London Philharmonic Orchestra to play concerts in Royal Festival Hall 30 September – 30 December

Always nice to start the day with an invigorating press release. This from the London Philharmonic Orchestra announcing their concert schedule for the rest of the year offers a little bit of hope and possibly even excitement.

All thirteen concerts will be streamed via Marquee.TV which if you’ve got one of a range of Connected TVs you may well be able to access directly on the TV (otherwise its an HDMI connection from your laptop to the TV). Marquee are currently offering 50% for all subscriptions to their service in September. The LPO concerts will be freely accessible via Marquee for the first 7 days after broadcast.

More detail for the LPO season on the orchestra’s website. For Marquee TV subscriptions go here.

Wednesday 30 September 2020, 8pm

JÖRG WIDMANN Con brio
SIBELIUS (ORCH. RAUTAVAARA) In the Stream of Life
BEETHOVEN Symphony No. 5

Edward Gardner conductor (Chair supported by Mrs Christina Lang Assael)
Gerald Finley bass-baritone


Wednesday 7 October 2020, 8pm

MESSIAEN
 Et exspecto resurrectionem mortuorum
SCHOENBERG Verklärte Nacht

Edward Gardner 
conductor (Chair supported by Mrs Christina Lang Assael)


Wednesday 14 October 2020, 8pm

JULIAN ANDERSON Van Gogh Blue*
NIELSEN Violin Concerto
BEETHOVEN Symphony No. 7

John Storgårds
 conductor
Simone Lamsma violin


Wednesday 21 October 2020, 8pm

ANNA CLYNE Prince of Clouds
R STRAUSS Suite, Le bourgeois gentilhomme
BEETHOVEN Symphony No. 8

Karina Canellakis
 conductor
Pieter Schoeman violin (Chair supported by Neil Westreich)
Tania Mazzetti violin (Chair supported by Countess Dominique Loredan)


Wednesday 28 October 2020, 8pm

SIBELIUS 
The Bard
MAGNUS LINDBERG Cello Concerto No. 2 (UK premiere)
RAVEL Trois poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé
SCHUBERT Symphony No. 1

Jukka-Pekka Saraste 
conductor
Anssi Karttunen cello
Sally Matthews soprano


Wednesday 4 November 2020, 8pm

VIVALDI La stravaganza, Op. 4, Concerto No. 1 in B flat major
SCHUBERT Symphony No. 2
THOMAS LARCHER Ouroboros for cello and orchestra
REGER Variations and Fugue on a Theme by Mozart, Op. 132

Thierry Fischer conductor
Pieter Schoeman violin (Chair supported by Neil Westreich)
Kristina Blaumane cello (Chair supported by Bianca and Stuart Roden)


Wednesday 11 November 2020, 8pm

CHEVALIER DE SAINT-GEORGES
 Overture, L’amant anonyme
BEETHOVEN Piano Concerto No. 4
BEETHOVEN Ah! Perfido
BEETHOVEN Symphony No. 4

Daniele Rustioni
 conductor
Nicolas Namoradze piano
Sophie Bevan soprano


Wednesday 25 November 2020, 8pm

SCHUBERT Symphony No. 3
PENDERECKI Concertino for Trumpet and Orchestra
LOTTA WENNÄKOSKI Verdigris (London premiere)
SIBELIUS Symphony No. 5

Hannu Lintu
 conductor
Gábor Boldoczki trumpet


Wednesday 2 December 2020, 8pm

PROKOFIEV Symphony No. 1 (Classical)
HILLBORG Bach Materia
SCHUBERT Overture in B flat major, D.470
SCHUBERT Symphony No. 5

Thomas Søndergård 
conductor
Pekka Kuusisto violin


Saturday 5 December 2020, 8pm

RAVEL Le tombeau de Couperin
SCHUBERT Symphony No. 6
JONATHAN DOVE Vadam et circuibo civitatem (a cappella)
PROKOFIEV Piano Concerto No. 3

Thomas Søndergård 
conductor
Alexander Gavrylyuk piano
London Philharmonic Choir


Wednesday 9 December 2020, 8pm

J S BACH Orchestral Suite No. 1
ELENA KATS-CHERNIN Piano Concerto No. 3 (European premiere)
ENESCU Decet, Op. 14
ENESCU Chamber Symphony

Vladimir Jurowski 
conductor
Tamara-Anna Cislowska piano


Wednesday 16 December 2020, 8pm

J S BACH
 Brandenburg Concerto No. 5
BRETT DEAN The Players, for accordion and orchestra (UK premiere)
STRAVINSKY Pulcinella (complete)

Vladimir Jurowski 
conductor
Pieter Schoeman violin (Chair supported by Neil Westreich)
Juliette Bausor flute
Catherine Edwards harpsichord
James Crabb accordion
Angharad Lyddon soprano
Sam Furness tenor
David Soar bass


Wednesday 30 December 2020, 8pm

VIVALDI Overture, La verità in cimento
SPOHR Symphony No. 2
HONEGGER Pastorale d’été
BLISS Rout
JAMES MACMILLAN Sinfonietta

Vladimir Jurowski 
conductor
Mary Bevan soprano

Benedetti’s chart-topping Elgar, socially-distanced concerts back on, the Southbank, and a tweak to the career?

This week’s update from (near) the English Riviera – Falmouth

Without live events there seems to be little impetus to write. Since the £1.57 billion pledge to the UK arts scene, it feels a little as though the fire has gone from the fight. Nicola Benedetti stoked the grate a considerable amount a week last Friday with her appearance on Scala Radio. Good promo for her chart-topping Decca (physical) release of Elgar’s Violin Concerto with the LPO on 7 August..

But there is, as a good friend recently posited just this week, a sense of resignation about the return of live performance. And whilst the seemingly never-ending album and track releases might act as a substitute, their rate impacts on noteworthines. All of these recordings battle for us streamers attention. The music pluggers and programmers would have you believe that the mere fact that something has been released is in itself the newsline. Difficult to believe. Finding the editorial line in a world devoid of occasion is a challenge.

Socially-distanced concerts are back on

On the flipside, three organisations announced socially distanced concerts over the past ten days: Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra from September (‘as and when guidelines allow’); Academy of St Martin in the Fields (23 August at St Stephen’s Church, Dulwich); and Snape Maltings Concert Hall starting up their offer on 21 August. At the time of writing all three days of concerts at Snape for a ‘small and socially distanced audience’ had sold out.

Snape Maltings Concert Hall’s socially-distanced concerts snapped up like hot cakes.

The restaurant experience isn’t much different from before

I’ve been staying in Falmouth over the past few days with members of the extended family, some of whom work in the catering and hospitality industry. Conversations with them about loopholes (the one about repurposing a currently redundant function room at a golf club as a restaurant that can house 150 people nicely gets around the restriction of mass gatherings it seems) combined with an experience at a local restaurant prompted me to reflect on the equivalent for concert venues and theatres. During our Saturday lunchtime snack at a restaurant on the high street, members of bar staff are masked, awkwardly maintaining a social distance and asking us to submit our contact details for track and trace, whilst diners sit in surprisingly close proximity (certainly less than a metre) inside and out and eat their food. I make the observation with my party that I’m not feeling unduly ill-at-ease, and that save from the various table staff milling around with their masks on, nothing is that different from normal. It prompts me to reflect that the restrictions are placed on live performance venues, they’re not wholly down to the careful consideration of health and safety regulations in a COVID-ridden world. Smells more like organisational ineptitude to me.

Southbank confusion

I’m struggling to know what to think about the Southbank Centre connundrum. First, an open letter sent by members of the considerable number of staff at risk of redundancy pointing to (amongst other things) senior executive pay, and an intention by SBC management to mothball the site until 2021.

Some of the points responded to in the response by all the senior execs was inevitable, though the absence of the CEO Elaine Bedell on the list of signatories seems odd to say the least.

Letter sent in response to the SOS open letter

It’s all a little painful to read. Catastrophic thinking is inevitable. The idea that a building so dear (to me and a few others at least) could now be embroiled in an argument which if not resolved could come to represent how the global pandemic exposed some of the systemic issues classical music and the arts has failed to grapple with is a little sad. Maybe good will eventually come of it. I do hope so. I still consider the Southbank Centre a special place. Unsurprisingly, the Southbank Centre turned down the opportunity for a podcast interview saying they’d be back in touch with details about their plans in due course. Tsk.

I’m inclined to agree with #SouthbankSOS’s final para in the response to the Senior Execs letter.

SOS: The fact that Southbank Centre’s leadership are choosing to press ahead with this brutal programme of redundancies before they seem to have a clear understanding of whether they are eligible for a Government grant or loan suggests that they are using this crisis as an opportunity to carry out a cost-saving restructure. By making the majority of their staff redundant now they will be able to use the Government bailout – which it seems clear to us that they will receive – for something other than saving jobs or honouring their own redundancy policy.

https://saveoursouthbank.com/southbanks-response/

Surprising coaching revelations

Many readers know I work as a leadership coach. Some maybe surprised that I have in the past couple of months signed up for a leadership coaching programme myself. Part of that coaching experience for me on the receiving end of the process is to reflect. What has come to the fore in an unexpected way is the feeling – and that’s all it is right now – of unfinished business, or perhaps unrealised ideas pertaining to work in the classical music world.

During recent sessions I’ve stumbled on the notion of the ‘Hero Story’ and ‘Shadow Careers’, the way in which we live a shadow-life instead of the life we intended or hoped to. And how, when put into the context of the ‘Hero Story’, one can return to the original career or intention renewed by the discoveries made during our shadow career.

It’s prompted me to return to that period of time when I worked in arts admin, the new opportunities I was energised by towards the end of it, and to reexamine my reasons for leaving it behind. There is more work to be done here (and probably more to write about). But the time feels right now to explore more of what happened before in order to understand where best to go next.

A stolen moment on the South Bank

The sun is hot. Very hot. There’s the smallest of breezes, but the excitement from the crowd here on the South Bank more than makes up for it.

The Festival Hall is the new must-go-to location in Central London. I’m sitting on concrete benches. Beside me is a lady drawing up her to-do list in her notepad. On my right, two well-spoken thirty-somethings friends sit and chat, meeting for the first time in many months. They share surgery stories. One of them says that a patient at the hospital nearly died today. That was his high point today. Both seem quite happy.

In front of me people lean against the wall, looking out over the river as they knock back the cans of beer they’ve bought at the nearby supermarket. Nobody minds they haven’t gone to the bar. It’s all quite bohemian really what with their long hair, canvas shoes and shades.

It’s lovely to be here. There’s a relaxed vibe about the place. And it’s much needed. The architecture – the concrete – has a surprisingly reassuring effect on me. It’s as though my mother has put her arm around me. “There, there chump. It will all work out.”

Do Mums really know that? Or is that the best they can say? Do they believe in themselves when they say it or are they just offsetting their own insecurities? We believed them when they said it back then. Why does it all seem so unbelievable now?

The South Bank resonates. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve used that word ‘resonates’ this week. I’ve worked on the basis that the bigger the word the more successful I’ll be in securing my place in the big scheme of things. I can’t say I think it’s worked especially. I suspect I’ve ended up feeling more and more out of step with everyone else around me and those I come into contact with. I haven’t changed. So what’s happened to them?

Shit. I’ve digressed again. I’m sorry. I’m shit for doing that.

The South Bank. It’s a key place for me. I love it here. It feels like home. London’s version of style. My own personal version of 1960s Carnaby Street. An opportunity to watch people. To tap into conversations. To feel alive.

I came here for the first time in my early twenties, desperate to establish contacts with players in the London Philharmonic Youth Orchestra to bolster my own little black book. Later I used to wander around here on weekend walks with The Chap. It was here I wrote about for my first writing assessment for the correspondence course I began nearly ten years ago. And it was here I was planning meeting up with my cousin I haven’t seen for nearly 20 years over the weekend.

It’s a special place. A moment of exquisite serenity. Something to savour.