A selection of reviews.
Murray Perahia (piano)
NCH, Dublin
Michael Dervan
Bach - Partita No 2 in C minor. Beethoven - Sonata in D Op 28 (Pastoral). Schumann - Fantasiestücke Op 12. Chopin - Ballade No 3
Murray Perahia is among the most pleasing of contemporary pianists. He sticks by and large to the established classics, and plays them with a beautiful sound and easy flow that are, if anything, anti-virtuosic rather than display oriented.
His music-making may be characterised by grace and naturalness, but that shouldn't be taken to mean that his interpretative stance is in any way neutral or anti-interventionist.
The shadings and balances of his handling of Bach's Partita in C minor, the first work he played at his National Concert Hall debut - not to mention his incisive manner and pacing of the third movement Courante - quickly made that clear. There were similarly distinctive gestures, too, in the Beethoven sonata, Schumann Fantasy Pieces and Chopin Ballade.
It is Perahia's special knack to pursue a path that sounds at once individual and central, that has plenty to show in terms of personal touches, yet doesn't seem to set itself in conflict with well-established conventions.
The pleasures that were to be had in these performances were mostly of a mild-mannered sort. Yes, the piano was made to growl a little from time to time, but it was a domesticated growling, rather than any instance of rawer emotion, untamed feeling, let alone anything that might threaten the established order. Those threats, surprisingly, came in moments when Perahia's polished finish fractured through fallibilities of finger and memory, disruptions that were quickly recovered from.
Yet, for all the sophistication of the playing, there was something distanced in the musical communication, as if Perahia were a teller of other people's adventures and excitements rather than his own. The draw was in the cultured refinement of the telling rather than any sense of passionate personal connection with the musical messages.
Niamh de Búrca, Michael Rooney and June McCormack
The Coach House, Dublin Castle
Siobhán Long
It was impossible to ignore two overwhelming observations on a night of tightly-arranged, buoyant music: one was the remarkable rehabilitation of the harp in recent years as an instrument of considerable muscle - far removed from the effete, intangible world of old it inhabited for some of us listeners; the other was the surgical precision of June McCormack's flute: she modulated it with pinprick accuracy: approaching and receding in and around tunes with a sensitivity to every rhythmic and melodic possibility.
Singer Niamh De Búrca corralled this trio into existence, yet her modesty prevented her from assuming a role centre stage.
This she left to Michael Rooney, whose own compositions were a timely reminder of the golden days when harpists composed for generous patrons: a brief extract from his recently composed Battle Of The Books suite stilled the collective pulse in the room with its sinuous elegance.
De Búrca's voice sat comfortably amid harp and flute (and a tincture of impish concertina on Johnny Doyle), although she yielded almost too much to the lure of accompaniment, and might have enriched her repertoire even further had she pursued even one solo song.
Still, her repertoire was refreshingly eclectic: the more familiar An Bóithrín Buí basted our latent schoolday memories, while The Herring Song and The Maid On The Shore delighted in their picaresque tales and rascally word play.
De Búrca's encyclopaedic knowledge of her own repertoire was a joy, her delight in sharing her quirky insights with her audience almost palpable. Síle Ní Ghadhra and Barr a' tSléibhe were perfect foils for De Búrca's voice to fence with Rooney's ever-attentive harp and McCormack's graceful flute lines.
Michael Rooney's highly developed rhythmic sense fuelled the reels The Bell Harbour Reel and Paddy O'Brien's with dance-like authority, and he invited inevitable Carolan comparison with a superb pair of original slip jigs: Land's End and Mairéad Gheal. He and McCormack play as one, their intertwining instruments whispering of a union that stretches well past music.
This was a welcome return to acoustic performance, after a blip in Music Network's landscape last autumn when a traditional concert was amplified unnecessarily. This time round, it was an inspired choice of musicians on top of their form.
