Michael Dervan reviews the RTÉ Philharmonic Choir and the RTÉ NSO under the baton of Markson at the NCH in Dublin while Jim Carroll saw Enrico Rava at Vicar Street

RTÉ Philharmonic Choir, RTÉ NSO/Markson
NCH, Dublin

Beethoven - Symphony No 9 (Choral).
It's the choral finale of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony which has always garnered the greatest attention.

There have long been voices raised against it. The composer Louis Spohr, who was 14 years younger than Beethoven, described it in his autobiography (published posthumously in 1861) as "so ugly, in such bad taste, and in the conception of Schiller's Ode so cheap that I cannot even now understand how such a genius as Beethoven could write it down".

The musical public has always taken a different view, and although it's that finale which most often proves a stumbling block in performance, the great "Freude, schöner Götterfunken" tune remains among the most popular Beethoven ever wrote.

On Sunday, in the second of two performances to round off his Beethoven symphony cycle with the RTÉ NSO, Gerhard Markson shaped the work so that the finale seemed the natural dramatic apex of the work.

Not everything in the first three movements caught with the necessary grip. It's strange for a conductor who can show such an ear for detail to allow what amounts to role reversals between background and foreground in a composer as familiar and central as Beethoven. But those solecisms made their presence felt in the businesslike romanticism of Markson's approach - purposeful in direction but by no means always clear in dialogue.

That approach went into a different gear for the finale. The expressive bite

of the orchestral recitatives, the unanimity of delivery, and the collective flexibility in ensemble all gelled as they simply hadn't in the earlier movements. And Markson paced the many changes of mood and tempo with sure theatricality.

The RTÉ Philharmonic Choir was on fine form, the sopranos impressively firm even when stressed on high, the men resolute, too, though rather rougher in tone.

The four soloists - Franzita Whelan (soprano), Ann Murray (mezzo soprano), Peter Hoare (tenor), Markus Brück (bass) - matched the conductor's vision with ardently dramatic projection, and after the final blaze the capacity audience was not long in rising to its feet in appreciation. This Beethoven series, which had its major ups and downs, was one in which the best was very definitely kept till last.

Michael Dervan

Enrico Rava
Vicar Street, Dublin

Tonight, Enrico Rava is as much a jazz trooper as a jazz trumpeter. Others might cry off live engagements because of a broken leg, but the Italian player's style is to hobble onto the stage rather than send a sick note.

After all, that particular limb has little impact on his playing.

Rava has made no secret of his fondness for the Miles Davis who blew up a storm in the 1950s. Yet while Davis went on to leave scorch marks on the jazz landscape in subsequent decades, Rava has always harkened back to the muted drama and introspective lyricism of those early years.

Such mellow daydreaming and haunted hush forms much of the backdrop to Easy Living, his current release on ECM. This album also featured the quartet who made this visit to Dublin with him, and it's when these musicians break for other ground, after some initial slow-burning, intricate, textured scene setting, that this show becomes truly fascinating.

Much of this can be attributed to the playful, giddy interaction between Rava and trombonist Gianluca Petrella. As the high honking, wisecracking trombone causes the trumpet to soar and squawk to keep pace, you're put in mind of two Vespas chasing each other up and down narrow Italian streets.

Fired on by pianist Andrea Pozza, the piece suddenly breaks into a wonderful groove with both Petrella and Rava hitting the open road and discovering fresh impetus and urgency to drive the piece further and higher. That all of these twists and turns appear so natural is breathtaking.

Despite such wild abandon, Rava's preference seems to be for ballads which have the space to allow for more reflective turns and manoeuvres. Song For Jessica, for instance, sees Rava slowly and distinctly caressing notes

to prolong the emotional intensity, with bassist Rosario Bonaccorso and drummer Roberto Gatto in particular adding considerable sturdy soul and elegant grace to its trajectory.

Indeed, it's the other players on the stage who truly embellish Rava's tales. Pianist Pozza is a constant heartbeat throughout, equally adept at providing colour or context when the need arises, while Bonaccorso's playing is masterful and thoughtful. Gatto's drumming is also noteworthy, especially when he uses his fingertips to coax a soft-shoe shuffle from his kit.

In the midst of such musical finesse, however, it's Rava who should get all the gold stars. Whether it's providing frazzled, frantic exclamation marks or simply tracing fragile, delicate italics, it's his handiwork which is written large all over this show.

Jim Carroll