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O'Connor, IBO/Wallfisch
Ardee Baroque Festival
Andrew Johnstone
Cross-over music combining classical and traditional elements is an established genre. But fiddler Gerry O'Conner, violinist Elizabeth Wallfisch and the Irish Baroque Orchestra cast it in a completely new light.
In a concert pursuing the second Ardee Baroque Festival's theme of border crossing, neither side had to concede any vitality to the other. For both, vibrato is out, ornamentation is in, and rhythm - deriving from a shared heritage of dance - is infectious.
Wallfisch led the orchestra in cutting performances of two of the 18th century's wackier products. Telemann's suite Don Quixote proved every bit as entertaining as its literary original, while Durante's concerto La Pazzia (The Madness) was a Sterne-like succession of false starts and crazy scenes.
Between those works, O'Connor paralleled the orchestra's decisive affects in three sets of dances and slow airs. He then joined them for Ardee Dances, a five-movement suite for fiddle and baroque strings specially composed for the festival by Rachel Holstead.
Despite its clear-cut phrasing and the odd hint of a jig or a reel, this is essentially a cosmopolitan work that steers well clear of the portentous nationalism, derivative neo-classicism or shallow commercialism that could so easily have characterised it. In its slightly chromatic environment, both fiddler and period ensemble hold equal status as guests.
The concert ended with the 4th Brandenburg Concerto. Though the strings' intense gesturing at times outweighed the lithe recorder playing of Laoise O'Brien and Kate Hearne, this was an altogether more concentrated and hearty account than the IBO's last, under Joshua Rifkin in 2003.
While counterpoint rather than folksong is the essence of the medium, the performance was true to the national styles and dance spirit underlying the music. It was a reminder that the ultimate cross-over composer is Bach himself.
Wolf Parade
Whelans, Dublin
Kevin Courtney
There's a hungry pack outside Whelans, ready to pounce on anyone with a spare ticket to see the hottest show of the weekend. They'd have probably had a better chance of getting a backstage pass for Dylan down the road. Wolf Parade are the latest breath of fresh air to waft out of a rudely-healthy Montreal scene that has already brought us Stars and The Arcade Fire. They're friends and sometimes collaborators of the latter, so it's a safe bet to expect twisted, angular art-rock with a hugely-beating heart, fevered brow and a capacity to become suddenly possessed by a demonic, high-decibel frenzy. The band even has a name for this rapture, into which they will plunge frequently throughout an intense, hour-long set. They call it totalosity.
Wolf Parade formed by accident when keyboardist/singer Spencer Krug was asked to play a gig, and needed to quickly cobble together a band. He called guitarist-singer Dan Boeckner, a wiry Tom Verlaine/Iggy Pop type, and they were joined by beardy drummer Arlen Thompson and beardy keyboardist Hadji Bakara. Their debut album, Apologies to the Queen Mary, has already joined The Arcade Fire's Funeral on the shelves of many a discerning muso-head, and critics from Montreal to Mullingar have been howling their praises. Half the crowd is probably here so as not to miss out on the latest buzz band, but the other half is here to be totalised by such songs as Modern World, You Are a Runner and I Am My Father's Son, Shine a Light and I'll Believe in Anything.
Onstage, this lupine march is joined by a fifth member on guitar, bass and chiming percussion. Boekner's knife-edge guitars cut through the high-frequency hullabaloo, and Bakara's bleeping electronics keep everything close to the edge of paranoia.
Boekner and Krug swop vocal duties, often during the same song; Krug's panicky whoop blends nicely with Boekner's big, booming chant. Are they as good as The Arcade Fire, the fans left outside might like to know. No, but neither are they a pale imitation. Teetering on the Whelans stage like five guys on a small raft in a stormy sea, Wolf Parade look as if they're about to collapse in a froth of noise, but then suddenly they'll change tack and sail gracefully through the musical straits like an experienced yacht crew. This Heart's on Fire sounds like a classic rock song twisted into a more grotesque - and far more interesting - shape, while Dinner Bells could well be a requiem for those poor ticketless souls outside who didn't get to sit at the Wolf Parade table. Maybe next time - and there will definitely be a next time.
Vienna Piano Trio
Royal College of Physicians, Dublin
Andrew Johnstone
Haydn - Trio in D Hob XV/24
Beethoven - Kakadu Variations
Mozart - Trio in E K542
Schumann - Trio in D minor Op 63
Out of season, Music in Great Irish Houses presented the Vienna Piano Trio's first concert in this country, which was also the first concert to take place in the sumptuously restored Royal College of Physicians.
The predominately classical programme harmonised with the decor, and - despite persistent air conditioning and a ravenous new carpet - it sounded well too. The trio's instinct for balance was particularly advantageous in Haydn's delicate score. Though the string parts are little more than accessory doublings of the piano part, they were allowed to colour the texture rather than merely reinforce it.
All the music was staunchly served by the group's level-headed co-operativeness, not to mention their formidable technical prowess. But there was little room for individual or collective risk-taking: pointing and placing, rather than lyricism, were the priorities.
Thus, in Schumann's wonderfully idiosyncratic scherzo, the rhythms were superbly co-ordinated but they never completely left the ground. It was like a fast walk that wouldn't break into a run.
The trio's pointed and neatly packaged phrasing suited Beethoven's variations best of all. It's music that capitalises on the disparate qualities of the three instruments, rather than trying, as Schumann does, to integrate them.
Because the piano was never too strongly projected, there was no sense of baldness in the intriguing passages for strings alone. And in the melodramatic introduction, the playing was just grotesque enough to capture the composer's inimitable yet elusive sense of humour.
Leonard, Johnston, OSC/Douglas
NCH, Dublin
Martin Adams
Beethoven - Violin Concerto. Triple Concerto
Beethoven's Triple Concerto made a surprisingly effective and uplifting conclusion to the Orchestra of St Cecilia's 10th anniversary series. It is usually ranked well below the five piano concertos, heard in the first two concerts, and below the Violin Concerto, which preceded it in this programme.
In the Violin Concerto the soloist was Catherine Leonard, who left you in no doubt about her virtuosity while letting the music do all the display.
Here was a soloist who always listens, who leads without imposing, and whose always-pleasing sound merges into or stands out from the orchestra in a way that shows profound, thoughtful musicianship.
Barry Douglas conducted from memory. He and the OSC were responsive and authoritative, and although the speeds of the outer movements - always contentious in this work - were on the steady side, the playing had engaging vitality.
This concerto leaves the soloist with no place to hide. Everything counts. So it was a tough assignment for Leonard to play it, spend 20 minutes mopping her brow and changing her dress, and then play in the Triple Concerto.
Not that anyone would have noticed, for this performance sparkled. The cellist gets the lion's share, followed closely by the violin, with the piano some way behind.
In Guy Johnston we had a cellist to remember, with a rare combination of panache and insight.
One reason why this work's reputation has suffered is that people try and make it a grandiloquent work, by Beethoven the heroic artist. It isn't.
Johnston, the other soloists and the OSC just went for it, with a gusto that acknowledged the music's many subtleties and that made the grouping of cello, violin and piano a coherent one. They made you realise that, as a friend remarked, this is a joyous, carefree piece.
