SCO Wind Soloists in Concert

Gartmore Village Hall, Stirlingshire 14/6/25

The four-performance summer tour of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s Wind Soloists’ ‘in Concert’ programme concluded on the night of 14th June in Gartmore Village Hall, Stirlingshire.  The programme, the customary assortment of familiar and unfamiliar goodies, classical pieces, gems from the heyday of the Harmonie (small-town German windband) and twentieth century whimsy, this time augmented with a 21st century piece specially written for the ensemble, was genially introduced by SCO sub-principal bassoonist, Alison Green.  Attendance was entirely satisfactory.

Principal flute Andrê Cebrián’s arrangement of the Scherzo from Mendelssohn’s 1843 incidental music for ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’ opened the concert with the full dectet, two each of flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons and horns.  Winds feature prominently in the delightful original, but the arrangement nonetheless delivered a fresh perspective with no loss of detail or of the Mendelssohnian lightness of touch.  All parts had a turn at scampering agility in the spotlight, even the horns and bassoons.  The displaced accents and sforzandi were tasteful and witty, while the chromatic runs were delicious.  The horns even got to sing high in their register.  An excellent arrangement and a super concert-opener.

The flutes and clarinets took a rest for Mozart’s 1777 4-movement Divertimento No.14 in B-flat K270, though Alison pointed out that Mozart intended the score to be playable in a version where the oboes are replaced by a pair of clarinets.   Either way, a first hearing for this reviewer.  The first movement, an Allegro molto, after a brief call to attention (hopefully getting the dinner guests to haud their wheesht) was a conventional sonata form with a very abbreviated development, quite operatic, especially in the second subject.  The theme of the Andantino had me wondering whether the piece was known to Schubert when he was writing the Andante of his Second Symphony, and had me expecting a set of variations, though in fact it was extremely brief.   The minuet and trio were both elegant, the former somewhat mischievous, the latter slightly slower and based on rising and falling scales passed between the 6 instruments.  The scampering joyful 3/8 Presto was delivered with subtle rubato, cheeky phrasing and little pauses, in abbreviated ternary form with sn even cheekier coda.  An absolute hoot.

Back to the full dectet for Jay Capperauld’s ‘Carmina Godelica’ (Gaelic Songs), which was composed this year as an SCO commission supported by a grant from the Vaughan Williams Foundation.  I have written before:

As Associate Composer of the SCO, as well as a regular collaborator with Scotland’s other ensembles, Scottish audiences are never starved of Jay Capperauld’s music.  Although his music regularly tackles profound and serious themes, there always seem to be a certain optimism and not a little wit in his unpretentious treatment of them.

Carmina Godelica’ is a case in point, named for a 19th century collection of the sung and spoken heritage of the Western Isles by Alexander Carmichael, whose authenticity has long been challenged.  Rather than attempt a cultural replevin, Jay’s work is a 5-movement suite evoking 5 genres from the collection with new music that connects beyond its limitations with an ancient culture in an engaging, compelling, convincing and very moving way.  To my ear as a fluent Irish speaker, the music seems to follow the natural speech rhythms of the Gaelic language.  ‘Incantations’, with its short three-note phrases superseded by hocketing dotted rhythms and foot-stampimg, seems to connect to a mystic pagan past.  Full use of the sonorities and timbres of the individual instruments grabbed my attention, not to say something deeper and more primal.  ‘Waterfall of Psalms’ evoked the clarinet precentor’s chant being answered by cascading embellished responses from the others as the congregation.  A plaintive oboe solo from Katherine Bryer was particularly touching.  ‘Waulking Songs’ was scherzo-like, with horns and bassoons setting up the rhythm, various solos chanting the verses and the ensemble dancing the chorus, a cheeky piccolo capering the coda in a virtual ‘cutty sark’.  ‘Laments’ did what it said on the tin, the rhythm of a dirge set up by horns, bassoons and clarinet, two lines of two keening flutes twined around each other.  Plaintive oboes wailed like seagulls.  The ensuing tutti sounded like a pibroch, with ornamentation that would be called sean-nós (old-style) in Ireland.  The ‘Fairy Songs’ finale bowled along in 9/8 or similar metre with the occasional hemiola, a piccolo finally calling a sudden halt to the mischief.   A thoroughly satisfying piece that, for this reviewer at any rate, connected respectfully with an ancient culture very close to my heart and made it immediate, relevant and compelling.  Full marks from me.

First up after the interval, Hummel’s sunny 1803 3-movement Octet-Partita in E-flat major for 2 clarinets, 2 horns, 2 bassoons and 2 oboes, was initially a surprise of the welcome “I’ve heard this before” kind.  And indeed, later delving through my records revealed that I had heard it performed in the Queen’s Hall by 4 SCO Winds and 4 Royal Conservatoire students in November of last year.  The gleeful first movement with its fanfares and Rossini-like rhythms skipped along cheerfully.  Still in the major key, the middle movement was not particularly slow and felt like a theme and variations, with one teasing minor key variation featuring a deliciously tearful and rather operatic oboe and another with a sweetly ornamented conversation between oboes and clarinets.  The jig-like rondo finale was all winks and smiles, the melody introduced by oboe, charming, light-hearted and quite Italianate in expression.  One cheeky solo clarinet ritornello raised a few smiles.  The prancing coda was a delightful romp.  A big thank you to the SCO Winds for keeping this gorgeous music in the repertoire.

Had the programme not said so in black and white and Alison’s introduction not confirmed it, I would have struggled to identify Beethoven as the composer of the 1792 2-movement Duo for Two Flutes.   In the opening sonata-form Allegro, Andrê Cebrián and Marta Gómez’ twin melodic lines intertwined exquisitely, as if we were witnessing the courtship flight of two lovebirds, a Rococo sound-world more reminiscent of CPE Bach than Beethoven.  The Minuet and Trio which followed were also quite conventional and Haydnesque, though pleasingly elegant.  Definitely a first hearing for me of a piece which lacks an opus number.

Back to the full dectet and mischief with a French flavour to close the programme with a 1971 ‘suite for winds’ of 7 dances from Jean Françaix’ 1935 ballet score ‘Les Malheurs de Sophie‘, charting the exploits of the eponymous 3-year old terror, which include dismembering then holding a funeral for her doll, shaving off her own eyebrows and cooking her mother’s goldfish.  The first dance evokes playing with the doll with a strutting slightly jazzy street song vibe.  The theatrically solemn doll’s cortège frames a priceless lament from the two horns.  ‘La présentation des petits amis’ is marchlike and followed by a confident strutting cakewalk like variation representing Sophie’s cousin Paul, expert at defusing her predicaments.  Their ‘Pas de deux’ is slow and tender.  ‘Le goûter’ is a fast and increasingly riotous waltz as Sophie stuffs her face with goodies until she is fit to burst.  Innocence is restored in the final jazzy dance chasing after butterflies with butterfly nets.   Françaix’s music is always a delight and this was no exception.

These 10 musicians, from an orchestra that routinely applies chamber music values to orchestral repertoire, clearly relish their mission of advocacy for neglected and novelty chamber wind music, and pursue it with passion and consummate artistry.  Their Summer Tour carries in addition a holiday atmosphere and a drive to engage by bringing the music to the people in less traditional but utterly charming venues.  In all of these endeavours they are successful.  Excellent.

 

Donal Hurley

Donal Hurley is an Irish-born retired teacher of Maths and Physics, based in Clackmannanshire. His lifelong passions are languages and music. He plays violin and cello, composes and sings bass in Clackmannanshire Choral Society, of which he is the Publicity Officer.

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