Haddington Concert Society 40th Anniversary

St Mary's Church Haddington 4/10/26

Maria Włoszczowska (violin), Alasdair Beatson (piano)

This year is the 40th Anniversary of the formation of two societies presenting seasons of live chamber music in their respective towns, Haddington Concert Society and Classic Music Live! Falkirk. Both presented the same anniversary programme just 48 hours apart, Falkirk on 2nd and Haddington on 4th October, performed by Polish violinist Maria Włoszczowska (soloist and leader of the Royal Northern Sinfonia featuring in several of my Lammermuir Festival reviews, this and previous years) and Scottish pianist Alasdair Beatson. The programme featured a joint commission by the two societies from Scottish-Greek composer Electra Perivolaris, her piece for solo piano ‘A Way Through’, inspired by the John Muir Way, a long- distance walking route (from Dunbar to Helensburgh) that links Falkirk and Haddington. Music for duo included sonatas by Mozart and Richard Strauss, Schubert’s ‘Grand Duo’ and another piece by Perivolaris. Why, the reader might ask, would a Clackmannanshire-based reviewer select a Haddington performance over a closer Falkirk one. Three reasons. Firstly, and most honestly, because they asked me to. Secondly, after covering 23 events in this, my fourth year of covering the Lammermuir Festival, my car surely knows the way and where to park (parking in Falkirk can be a bit of a lottery). But, more excuse than reason but foremost in my mind, Haddington is the home of my favourite piano in the central belt, a glorious Bösendorfer. Turnout in St Mary’s Church was very satisfactory. Chair of the Society’s committee of trustees Fiona Finch welcomed all and introduced the event and Alasdair Beatson as a new Patron; Alasdair then introduced the programme.

Mozart’s Sonata in E flat K302 is a 2-movement work dating from 1778 while he was on an extended visit in Mannheim before moving on to Paris. Mannheim at the time boasted a uniquely professional standing orchestra, and the thrilling (originally orchestral) compositional trope known as the ‘Mannheim steamroller’, a crescendo on a rising melodic line over an ostinato bass, that seems to come straight at the listener head-on, had already been among the techniques developed by Stamitz father and son. In this sonata, Mozart delivers a stonking steamroller seconds in, and yes, it was thrilling, even without an orchestra. There was lovely sweet tone from Maria’s Francesco Stradivari (son of Antonio) and teasing tenuti (perfect for Mozart) from Alasdair on the Bösendorfer in the more wistful second theme, savoured again in the exposition repeat. It is the darkness of the second theme that dominates the development, lyrical and searching, finding resolution in the return of E-flat major in the recapitulation. Delightfully, the indicated repeat of the development and recapitulation was honoured (often omitted in recordings). Though a rondo finale, the second movement is marked Andante grazioso and the rondo theme was exactly that, a gracious strolling theme introduced by piano and answered by violin, proceeding in a chamber conversation, with a particular fondness for warm sonorities on the G-string. The episodes were more like variations with some key exploration and changes of note values, and mini-cadenzas for piano acting as ritornelli. A gentle reprise of the rondo theme and the soft coda seemed to steal away. What a beguiling piece. It received a charming performance.

Electra Perivolaris’ ‘Within the drifting contours of the land...’ is a short piece for violin and piano that was written last year to a commission from the Young Classical Artists’ Trust during the composer’s Fellowship there. It explores ideas of heritage, representation, layers of reality and experience, and degrees of presence and absence. Its starting point is what it means to look at a map, in particular those of the two islands that define the composer’s identity, the Scottish Isle of Arran and the Greek Aegean island of Chios. I share her fascination. Since my teens, I have enjoyed the pleasure of looking at a map and imagining my 3-dimensional self in the place represented by the 2-dimensional projection. For me, the pleasure of planning a cycling holiday from a map and then actually being there have been quite separate and distinct pleasures – a fact proven by the frequency of my deviation from the plan. For me, the pleasure afforded by the map is not diminished by the quite different pleasure of experiencing the place “in the flesh”. I suspect that for Electra the difference is experienced, to at least a small but real extent, as a deficiency: "A place is not defined by lines on a map, but by texture, atmosphere, presence/absence." The music is layered to tease out these contrasts. The violin starts, an open G like a blank sheet of paper in the xy-plane, fleeting high comments establishing the upper limit of the z-axis (with apologies to non-mathematicians). The violin fills in a few details in between. The piano enters and adds texture (a rather dreamy and expansive texture at first). This is repeated and more detail added. A violin cadenza with pizzicato comments and lyrical fragments adds its own textures. More dreamy piano and violin textures are added, including swooping glissandi and strumming pizzicato figures, and a few comments that hint at folk music rhythms. The piece ends morendo. There was a directness and immediacy in the musical language which I found very appealing, about which more below. The piece received a very persuasive interpretation.

Schubert’s Grand Duo in A D574 had received a stylish and compelling reading just over 3 weeks previously from the Milstein sisters just down the road in the Holy Trinity Church as part of the Lammermuir Festival, and I was looking forward to a repeat hearing, not necessarily planning any comparison. Schubert the melodist was foremost in the first movement’s exposition. The first theme had me musing again whether it was in the mind of Leslie Bricusse when he was writing the song for the title sequence of the 1967 Bond film ‘You Only Live Twice’. The playfulness of the second theme was enchanting, while the cheekiness of the end of the exposition was nicely pointed. The sweetness of the violin tone up high was elegantly complemented by the piano, while the acoustic of St Mary’s carried both to perfection. The eloquence of the Bösendorfer in Viennese music was fully exploited. The first (subjective) interpretative difference between the present performers and the Milsteins had occurred to me during the exposition repeat and was cemented by the development. Where the latter had linked to Schubert’s reverence for Beethoven, the former had me thinking of other Schubert works that lay in the future, especially the ‘Arpeggione Sonata’. The recapitulation brought more freshness to the playful exchanges between the instruments, ending sweetly. The scampering, playful Scherzo was fabulously agile, with extremely vigorous interplay and a stylish cheeky rallentando before the return to its first theme. The chromatic, smoochy Trio caught Viennese mannerisms to perfection. The spooky bridge passage back to the Scherzo reprise was delicious. Unforgettable. The Andantino was presented as a waltz-like reverie, contrasting with the Milsteins’ minuet, with cheeky slippage in the key, a stern bridge passage, some teasing hovering between moods, and a simple, innocent end. The finale, a sprightly and witty Ländler, felt like watching showjumping, interspersed with lyrical interludes. Tone and phrasing were delightful, with stylish flicks from the violin matched by flicks from Maria’s ponytail. The mischievous chamber interplay between the two players was delightful. Finally, after a deceptive rallentando and diminuendo, one more fence was exultantly approached and cleared. Notwithstanding the revelatory excellence of the Milsteins’ performance, and mindful of the differences in instruments and acoustic and the residual familiarity from the earlier performance, I can honestly say that I was transported more by Maria and Alasdair’s reading. Superb.

After the interval, Electra introduced her piece ‘A Way Through’, inspired by the landscapes and heritage of East Lothian and Falkirk. The ‘John Muir Way’ is named after the pioneering naturalist, conservationist and writer, born in 1838 in Dunbar. His advocacy for the preservation of wild places and the importance of access to experiencing them for human wellbeing led to the formation of America’s National Parks. The ‘John Muir Way’ in Scotland links coasts and communities, does indeed traverse wild places, but also links to cultural and historical sites and significant features of built environment. The piece does not seek to describe them, rather evoke the feeling of “being there” and travelling between them, including such sites as The Kelpies, the Antonine Wall, St Mary's Church in Haddington, and the distant Bass Rock. These experiences, she said, became an important part of the work's creative journey. Alasdair Beatson then performed the piece. It began with short lyrical phrases and evocative figures. Longer expressive lines followed with arches of acceleration and deceleration, crescendo and diminuendo, melodic in a rather fragmentary way. There was a quasi-improvisatory nervous energy about the music that I found quite compelling. Although the musical language, to say nothing of the gender, age and cultural heritage of the composers, are quite different, in terms of my reaction to the music, its directness and its immediacy, I was most reminded of Janáček. A super piece, it received a committed and virtuosic performance.

Richard Strauss’ Violin Sonata in E flat, Op.18 dates from 1887, when he was falling head-over-heels for the love of his life and his muse, the soprano Pauline de Ahna, so unsurprisingly, from the start, the music is rhapsodic and romantic. A first hearing for me, it was also immediately recognisable as Strauss, making technical demands on both players that were met with aplomb. The second theme was more in the character of an idyllic reverie, though there was a wealth of lyrical themes, some Brahmsian, others quite operatic. Particularly lovely were recurring tinkling cascades from the piano. The development was stormy and something of its passion resurfaced at the end of the recapitulation. An extended afterglow was interrupted by the passionate piano for a quick conclusion to the movement. The slow movement began with a melody that anticipated Strauss’ beautiful songs, long phrases on the violin receiving a little answer from the piano. The lyrical nocturne had a darker, more turbulent central section, where menacing quotations from Schubert’s song 'Erlkönig' in the piano left hand hinted at the fragility of the idyll. The threat passed, and the resumed nocturne glowed with romantic music that anticipated the loveliness of ‘Rosenkavalier’ and actually quoted the light-hearted romance from ‘Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche’. Exquisite. A sombre brooding Andante introduction from the piano suddenly launched into the ebullient and vigorous finale, episodic, rhapsodic and life-affirming. There was a big romantic tune, some playful scampering and light-hearted exchanges, and even a quiescent moment before the piano erupted afresh. An exuberant expressive coda sealed the joy of a youthful but expertly-crafted masterpiece, performed with consummate virtuosity and artistry, very well-received by the Haddington audience.

There was an encore, introduced by Maria Włoszczowska, after thanking all responsible for the success of the event: the Adagio from Mendelssohn’s Sonata No.3 in F major, which she described as “completely divine”, a description with which I happily concur. It is a ‘song without words’, in the character of a song of devotion, introduced tenderly by the piano and sung by the violin. Its central section is quite impassioned and turbulent. The opening mood is restored for the tender conclusion. Gorgeous.

https://www.haddingtonconcertsociety.com/4-october-2026.html

https://www.classicmusicfalkirk.co.uk/concerts.html