[LJ2ME] The Fresh Prince of Bell Air
The concert was late in starting. Something one has not come to expect at the Esplanade. However, this evening's Singapore Arts Festival presentation of the Academy of St Martin in the Fields with Joshua Bell was something one had been waiting for months since March, so what was a couple more minutes' delay?
The pre-eminent ensemble is the leading chamber orchestra in the world, one of the most esteemed and established, with its name almost synonymous with that of founder Sir Neville Marriner. With the original intent to be a "conductorless" outfit to represent the "collegiate spirit", one found much to smirk at when Bell, in the dual capacity as director and soloist, had a comfy piano bench at first chair, sticking out among the other general issue utilitarian chairs like a, well, piano bench. Same same but different?
Back in Birmingham, Anne Sophie Mutter and the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra some outfit whose name I can't remember the London Philharmonic Orchestra (see comments below) playing Vivaldi's iconic Four Seasons begat a newfound appreciation for both musician and music. This evening's concert was similarly inspired and inspiring.
If one had ever entertained thoughts of what exact purpose a conductor served considering he just stood there and waved his hands around, watching a self-directed performance might very well convince one that one's sentiments were spot-on. As leader, Bell opted for a very audible sharp intake of breath to replicate the upstroke of the baton, and thus was the evening richer for the impromptu and interpolated acoustic delivery which accompanied a tempestuous and urgent reading of Beethoven's Coriolan Overture to start the ball rolling.
Mendelssohn's evergreen Violin Concerto followed and the sore thumb issue earlier was further highlighted when the piano bench in question was removed, since the musicians played musical chairs forwards with Bell vacating his seat for stage centre and Harvey de Souza taking his place. His contract terms perhaps mentioned exclusive use of a personal piano bench. From the grapevine, a leaked clause has it that "Mr Bell does not wish to thump the seat like the elderly women he's witnessed on local public buses."
Playing his priceless 1713 Gibson ex Huberman Stradivarius, the bold and beautiful sound of the instrument sang out unfettered, though one found it unsettling that someone of Bell's calibre uses a shoulder prop, which was an insult to the magnificent violin.
Gorgeous would be an understatement to describe Bell's tone as he coaxed out the bittersweet pathos of the opening before a virtuosic display of his own cadenza with haunting harmonics and borrowed themes from the material. It was a good showcase for the wealth and breadth of potential of the Strad. In the elegant central Andante, Bell's phrasing sobbed and sighed along with the paralysingly tender music. The finale was breathtaking in its vitality, the skittering and scampering ricochets a visual treat. There was judicious stolen time where the music was discernibly slowed down yet never coming across as slow, the expansive leisure of the pace fitting like a glove.
Bell accorded an encore, ekeing out the familiar melody of Old McDonald Had A Farm Yankee Doodle where the piece replete with deceptively throwaway but fiendishly treacherous harmonics and pizzicato the order of the day. If any classical musician could claim to have groupies, Bell is the best candidate, his matinee idol good looks earning screams from the circle seats. Mirroring his instrument which sounds better with age, Bell too looks better with age, seemingly unchanged through the years with his baby smooth complexion and floppy hair.
To be continued.
The pre-eminent ensemble is the leading chamber orchestra in the world, one of the most esteemed and established, with its name almost synonymous with that of founder Sir Neville Marriner. With the original intent to be a "conductorless" outfit to represent the "collegiate spirit", one found much to smirk at when Bell, in the dual capacity as director and soloist, had a comfy piano bench at first chair, sticking out among the other general issue utilitarian chairs like a, well, piano bench. Same same but different?
Back in Birmingham, Anne Sophie Mutter and the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra some outfit whose name I can't remember the London Philharmonic Orchestra (see comments below) playing Vivaldi's iconic Four Seasons begat a newfound appreciation for both musician and music. This evening's concert was similarly inspired and inspiring.
If one had ever entertained thoughts of what exact purpose a conductor served considering he just stood there and waved his hands around, watching a self-directed performance might very well convince one that one's sentiments were spot-on. As leader, Bell opted for a very audible sharp intake of breath to replicate the upstroke of the baton, and thus was the evening richer for the impromptu and interpolated acoustic delivery which accompanied a tempestuous and urgent reading of Beethoven's Coriolan Overture to start the ball rolling.
Mendelssohn's evergreen Violin Concerto followed and the sore thumb issue earlier was further highlighted when the piano bench in question was removed, since the musicians played musical chairs forwards with Bell vacating his seat for stage centre and Harvey de Souza taking his place. His contract terms perhaps mentioned exclusive use of a personal piano bench. From the grapevine, a leaked clause has it that "Mr Bell does not wish to thump the seat like the elderly women he's witnessed on local public buses."
Playing his priceless 1713 Gibson ex Huberman Stradivarius, the bold and beautiful sound of the instrument sang out unfettered, though one found it unsettling that someone of Bell's calibre uses a shoulder prop, which was an insult to the magnificent violin.
Gorgeous would be an understatement to describe Bell's tone as he coaxed out the bittersweet pathos of the opening before a virtuosic display of his own cadenza with haunting harmonics and borrowed themes from the material. It was a good showcase for the wealth and breadth of potential of the Strad. In the elegant central Andante, Bell's phrasing sobbed and sighed along with the paralysingly tender music. The finale was breathtaking in its vitality, the skittering and scampering ricochets a visual treat. There was judicious stolen time where the music was discernibly slowed down yet never coming across as slow, the expansive leisure of the pace fitting like a glove.
Bell accorded an encore, ekeing out the familiar melody of Old McDonald Had A Farm Yankee Doodle where the piece replete with deceptively throwaway but fiendishly treacherous harmonics and pizzicato the order of the day. If any classical musician could claim to have groupies, Bell is the best candidate, his matinee idol good looks earning screams from the circle seats. Mirroring his instrument which sounds better with age, Bell too looks better with age, seemingly unchanged through the years with his baby smooth complexion and floppy hair.
To be continued.