A vibrant showcase of new talent and old classics, the perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon
If you’re looking for a musical experience that will stay with you, then catching a performance conducted by Matthew Halls should be a priority. If you’re a fan of Mozart, Angela Hewitt is probably the closest you’re going to get to the real deal, so experiencing Halls and Hewitt together is an absolute treat.
To open, Halls presented the audience with the UK premiere of Robin Haigh’s Concerto for Orchestra. Commissioned by Yoel Gamzou and the oneMusic Orchestra, and given its world premiere at Beethovenfest in Bonn in September 2023, there is something nostalgic about this piece, something reminiscent of Alexander Courage or Miklós Rózsa, yet the meat of it is still undeniably contemporary. Haigh’s background is impressive, his musical pedigree notable and varied, and this is clear throughout – even (or, perhaps, especially) his stint playing and writing for a “progressive heavy metal band” as a teenager. There is innovation in abundance; tuned glasses of water, percussion-like string sections, and a sense of wonder that pushes you forward into some great unknown. The creativity displayed in abundance throughout Concerto for Orchestra set the stage perfectly for Hewitt and Halls’ exploration of Mozart.
You can call me basic, but I love Mozart. I love the humour, the cheekiness, the passion, the sheer imagination of it all… but I have to admit that I find live renditions of Mozart so often fall flat and miss the mark. I’d not had the pleasure of seeing Angela Hewitt live before, and prior to this performance I’d only heard her renditions of Bach (which, by the way, are enchanting), so I had set the bar relatively high, but, as it turns out, I could have set it higher. There is a reason Hewitt is held in such high regard. Mozart’s Piano Concerto No.9 in E-flat major is almost 250 years old, and was written in the throes of Mozart’s youth, when he was just 21. Hewitt and Halls created a timeslip on stage; the music was performed with such palpable passion that it felt almost entirely new. Their energy was infectious – the accompanying orchestra were as committed to the piece as they were, and it was a wonder to me that the audience were capable of staying so still in their seats. That being said, it was clear from the glare of phone screens from fellow audience members trying to record the performance that they did appreciate the Hewitt’s playing. Unfortunately these ill mannered audience member’s decisions to ignore signage prohibiting phone use and to, instead, prioritise recording multiple, shaky, 20 second clips (lest an usher notice and give them a well deserved slap on the wrist!) over the enjoyment of other people, left just as much of an impression as the incredible performance. Perhaps it was due to the perpetrators overwhelmingly being from a generation that one would assume would know ‘better’, or perhaps it was a misplaced belief that a person attending a Sunday daytime Mozart concert wouldn’t feel the need to view the world through a phone screen. Either way, and through absolutely no fault of the musicians or the Liverpool Philharmonic, it certainly detracted from what could have been a near-perfect afternoon.
Maddening audience members aside, after the intermission the show rounded off with a rendition of Sibelius’ Symphony No.3 in C major, which was entirely fitting. There was a dreamlike quality to Halls’ conducting here, and a beautiful, almost frenetic virtuosity to the orchestra’s performance; the music became a synchronised choreography that guided the audience through Sibelius’ movements gloriously – especially during his iconic, twinned finale. The inclusion of Symphony No.3 in C major served as a wonderful call-back to the cinematic qualities of Haigh’s Concerto, providing a gratifying, balanced ending to a performance.
I have long held that afternoon concerts are chronically underrated, and Sunday Afternoon Mozart has gone a long way to solidify this opinion. Matthew Halls is a passionate conductor, whose movements are captivating, and who brings a real punchiness and honesty to his craft that is worth celebrating. Of course, Angela Hewitt is undoubtedly one of the most spirited pianists of our time; she embodies music entirely – interprets pieces in a way that makes you think she could possibly be channelling the composers themselves, and truly makes the piano an extension of herself. Finally, I am excited about what the future holds for Robin Haigue; his music brings the nostalgia of the Silver Screen into the 21st century with a delightful, covert panache, and he has so much potential innovate this much loved, but largely inaccessible, genre of music in a way that it genuinely deserves.