REVIEW: Seven Last Words


Rating: 4 out of 5.

 A stirring evening of music


The Scottish Chamber Orchestra Strings and Chorus captivated a packed Greyfriars Kirk on Saturday evening with a powerful Special Event performance of James MacMillan’s Seven Last Words. The hour-long programme was rich in atmosphere and musical nuance, offering an evening that rewarded the attentive and discerning listener.

Opening with William Byrd’s Ne irascaris, Domine, the ensemble delivered a moving rendition of this lament. The piece’s interplay of sorrow and defiance—rooted in the composer’s experience of religious persecution—resonated clearly in the intimate yet reverberant space. It was a sublime start that drew the audience in with grace and quiet intensity.

The Scottish premiere of Be Still by Daniel Kidane followed, bringing a striking contrast. The work’s eerie, hushed quality seemed almost too fragile for so many ears at once, yet it landed perfectly in the Kirk’s lofty acoustic. Cinematic and mysterious, its unsettling tone offered a provocative counterpoint to the surrounding choral works, haunting in the best way.

The final, titular piece, James MacMillan’s Seven Last Words, was the evening’s emotional and artistic peak. Haunting and passionate by turns, the piece traversed a wide expressive terrain—from stark plainchant to moments verging on cacophony. The performance summoned the drama and anguish of the Passion with boldness and conviction, demanding the audience’s full emotional engagement. At times liturgical and otherworldly, the work evoked the awe and dread of divine judgement.

However, the performance was not without its challenges. The acoustic majesty of Greyfriars, while enhancing much of the evening, sometimes swallowed the text—particularly in the spoken-word sections—leaving parts of the narrative obscured. This occasionally distanced the audience from the theological depth at the heart of the piece, veering toward a dramatic intensity that felt more horror score than sacred reflection. Additionally, space was limited for audience members and resulted in a confined viewing experience leading to an uncomfortable viewing experience.

Still, this was a performance of remarkable ambition and decent execution. The Scottish Chamber Orchestra Strings and Chorus brought a programme of depth and daring that will stay with most listeners long after the final notes have faded. The programme was truly memorable if heavy handed.

You can find more of the Scottish Chamber Orchestra’s season here: https://www.sco.org.uk/whats-on

REVIEW: ASMF with Anthony Roth Costanzo


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A night of immense spiritual and acoustic comfort


One week prior to Good Friday 2025, countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo joined forces with the Academy of St Martin in the Fields under the direction of Tomo Keller. The programme featured excerpts from Handel’s Messiah, Haydn’s lesser-performed symphonic piece, and the European premiere of LAIꓘA, a new work by contemporary composer Osvaldo Golijov.

The night opened with Haydn’s Symphony No. 26 in D minor, nicknamed Lamentatione. Composed early in his career, the work remains relatively lesser known and underperformed. However, it proved an apt choice for Easter, restrained elegance, mournful spirituality, and a hint of hope. Conducted by Keller as the first violinist, the chamber orchestra of ASMF interweaves serenity into the allegro, and the harpsichord implicitly embeds Baroque elegance and ornamentation, even when Haydn is seldom considered as a Baroque composer. The shift to F major in the adagio is gracefully seamless, and in the final minuet & trio, the orchestra offered a more passionate and vibrant interpretation, as if you may already imagine a spring in full bloom.

The super-star of the night, undisputedly, is Anthony Roth Costanzo. Brimming with a dramatic demeanour, this three-Grammy winner brought UK the premiere of LAIꓘA, a newly-composed work by Golijov written in collaboration with writer Leah Hager Cohen. This piece tells the story of the soviet space dog Laika who became the first living creature orbiting earth. Costanzo showcases incredible expressiveness and nuanced interpretation, truthful enough for you to believe they emerge from the soul and emotion of the stray dog himself, even as you’re fully aware that a countertenor shouldn’t, by any logic, be singing in a dog’s voice. He also proves his mastered skills to command Golijov’s highly-fluid, theatrical scores and Cohen’s intricate lyrics.

Costanzo’s great talent is again proved in Handel’s Messiah excerpts. Preceded by a brief reflection on the scandalous story of Mrs Cibber, Costanzo’s rendition of He Was Despised drew from a deep well of restrained emotion blending sorrow, ressentiment, moral fortitude, and dignity. Unlike some other male artists preferring to wear a campy “performative mask“ with exaggerated vocal affect to project a fatuous femininity, Costanzo carefully decodes the nuance emotional landscape of a character and then re-codes them through his own interpretive and expressive lens. There’s an undeniable authenticity in his voice even as you remain conscious that he’s a countertenor, not a soprano, and by all expectations, not meant to embody a soprano’s timbre.

The performance of the Academy’s orchestra, however, isn’t outshined at all. Their instrumental rendering of Couperin’s Premiere Leçons de Ténèbres brought waves of transcendental emotion that easily drowned you. Without the spiritual, guiding sopranos that sustain certain degrees of serenity and sombre, its religious context might be reduced, but the piece’s floating grief is still rather intact. Furthermore, the acoustic of St Martin in the Field also adds to a crisp and even sharp resonance to the strings, reflecting a sonic freshness which I enjoyed very much.

REVIEW: RSNO: Jess Gillam & Shostakovich Eight featuring Anna Clyne’s ‘Glasslands’


Rating: 4.5 out of 5.

“Emotionally evocative, tense, and thrilling”


As someone who has never attended orchestra in my life, I was hesitant about taking up this review. I did not have to worry – as it turned out, Glasslands and Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 8 were incredibly accessible to those without knowledge of orchestra and took me to worlds I didn’t think possible through music alone.

The show opened with the wonderful Anna Clyne’s Glasslands, full of Irish myth and wonder. It was the first of many extremes of the night and set a fantastic tone for the Shostakovich symphony to come. As a big enthusiast of the fantasy genre (although mostly in books), I was enthralled by the myriad of mystical worlds Clyne brought us through with the help of conductor Jonathon Heyward and saxophonist Jess Gillam. The RSNO created such an atmosphere through the auditorium – each minute as thrilling as (if not more than) the last. A true story was created on stage, with the entire orchestra literally and figuratively on the same page. Behind each note played was deep passion and skill. The piece allowed Gillam to demonstrate her mastery over the instrument as she flew from the highs of a banshee’s (melodious) shrieks to the lows of a funeral march. It was challenging to take the eye off the wonderful interactions between the conductor and the soloist, who stole attention with the beautiful Glasslands piece. When Gillam played an encore after a thunderous applause, I knew that if the second piece were anything like the first, it would blow me away.

The beginning of Shostakovich’s piece was beautiful, in a gloomy and foreboding way. Ominous and slow, the tension built into the room until you could hear a pin drop. Between each section, in the silence, only then did people dare breathe and cough – other than that, the haunting melody spellbound the auditorium. I was enraptured, watching this group create art that you could feel in the air. The sense was that war was over, and it had been a victory, but the cost and the consequential new world were not easy. Some segments bordered on miserably victorious; others, a reluctant kind of cheerful. The whole orchestra created a wide range of experiences within the sixty-five-minute piece, conjuring up precipices and silences that could (and did!) take your breath away. At times, certain sections dragged on and yielded momentum, making the audience lose engagement.

However, each further section created a renewed sense of vitality within the concert. It was a masterful display of music, shifting from discordant to soft and silken in the blink of an eye. Each shift in music felt like a change in ideals, in philosophy: the military-esque drumming and crescendo created a character I didn’t think was possible to create. It’s little wonder this piece was banned for several years: the emotion that the RSNO brought out was physically embodied in their conductor, who evoked passion and strength in every movement. 

While it may be evident that I don’t know my musical terms, I did not need to be an expert to enjoy both performances thoroughly. It is strongly recommended to anyone who has not experienced orchestral music before (and, of course, to those who have). The complex pieces wove a complex, complete story with a dynamic sense of style and beauty, and each section had a hand in contributing to the tale being told. Across the auditorium, as the end of the piece grew solemn, the entire audience was gripped, and the thunderous round of applause at the end was most certainly deserved. 

REVIEW: Song of the Earth


Rating: 3.5 out of 5.

The Aurora Orchestra welcomes spring in a refreshing and playful classical concert.


For the 2025 season, Kings Place presents Earth Unwrapped, a year-long series that invites exploration and focuses on our planet, nature, and our place within it. With a perfectly suited curation, the ensemble-in-residence Aurora Orchestra took to the stage of Hall One on Saturday, April 5, with Mahler’s headlining song cycle, Song of the Earth.

With a warm and intimate greeting, conductor Nicholas Collon welcomes the audience to a celebration of nature through musical performance. Collon introduces a fitting opening to the concert – Lili Boulanger’s D’un matin de printemps. A lovely motif runs through the piece, reorchestrated for chamber ensemble by Iain Farrington, and truly paints a vivid picture of a spring morning filled with curious embellishments and shifts in tempo and mood.

For the second part of the first act, the stage is rearranged for the baroque orchestration of Jean-Féry Rebel’s Les Élémens. In a playful and varied composition, the music retells the creation of the universe according to the book of Genesis. In the beginning, there is chaos with dissonant strings and discords that jump out unpredictably. Still, slowly, the disorder settles and moves into the formation of the elements -earth, water, fire, and air seem to bring structure and calm to the piece, with familiar baroque themes running through these movements. A highlight of the cycle is the Nightingale suite, which receives a cheerful response from the audience as the percussionists use clay bird whistles to mimic the sound of joyous birdsong in the hall, infusing the performance with a light-hearted charm. Percussion makes another prominent appearance in the Tambourine movement, which echoes a medieval estampie.

The second act lends itself fully to the headlining Das Lied von der Erde by Gustav Mahler and welcomes mezzo-soprano Fleur Barron and tenor Andrew Staples to the stage. In an emotionally wide-ranging vocal performance that explores themes of nature and mortality, both singers deliver the text with true sensitivity and expression, almost transcending the bounds of the German texts.

I found this portion of the evening’s performance to be profound, lively, and playful. At times, I struggled to connect with the performance as someone unfamiliar with Mahler’s song cycle. Whilst the programme notes were helpful and provided insight into the songs, a written text translation could have further aided an audience member’s understanding. Even as the piece felt somewhat slow and dragging in places, one cannot call into question either the technical proficiency or musicality of the ensemble and singers, with the woodwinds, in particular, shining in this arrangement of the work for chamber ensemble, again rendered by Iain Farrington.

As a first-time visitor to the venue, I found that Kings Place offered a positive experience, with a modern and accessible venue and an excellent opportunity to experience exemplary classical music. The Aurora Orchestra is back at Kings Place on the 4th of October with ‘In the Alps, but there is no need to wait until then, as there is plenty more on offer with the Earth Unwrapped season.

REVIEW: Academy Symphony Orchestra conducted by Ryan Wigglesworth – Bruckner 7


Rating: 4 out of 5.

A quality performance by an orchestra who shone most in the colossal, sumptuous acmes of
Bruckner’s immense work.


Bruckner’s symphonies are famed for their magnitude, embodying the grandeur of late German Romanticism with their rich harmonies and searing melodies. Perhaps best-known is his Seventh, an immense work which sees Bruckner at the height of his power, painting bold and broad strokes with the full orchestral palette. Scored for a large orchestra, there was a palpable buzz as musician after musicians filed onstage in the Duke’s Hall for this lunchtime performance of Bruckner’s great work. In this ornate, grand venue, emblematic of the prestige of the Royal Academy of Music, the Academy Symphony Orchestra, under the baton of Ryan Wigglesworth (Chief Conductor of the BBC SSO), were gearing up for a performance which touched the extremes of musical sensitivity and intensity.
Wigglesworth and the orchestra achieve a mesmerising opening, with hushed tremolo violins providing a delicate backdrop for a sublime first theme, introduced by the celli and violas. The choice to seat the violas and celli in the centre of the orchestra, with the first and second violins opposite each other on either side, was totally effective here, as the standout of the ensemble throughout the performance was the connection between the viola and cello sections. Soaring upward in unison, they sang as one yearning voice.
Wigglesworth’s Allegro moderato was on the swifter side, maintaining a light energy which offered refreshing contrast to the depth and intensity of full orchestral climaxes in this first movement. Snippets of sparkling woodwind and string melodies were complimented by fantastic, doom-filled descending lines from the brass.
The second movement, the longest and most expansive, evoked a much darker mood, a tone set by the quartet of Wagner tubas. Though there were a few moments of uneasy intonation, this was an impressive effort from these students on these strange and temperamental instruments. Their grand chorales imbued the music with a rich, brooding sound which added depth to the movement’s repeated uprising theme.
In my view, the third movement, a Scherzo and Trio, is the oddest of the symphony. Ambiguously sprightly and gloomy, it is hard to present this movement coherently. Bright trumpet fanfares helped tie the Scherzo together, whilst shimmering solos from the woodwind shone in the Trio. But with rollicking dotted rhythms, darting melodies and a driving string theme, the movement at times felt a little mechanical, verging on frenetic, and lacking in precision.
Bruckner really was a master of an orchestral build-up on a cataclysmic scale. In his Seventh Symphony, this is feature in each movement, but most of all in the majestic finale. The Academy Symphony Orchestra and Wigglesworth displayed impressive control here, able to dial up the intensity to an unstoppable wall of sound whilst maintaining a nuanced, beautiful tone. The ensemble was really at its best in these moments, achieving the highest heights of Bruckner’s symphonic climaxes as one. It was a joy to see and hear such verve from these talented students of the Royal Academy of Music. In the symphony’s most exciting moments this was all the more enhanced by noticing on the faces of some performers a sheer, unadulterated glee whilst immersed in Bruckner’s glorious music.

REVIEW: Bernstein, Barber and Glass


Rating: 4 out of 5.

“A varied and rousing showcase of modern classics”


The performance tonight begins with Samuel Barber’s Essay No.2, a piece which itself starts
strong and forward with percussion, then goes on to rise and fall intermittently before swelling
with the string ensemble so characteristic of much of Barber’s work. As with all the choices of
music this evening they make a point of putting on show the great range within these pieces,
and the great range of this orchestra.

Barber’s Essay is only one movement, however and we quickly move on to tackle Phillip Glass’
Violin Concerto No.1. The first two movements of the concerto (the somewhat idiosyncratically
titled ♩ = 104 – ♩ = 120 and ♩ = ca. 108) are heavy and redolent with Glass’ haunting string and
Celeste arpeggios – a cornerstone of some of his more famous work and reminiscent in many
parts of certain movements of Koyaanisqatsi. Chloë Hanslip performs excellently here as key
violin and elevates many of the smaller sections of arpeggiation to an impressive height. The
last movement (♩ = ca. 150 – Coda: Poco meno ♩ = 104) is a different beast entirely – after a
small lull by way of the softer, more mysterious, second movement we enter a back and forth,
almost a dialogue, between light and airy trills one minute and bombastic, big-band-style stings
the next. This was, for me, the orchestra’s greatest opportunity to showcase their skill and
control of the material and they did this with aplomb.

Said orchestra, as is almost to be expected from such veteran musicians, played flawlessly
throughout. The range previously mentioned is truly a defining mark of their performance and
with many instruments serving various duties, for example in the scheme of the different timbres
of each piece, it really is a delight to see the performers tackle each work on display tonight.
Returning from the interval we now have two pieces by Bernstein: Symphonic Dances from
Westside Story
and Three Dance Episodes from On The Town. As a return, these are
appropriately jazzy and indeed are performed with great enthusiasm; this now is truly the piece
which serves to enjoing most of the orchestra in the performance. The impressive swings
between the great walls of sound necessitated by some of the livelier dances and the
mellifluous lilt of the lighter numbers are accomplished with ease and do a phenomenal job of
walking you through the story of which they are a part. This is a section of the performance that
will undoubtedly prove a delight to any fans of the music of Westside story

As the softer tones of the more romantic symphonic arrangements fade, we are left with just that
small selection of dances from On the Town as our last full piece. These function now almost as
a palate cleanser at the end of the night and truly showcase for us a microcosm of the variety
and range inherent in the evening’s performance. We go at first from the brassy swing of The
Great Lover Displays Himself
to another lull with Lonely Town: Pas de Deux (here almost mirroring Glass’ concerto) and then bringing us right back with the loud and jazzy Times Square: 1944 to round out a truly inspired evening of modern classical variety.

REVIEW: The Fulltone Orchestra Christmas Concert


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“Festive vibes, heartfelt moments, and Christmas cheer—all for a good cause.”


One of the best things about being a reviewer is discovering venues I’ve never been to before, and Central Hall Westminster was a lovely find. Its simple yet elegant beauty—majestic without being overwhelming—felt perfectly suited for a Christmas concert with the Fulltone Orchestra. The setting created just the right atmosphere for an evening that combined festive cheer with a meaningful purpose: raising funds for Mind, a mental health charity dedicated to supporting and advocating for those facing mental health challenges.

The event had some serious star power, with none other than Stephen Fry lending his voice as the evening’s host. Though not physically present, his humour shone through as he joked about wanting his voice back after the concert. Fry’s involvement felt meaningful given his long-standing role as President of Mind and his openness about mental health—a reminder of how vital the charity’s work is.

The Fulltone Orchestra, led by Anthony Brown, was spot-on throughout the evening. Their lush sound filled the hall, perfectly complementing the evening’s two incredible soloists: Irish tenor Emmet Cahill, the internationally renowned Irish tenor and the lead vocalist of the celebrated group Celtic Thunder, and soprano Camilla Kerslake, A Classical Brit nominated soprano who has performed with the English National Opera and toured alongside Andrea Bocelli and Il Divo. For Cahill, this was his London debut, and he made it clear he was enjoying the moment (his mum was in the audience!) Between songs, he had the audience laughing with his good-natured jokes about being Irish in London, but when he sang, it was all heart. His rendition of ‘A Million Dreams’ from the movie The Greatest Showman was just amazing.

Camilla Kerslake brought her own kind of magic, with a bubbly, almost childlike excitement that was infectious. She was practically giggling as she introduced When You Wish Upon a Star, a song she was performing for the first time. That blend of charm and vocal power made her performance of Silent Night in the second half one of the night’s most moving moments.

The first half was a nostalgic treat, featuring Christmas classics from beloved films. Hearing for the first time live ‘Somewhere in My Memory’ from Home Alone brought back the wonder of Christmas as a child. I didn’t realise how emotional I would get, but there is something so beautiful about the way music can transport you.

The second half shifted to an all-Christmas setlist, with festive favourites like It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas and I’ll Be Home For Christmas. The choir deserves a special mention here; their harmonies added richness to the arrangements, giving the evening an extra layer of warmth and magic. Together with the orchestra, they created a sound so full and beautiful, I truly felt like Christmas.

As the concert came to an end, I found myself wishing more people had been there to experience it. This was everything a Christmas concert in London should be: fun, heart warming, and full of talent. I hope next year’s performance draws the packed house it deserves, because this one was a true gift

REVIEW: White Christmas


Rating: 5 out of 5.

A lively evening filled with festive classics.


Festive jumpers, sparkly dresses, and the occasional set of deely boppers could be seen throughout last night’s audience at the Liverpool Philharmonic’s White Christmas concert.

Led by conductor Richard Balcombe, the orchestra was largely in big band jazz and swing mode for yesterday’s concert of seasonal tunes, with vocals by Graham Bickley, Stuart Matthew Price, Katie Birtill, and Abbie Osmon (the last filling in for Laura Tebutt, who was unfortunately unable to perform, in a manner both last-minute and expert).

The stage was bookended by two glittering trees, with projections of snowflakes dancing on the walls. The orchestra’s all-black attire contrasted nicely with the female singers’ dresses, whose costume change at the interval left them resplendent in full-length red sparkles and green satin.

The first instruments heard over the course of the evening were sleigh bells (appropriately) during the orchestra’s opening festive medley, which included a bossa nova-esque ‘Feliz Navidad’. The singers then led the way through
a delightfully easy-listening programme of seasonal showstoppers, peppered with some truly awful Christmas cracker jokes (the punchlines offered by the audience were better than the real ones – in response to “what do you call someone who doesn’t believe in Santa?”, someone in the row behind us offered “a non-believer?”). Highlights of the evening’s programme included Abbie Osmon’s ‘O Holy Night’, a beautiful rendition of what can be a tricky hymn, supported by alternately soft and soaring strings. This was well-contrasted by Katie Birtill’s ensuing playful, swing-style rendition of ‘The Man with the Bag’. Graham Bickley and Stuart Matthew Price sang a low-key and lovely version of ‘Little Drummer Boy/Peace on Earth’, and the strength of the quartet’s harmonising shone through during ‘It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year’, which sounded a beat-for-beat homage to the famed Andy Williams performance of the same song.

In terms of the orchestra, percussion, keys, and brass were the standout instruments, lending a continuous big band feel to the concert – this said, the glissando stringsHi during ‘Sleigh Ride’ took the piece to its next level, and the orchestra briefly took on a more traditional feel during a medley of various festive films scores towards the end of the evening. Another medley of more modern Christmas hits – think Wham, Mariah, Cliff and Elton – roused the crowd into a singalong mood, to ensure that we were primed and ready to join in with the evening’s encore, ‘I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas’.

While this glamourous evening of festive hits was, unfortunately for those who missed it, a one-night event, there’s plenty to come at the Liverpool Philharmonic to get you into a Christmassy mood, including various Spirit of Christmas concerts running from December 17th to 23rd, Candlelit Carols on December 20th, and a family concert centred around Santa over the weekend of December 21st and 22nd.

REVIEW: From the Canyon to the Stars


Rating: 3 out of 5.

A dislodged myriad of instrumentation superbly handled by the BBC Philharmonic


In an orchestra setting, it is not often you find strings outnumbered by percussion, but with an atmospheric and mercurial piece like Olivier Messiaen’s ‘Des canyons aux étoiles…’ that’s what you get. On this evening, the Bridgewater Hall’s magnificent concert space was adorned with the delights of the percussive world. Aside from soloists Paul Patrick’s xylorimba and Tim Williams’ glockenspiel, we also saw an array of unique instruments such as a wind machine, a thunder sheet, and Messiaen’s own invention for this piece – the géophone.

The piece is a mystical marriage of spiritual and natural worlds. Philanthropist Alice Tully organised the original commission asking for Messiaen to commemorate the bicentenary celebration of American independence, which drew Messiaen to the wild plains and mountains of Utah. The colourful landscapes complemented Messiaen’s own synesthesia, a condition many musicians have, which, put simply, often involves being able to hear colours. In his life, Messiaen said ‘I see colours intellectually’; his days inspired by the natural palettes of Utah translated into his composition of the piece. Messiaen was also a keen ornithologist, deeming birds ‘the greatest musicians on our planet.’ Therefore, the music often mimics avian wildlife, with specific segments focusing on different species. Both these factors make for an intensely evocative piece.

Compositionally, the piece is a behemoth, running at 90 minutes with no interval, and a summary will inevitably be reductive, but I will try regardless. It is divided into three parts each consisting of subsections within which each evoke an aspect of natural or spiritual life. The beginning is frenetic yet muted with the atmosphere immediately beginning to slowly seep into the audience. The unique percussion is introduced immediately and is here to stay. We are introduced to different birds in varying pieces, until halfway through emerged a highlight, a disconnected yet impressively haunting horn solo by Martin Owen. The programme notes that ‘Appel interstellaire’ was written to eulogise a former student of Messiaen and stands out as a mesmerising movement.

The piece continues with more natural images conjured for the audience including a heavenly eighth movement ‘Les ressuscités et le chant de l’etoile Aldebaran’, plus further birdsong-inspired pieces such as ‘Le moqueur polyglotte’ played with incredible technical proficiency by pianist Steven Osborne. The piece finished with flourish in ‘La grive des bois’, my personal highlight, a piece where the BBC Philharmonic exhibited glorious cohesion.

It was this cohesion that I had craved throughout the piece. I often thought that the insertion of percussion into movements more often conflicted with than complemented the other instruments around them. There were moments where the sound of a gong or the chime of a xylorimba would dislodge my focus and cogency would be lost. I’d like to stress that this was not always the case, with moments like the ones I’ve mentioned above where the piece came together in glorious harmony. However, often I was left wanting just a bit more from each movement. Despite this inconsistency, the Philharmonic were never lacking and hit every note with precision.

So, while the music was not to my personal taste, the experience of seeing such a masterful orchestra at work was worth the visit. It was also an interesting experience seeing a piece that the programme called ‘distinctly American’ at a time where the country is so divided. It was refreshing to see a piece dedicated to the natural beauty of a country which has been marred by such turmoil recently, and I enjoyed being reminded that despite political fracture those mountains, those birds, and those sprawling plains of Utah, still exist and will continue to do so.

REVIEW: Guildhall Jazz Orchestra and Choir feat. Ola Onabulé


Rating: 5 out of 5.

“A night of soulful storytelling and raw talent, where experience and youthful energy shared the same stage.”


There is something seriously infectious about the energy of the young musicians at Guildhall. You can’t help but get swept up in their talent and the pure joy they bring to performing—it’s like it radiates off the stage. That was definitely the vibe at Milton Court, where the Guildhall Jazz Orchestra and Choir teamed up with the incredible British-Nigerian singer-songwriter Ola Onabulé. From the moment Ola stepped out and casually welcomed us with, “Welcome to my wooden-panelled living room,” you just knew you were in for something special. The whole atmosphere felt laid-back, warm, and like everyone was there just to enjoy some really great music.

Ola Onabulé knows how to own a stage, and this performance proved it. His charm, humor, and stunning voice made for a night that felt effortless and genuinely engaging. Every song came with a story, delivered with his signature elegance. He introduced Ballad of the Star Crossed by talking about a chilling crime he’d seen online, turning it into a haunting and emotional piece. Another standout was his tribute to Lagos, inspired by his 11 years growing up there—a vibrant and heartfelt nod to the city’s complexity and what it gave him.

The Guildhall Jazz Orchestra and Choir were right there with him, matching his energy and passion. You could feel the connection between them and Onabulé—it wasn’t just music; it was a shared celebration of rhythm and storytelling. Watching him move, dance, and live through every note while the orchestra played was pure magic. The students brought a mix of precision and raw enthusiasm to every piece, and you could tell they were feeding off Ola’s energy.

The arrangements were something else—an amazing blend of jazz, soul, and funk that felt both timeless and modern. Ola’s voice, with its crazy three-and-a-half octave range, soared over it all, tackling themes like love, resilience, and social justice. It wasn’t just a performance; it felt like he was inviting us to reflect on real issues while enjoying incredible music.

The night wasn’t just a showcase for Ola’s artistry but also a massive win for the young musicians of Guildhall. Seeing them share the stage with someone of his calibre was inspiring and a real reminder of how important it is to support institutions that foster this kind of talent.

If you ever get the chance to catch a Guildhall performance, don’t think twice. They’re not just putting on concerts—they’re creating something truly special, and you’ll walk away feeling lucky to have been part of it.