Peter Crawley headed along to Whelan's to check out the Wheel of Fortune, while John Allen enjoyed the Polish State Opera's La Traviata at The Heliux.
Wheel of Fortune, Whelan's
Round and round and round she goes. Where she stops? Well, nobody seems too bothered really. That brisk clicking noise must be our compere's teeth grinding, as participants continually flout the rules of this (literally) revolutionary parlour game. No, wait! It's the sound of Jerry Fish nudging the wheel of fortune to All Kinds of Everything.
Tonight's rules, for what little they are worth, decree that our four surprise artists perform three classic Irish rock/pop ballads determined by the multicoloured wheel.
Fate deals singer-songwriter Tadhg Cooke an encouraging hand, his soft voice doing faithful service to Paul Brady's The Island while jagged guitar strums inject a Thin Lizzy, spandex-taut attitude into Whiskey in the Jar. Better still is Dirty Auld Town's appeal for a tin whistle solo, resulting in an audience chorus of pursed-lipped tooting.
This is the main attraction. The acoustic simplicity, singsong recognition and rough-edged renditions give the event a house-party feel of camaraderie. So grab that guitar Rónán Ó Snodaigh and give us a song.
Kila's diffident frontman is so rambling, his introduction to Fields of Athenry almost suffocates under his digressions. Its performance is extraordinary though: melodically altered and unrecognisably delicate, no one sings along to its startling reinterpretation.
Less courageously, Picturehouse's Dave Browne delivers an irreverent Ride On ("who hasn't sung this song pissed at every party?" he asks) and although the wheel has selected Rat Trap, he substitutes a sweet (but entirely contraband) Always on My Mind instead.
Which just leaves Jerry Fish (sans Mudbug Club) to croak happily through Phil Coulter's syrupy Eurovision standard before a spiritedly husky Teenage Kicks.
Interesting to see Mundy's July join the venerable titles, just as full-throated audience participation signals Fish's True Friends as a contender for future inclusion. That's if future participants will be any more responsive to the politics of spin. - Peter Crawley
La Traviata, The Polish State Opera of Wroclaw, Mahony Hall, The Helix
The ultimate success of any performance of Verdi's La traviata depends largely on the skills of two people - the leading soprano and the conductor. The Wroclaw presentation at the Mahony Hall was well served by both. Ewa Michnik, the company's artistic director, paced the work adroitly.
She balanced brisk party action with well-judged speeds for the narrative scenes, her only miscalculation being a loss of momentum in the Act 2 gambling episode.
In the title role, Jolanta Zmurko conveyed her character's transition from vivacious flirtation, through courageous sacrifice to ultimate destruction, most effectively. Her middle-weight soprano coped as effortlessly with the Act 1 coloratura as her soft singing enhanced the poignancy of later despair. Her one shortcoming was a lack of volume at heavily orchestrated climaxes, Krzysztof Bednarek, her tenor lover, was stolid in both voice and appearance.
But that stolidness was more than compensated for by musical stylishness and complete control of his vocal resources. His was a performance that grew in stature as the drama developed, and he was particularly impressive in his denunciation of Violetta at the end of Act 2.
Maciej Krzysztyniak's Germont père was a far cry from the usual barnstormer.
His constricted, sometimes nasal tone was not what you expect from a true Verdi baritone. But this tonal singularity somehow softened the character's usually draconian demeanour and added to the credibility of his ultimate remorse.
There was strong support and fine ensemble singing from a team of sturdy comprimarios and a good chorus. Adam Hanuszkiewski's staging was 'traditional', give or take the odd innovation like Alfredo and Violetta cuddling on the sofa in Act 1.
Xymjena Zaniewska's well-made costumes were colour coded for each scene and looked well against the permanent background of ruched silk curtains. - John Allen
Roocroft, Tinney, UO/Fischer, Ulster Hall
Symphony No 5 - Schubert. - Les Illuminations - Britten. Concerto for piano and winds - Stravinsky. Symphony No 3 - .
There is no warmth in Britten's 1939 Rimbaud setting, and despite the passion and sensuality of the text, and its strong personal associations for the composer, there is little human sympathy in the music. But Britten creates a bleak intensity of his own, and he shows an astonishing ability to make the orchestral strings sound. In this performance committed playing from the Ulster Orchestra's string section was crowned by vibrant singing from Amanda Roocroft. A masterwork, undoubtedly, but not a piece one warms to.
The Stravinsky Concerto, sometimes thought of as an example of his neo-classical style at its most rebarbative, is positively cosy by comparison, and its scoring for wind and brass (with double basses) neatly complements the Britten. For much of the time the piano is a cog in the Stravinskyan machine, and although Hugh Tinney brought his usual refinement to the part, one sometimes wanted a more assertive solo contribution. It is still good to have a chance to hear this neglected work.
The penultimate instalment in Fischer's Schubert cycle included two of his freshest and most attractive early symphonies. Fischer's approach is still mannered in places, with squeezebox dynamics and oddly effete final chords, and aggressive in others, with the outer movements of the Third sounding dangerously like a timpani concerto at times. But there was plenty of spirit, and phrasing has become more assured than in previous instalments. Much of the playing was stylish, despite the fast tempi, and in places even charming. - Dermot Gault
Oslo String Quartet, St Stephen's Church, Dublin
Genesis - Nils Henrik Asheim. Quartet in E flat, K428 - Mozart. Quartet in B flat. Op 130 - Beethoven.
Asheim's Genesis hardly lives up to its Biblical inspiration; it is short in time and meagre in material. In its six minutes the opening chord gradually expands with minimalist flurries of notes but the six days of creation, if they are what is represented, are surprisingly featureless.
The fourth of the quartets that Mozart dedicated to Haydn, that in E flat, finds the composer once again so at ease with the conventional structures he uses that he appears to transcend them, effortlessly. And the playing of the Oslo Quartet also seems effortless; the music is never forced but flows in its appointed course with every appearance of freedom. The quality of the music was matched by the quality of the performance, every mood, whether cheerful or yearning or solemn, finding its just expression.
The performance of Beethoven's Op 130 was equally rewarding. There was no forcing of tone or pace; the intensity of Beethoven's vision shone through the transparency of the playing and each of the movements had a touch of the sublime. The fifth movement Adagio molto espressivo seems to bring time to a stop and the jolly Finale is inevitably an anti-climax, though the Oslo Quartet made it sound more profound than usual. The original Finale, the Grosse Fuge, is perhaps not the perfect ending either, but one would have liked to hear the Oslo Quartet play it. - Douglas Sealy
OLCS, RTÉCO/Ó Duinn. Mahony Hall, The Helix
Symphony of Psalms - Stravinsky. Ein deutsches Requiem - Brahms.
Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms, "composed for the glory of GOD and dedicated to the Boston Symphony Orchestra on the occasion of the 50th anniversary of its existence," is among the greatest choral works of the 20th century.
It's not, however, a clear favourite with choral societies. Stravinsky wrote with children's voices in mind and called for an unusual orchestra, without violins, violas or clarinets, but otherwise rich in woodwind and brass, and with two pianos and harp, to boot.
This uniquely-coloured work has something of the surface linear severity of modernist architecture, but its underlying emotional complexity can be gauged from the composer's description of the texts he set from Psalms 38, 39 and 150, as "poems of exaltation, but also of anger and judgment, and even of curses".
It's not, to be honest, the style of music one would most immediately associate with Our Lady's Choral Society, and Saturday's performance at The Helix marked the choir's first attempt at the work.
The encounter was not a musically rewarding one. Tuning was often awry, and the playing of the RTÉ Concert Orchestra under Proinnsías Ó Duinn was often pretty ragged, too.
The other piece in the programme, Brahms's Ein deutsches Requiem - remarkably, another first for the choir - seemed a better choral match for the performers, although much of the singing was hardly what you could call comfortable.
Their contribution can't have been helped by the way the conductor often seemed almost impatient with the music, matter-of-fact where he needed to be atmospheric, and almost cold-hearted where warmth was called for.
Lynda Lee was the forthright soprano soloist, her vibrato rather too tremulously consistent for my taste. The visiting Icelandic bass, Tómas Tómasson, brought a firmer vocal production and a fully engaging gravitas that made his contributions the highlight of the evening. - Michael Dervan
