It’s a Saturday afternoon at the Maison Symphonique de Montréal: the hall is packed, and the average age of the audience is much younger than we’re often led to believe when it comes to classical music. What’s more, this audience is enthusiastic and attentive to a program of three works that are relatively unknown to the general public. There’s no denying it, classical music is alive and well in Montreal.

Perhaps it’s Yannick Nézet-Séguin, at the helm of his Orchestre métropolitain, who stimulates this interest. But let’s not deny ourselves the pleasure of witnessing a state of affairs that must make many other cities on the continent green with envy.

A program of little-known works, as I was saying, with the exception of Poulenc’s Gloria, and even then. The concept on the poster was entitled De l’abîme aux étoiles, or, if you like, from the depths to the stars. It was mainly in the second half of the concert that this musical and symbolic journey was felt, with Lili Boulanger’s Psalm 130 “Du fond de l’abîme” (From the depths of the abyss), a dark, anguished work in which a small flame of hope nevertheless manages to impose itself, followed by Francis Poulenc’s scintillating Gloria, in which the essential balance of forces is reversed: a luminous journey through which a few clouds pass but never gather. I’ll come back to this.

The first half was taken up by an unsuspected gem: the Gaelic Symphony by American Amy Beach, which premiered in Boston in 1896 and thus becoming the very first symphony written and published by a woman, and played by a major orchestra in the United States.

It’s a relatively sunny piece, but the first movement contains references to a traditional Celtic tune, Dark Is The Night. Is this what links it with the program concept? Whatever it is, it remains rather tenuous, musically speaking. The symphony as a whole is not really steeped in darkness. It’s far from the initial abyss suggested by the concert’s title. As I said, it’s in the second half that this really takes shape.

But never mind, it doesn’t spoil anything other than the purist obsessions of semantics doctors. The Gaelic Symphony is carried by an orchestra that has muscle but never becomes excessively heavy. The orchestra is finely detailed and often transparent. Beach integrates many elements from traditional Celtic music, that of her ancestors from Ireland and Scotland. That said, she never turns it into a “folkloristic” caricature. The melodies are straightforward and appealing, and in the context of a beautifully coloured orchestration, one thinks of a sound world reminiscent of Russian or especially Eastern European music. Dvorak is an avowed model. One might even add that the Gaelic Symphony is what the Czech might have written had he taken a trip to the British Isles rather than the USA.

Impressions of dancing here and dramatic outbursts against an inspiring panorama elsewhere made this symphony a wonderful discovery for the visibly satisfied audience. I’d like to highlight the superb solo by Yukari Cousineau, the orchestra’s first violin, in the third movement. A powerfully expressive, richly enveloped sound, almost as if it had come from a viola. Magnificent!

As mentioned, it was in the second half that the upward journey into the light took place. Those who didn’t know that Lili Boulanger’s Psaume 130 for contralto, tenor, choir and orchestra is a masterpiece, perhaps one of the great works of classical modernity (yesterday sung only by mezzo Karen Cargill), surely left the concert having definitively swept all doubt from their minds. 

Du fond de l’abîme (that’s the title) is taken from the Latin De profundis translated into French and portrays with probably the finest acuity the state of mind in which Lili Boulanger found herself at the time of completed writing, in 1916. The young woman died in 1918 at the age of 24, of Crohn’s disease (unknown at the time). Throughout her short life, she endured the torments of her illness and fought as hard as she could. This Psalm, in which she sets down on paper her distress, but also the faint but resilient glimmer of hope that inhabited her, is a remarkable creation, in which writing techniques interweave brilliantly to create a poignant dramatic discourse. Phrygian mode, octatonic scale, tonal scales, chromaticism and harmony interweave in a visionary canvas. If this sounds hermetic, rest assured: it’s wonderfully beautiful and touching, despite the ambient darkness. Therein lies the great genius of this composer, who could have revolutionized modern music even more profoundly had fate let her live. Cargill, despite her beautiful voice, seemed a little discreet. It was the chorus and orchestra that left their mark, in marvellous chiaroscuro nuances subtly woven by Yannick. A few hesitantly precise attacks in the opening bars prevent me from speaking of a divine moment. But it’s a very little caveat, and the emotional power generated by this exceptional piece remains intact. Bravo, Yannick!

The contrast could hardly be greater with Poulenc’s Gloria. One immediately recognizes the Frenchman’s touch, with its slightly irreverent good humour, even in the context of sacred music. Those who love his opera Dialogues des carmélites will find themselves on familiar ground, melodically and harmonically, when the Agnus dei arrives. Smiles of pleasure but with a few gentle shivers of spleen, this is the Gloria of this atypical and original composer.

Yannick Nézet-Séguin, unsurprisingly, was immersed in the music and conveyed its emotional essence to his musicians with brio. Soprano Janai Brugger installed not on stage but next to the choir, made a very fine impression, with a voice projecting fluidly a beautiful light, particularly appropriate, and all this without exaggerated operatic emphasis. 

A program and a concert that can unhesitatingly be described as a great success.

Imani Winds is a wind quintet from the United States that’s a blessing to hear. Made up of black musicians (except for the clarinettist), they aim to bring music up to date for this type of ensemble by playing, along with great staples of the repertoire, new arrangements (their most recent album is entitled A Passion for Bach and Coltrane, which gives you an idea!), works by black composers or by commissioning new works, often inspired by African-American and Latino music. The group, which has won three Grammy awards, gave a concert last night at Salle Bourgie in Montreal. Only their second in 27 years of existence, which is a great shame for us. An all Black and Latino programme was offered to the audience, who packed the Bourgie Hall reasonably well.

There’s plenty to admire about the musicians on stage: Brandon Patrick George, flute, Mekhi Gladden, oboe (replacing Toyin Spellman-Diaz), Mark Dover, clarinet, Kevin Newton, horn and Monica Ellis, bassoon. Firstly, they are very, very good, each of them clearly a top-class soloist. The ensemble playing is impressive in its effortless virtuosity, surgical articulation and fusional coherence. Secondly, and most importantly, for the past 27 years, they have been investing (though not exclusively) in a repertoire space that remains marginal, but fortunately is rapidly expanding, that of music written by artists from racialized and/or minority communities in classical music. Bravo!

All but one of the pieces on the bill were strongly coloured by jazz, blues or Latin music. Accented syncopations, fluid, slightly feline swaying and chromatic colours revolving around ‘blue’ harmonies, this was a catchy universe, but not a racy one. No, because the scores on offer (by Damien Geter, Carlos Simon, Paquito D’Rivera, Valerie Coleman, Andy Akiho and Billy Taylor, the latter in an arrangement) are refined, twirling and full of invigorating effects, often entertaining, sometimes surprising. But what satisfies any passionate and invested music lover in this kind of programme is the extra soul added to the works by their extra-musical references. It’s racial profiling in Damien Geter’s I Said What I Said (the main theme depends on the typically Black locutionary rhythm of the title phrase), the celebration of great black personalities in Carlos Simon’s Giants (Bessie Smith, Cornel West, Herbie Hancock), of New York neighbourhoods in Valerie Coleman’s Rubispheres no 1, of freedom in Billy Taylor’s I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free or the denunciation of the imprisonment of immigrants in Andy Akiho’s BeLoud, BeLoved, BeLonging.

This last piece is, however, the stylistic exception of the lot, as it is a post-minimalist flight in three movements, nervous and devilishly exciting, less obviously connected than the others to Afro-American or Latin heritage. Ironically, the piece by Paquito D’Rivera, Aires tropicales, by far the best-known artist on the programme, is the most “facile”. Not bad, no. It gives the instrumentalists a good workout and is certainly an excellent musical challenge for any professional ensemble. But the juxtaposition of the writing and the underlying theme is more superficial than its competitors

The evening, much appreciated by the audience, ended with an arrangement of Billy Taylor’s famous song I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free, dedicated by Nina Simone. Real jazz, but adapted in anything but a linear fashion. Clarinettist Mark Dover did a fabulous job, turning it into a feverish Theme and Variations bursting with expressive dynamite. 

The applause was long and sustained. Everyone clearly wanted to see them again as soon as possible.

It had been a long time since Ute Lemper had performed in Montreal. The musical legend treated an appreciative Maison Symphonique to a lengthy program retracing the highlights of a career spanning several decades. She was accompanied by the FILMharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Francis Choinière.

The program was original, featuring well-known works interpreted in a refreshingly refined manner. We admired the power and warmth of Ute Lemper’s voice and her stage presence. She’s full of energy, dancing upstage and demonstrating her acting skills. All eyes are on her. It’s clear that the works she presents are significant, not only historically, but also personally. In the first part, she intersperses each song with context and stories about her life.

We laugh a lot, we cry sometimes, and we’re touched in many ways. We also realize that nothing changes, and that history is doomed to repeat itself, again and again. Indeed, Ute Lemper doesn’t shy away from commenting on current political events: allusions to current wars, women’s rights and widespread political disillusionment. Lemper doesn’t hold back, but you can’t blame her, given that most of the works in her repertoire were written with the same sentiments, even 100 years earlier. She even changes some of the lyrics to suit current events. The effect is both funny and troubling.

What’s striking about FILMharmonique is their ability to adapt. After all, at film concerts, the music is set to the beat, of course. That said, the FILMharmonique’s role here was purely that of accompanist, having to adapt to the liberties taken by Lemper and his vocal improvisations. And the orchestra once again demonstrated its excellence. Francis Choinière directed the musicians while being completely in tune with the soloist. Every time, the synchronization was perfect, with everyone on stage breathing at Ute Lemper’s pace. Towards the end of the concert, the singer herself conducts the orchestra, in a way, asking certain musicians to improvise.

Throughout the evening, the orchestra performed several arrangements for solo orchestra of well-known music-hall songs. Here, the FILMharmonic took center stage, without compromise, once again demonstrating its superb versatility. The few feedback problems at the start of the concert were quickly resolved, allowing us to fully appreciate the very long concert (perhaps too long, lasting almost 2.5 hours). What’s certain is that the audience was delighted.

To find out about upcoming FILMharmonic concerts, click HERE!

For other GFN Production concerts, click HERE!

Photo credit: Tam Lan Truong

The year 2024 at Le Vivier kicks off with concerts featuring the next generation of today’s music scene. Last night, the newly-formed Ensemble Tesse presented its first concert. For the occasion, the event was presented in a rather different way: an ambulatory concert. The format of this concert proved to be very enjoyable and allowed us to appreciate the works of the program in a new way.

On entering the hall, the audience was invited to sit on the floor, on stage, around a structure that would be occupied by the musicians. Between each piece, the audience was invited to stand up and move around. There was also the option of standing or even lying down. The audience lent itself to the game, moving silently around the structure at opportune moments. This movement didn’t make the concert any slower or heavier – on the contrary, the musicians also moved around and lay down on the floor when it wasn’t their turn to play.

The program featured works that were “comprovisées”, composed as well as improvised. Co-creation is one of Ensemble Tesse’s objectives, and it fulfills its mandate perfectly. The listening and dialogue between the musicians are remarkable. The works presented are above all studies in sonority, in which each musician pushes the sonic limits of his or her respective instrument. It is essential to underline the quality of each performer, both in their consistently excellent playing and in their ensemble playing.

Each piece showcased a different member of the ensemble, each time in a different instrumental combination. Each work presented a different sound universe. Although the concept remained the same – collective improvisations – the evening never felt repetitive, and the musical ideas followed one another judiciously. More meditative moments rubbed shoulders with noisy, rhythmic passages, and sometimes with great melody.

The concert was enthusiastically received by the audience. The scenography and lighting helped to place listeners in an experimental atmosphere, a little out of time and space, where all frameworks were broken and reconfigured. Ensemble Tesse is proof positive that it’s possible to do things differently and still deliver a memorable and enjoyable concert experience. Watch out for their next projects!

Ensemble Tesse

NOAM BIERSTONE (percussions)

AUDRÉANNE FILION (cello)

CHARLOTTE LAYEC (bass clarinet)

OFER PELZ (piano)

MARILÈNE PROVENCHER-LEDUC (flutes)

GABRIEL TROTTIER (horn)

To find out about upcoming concerts presented by Le Vivier, click HERE!