NNF 2021 - Manchester Collective and Mahan Esfahani
Notwithstanding that I’d already seen a roster of excellent performers, I always assumed this evening’s performance would be the high point of my festival. Who wouldn’t want to see a group known for challenging perceptions and conventions around classical music? And who wouldn’t want to bear witness to a daring collaboration with Mahan Esfanhani? That’s what the programme notes promised, anyway. What we got was a perfectly serviceable, but surprisingly conventional, recital by a group of hugely talented musicians expertly playing a range of classic and contemporary works. I’m not sure quite what I expected – that they would all wear lampshades on their heads, perhaps – but I don’t understand why they set out their stall in such an uncompromising fashion. Perhaps they thought Norwich wasn’t ready for all the daring bits.
The evening started promisingly, with Gorecki’s Concerto for Harsichord and Strings. This was an invigorating, confident outing for this strident, insistent piece. It was described by Chief Executive Adam Szabo in his opening introduction as sounding like the result of a really bad night out. I think that’s about right, though it brought to my mind John Adams in a grumpy mood. One issue that troubled me, however, and continued to do so throughout the evening, was sound balance. Mahan Esfahani was presented as the evening’s star turn, and one would in any case expect the harpsichord to play a prominent part in this piece. Perhaps it was where I was sitting, but there were times when I could hardly hear it. I’ve seen this piece performed with a full orchestra and the harpsichord is key to its tone and momentum. Here, a handful of fellow performers reduced the harpsichord to a (very accomplished) background rumble. The acoustics of St Andrew Hall are always challenging, but this was a great shame as Esfahani is unquestionably a great talent – he was just a very quiet one.
Next up was a selection of Fugues by Bach, included in the programme – according to Esfahani - to draw the waverers in, and these were, of course, sublime. I was mildly disappointed that Collective regular Abel Selaocoe wasn’t on Cello, but Nick Trystadm’s brilliant playing in these pieces quickly swept away any worries on that score. Along with Jonathan Stone and Donald Grant on violins, this was for me the stand out trio of the night.
Beforehand, Mahan Esfahani talked us through the structure of a fugue – and boy can he talk. Undoubtedly a personable fellow, I do wish he’d reigned it in a little. When a very excited Laurence Osborn joined him on stage prior to the premier of his Coin Op Automata, the two of them talked and talked about the creation of the piece. I suppose for some this must have been a fascinating examination of the composing process, but for me it was more akin to two blokes in a pub discussing the various A roads taken on a road trip. I can’t speak for the whole audience, but around me there was a palpable restlessness, and that was a shame. The first time out in two years and they are playing a new piece – no wonder they were like excited puppies - but let’s get on with it.
Sadly, sandwiching Osborn’s work between Bach – we got a second helping of his fugues afterwards – made the piece a hostage to fortune. I’m probably, in any case, one of Esfahani’s waverers, but I was underwhelmed by this newwork. I dare say cleverer folk than I appreciated depths I could not discern, but compared to his Change Ringing or Absorber, this was to my mind a less engaging piece.
The evening closed on Horovitz’s Jazz Concerto. This was memorably described by Esfahani as something Bach might involve himself in, had he been dragged into the wrong room. I think a closer description would be a compendium of theme tunes from every classy TV show you can imagine - and I say that as huge fan of his Rumpole theme tune. It was a jaunty closer for an uneven but intriguing mix of music delivered in an unsteady arc with too much yapping, but it nonetheless broadened my musical knowledge and made me think – which, after all, is surely what festivals are all about.
Walking out, I overheard someone say that they felt like they had got a little piece of themselves back again. They weren’t talking about this concert, so much as a whole series of events they had obviously been to. It seems to me that this is exactly the right turn of phrase. For some of us, going and seeing things, even things that don’t exactly work out for us, is central to our way of life. Being in an audience is not a passive act – it’s in collaboration with the performer. This has never been more evident over the last few days, with musicians clearly delighted to play for people willing to turn up. I may not have been bowled over by the Manchester Collective, but I’m glad I went, and more to the point, glad I was able to.
