Eat Me: Andreas Constantinou's 'Wonderland'

Sweetness and dark are all around in Wonderland, especially for boys and girls with dark and inquisitive souls. If that’s you then read on…

The long awaited follow up to Fistful finds Andreas Constantinou on top form, opening the book on a fairytale collection of characters with a story to tell. Some are victims of their beauty (‘The Maiden’), while others are sly predators, concealing plenty and taking all (‘Beautiful’).

Like any fairytale there are shadows in the corners and cracks beneath the surface, but with that darkness comes an abundance of colour as the talented singer/songwriter and performer (he really is a proper Jack of all things, including hearts I shouldn’t wonder…) weaves his evocative poetry through song.

Playing the part of storyteller, participant and indeed accomplice, our narrator unravels his creations and infuses them with infectious rhythm, memorable riffs and a well considered selection of instruments. Autoharp and ukulele are the major voices behind the music, while guitars, piano and percussion lend support throughout. A dusting of synthetics play their part too, looped and immediate in ‘Beautiful’ while, ‘Slither’ uncovers an edgier vibe as the melody and riffs swagger and saunter their way.

‘Wonderland’, being the title track, is something of a standout amongst a set list already standing to attention with its vivid and creative instrumentation - not to mention something of a trip following the bridge – while the all too short ‘B.U.G.’ finds a cannibalistic beast of storybook proportions taking centre stage, the fluffy-sweetness of the delivery belying the brilliantly grizzly subject.

Further highlights include the gorgeously quirky curtain raiser ‘Autumn’, the energetic ‘The Hunter, The Hunted’ and the brilliantly evocative ‘Pandora’. In all cases Constantinou’s vocals reveal a talented performer with a real twinkle in his eye not to mention an imagination both fertile and frenzied.
Drawing the selection to a close far too early for my liking is ‘Lullaby’, which manages to be at once wistful, awkward and entirely uplifting and ends the trip through Wonderland beautifully. I can’t get enough of this; it really is a fabulous, fantastical, indie-folk feast... Gobble it up.

For more information visit www.andreasconstantinou.net

Albums, Oscars and A Single Man

Ahh, there are only so many hours in the day. Fact. If I were to sit and listen to all the music on my desk in one go, I’d probably have grown a considerable amount of facial hair by the time I was done (and then I’d turn around and there would be even more CDs on the doormat).

It isn’t easy, deciding what to give optimum reviewing time to, particularly when you’re the only regular reviewer for a website that needs constant updates and attention in other areas – news, articles, artwork… It’s all about time management you see, which is even more difficult when you remember that you don’t get paid for a single thing you do. There’s a ‘real’ job to consider, not to mention a life away from ‘the desk’. It brings me, often, to wonder why I do this. The answer? I love film music. Fact.

It occurred to me this morning – in fact it occurred to me last week when I was able to do absolutely nothing about it – that with all my spare time and focus going on Music from the Movies.com, I haven’t given anywhere near enough time to this blog. That makes me sad, because I really rather enjoy hacking away at this thing and sharing my thoughts across a variety of scores, events and moments. So today, this glorious Tuesday in March, seems like the best time to do so. I had expected to be working on a triple feature on multiple Oscar-winning film The Hurt Locker, but as is often the case Rudy’s enthusiasm for his subject has seen him delving ever so much deeper into the film, the music, the people and their collective hidden depths. With that in mind I am left with time to ponder the pile in front (and behind) me.

There are CDs in a line to my left in my in-tray… These are ear-marked for my ‘full attention’ and include Christopher Young’s Creation, Shirley Walker’s The Flash and a recent British re-recording of Bernard Herrmann’s Citizen Kane and Hangover Square. I’m excited about the latter, for I love Bernard Herrmann.

Beneath the desk are more piles, one is a pile of discs I have already reviewed (phew!) and the others are titles that haven’t made ‘the cut’. That seems a bit harsh I guess, but there are only so many hours in the day and I can’t review everything. But perhaps this is as good a time as any to give at least some of them the attention they deserve?

There’s a rather nice album of music by Ryuichi Sakamoto, released at the end of 2009 by Decca, called ‘Playing The Piano’. This particular copy is a Deluxe Edition and includes the album ‘Out of Noise’ as a bonus. I’m rather partial to a bit of piano music, particularly solo, experimental stuff… I adore the Einaudi’s and Nyman’s of this world (though I suppose there are only one of each, ha) and I think Sakamoto can sit comfortably alongside. Anyway, ‘Playing The Piano’ finds the composer at the keyboard performing solo piano versions of his film works. The obvious ones are accounted for, and stand out, i.e. Merry Christmas Mr. Lawrence and The Last Emperor. The latter is a favourite of mine and the piano rendering is rather special… I have to say I did hope for something from his gorgeous contribution to the Babel soundtrack, but it isn’t here and we’ll have to live with it. ‘Bibo no Aozora’? I think.

Nuzzled next to that is Chris Young’s effervescent Drag Me To Hell, which I frankly can’t get enough of. As soon as I saw the track ‘Concerto To Hell’ I knew it would be a bit special. Such a title usually means the composer was inspired enough by their own creation to have a play around with it and create something fun and exciting. Elfman is good at doing that as well – as his rather listenable album for The Wolfman shows. I don’t have a hard copy of the latter score… but I imagine I would have given it my ‘full attention’ if I had. (An insight: It’s hard enough to keep on top of actual physical CDs, let alone albums that I can’t see or touch… So if it’s on my hard drive it is not going to get a review. Fact.)

MovieScore Media are ever so prolific, which makes my job harder than ever and I find I have to be ultra picky. Daniel Pemberton’s Attila The Hun is marvellous, really, and Jeff Grace’s I Sell The Dead is rather infectious and brilliant – how could it not be, the man is fantastic. Suffice to say I hope to give Jeff’s The House Of The Devil my fuller attention in the not too distant future. I’m a big fan of Alfons Conde as well, and Guy Farley, so it pained me to have to demote both The Beckoning and Knife Edge to the lower pile. Both are dark and brooding and beautiful in places – the former, by Conde, features some super choral work. MovieScore really do love a good horror/thriller it seems, and I’m always up for that.

I have a pile of German albums to get through, courtesy of our friends at Cinema Musica… Richard G. Mitchell’s Der Seewolf remains in the upper pile for now – it’s rather good. The others, including Annette Focks’ Romy and Karim Sebastian Elias’ delightfully Zimmer-esque Das Geheimnis der Wale, have bags of charm and are hugely listenable. Such discoveries make me happy and remind me – which needs to happen – that there is more to film music than what comes out of Hollywood and London. Again, only so many hours etc. blah blah; you know the score.

La La Land Records are another prolific label and I very much enjoyed their double album of music from The Fugitive by James Newton Howard. I can’t say it’s one of his most inspiring scores for me personally, but it’s good to have such a generous presentation of a major title. Their release of John Frizzell’s Legion was also welcome. Once again Frizzell has created an immediate sound for the score.

This week saw the 82nd Academy Awards… The Oscars used to be a highlight of the year for me; there was a time when I would stay up until the wee small hours, with a flask of coffee to keep me awake. That was before Sky Movies took over the broadcast and I don’t have it, so my experience of the last few years’ ceremonies has been after the fact. With the announcement of no song performances this year, I felt as though I wouldn’t be missing out on much. Then, when a little bird informed me that the nominated scores would be presented through interpretive dance, I knew it was best left alone. I immediately recalled the last time they did ‘Dance The Score’; horrific memories of a man stomping and slapping about on the stage to John Williams’ ‘Hymn to the Fallen’ make me shudder even today. Why, AMPAS? WHY?

Still I was pleased with the result this year. Michael Giacchino is a great composer – certainly busy – and I’m chuffed that his beautiful score for Up stole the show. Sure it wasn’t edgy, or even cutting edge like the other nominees (save for Fantastic Mr. Fox, which was similarly charming and simplistic). Up is a classic, emotional orchestral score in the old tradition and I’m glad the Academy were won over by its charm. I'm hoping that Walt Disney Records will finally see fit to release the darn thing on CD now; come on Disney, a Golden Globe, two Grammys, a BAFTA and an Academy Award and we can't even put the album on the shelf?!

I was surprised not to see Abel Korzeniowski’s A Single Man in the list this year. His score – which featured additional music by the great Shigeru Umebayashi – was nominated for a BAFTA. I saw the film this week and was blown away by the music… Everything about the film was beautifully considered, every frame, every colour tone (and change of tone), while the music was part and parcel of the film’s design. At times it would bend out of shape, distorting along with George’s world view and sense of self, then it would flourish with the most incandescent beauty. Ultimately a simple score, with emphasis on strings, it added so much to the film experience. There’s a moment in the score where the score takes on the soul of Bernard Herrmann, as George’s world is coloured and warmed by the appearance of a sweet, innocent, pretty girl. It was a real Vertigo moment and it made the hair on the back of my neck rise. Genius. The album is available from Relativity Records it seems… I need it.

There’s plenty more to say, more discs lurking beneath the desk and more besides lurking in my mind; but I will leave it there for now. Anyway, I think it’s time for a cup of tea – what can I say? I’m British. Fact.

Music to make merry by...

‘Christmas is coming, the Goose is getting fat…’ though if I continue to stick my hand in the various boxes of biscuits and sweets that are the desk fodder of the festive season then I won’t be far behind the Goose myself. Thankfully I walk everywhere, so any gluttony on my part is soon forgotten with a few strides. Where am I going with this? Oh yes! Christmas music. There is of course an abundance of the stuff and whether you’re a fan of classical, pop, rock, hip hop (shudder) or folk music then chances are there are an array of festive themed tunes and ditties available for your listening. When it comes to film music there is of course plenty to choose from and my iPod’s Christmas Playlist (oh yes, it’s true…) is chock full of some real classics. There is something about a Christmas film score that manages to set the mood just right… Sure there aren’t as many opportunities to sing along, but put on a few cues from, say, Home Alone or Miracle on 34th Street and I guarantee your heart will be full of cheer and all the lovely fluffy feelings that the Big C is supposed to invoke.

While I haven’t got everything that’s out there, my playlist does include some of the big ones and I urge you to grab the following and play them now (well, after you’ve read this perhaps… actually stick something on to listen to while you read, I can wait a tick…)
SO as I was saying… Top of the list for me personally though is the aforementioned Home Alone by John Williams. Not only is it full of warmth and sparkle (celeste and sleigh bells aplenty) there are actually some rather brilliant ‘action’ cues, full of Williams’ trademark brassy flair. If that weren’t enough there are two original songs – ‘Somewhere In My Memory’ and ‘Star Of Bethlehem’ – which are given a handful of airings. The songs were written with Williams’ lyricist of choice during this period, Leslie Bricusse and both were instant classics in 1990 and the former at least has gone on to become a fixture in Christmas concerts the world over. I don’t think ‘Star Of Bethlehem’ is heard enough though, the melody and orchestration being suitably heavenly. Throw in a handful of well chosen source tunes – including Mel Torme’s version of ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ and The Drifters’ ‘White Christmas’ – and you have what is probably the quintessential Christmas soundtrack album.

With the sequel two years later came not one but two albums, this time giving Williams’ second score more room to breathe on its own release, with a collection of songs nicely filling the standard soundtrack disc. Once again the composer deftly created a whirlwind of comedic action, syrupy sparkle and yet more original songs – this time the sweet ‘Christmas Star’ and the joyful ‘Merry Christmas, Merry Christmas’ (again both composed with Bricusse). While it faithfully follows in the (snowy?) footprints of the first score, there are plenty more highlights and with the addition of an adult choir rather than the children of the first score, it all feels just a bit more mature. ‘Christmas at Carnegie Hall’ finds Williams putting together a lovely selection of traditional melodies, a highlight of the playlist for sure.

Using traditional/existing music within a Christmas film score is something that composers tend to rely upon more and more these days and a wealth of scores – including Alan Silvestri’s most recent offering for Disney’s A Christmas Carol – are guilty of this. One of my favourite examples of this came years before Home Alone was even thought of though, and the score is itself one of the hardest to find and even then Santa Claus – The Movie has only been released on LP and Cassette! Henry Mancini’s ‘Christmas Rhapsody’ is a brilliantly arranged selection of Christmas tunes, used over a montage of decades and centuries passing as the legend of Santa Claus evolves and engrains itself into the world’s consciousness. The album – released by Polygram in 1985 – is fairly short and it remains a sought after title on CD… The reasons for it not being available on CD in any form are unclear – likely complicated and legal - but with the recent surge of unreleased scores in mind, perhaps it’ll happen one day. Like Home Alone, Mancini’s Santa Claus features original songs co-written with Leslie Bricusse and with the rest of the composer’s very listenable score in mind, it’s a fine companion piece to Williams’ later work.

Flash forward nine years and pick up Bruce Broughton’s Miracle On 34th Street, which was thankfully released in complete form by Intrada Records a few years ago now. The original Fox Records soundtrack album was a major find for me years and years ago and the ‘Overture’ never ceases to bring about a real feeling of the season. The larger score features a scattering of lovely thematic threads and some wonderfully festive fare, including several Bach-style original source cues. The soundtrack album is brief-ish, but is very well considered collection which features the likes of Kenny G, Natalie Cole and Elvis Presley – great tunes!

James Horner’s The Grinch (aka How The Grinch Stole Christmas) divided many upon its release in 2000, much like the film itself. The film is kinda crazy yes, but it has some charm and Horner’s score is a dazzlingly chaotic blend of orchestra, crazy percussion and effects… ‘The Heist’ is a favourite cue on the album, while the finale moments are hugely uplifting. The original soundtrack album from Interscope Records combines a selection from the score – annoyingly mixed with occasional dialogue soundbytes – and an eclectic song set. The CD and score have grown on me hugely over the years and the majority of the songs offer an enjoyable alternative to the usual fare, with ‘Green Christmas’ by The Barenaked Ladies being a particular favourite. Horner’s own lyrical contribution, ‘Where Are You Christmas?’ performed by Faith Hill, isn’t the most festive creation in the world, and the film version (performed by Taylor Momsen) is thoroughly irritating (definitely one to leave from the playlist).

Now The Muppets may not be your cup of tea, but their Christmas Carol is a staple of my seasonal viewing. Walt Disney Records re-released the film’s soundtrack three years ago as part of Kermit’s 50th Anniversary. Paul Williams’ songs are as bright and jolly as they come, while the late Miles Goodman’s score is a fine accompaniment. The songs overshadow of course, being a musical, and it’s no worse off for it.

The truth is I could go on and on and this blog entry is already dangerously long I think. You will each have favourite festive film music moments and they might include: Elf by John Debney, Jingle All The Way by David Newman (released by Intrada last year), A Christmas Carol: The Movie by Julian Nott – featuring a song performed by Kate Winslet no less – Dimitri Tiomkin’s It’s A Wonderful Life, The Snowman, by Howard Blake, All I Want For Christmas by Bruce Broughton, Silver Bells by Mark McKenzie, all three of George S. Clinton’s The Santa Clause outings, not to mention Alan Silvestri’s duo of The Polar Express and A Christmas Carol. Perhaps The Nightmare Before Christmas by Danny Elfman is pushing it, but if you begin to feel Christmassy earlier in the year than most, then perfect.

Of course the majority of Christmas films spawn largely song-led albums (Four Christmases, Christmas With The Kranks, The Family Man…) with their scores left unreleased or barely registered. The classics remain though and steadily they’re becoming available on CD – all we need is that little bit of Mancini magic from 1985 and the Christmas film music wish list is complete.

Merry Christmas!

The Pink Ribbon Gala

Not only is Debbie Wiseman a wonderfully talented film composer, she also has a big heart and a generous spirit. All of the above were on display last night at London’s Cadogan Hall, where Debbie put on a very fine show, and all for charity.

The Pink Ribbon Gala was organised by the composer to help raise awareness and vital funds for Breast Cancer Campaign, one of the UK’s leading Breast Cancer charities. With more than a little help from her friends – namely the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, broadcasting legend Simon Bates, and a handful of stars from stage and screen – Debbie presided over a lovely concert programme of accessible classical music, not to mention a good many of her own works for the screen. The theme was certainly words and music, with specially selected pieces by poets such as Oscar Wilde, T.S. Eliot and Hilaire Beloc read to music from Wilde, Tom & Viv and a portion of the composer’s beautiful accompaniment for ‘The Nightingale and the Rose’ (as composed for the grammy nominated album of Oscar Wilde Fairy Tales).

The RPO were in fine fettle as ever, at home certainly on their own stage, and with images projected overhead, they accompanied Cheri Lunghi – reading Eliot’s ‘Five Finger Exercises’, Timothy West – who read Wilde’s gorgeous ‘Serenade for Music’, George Layton – in charge of the aforementioned ‘Nightingale and the Rose’, and the ever-brilliant Prunella Scales – reading Beloc’s grizzly ditty ‘Jim’, about a small boy who lets go of his Nanny’s hand only to be eaten by a hungry Lion.


The texts were well chosen and worked really very well against the music – both were given time to breathe, which was a blessing and while they were all marvellous, the highlight was surely ‘Jim’, set against Benjamin Britten’s ‘Simple Symphony: Playful Pizzicato’ There were instances of music without words, with the show opening to the tune of Bach’s sobering ‘Air on a G-String’, while Debbie’s own suite from ITV’s My Uncle Silas perked things up in the second half. Selections by Borodin and Holst – the former’s gorgeous ‘Nocturne’ from his second string quartet and the latter’s always-frolicsome ‘Finale’ from his ‘St. Paul’s Suite’ – were well received during the first half, with the latter putting a spring in our steps on the way to the bar!

You can always rely on Debbie Wiseman to have something new up her sleeve and this occasion was no exception. For the last few years she has been working with Oscar-winning lyricist Don Black on a new musical called Feather Boy. Originally staged with an all child cast a couple of years ago as part of the Shell Connections series on London’s South Bank, the pair have revisited the idea – based on Nicky Singer's award-winning children’s book – and have filled it out and readied it for the West End stage. It’s certainly been a labour of love and I know that Debbie was very pleased to be able to unveil one of the centrepiece songs from the new show. ‘Nothing Grows On Gold’, performed by the delightful Mary Carewe, proved itself to be a classic showstopper with some real wind beneath its wings. The show itself is set to debut officially in 2010…

The evening fluttered by it seemed and the room was filled with a lot of spirit and good will. Ending the show with an encore of ‘Wilde West’ from Wilde, Debbie had us clapping along, with a handful of unashamed yokels offering the off ‘Yee Haw’ to boot. It was a jolly end to a very pleasant evening of music and words and I think it was without doubt a big success for Breast Cancer Campaign. Well done to all involved for putting on a marvellous show.


If you’d like to find out more about the work that Breast Cancer Campaign do, or if you’d like to make a donation then please visit www.breastcancercampaign.org/.

A Great Event: Nature's Great Events

Bristol’s Colston Hall has been at the forefront of its busy music scene for countless years and after a number of rebuilds during its life, the latest upgrade – a £20m extension of glistening foyer, box office, dining, bars and performance spaces – is just the latest facelift. It’s an impressive creation and is a fine improvement, giving the old hall (with its renowned acoustic) the kind of entrance space it deserves, bringing it well and truly into the 21st century.

Ten days of celebrations are underway with over 2000 local musicians and performers involved in heralding the next stage in the venue’s story. With this in mind, the organisers wanted something special for the centrepiece event and they came up trumps with Natures Great Events.

Screened on BBC One earlier this year, Natures Great Events was classic Natural History Unit television, charting more wonders of the world’s animals, their behaviours and the delicate surroundings that form an essential part of their very existence. Supplying the music for the series were Bristol based composers Barnaby Taylor and Ben Salisbury who have each cut their teeth on Natural History productions. For Natures Great Events though, the pair very much took a leaf from George Fenton’s score pages and gave the often jaw-dropping images suitably emotional and epic music. With that in mind, it seems a logical idea to take that music into the concert hall and, played along with specially edited images projected onto a big screen, make a spectacle of it all. And that’s exactly what happened tonight at Colston Hall.

It was very much a once in a lifetime opportunity and the sell out crowd were treated to a specially created six movement symphony of sorts, with conductor William Goodchild leading the brilliant BBC Concert Orchestra through Barnaby and Ben’s music and if that weren’t enough each movement was introduced by none other than Sir David Attenborough himself. It was quite bizarre to sit and listen to ‘The Great Man’ – as he was introduced and described to us – so famous is that soft, well considered voice. To have him there was a real treat and he received a standing ovation before he’d even done anything, so high is the regard and affection with which he is held.

Natural History film is always the most real drama a composer could wish for when creating music and the array of scenarios presented here offered the composers the chance to be creative, comedic, dramatic and emotional. Frolicking cubs were underlined with jovial refrains on mallet percussion, mating Dragonflies with quasi-celestial twinkle, while Lions - near-starved and barely clinging to life - were met with emotive woodwind passages. It was the wide open vistas of the great African plains, grasslands and icy oceans though which saw the orchestra take flight, offering grandly sweeping gestures for strings and brass, while the larger, more ferocious sights gave rise to swathes of percussion. ‘A Heavy-weight Battle’ in Movement II (The Great Flood) was one such example, while the militaristic might of the final movement (The Great Tide) in which a ‘Super Pod’ of Dolphins, joined by sharks, whales and sea birds, mass an attack on millions of sardines off coast of South Africa, was a stunning display. It truly was a battering, with infectiously rhythmic percussive lines – performed with support from local percussionists – and was a brilliantly rousing finale to the piece. A similar scene was featured in The Blue Planet and I thought it would be hard to top Fenton’s brilliant cue ‘Sardine Run’ and while it differs greatly – being more of a 'march to battle' – it managed to raise the hairs equally.

The music and images of course went hand in hand, one supporting the other in all kinds of ways, and as often happens with this kind of performance, it was easy to forget you were in the presence of a live orchestra, so engaging were the images on screen. The sight of huge Humpback Whales feeding on herring by literally scooping entire schools of them from the surface with their bellowing mouths was just one of the many amazing highlights... The lasting shot for me though is of two Polar Bears, seemingly marooned on a lone iceberg in the Arctic Ocean; a poignant note about the future of the poles and the effect global warming will have on those beautiful beasts…

So with more standing ovations and a word or two from the composers themselves, the orchestra went on to perform a specially-composed encore. Played along with footage of the making of the series and introducing the amazing cameramen responsible for what we had seen, it was a free-spirited, celebratory denouement.

Natures Great Events really was Bristol’s great event and those of us lucky enough to attend were left in no doubt that this city really has a lot going for it right now. Congratulations to all involved and let’s hope Colston Hall can offer its stage to more events like this in the future.


You can find out more about upcoming events at the new look Colston Hall by visiting the venue’s website – www.colstonhall.org

With thanks to Paul Preager at Colston Hall

Hammering it out - BBC Proms: Michael Nyman

I know I bleat on about the Albert Hall, but I quite honestly never tire of being in that space and last night I found myself there once again for another of the BBC Proms. Last time was of course for the magic of the MGM Musicals with a vast orchestra, choir and vocalists on stage; this time, however, was a much smaller affair, though no less energetic methinks. Prom 54 saw the indomitable Michael Nyman take to the stage with his eleven-strong band to perform a late night set of music from his film scores and otherwise. A concert by the Michael Nyman Band is always something of a rambunctious affair, the music - and indeed the man himself - somehow unapologetic in their ‘down to business’ approach. Nyman took his seat at the piano with little fanfare and with a wave of his right hand immediately struck up the band for four selections from his 1982 score for The Draughtsman’s Contract. I’m always equally entertained and mystified by the music for this particular film, as it relentlessly and repetitively frolics along unashamedly loud and proud. There’s an air of naughtiness about it somehow, with the flagrant bassy piano bashing along and the brass having a whale of a time until they’re all seemingly rudely stopped in their musical tracks with the classic Nyman cadence; then comes that moment when nothingness pervades and you realise how brilliantly coloured the air was just moments before.

The uninterrupted set continued with a new piece commissioned by the BBC especially for the concert. ‘The Musicologist Scores’ was a lengthy (20 minutes) introspection of sorts, as the composer went back to his roots as a musicologist, deconstructing elements of music by Handel and Purcell, recycling them into his own composition. It was an entirely cyclical affair – as much of Nyman’s music tends to be – with a seemingly unchanging stream of notes, altering slightly with a new angle, a variation here, a new layer there, until it returns to the original root of the piece. It is of course deceptively difficult music, wholly mathematical, rhythmic and brilliantly structured; that said, when it’s chugging along for twenty minutes one’s appreciation for the artistry is overshadowed by a wandering mind and a sore bottom. It is of course hugely experimental music and Nyman’s tenacity in performing it should be admired if nothing else – we were indeed a captive audience and even the gentleman seated next to me following a copy of the printed score gave up at about the ten minute mark.



‘Six Celan Songs’ is a song cycle composed in 1990, based on the intense poetry of Paul Celan. Two of the six songs were presented, and the band were joined by Finnish soprano Anu Komsi who delivered both ‘Blume (No. 6)’ and ‘Psalm (No. 3) with an intensity – in German - that matched the words. It was the latter song which left the deepest impression though, its haunting lyricism overshadowing the much darker former piece, itself coming across with a dreary pessimism – bizarre when the title translates literally as ‘Flower’.

The final programmed piece was the ever-brilliant ‘Memorial’ from Greenaway’s The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover. Once again Nyman’s hat is tipped firmly in the direction of Handel and Purcell, with the stomping bass line seemingly getting ever stompier and the petulant violin seemingly intensifying as if played through gritted teeth. It’s wonderfully steely music and never fails to, perhaps oddly, raise a smile – memories of cooked flesh and all kinds of arty eroticism coming to mind no doubt, not to mention the brilliantly vile Thief (Michael Gambon) who orders said meal (the Lover of the title) to teach the straying Wife (Helen Mirren) a lesson. Classic.

So it was definitely short, not particularly sweet, but certainly a lot to get your teeth into. Nyman’s music is ever challenging, always knowing, but at the same time beautiful somehow. His only encore – ‘Franklyn’, from Michael Winterbottom’s Wonderland – proved this in spades; a simple and elegant denouement which was definitely the calm after the storm. Hurricane Michael perhaps.


The Proms season continues until September 12th and you can catch all the action at www.bbc.co.uk/proms, not to mention nightly broadcasts on BBC Radio 3 and occasionally on BBC Television. See the website for full details!

With many thanks to Bethan Bide at BBC Proms.

Straight from the Lion's Mouth - The MGM Film Musicals Prom

The Royal Albert Hall was bathed in the glow of Golden Age glamour last night as the BBC Proms celebrated the great MGM Film Musicals. The hall was something of a time machine as we were whisked back to a bygone age, with the John Wilson Orchestra, the Maida Vale Singers, and a host of vocal stars performing show-stopping numbers from the great Studio’s glittering heyday.

The project has been a labour of love for Wilson – a lifelong fan of the classic MGM sound – and the concert was the culmination of many months, if not years, of work reconstructing the original scores, literally raising from the dead the notes once put on paper by some of Hollywood’s most talented songwriters and orchestrators. With the decline of the original MGM studio and the subsequent buying and selling of its major assets, the music department archives found themselves out with the trash as developers cleared space for a new parking lot. It almost brings tears to your eyes when you think of the gems – largely notes on a page – that were discarded and probably used for landfill. All that remains are the original conductors’ books, held within the Warner Bros. archives in Burbank and it is those musty, but magical, pages that formed the basis of John Wilson’s restoration. Of course those books held only so much information about the orchestration and arrangement of the music, and so Wilson quite simply had to sit down, listen to the recordings and watch the films to transcribe note for note every part and every second of music.


The result is a tremendous feat and the show put on last night was truly a marvel as this hand picked orchestra, replete with dance band and chorus, managed to quite convincingly recreate the sound of the MGM Studio Orchestra before our eyes and ears. Opening with the swirling ‘MGM Jubilee Overture’ (arranged by then head of music, Johnny Green) I was left in no doubt that we were in for a very special evening. The scintillating strings, and those chorus voices, just smacked of another time and you couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. From the overture we arrived at the first song, ‘The Trolley Song’ (from Meet Me In St. Louis). Once again I was bowled over by the immense sound coming out of the 95+ ensemble on the stage, while the lead vocal by Broadway/West End star Kim Criswell was as bright and peppy as it should be. If we were in any doubt of her skill at ‘becoming’ Judy Garland, her performance of ‘Over the Rainbow’ – which followed – was sublime, and enough to reduce my friend to tears.


Each of the solo vocalists embodied the original performers admirably, while at the same time bringing their own personality to the pieces. Curtis Stigers cut a fine figure as he stepped out onto the stage for the Astaire number ‘Steppin’ Out With My Baby’ (from Berlin’s Easter Parade), while the higher brow figures of Sarah Fox and Sir Thomas Allen (soprano and baritone respectively) raised hairs with their beautiful, velvet tones on the likes of ‘More Than You Know’ (from Youmans’ Hit The Deck) and the classic ‘Stranger in Paradise’, as featured in 1955’s Kismet. Prior to these we were treated to the wonderfully rambunctious ‘Barn Dance’ from Seven Brides for Seven Brothers. The performance was an early highlight and the orchestra proved themselves even further, turning out a dazzling performance. At one point the string section took to their feet, while members of the chorus – not to mention soprano Sarah Fox – let out the odd ‘Yee Haw’. The piece, originally arranged by Adolph Deutsch, is a classic example of just how intricate and indeed difficult some of this music is; the pace was unrelenting and the players were put through their paces and no mistake, but they rose to the challenge and knocked our socks off with their energy. The smiles on their own faces were evidence enough that, while it was hard work, it was worth every bead of sweat.


One of the surprises of the evening was the last vocalist, one Seth MacFarlane. Known rather more widely for creating, writing and voicing the TV hit Family Guy, MacFarlane proved himself to be quite the crooner also. Doing a very fine impression of Frank Sinatra, he brought to life – with a little help from Criswell and Stigers – the likes of ‘Who Wants to Be a Millionaire’, ‘You’re Sensational’ and ‘Well, Did You Evah?’ from the classic Cole Porter musical High Society. The latter saw Stigers take on the Bing Crosby role, and both tuxedoed stars bounced off of one another well, champagne in hand.

There were plenty more highlights and surprises, from musicals both beloved and relatively unknown to the layman. 1955’s It’s Always Fair Weather and the previous year’s Deep in My Heart were examples of the latter, though both provided further brilliant turns from MacFarlane, Fox and Sir Thomas Allen. The latter star had his big moment in the Lerner & Loewe classic ‘Gigi’ from the 1957 musical of the same name, while Criswell brought the house down with the uber-classic ‘Get Happy’ which, if you didn’t know, was composed by Wizard of Oz composer Harold Arlen and featured in the 1950 musical Summer Stock (coincidentally Judy Garland’s final bow for the studio).


It was 1952 which saw the film that would embody the MGM Musical ideal and Singin’ in the Rain remains the jewel in the crown, not just for the talent on display (on and off screen) but also for its iconography. Seth MacFarlane took on the title song, this time doing his very best Gene Kelly impersonation, while the hardy group of regular ‘Promenaders’ standing down at the front twirled their umbrellas. It was something of a magical moment, Conrad Salinger’s beautiful, bouncing arrangement filling the air and epitomising the night we’d shared with this brilliant band and the music of the golden age. That wasn’t all though, as the show closed with Singin’ in the Rain’s ‘Broadway Melody Ballet’, a tour de force on screen as Gene Kelly – convincing studio bosses of his latest idea – descends into the fantasy world of that idea and dances his way through set piece after set piece. We were treated to the entire routine – sans footwork – with the company singing and having a ball. This of course resulted in rapturous applause and cries for more, with the stars returning to the stage for ‘That’s Entertainment’. MacFarlane made fans of Family Guy very giddy by singing a couple of his lines as ‘Stewie’, a nice touch for those in the know.


I’ve seen many shows in my time, musical and otherwise, but I can’t remember a time when I’ve been so captivated and so uplifted. The artistry on display, both on the page and on the stage was truly awesome and John Wilson’s dream – finally realised live at the Albert Hall – was nothing short of a triumph, straight from the Lion’s mouth.


With thanks to Bethan Bide at BBC Proms.