EIF Music reviews: Sidiki Dembele | Bamberger Symphoniker | Elizabeth Llewellyn & Simon Lepper

Drumroll please... master of African percussion Sidiki Dembele gets our latest batch of EIF music reviews off to a rousing start

Sidiki Dembele at The Hub | Maxime Ragni

MUSIC

Sidiki Dembele ★★★

The Hub

Sidiki Dembele made a solemn, incantatory entrance, stepping out of darkness and chanting as he settled himself at a big, round kalabash drum from which he coaxed thumps and percussive flurries. When it finally simmered into silence he established a congenial audience rapport with his beaming: “Hello Edinburgh!”

His fingers flickering dazzlingly precise patterns from the kalabash, Dembele, who comes from a dynasty of griot tradition-bearers, then switched to a hefty, goblet-shaped djembe. This common drum across West Africa was, he explained, a potent, indeed spiritual, symbol of togetherness and mutual respect.

“I’m married to this instrument,” he declared, embarking on what seemed a pretty volatile domestic relationship, tapping, slapping and walloping the drum, alternating staccato vocalising with machine-gun percussive bursts.

The precision and dexterity of his technique was impressive, although it might have been interesting – and a break from solid percussion – to hear him perform on one of the West African lutes or harp-ouds he also plays. As it was, however, he worked the audience convivially, splitting us into two halves to join in choruses, orchestrated hand-clapping hocketing from side to side of the hall. Steve Reich would have been impressed. Jim Gilchrist

MUSIC

Bamberger Symphoniker: Hans Rott's First Symphony ★★★★

Usher Hall

If curiosity counts, then this opening programme in the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra’s current Festival residency had something intriguing to say. If quality counts, its decision to unearth Hans Rott’s Symphony No 1 is slightly more questionable. In the event, the curious were small in number – a poor turnout – and quality lay foremost in the performance. 

Rott was a pupil of Bruckner (a contemporary of Mahler) whose short life descended into a psychotic hell. Experiencing this hour-long symphony is to witness a mind firing in all directions, seething with obsessive frustrations, yet capable too of surprising calm. 

Chief conductor Jakub Hrůša and his orchestra took the bull by the horns. Whether cast among hyper-Wagnerian pomposity, the Mahlerian skittishness of the Scherzo, the translucent schmaltz arising out of a Western movie-style trumpet intro, or an endless finale, complete respect informed every mind-boggling moment. The same applied to another curiosity, Bruckner’s seemingly experimental Symphonic Prelude, which opened the evening.

But the unquestionable highlight was Scots mezzo-soprano Catriona Morison’s breathtaking performance of Mahler’s Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen. Her voice has evolved into something exceptionally rich, supremely powerful and poetically heart-stopping. In this the non-curious missed a treat. Ken Walton

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MUSIC

Elizabeth Llewellyn & Simon Lepper ★★★★

Queen’s Hall

 

In homing in on handfuls of songs by six composers, with texts in five different languages, soprano Elizabeth Llewellyn and pianist Simon Lepper offered a rather fascinating cross-sectional perspective on 19th and early 20th century art song at the Queen’s Hall.

Elizabeth Llewellyn

In English, poems by Thomas Hardy are gathered together to form Finzi’s The Earth Outwears. Bringing out the contemplative charm of rustic living, Llewellyn and Lepper gently spun their country tales with warmth and perception. Llewellyn’s capacity for effortless smooth, richly coloured long, lyrical lines was well suited for the more soul-searching character of Chausson, the voice opening up with growing clarity in the upper register in songs of sailing, hummingbirds and butterflies.

With Lepper as accompanist, the duo was intuitively tight-knit. It was frustrating at times though not to hear more of him, especially in the masterly piano scoring by Dvořák and Puccini which was too discreet to be heard to its full extent. Also in English, Six Sorrow Songs by Samuel Coleridge-Taylor were grittier than the Finzi, moving to deeper emotional expression and beauty, with Llewellyn’s diction negating the need for the distraction of digital surtitles above her. Carol Main