Mirga and DG: a contract to get excited about

OK, so when Andris Nelsons signed up to Deutsche Grammophon, fine, wise choice on the company's part, but did the world need more recordings of Bruckner and Shostakovich symphonies (good as they are)? When his Lithuanian neighbour to the south of Latvia Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla (pictured above in what seems to be a nice new image by Andreas Hechenberger) brokered her deal, news of which has been released today, she clearly had take-it-or-leave it ideas about the repertoire she wanted to record.

Repertoire which will actually enrich us rather than just give another 'conductor's interpretation of...' (though I'd have been very happy if they'd gone for her individual and loving way with the Tchaikovsky ballets). The first release in May will be of Weinberg's Symphony No. 21, which the composer tentatively suggested might be called 'Kaddish', with the combined forces of the CBSO, Kremerata Baltica and its presiding genius Gidon Kremer - I raved about the live performance, coupled with Shostakovich's Fifteenth Symphony, here on The Arts Desk - and his Second Symphony (Kremerata Baltica only). Next are works by Mirga's fellow Lithuanian Raminta Šerkšnytė with the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra , Vilnius Municipal Choir and Kremerata Baltica. DG haven't specified what 'works by British composers' will be on the cards in the third project, to celebrate the orchestra's centenary.

It was serendipitous news on a day when I was working on a note for the performance she'll be giving with the CBSO of The Sea by Mikalojus Konstantinas Čiurlionis (1875-1911), her country's greatest composer. I'd expected to find this half-hour symphonic poem a bit wispy and second-rank, but it's astonishingly good. Listening to two recordings (by Svetlanov, right up his late romantic street, and  Gintaras Rinkevičius with the Lithuanian State Symphony Orchestra he founded in 1989 - I presume that's the same as the 'National' SO cited above), it's obvious how the young composer had absorbed the sound-worlds of Strauss's Also sprach Zarathustra and Ein Heldenleben. Yet he eventually makes something of his own in the hypnotic nocturne that follows the storm. 

Not sure what to make of the art which took over in the final years of Čiurlionis's all-too-short life - he was committed to a psychiatric hospital with a severe bout of depression in 1910, and died of pneumonia there the following year, having never seen his baby daughter - but clearly there's a synaesthesic connection. The two above pictures are part of A Sonata of the Sea, painted in 1908. The first is entitled Allegro, the second Andante and the third Finale.

This gives a further fillip to my longing to visit the third of the Baltic countries - the first two, Estonia and Latvia, I love and respect beyond measure - to see Čiurlionis's house in Vilnius and the gallery containing his pictures. I also ought to think of travelling up to Birmingham to hear the concert, since I'm hooked on the work now. Here's Svetlanov's performance, a bit rough around the edges but right in spirit.

Deller, VW and the Melodians

That's acclaimed artist Jeremy, not late countertenor Alfred, and his masterly fusion of music and image in the 'English Magic' film which is currently part of his British Pavilion exhibit at the Venice Biennale*. I'm indebted to old friend and frequent commenter Howard Lane for drawing my attention to it. Howard and his daughter Rowan headed to Venice as part of the amazing Melodians, an English/Trinidadian steel band from south London whose talents Deller engaged for his genius selection of British sounds and sights. Here they are on a wet Abbey Road zebra crossing having recorded the soundtrack in an appropriately famous UK institution.

I could hardly believe my ears as the film proper got underway with the mystic chords of the Romanza from Vaughan Williams's Fifth Symphony rippling on steel. That's another one in the eye for the Ukippers who would claim VW and Elgar as their own. It not only sounds exceptionally haunting in that arrangement by the Melodians' conductor Anne Hornby, but it somehow fits with the two other choice transcriptions, of 'Voodoo Ray' by A Guy Called Gerald and 'The Man Who Sold the World' by David Bowie.

There's no need for me to interpret for you the haunting juxtapositions Deller finds between birds of prey and VW, claws of natural and mechanical kinds, the timely exuberant human bounce on an inflatable Stonehenge or the selective images of the Lord Mayor's Show to the Bowie (title not irrelevant - and did you know the army paraded tanks through the City on that day? I didn't). Just watch the 14 minute film here (the Vaughan Williams for the birds begins one minute in). Then watch it again. A little masterpiece, and the EP might be worth buying

Howard commends Jeremy Deller as a Thoroughly Good Bloke who was happy to share the Venice limelight with his steel banders. Here they all are outside the Pavilion. Howard is peering over shoulders at the back; Rowan - how she's grown since I last saw her - is third from the right of the sitters.

Hearing the Bowie again serendipitously coincided with a delightful blog entry from dear Sophie in Mali, who has been getting hotel staff turned bogolan workshop assistants Baba and Papa dancing to Bowie - and they are very choosy, I know, about what non-Malian imports they will embrace (the DVDs we took of Fawlty Towers had them in stitches about their very own irascible hotelier). This photo of our Sophe wearing her MaliMali designs (of course, never the one to miss an advertising opportunity, for I can't believe she drifts around the hotel in that ensemble) jigging with Baba belongs to her blog, but if I put it up here too, it will make me jolly just to look at it.

This is irresistible to dance to, too: Lulu's Bowie-approved cover version of 'The Man Who Sold the World'.

 A couple more YouTube specials to make you smile. I have a feeling that if Austria had entered 23-year old Martin Piskorski, ex-Vienna Boys Choir member currently training at the European Opera Centre in Liverpool, for the BBC Cardiff Singer of the World Competition, there might have been a tenor in the final. The below, his moment in the sun, was THE goosebumps moment of the diplo-mate-facilitated Europe Day Concert 2013 at St John's Smith Square, with Laurent Pillot conducting the great European Union Youth Orchestra.

To celebrate the Irish presidency, some rarities had been unearthed, including the Overture and an aria from Stanford's Shamus O'Brien. Who knew? The Overture is a gem worthy of Sullivan at his absolute best -  I hope not to demean Stanford by saying so - and I'll probably put it up on another post. And young Piskorski has the money note in the big phrase towards the end of 'My heart is thrall to Kitty's beauty'. The instant 'bravo' at the end comes from my guest Debbie York, and she knows what she's talking/singing about.

I could kick J as much as myself for not finding out more beforehand about last night's concert to inaugurate the Lithuanian presidency, also at St John's. 'Some accordionist', he'd said when I asked who was performing, not knowing more - this is THE accordionist of the moment with his charismatic band, Martynas Levickis, just signed up to Decca. Whether he is more than a good player - ie up to the standards of the phenomenal Mythos Duo whose Petrushka transcription is my CD of the year so far - I can't yet tell, but he certainly has musicianship and charisma. This is such a moody picture of him duetting with the band's handsome violinist yesterday, courtesy of the Lithuanian Embassy. And I missed it!

Levickis sprang to fame, unlikely as it may seem, on Lithuania's Got Talent in 2010, competing alongside  the likes of a man who played tunes on his teeth. He baffled the half-witted audience and judges by playing Piazzolla's Libertango, but readily played something more obviously crowd-pleasing, and of course much less interesting, on request. 'This is more like it' gurn the lardier versions of Ant and Dec from the wings. Anyway, he won.

*And I'm afraid it's usually been a 'his': only two female artists in 40 years. Shame on you, British Council.