The 
          Nash Ensemble’s series of mainly English music, 
          evocatively titled ‘Blue Remembered Hills’ 
          is now into its last few concerts, with many 
          delights having been provided along the way: 
          this evening’s offering was the ensemble’s 
          usual pleasing mixture of the familiar and 
          the unusual, although the first half was perhaps 
          a little too much weighted towards the former 
          – one can, however, imagine that at the planning 
          stage someone must have come up with the idea 
          that in order to persuade audiences to come 
          and hear Sāvitri,  it would 
          not be quite enough to have three superb soloists, 
          and they would need to entice with 
          some very well loved pieces to whet the appetite. 
          
        
        Delius’ 
          On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring and 
          Summer Night on the River were presented 
          in arrangements by David Matthews, specially 
          composed for the Nash and first heard in 1998. 
          The playing was uncharacteristically rough 
          around the edges here, and I’m not convinced 
          that the kind of thinning out necessary to 
          create this version did much for either the 
          music or the instrumentalists, since very 
          little of Delius’ sense of what Warlock called 
          the ‘contemplative rapture that is tinged 
          with sadness at the transience of spring’ 
          really came through here. Elgar’s Serenade 
          in E minor for Strings found the ensemble 
          in much more confident form, with the string 
          tone in the slow movement especially finely 
          attuned. The first half concluded with a performance 
          of Vaughan Williams’ The Lark Ascending 
          in which Marianne Thorsen gave a finely 
          judged reading, exquisitely poised in those 
          difficult passages which suggest the lark’s 
          dizzying ascent, and blending mellifluously 
          with the chamber orchestra in the broader 
          passages: she was given positive support by 
          Martyn Brabbins, who had seemed rather reticent 
          in the earlier pieces.
        
        Holst’s 
          chamber opera Sāvitri is 
          only rarely performed, so it was a treat to 
          find it programmed here: reading around the 
          work, the general flavour of commentary seems 
          to be that it is a delightful period piece 
          which flies in the face of all the Wagnerian 
          idolatry present at the time of its composition, 
          but it seems to me to be much more than that 
          -with its fervent declamations, passionate 
          near – soliloquies, intense level of emotion 
          and sweeping lines it owes very little to 
          Holst’s contemporaries but looks instead to 
          Mahler and beyond him to Korngold. As with 
          much of the latter composer’s work, one either 
          loves Sāvitri or loathes 
          it, but if, like me, you have a soft spot 
          for works like Die Tote Stadt, you 
          would probably love it. Holst studied Indian 
          literature and philosophy to a high level, 
          and the piece is based on The Mahabharata: 
          it’s a straightforward tale in which a man 
          is taken away by death, who then grants him 
          his life in response to the fervent pleadings 
          of his wife. A sort of eastern Orfeo, if 
          you like, with the gender roles reversed.
        
        The 
          piece is beautifully set for the ideal combination 
          of bass-baritone, tenor and soprano, and you 
          could hardly have asked for more than the 
          soloists here gave us. Roderick Williams is 
          the possessor of one of the most sonorous 
          baritone voices around today: those who are 
          familiar with René Pape would recognize 
          a strong similarity, and he was unforgettably 
          commanding in death’s sombre introduction 
          ‘I am the law that no man breaketh / I am 
          he who leadeth men onward…’ as well as ideally 
          touching in ‘Thine is the holiness’ and ‘Sāvitri, 
          glorious woman!’ Jean Rigby gave a characteristically 
          committed performance as the heroine, her 
          warm, tremulous tones perfect for the devoted 
          wife who succeeds in beseeching Death for 
          the life of her beloved, and she rose to great 
          heights in her passionate plea – you can’t 
          help but think of them as Plutone and Orfeo 
          here, and although ‘Art thou the Just One?’ 
          is hardly ‘Possente Spirto,’ when it is sung 
          like this it succeeds in persuading us, as 
          well as Death, that life is worth living. 
          The smallest part is that of the husband, 
          and it was sung with ringing tone and poetic 
          declamation by John Mark Ainsley: ‘Love to 
          the lover’ is probably the most well known 
          section of the work, and he made the most 
          of it.
        
        London 
          voices, directed by Terry Edwards, made a 
          positive contribution in the brief choral 
          parts, although personally I could do without 
          those rather vague sounds in the background, 
          and Martyn Brabbins elicited beautifully phrased, 
          highly committed playing from the ensemble. 
          As ever, a thought – provoking evening which 
          sent me back to the music to enjoy it anew: 
          the last in the series, on Saturday March 
          20th, features Lisa Milne singing 
          Quilter and Ireland, as well as performances 
          of the Vaughan Williams D major Quintet of 
          1898 and Elgar’s Piano Quintet: obviously, 
          not to be missed if you enjoy English music 
          – or even if you think you don’t, since it 
          is part of the remit of the Nash Ensemble 
          to inform our tastes as well as to entertain.
         
        Melanie 
          Eskenazi