Inside Southbank Sinfonia

An orchestra like no other, based in the heart of London

Leave a comment

The melodies of Rossini

JordiJuan-Perez1Jordi Juan-Perez

The melodies of Rossini are really very special. Throughout his music, he takes them and manipulates them in amazing ways. In each of Rossini’s operas – perhaps especially in The Barber of Seville – one of his great talents as a composer was to match melody to instrument, using the strengths of both halves to create an incredible whole. He also had an uncanny ability to share melodies between instruments, bouncing them around an orchestra like it was the most natural thing, all the while teasing out huge changes in phrasing.

In his Introduction, Theme and Variations, I’ll be playing an operatic introduction – one that sings – followed by a theme and five variations. For me, the piece has a little bit of everything. The first theme is very funny and light, yet a variation of it, in a minor key, is intimate and incredibly beautiful. The phrasing too is so varied. The main theme is short and highly articulated, but he twists it into a very legato (smooth) section, or a long, song-like section, or the lively, acrobatic finale.

One of the clarinet’s greatest strengths is its flexibility. It can be very soft or raucously loud (or anything in between), all played with a huge variety of colour. Rossini understood extremely well what it offered to music, and how best to extract it. He could take a melody and really exploit the flexibility of the clarinet to add something extra to it. The last variation in this piece, for example, is truly extraordinary.

I haven’t yet had the chance to play Introduction, Theme and Variations with an orchestra and I’m so excited to do so. In previous concerts I’ve played with a pianist, but with an orchestra you have so many extra inflections from all the other instruments and huge variations in volume. To play with an orchestra, you have to expand everything you have done previously and think again about just what kind of colours Rossini is asking for.

Jordi performs Rossini’s Introduction, Theme and Variations in our Free Rush Hour Concert, 6.00pm, Thursday 14 July at St John’s Waterloo, and at the Anghiari Festival.

Find out more about Jordi Juan-Perez here.

Leave a comment

Painting Stravinsky

AliceThompsonAlice Thompson

As part of the Philharmonia’s Myths & Rituals festival, Southbank Sinfonia will perform three pieces by Stravinsky, including Jeu de cartes, his ballet wittily dealt in three hands. As one of the flute players in the orchestra this year, this is a concert I’ve been particularly looking forward to. Stravinsky’s flute parts are always a welcome challenge, fully exploring our range (from low to high), our tone colours (from dark to hollow) and our ability to characterise different musical phrases. I love the way that Stravinsky’s music has so many facets, not least the big lush melodies contrasted with highly rhythmical sections. My very first encounter with Stravinsky’s music was hearing one such lush melody: the unison finale of The Firebird.

However, I did not hear this in the most conventional of ways…

It was in 1998, aged seven, that I first went to see YES live at both Newcastle City Hall and Sheffield City Hall. My parents were big fans of the progressive rock band long before my sister or I were born, so we grew up listening to their songs. I wanted to be like Rick Wakeman, their lead keyboard player. It was one of the band’s traditions that they came on stage to The Firebird Suite, and that was my first introduction to Stravinsky.

My next Stravinsky encounter happened around the age of 12 on my first trip to Salts Mill in Saltaire (West Yorkshire). There I saw an exhibition of opera and ballet set designs by David Hockney, including Mozart’s Magic Flute, Puccini’s Turandot, Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde, and four inspired by Stravinsky’s The Rake’s Progress, Le Sacre du Printemps, Le Rossignol and Oedipus Rex. This was the first time I thought about how music can evoke a visual response, and it inspired me to go home and produce a set design for Stravinsky’s Firebird.


A set design for The Firebird, created when I was 12

It wasn’t until 2006, three years later, that I performed some Stravinsky for the first time. As part of the National Youth Orchestra of Great Britain, we performed Stravinsky’s Concerto for Piano and Winds at the Barbican and I remember in the first rehearsal sitting there, wondering how to count a piece that looked so rhythmically complex… then inevitably getting lost as the time signatures leapt around.

But throughout the years, music and painting in combination has been a topic I’ve thought about a lot. In fact, the subject for my Master’s research while in The Hague, The Netherlands was titled The Painting Musician. In it, I tried to answer three main questions:

  1. Will the musician find that the act of painting their piece makes them more imaginative and clearer in the message they want to portray when performing to the audience?
  2. Is it important whether or not the musician paints their piece in an abstract style or a representational/figurative style?
  3. What is the importance of colour and form to the musician?

While I was researching, I happened to be practising a flute orchestral excerpt from Stravinsky’s Jeu de cartes and so I painted Act 2 Variation 4 in both a figurative style and in an abstract style, thinking about the colours and forms I wanted to use.


Paintings of Jeu de cartes in a figurative style (left) and an abstract style (right)

The figurative painting depicts the main character of the ballet, the Joker. There’s an element of conflict, which represents the constant alternation between neighbouring notes, often juxtaposed an octave apart. The spears are prodding the Joker, mimicking the staccato in the excerpt, while the vibrant and saturated colours indicate the loud dynamic marking of the variation.

The abstract painting concentrates on the shape and the nuances of the solo flute line. The colour filled triangles show accents, while the zig-zags represent the frequent note leaps in the solo. Musical symbols are also present, much in the style of Paul Klee.

I found that painting the music helped me focus on its message rather than its technical difficulties, providing a different frame through which to think about it. It’ll certainly be in my mind when we’re rehearsing Jeu de cartes this month. Perhaps, one day, my journey will travel full circle and I’ll have the opportunity to play – and maybe even paint – the finale from The Firebird.

Hear Southbank Sinfonia perform a selection of Stravinsky works in our Free Rush Hour Concert, 6.00pm, Thursday 30 June at St John’s Waterloo. Find out more about the concert here.

Find out more about Alice Thompson here.

Leave a comment

Life through the lens: An orchestra in Paris

KanaKawashimaKana Kawashima

After sold-out debut concerts in 2014, Southbank Sinfonia returned to the iconic Notre-Dame de Paris in May 2016 for a performance alongside the UK Parliament Choir. From the very heart of the orchestra, Kana picks her favourite tour shots in her photo blog.

Find out more about Kana Kawashima here.

Notre-Dame Cathedral, a venue that carries sound in a way incomparable to any other I’ve played in:


The views from a chair right in the middle of the orchestra:


French snapshots and inspirations:


Because after all, we’re just a group of musicians enjoying our time in Paris:

All photographs ©Kana Kawashima 2016.

Leave a comment

How to memorise a concerto

SujinParkSujin Park

I can’t remember exactly how young I was, but a long time ago I watched a video of Hilary Hahn playing the Brahms Violin Concerto and it just blew me away. After seeing that, I knew it was something I wanted to try myself. I find a real thrill in performing things that are technically demanding, and this concerto is known to be a tough challenge. But more than that, I love the piece: the melodies really touch me, and the whole thing is just so fiery and intensely passionate. I’ve always wanted to play it and now I’m just so excited to finally be able to with Southbank Sinfonia.

Divide and conquer
When you first start tackling any solo piece, it’s a case of breaking it down. I play and memorise very little sections, then bolt more and more together to make the memorised sections larger and larger. When it’s long enough, I’ll practise playing through that segment to get it feeling really secure before moving on and repeating the same process. Play it through, add new bits on, play it through.

I’m currently doing this for the third movement of the concerto. So, taking today as an example, I took a certain few bars, worked through them slowly, gradually built them up, then added a few more. This process is repeated over and over, bar by bar, and although it’s time consuming, that’s just what it takes to really get to know a piece.

That crazy person on the bus…
Getting to grips with a concerto inevitably takes hours and hours of playing in a practise room, but there are other ways – and places – to rehearse too. Mental practise is something that I find really works for me and I spend my time travelling on London’s buses to go over the music in my head. I picture myself playing and, for example, if there’s a big shift I would visualise having my violin in hand and the positioning of my fingers as they reach for notes. I go through this same thinking when I’m playing the actual instrument, ‘this is how far I shift, this is how far it feels to reach that note for it to be in tune’, so my mental practise is just a lifelike visualisation of what’s required.

Watch (and listen) and learn
YouTube and recordings are big inspirations when preparing a concerto. I get ideas listening to different players, picking and choosing what appeals the most, and then bring everything together to contribute to my own interpretation. When I’m performing with an orchestra or a piano, I also listen to recordings to know how the whole piece fits together. That way when I’m actually performing it nothing comes as a surprise.

Recordings are particularly rich sources of inspiration for really fine details and subtleties, but there’s a point at which I stop listening to them in the lead up to a concert to focus on my own performance. Little things like hearing another musician’s bow changes can be dangerous, something that can be off-putting if they differ from a particular bowing I’ve been practiscing and know I’ll be using. Clarity of thought in my own performance is important in the build-up to the concert.

More than just notes
Of course, there’s more to a performance than just playing several thousand notes – there’s also a lot of physicality to think about. My last professor taught me a great deal about being a performer; it’s not enough to know what you want inside your head, you also have to be able to convey that to the audience. You need to give visual clues, using body language to guide them through the music with you, and there are moments throughout the concerto where I’ll want to move a little bit more to physically convey something extra. The only thing I can’t control are my facial expressions!

Hear Sujin and Southbank Sinfonia perform the concerto at 6.00pm, Thursday 19 May at St John’s Waterloo. Find out more about the concert here.

Find out more about Sujin Park here.

In the meantime, watch Sujin’s inspiration, Hilary Hahn, perform the Brahms Violin Concerto with the Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra in the video below.

Leave a comment

“This concerto is like a wild animal”

Mathieu Foubert

On Thursday 12 May, Southbank Sinfonia cellist Mathieu Foubert tackles Shostakovich’s mighty Cello Concerto No.1 in a Free Rush Hour Concert. Watch his preview above and read his words below for an insight into one of the great instrumental challenges. 

This concerto is like a wild animal. It’s a like a great fish that’s difficult to catch, then just as you think you’ve got it, it slips through the net and you have to learn it again. And again, and again. You can’t have it in your fingers for a lifetime.

It’s a difficult piece to learn even today, when we know Shostakovich’s language. I can only imagine what it must have been like for Rostropovich – the cellist who first played it – because the language would have been so strange. I remember when I first looked at the part when I was teenager being afraid at the number of notes, and it took – and still takes – many hours of slow practice. It really does demands a lot of sweat and blood to get to know it.

That said, this piece is very special for me as it was the first really big concerto I played as a teenager. It’s a really fun piece because it’s been built for the cello and the cellist. It makes the cello sound great all the time. It also requires a lot of strength because for so much of the time it’s really loud and really fast, and you need to fight a big orchestra. You have to compete with their sound, so it’s incredibly demanding for the soloist.

It’s difficult to pick just one favourite moment from the piece because it’s a long, action-packed trip from the beginning to the end, and there are amazing parts in every movement. But it all builds to the last movement, ending up totally crazy with a fortissimo so huge that you almost break your cello!

Three words to describe this concerto?

Sarcastic, definitely. Mad… and fun.

Hear Mathieu and Southbank Sinfonia perform the concerto at 6.00pm, Thursday 12 May at St John’s Waterloo. Find out more about the concert here.

Find out more about Mathieu Foubert here.

Leave a comment

Solving the mystery of Telemann’s Concerto


Imogen Hancock

Every piece of music has secrets. Some are small; the odd surprise as you play through for the first time. Others are much larger, requiring investigation, experimentation and some tough decisions.

Georg Philipp Telemann’s Concerto in Eb Major for Two Trumpets falls into the latter category.

In March, Southbank Sinfonia went back in time for an entirely Baroque programme played largely unconducted with authentic period bows and gut strings. The trumpet section (Etty Wake and I) were given the chance to perform Telemann’s lesser-known concerto, an interesting challenge for a number of reasons…

Horn or Trumpet?
Our first challenge? Working out which instruments to actually play the concerto on! There is a big question mark over what the concerto was intended for: in the original score Telemann writes ‘Tromba Selvatiche’ (‘forest trumpets’), but it is not clear exactly what these instruments are. Some speculate that they were actually more similar to the horn, but it is almost impossible that a horn player could have played the higher solo part at the written pitch. I recently heard a recording of this concerto on horns and both solo parts were, in fact, played an octave lower. It is also puzzling that Telemann would have written ‘Tromba’ instead of ‘Corni’ on the score if he had really intended for it to be played on horns.

Old or new?
Having concluded that the concerto is indeed supposed to be played on trumpets, the options available to us were either the Baroque (natural) trumpet or the piccolo trumpet.


Performing in Southbank Sinfonia’s Free Rush Hour Concert at St John’s Waterloo

The natural trumpet is played much more commonly nowadays and is shaped like one long, curved pipe with holes in the tubing. A player can cover certain holes with their fingers to help with tuning, but the changes in pitch are mostly created by the tightness of the lips – where the really hard work happens. This can make playing certain repertoire extremely difficult on these instruments. In contrast, the piccolo trumpet is a smaller (octave higher) version of a modern trumpet. Playing this trumpet still requires a lot of tension at the lips, but a smaller mouthpiece and valves make it more manageable in the higher range.

Compared to the more piercing sound of the piccolo trumpet, the natural trumpet may have been more sympathetic to the tone of the gut strings. However, the incredibly high and virtuosic nature of the solo parts meant that we didn’t have much choice but to play on piccolo trumpets. To complicate matters further, although our string colleagues were using Baroque bows and strings, they were still playing at modern pitch (A=440). This in turn raised the pitch of the trumpet parts by a semitone which, although only sounding like a small step up, actually requires a huge increase in pressure. The piccolo trumpets really were the obvious choice.

‘To repeat or not to repeat? That is the question…’
The next challenge was deciding on the format of the concerto. Telemann wrote repeats into the second and fourth movements (the livelier movements of the concerto) and from this it is clear that he was not a trumpet player..! The level of stamina and endurance required by the trumpet soloists to play all of the repeats is immense, and it is for this reason that most recordings don’t include them all.


Rehearsing at St George’s Hanover Square, ahead of a London Handel Festival performance.

Nevertheless, our guest Leader Adrian Butterfield was very keen to follow Telemann’s original instructions. It took a lot of practice to develop the strength to play so high for so long, but the extra effort was certainly worth the reward. It was a truly euphoric feeling to successfully reach the end of each performance and the concerto also felt much more balanced with this structure. The acoustics at St George’s Hanover Square (the church that Handel used to attend) were wonderful and really helped the piccolo trumpet sound to blend with the strings and harpsichord.

The process of preparing for this concerto was quite unlike anything else I’ve done. Before even playing a note, Telemann presented us with mysteries which required a remarkable amount of thought and decision-making! Yet, having unlocked some of the secrets of this concerto, the performances felt all the more intense, confident and satisfying.

Find out more about Imogen Hancock  here.

Leave a comment

Southbank Sinfonia 2016 New Music Playlist

So we all know our composers from Vivaldi to Mozart, Beethoven to Wagner. But revolutionary symphonies and imaginative chamber works don’t just come from the past. As composers like Stravinsky and Webern extended the musical language in the 20th century, today’s composers are constantly bringing up fresh, exciting ideas to change the fabric of classical music. 

To give you a flavour of the cutting-edge ideas classical music is throwing at us today, we grabbed some of our musicians, asking them what their favourite contemporary pieces are to create the ultimate ‘Southbank Sinfonia 2016 New Music Playlist’.



Caleb Sibley (Viola) – Steve Reich Violin Phase (1967)

“There’s something I find simply mesmerising about this piece; it’s an amazing combination of the hypnotic and absolutely engaging. When I listen to this piece time stands still. I can’t explain it… You’ll just have to listen to it for yourself!”



Imogen Hancock (Trumpet) – Thomas Adès …but all shall be well (1993)

“…but all shall be well is an atmospheric work for orchestra, and conjures up mysterious moods like no other. The piece draws out a wonderful array of colours from every corner of the orchestra, and I find it mesmerising and terrifying in equal measure!”



Mathieu Foubert (Cello) – Steve Reich Triple Quartet (1998)

“In the purest style of Reich, this piece is a model of precise clockwork music that transports the audience (and the players!) in an irresistible trance.”



Alice Thompson (Flute) – Oliver Knussen Masks (1969)

“I really enjoy performing this piece because alongside just playing the notes, Knussen makes acting suggestions. It’s really fun to be imaginative not only with the way I play the notes and phrases, but also with my facial expressions and body movements.”



Sarah Berger (Cello) – Joby Talbot String Quartet No. 2 (2002)

“I first heard this piece when watching a youth ballet dance production. The music’s dark, reflective ambience was a thrilling background to the visually striking choreography. The music was a perfect fit to the mesmerising dancing, and its fluidity and intensity affected me in a powerful way.”



Nick Mooney (French horn) – John Adams Harmonielehre (1985)

Harmonielehre was the first contemporary piece of music I played in a big orchestra. The huge symphonic sound mixed with the modern compositional style was a big breath of fresh air. It was a very exciting and challenging experience and the piece remains one of my favourites.”


If you liked the music we’ve featured so far, take a look at what more of our players chose for our ‘Southbank Sinfonia 2016 New Music Playlist’ on Spotify below. From carnival percussion to cosmic orchestral colours, our players have embraced contemporary music from every angle.

  1. Steve Reich – Violin Phase (Caleb)
  2. Luciano Berio – Sinfonia (Section III) (Kalliopi)
  3. Isang Yun – Piri (Tinny)
  4. Joby Talbot – String Quartet No. 2 (Sarah)
  5. Oliver Knussen – Masks (Alice)
  6. Steve Reich – Triple Quartet (First Movement) (Mathieu)
  7. Michael Torke – Rapture (Drums and Woods) (Jack)
  8. Krzysztof Penderecki – Per Slava (Florence)
  9. Thomas Adès – …but all shall be well (Imogen)
  10. Luciano Berio – Sequenza VIII (Tania)
  11. Esa-Pekka Salonen – Helix (Eve)
  12. Ton de Leeuw – Sonatina (Essi)
  13. Pierre Henry – Psyche Rock (Zoé)
  14. John Adams – Harmonielehre (First Movement) (Nick)


One thing that’s for sure is that classical music today is bursting with colour and brimming with energy that keeps the classical spark alight. If you enjoyed some of the music featured in our playlist, then our next Free Rush Hour Concert is not to be missed, as we tackle John Adams’ caffeine-infused Chamber Symphony, motor away in Bryce Dessner’s fierce Aheym and pit two string armies in Osvaldo Golijov’s wild Last Round, conducted by Holly Mathieson. 

Find out more about our Free Rush Hour Concerts at St John’s Waterloo here.

Find out more about the musicians of Southbank Sinfonia here.


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.