Lord Byron Bicentenary Concert
National Portrait Gallery - 28/02/24
Brian Bannatyne-Scott, bass | Beth Taylor, mezzo-soprano | Jonathan Forbes Kennedy, baritone | John Kitchen, piano
Byron seems to be more famous for his personality than his poetry. We know of his heady lifestyle, his wealth, his success as swimmer and seducer despite a gammy leg, his bankrolling the Greek War of Independence and fashionably early death. Rather than quotes from his poems what come to mind are one-liners, by him or about him: “I awoke, and found myself famous”, “Mad, bad and dangerous to know”. So I came to this concert intrigued to find which poems had been chosen and how they might come across in song form.
The performance is scheduled for 6pm, which seems rather early, but I turn up at the door to find a dozen or so people feeling puzzled that the Portrait Gallery door is closed. It’s a friendly bunch and we chat about other performances including Brian’s ‘Winterreise’. “Should be given a repeat” says one, to many nods from others. Eventually we are allowed in out of the wind and rain. I present my EMR credentials and am directed upstairs. The area is dark, with programmes laid out on a few stools. The performance space 20 or 30 feet below is brightly lit. There’s a chance to examine the neogothic style frieze of several hundred Scottish worthies ranging from Adam the architect to Watt the engineer. All seems rather odd but, always open to new experiences, I opt to stay up top.
The event begins with three lectures by experts on Byron. The cavernous acoustics and the vertical angle on their faces mean few words can be understood, but I do catch the audience completing “Mad bad and…” with “…dangerous to know”, like a church congregation or pantomime audience. I gather up my bits and bobs and go downstairs to get something of the third speaker. The one seat I can find is behind a column, but never mind. The speaker is an artist who has produced a painting to salute the 200th anniversary of Byron’s death. The picture is beside him, too far for me to examine. What I can discern looks as if it might have seemed avant-garde a few decades ago. As you may have gathered, by this stage your reviewer is not a happy reviewer.
Then comes the music, as if from a different world. All four musicians express the drama, the delicacy, the humour within the songs. Brian has been unwell, so Jonathan has stepped in for the bulk of the male numbers. Jonathan radiates warmth and confidence; later I learn he only had a few days to master the task. Beth, the mezzo, has an exotic presence, dark hair and huge eyes promise a generous and expressive voice which duly pours forth. It’s a big sound, but even with the echoing acoustics there is clarity. Brian sings only a few items, his precision and intimacy to the fore, until the closing number by Mussorgsky where his forceful bass carries all in triumph. John Kitchen’s piano skilfully supports and echoes the diverse moods of the singing.
Two items gave me special delight: ‘Du bist wie eine Blume’ (You are like a flower), a Schumann song which I discovered for myself only recently; ‘So we’ll go no more a roving’, one of Byron’s best-known poems. It’s been sung to other tunes by Joan Baez, Leonard Cohen, Marianne Faithfull and many more. This version by Nigel Don kept in touch with the rollicking folk feel while the interplay between Brian and Beth brought out the melancholy lurking within.
One question worried me throughout, “Why is most of the performance in German?” The bulk of the song list is by Schumann. Did he have a special admiration for Byron? Nothing I could find in the programme notes to enlighten me. Only later, when I get a chance to search the internet, do I come immediately to an explanation, by Brian himself in the EMR no less: all the lyrics were by Byron, or his friends or associates. Byron was something of a “prophet without honour in his own land”, the cult of Byron being largely a Continental thing. And he can be regarded as a Scot, his ancestry and early childhood being here.
I came away elated, by the performers’ energy, the friendly atmosphere, even the building.
Cover photo: Survey of British Literature
