Last Friday, Wigmore Hall brought to life a sublime work of art. From a collection of Tchaikovsky songs sung by the mezzo-soprano, Alice Coote, to Russian poetry readings by Lermontov, Pushkin and Fet. Plus, there were juicy bits of Tchaikovsky’s personal correspondence, sensitively intoned by the actor, Ralph Fiennes. Tinkling the ivories there was someone the programme claimed was called Christian Balkshaw (sic.) – Blackshaw. It was an experience with its own identity.
There have been plenty of excellent recitals and performances in empty halls during the Covid-19 pandemic. The difference here is that Wigmore pounced on the poignantly empty auditorium, dragooning it as part of the total performance, adding rich pathos to the whole shebang.
