Steven h. Spewak

Over the past decade, Steven Wilson's (Porcupine Tree) relationship with prog rock has grown increasingly intimate. He previewed a killer new band on the live album Get All You Deserve - woodwind/multi-instrumentalist Theo Travis, keyboardist Adam Holzman, session bass and stick player Nick Beggs, drummer Marco Minnemann, and guitarist Guthrie Govan - put a diverse, sophisticated face on Wilson's 21st century brand of the genre. The Raven That Refused to Sing and Other Stories is their first studio outing. Wilson was also able to coax Alan Parsons out of semi-retirement to co-produce and engineer the effort, and he fully committed: the album's crystalline, detailed sound and spacious ambience reflect some of his best work behind the boards…

At the end of March 2018, Steven Wilson played a sell-out three night residency at one of the world’s most iconic venues: London’s Royal Albert Hall. The three Albert Hall shows saw Steven and his virtuoso band present the songs from To The Bone and many more from a deep dive into his extensive back catalogue as part of visually and sonically immersive experience. There, brain-twisting visuals met expansive 4D sound, making this most traditional of English venues feel like it was hosting a very different kind of Prom – more communion than concert. It wasn’t surprising that the Sun described the gig as “one of the best shows of the year – and it’s only March”.

Steven Wilson fans have been primed for The Future Bites since he released To the Bone in 2017. That record, and the preceding 4½ EP, were deliberately "pop" responses to his three-album dalliance with prog – Raven That Refused to Sing, Hand. Cannot. Erase, and Grace for Drowning. In contrast to the above, The Future Bites is a slick exercise in Wilson's oft-articulated love of synth pop and electronic music. It's a loose concept set about the treachery that rampant consumerism foists upon the world, and the danger a technological society imposes on personal identity…

What a versatile artist Steven Isserlis is. Having made his name as a sympathetic interpreter of a wide variety of romantic and modern music, here he shows he can be just as persuasive in eighteenth-century repertoire. His stylistic awareness is evident in beautiful, elegant phrasing, selective use of vibrato and varied articulation, giving an expressive range that never conflicts with the music’s natural language. In the cello concertos he is helped by an extremely sensitive accompaniment, stressing the chamber musical aspects of Haydn’s pre-London orchestral writing. The soft, intimate sonority at 3'06'' in the first movement of the D major is a typical example. The Adagios are taken at a flowing speed, but Isserlis’s relaxed approach means they never sound hurried. The Allegro molto finale of the C major Concerto, on the other hand, sounds poised rather than the helter-skelter we often hear. In his understanding of the music, Isserlis is a long way ahead of Han-na Chang, whose version places the emphasis on fine, traditional-style cello playing. Mork’s vivacious, imaginative performances characterize the music very strongly, but my preference would be for Isserlis’s and Norrington’s lighter touch and greater refinement.

Throughout his lifetime, Gustav Mahler's musical imagination got sparked by the Wunderhorn anthology of folk poetry compiled by Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano. Whether autonomous lieder or conscripted into symphonic service, Mahler’s Wunderhorn settings represent some of his most exotic, exhilarating, but also visionary music. The Wunderhorn songs evoke and celebrate a lost era but they also prefigure its demise. Mahler captures this ambiguity in uncompromisingly melodious and idyllic, but also satiric, relentless and cruel music.