Edinburgh Festival / Concerto Caledonia - Queen's Hall, Edinburgh
Your support helps us to tell the story
From reproductive rights to climate change to Big Tech, The Independent is on the ground when the story is developing. Whether it's investigating the financials of Elon Musk's pro-Trump PAC or producing our latest documentary, 'The A Word', which shines a light on the American women fighting for reproductive rights, we know how important it is to parse out the facts from the messaging.
At such a critical moment in US history, we need reporters on the ground. Your donation allows us to keep sending journalists to speak to both sides of the story.
The Independent is trusted by Americans across the entire political spectrum. And unlike many other quality news outlets, we choose not to lock Americans out of our reporting and analysis with paywalls. We believe quality journalism should be available to everyone, paid for by those who can afford it.
Your support makes all the difference.The only excuse for putting on concerts of local music at the Edinburgh International Festival is that your performances are of absolutely guaranteed star quality. The second of the four Scottish programmes in this year's festival, which concentrated on music of the 17th century, threatened at first to fall foul of parochialism.
True, John Clerk of Penicuik was an original and inventive composer, but his two cantatas - the second of them heard here to better effect only a few weeks ago - sounded bumpy and uneasy, the singer Lynne Dawson and the chamber group Concerto Caledonia wobbling on the verge of calamity, despite their sweet-toned baroque instruments.
The day was saved by the male soprano Renald Laban and the lutenist Jakob Lindberg. Here was star quality: the singer's honeyed tone and easy coloratura made John Abell's short-winded cantatas sound like masterworks, and Lindberg, playing old Scottish lute solos, concealed his technical brilliance under a veil of courteous intimacy. There was one moment when these two came together in a brief French song by Abell: the composer's tiny lyric gift blossomed, and we had a glimpse of pure magic.
Join our commenting forum
Join thought-provoking conversations, follow other Independent readers and see their replies
Comments