Nigel Kennedy Plays Vivaldi

For those who don't know, Nigel Kennedy is commonly recognized as one of the world's best violin virtuosos. As a child, he studied at the Yehudi Menuhin School, then later moved on to the Juilliard School of Music in New York. His recordings of the Brahms and Beethoven violin concertos have each sold over 100,000 copies, but he is best known for his recording of Vivaldi's Four Seasons. Over 2 million copies of the album have been sold; a Guinness Record as the best-selling classical work of all time.

The last time Nigel Kennedy was in Sydney was in December 2003. I missed him then, but I'm not about to miss him now. By the time I called the Opera House box office, all the good seats are gone. That's in spite of the two extra playdates they opened due to popular demand. I managed to get a seat called A35. Must be the worst seat in the house because it's the first row right in front (actually below) the stage, and to the extreme left.

On top of being my first expensive classical concert, this is also the first time I entered the Opera House's Concert Hall. The place was huge, and the ceilings way up high. I promptly started taking pictures, only to stop when one of the ushers told me that picture-taking is not allowed. Meanwhile, camera flashes are still popping all around me. When Kennedy walked onto the stage, he was greeted with thunderous applause - even before playing a single note. As the bad boy of classical music, he certainly looked the part. No suit, no tux - just a white shirt and a very worn black silk jacket. His hair was closely cropped at the sides, with spiky hair on top, and a stubble on his chin. Yesterday being Australia Day, he played the national anthem with the orchestra. Everybody loved it. Kennedy, who has an Australian father, thought of getting an Australian passport, but later decided against it because he disapproves of Australia sending troops to Iraq. He remains a Brit living in Poland.

I had no idea what's the programme for tonight. I sort of assumed it's going to be Four Seasons. Apparently not. Kennedy and the Sydney Symphony will be playing six of Vivaldi's concertos:

• Concerto in A minor for violin, strings and harpsichord RV356
• Concerto in D major for violin, strings and harpsichord RV230
• Concerto in B flat major for violin, oboe, strings and harpsichord RV548
• Interval
• Concerto in D major for 2 violins, strings and harpsichord RV507
• Concerto in C major for 2 violins, strings and harpsichord RV511
• Concerto in G minor (Summer from The Four Seasons) for violin, strings and harpsichord RV315

Kennedy's playing is just superb. Every note is clear and precise. While everyone else is seated and staring intently at the music sheets, he would be cavorting about the place, stomping his feet to accentuate some passages, winking at some of the lady violinists, and making them lose concentration. He has great rapport with the orchestra members, and it shows when they play. He calls most of the members by their names. He knows who just had her birthday, who is marrying whom soon, who has a winery, etc. Before he starts with a piece, he would explain a little bit about it to the audience, making jokes now and then. And he is very generous with his music. The first set is supposed to be around 35 minutes, but it extended to an hour. The second half is supposed to be 45 minutes, which was stretched to twice that. Aside from the Vivaldi concertos, we were also treated to a couple of Bach's Two-Part Inventions (originally for piano), which he played with Catherine Hewgill on the cello. In a particularly difficult piece (the 8th), he was playing so fast that Catherine cried out in surprise when it ended!

He talks in a Cockney accent, and his sense of humour is very different. This is his spiel before playing the 8th:
Kennedy: Now we have a very difficult one, where Cat normally hates me after this because like I play it too fast for particularly the purist type of Cat. (Audience laughter.) What is a purist anyway? (Turns to Cat.) What do you think?
Catherine: I don't think it's me. (Audience laughter.)
Kennedy: I also can't say it in public, particularly there's children here. (Audience laughter.) Let's try to play number eight, which is a phenomenally fast number, even by Bach's standard. Thirty children in a lifetime is fast.
In another spiel:
Ladies, this next movement is really, particularly for you because it comes from a romantic episode in Vivaldi's life, which unfortunately, is unrequited love. On one of those mornings, when he was writing one of his concertos, ... he looked out of the window onto one of the canals in Venice, and he saw this gondola going by, which was not an uncommon sight, and still isn't. (Audience laughter.) Sitting in this gondola was just the most beautiful lady that he'd ever seen, and he fell in love immediately, which can happen, even to a man. (Audience laughter.) So he thought, "Man." Well I was just gonna say something I shouldn't then; but like he said, "Man." to himself 'coz he was a man. (Audience laughter.) He said maybe I should open the window and get the number of this lady's gondola. (Audience laughter.) So he made a deft bit lunge at the windows in order to open it and say, "Hi, baby. Would to come and have a look at my manuscript or something? Would you like some fine cappucino?" And unfortunately, he then noticed that it was one of those old-fashioned lead latticework windows which don't open. (Audience laughter.) So the lady just passed on by, and he never saw here again. It's a sad, sad scenario. (Audience laughter.) So he decided to, like instead of love, he needed to fill this space, so he decided to make model gondolas... (Audience laughter.) But this song that we're going to play was actually written for this lady, who I think has been reincarnated here tonight because she looked just like you, baby, in there. (Audience laughter.) Beautiful. Yeah, you. (Points to a lady.) So this is for you, baby. (Audience laughter.)

(So how did I get all this down? Well, I still don't know shorthand, and I don't have photographic memory. What I have is an MP3 player with a voice recording feature. The only problem is that it's optimized for near-field recording, and it's so sensitive that it recorded clearly all my clothes- and paper-rustling, but Kennedy's spiels and playing came out muffled.)

Michael Dauth the Concertmaster, who plays second violin tonight, is no slouch either. Add to the fact that he can balance his violin on his nose, which I'm pretty sure Kennedy can't. When they play the part for two violins, it's like they're dueling. The playing got too intense at one point, and Kennedy broke the string on his violin. The orchestra stopped while Kennedy swapped violins with the closest one he can find. Now the true test of a master, even with an unfamiliar violin without prior tuning, he played as well as before. Also accompanying Kennedy are Monika Raczynska (harpsichord) and Taro Takeuchi (baroque guitar/lute).

For the encore, he played his version of Jimi Hendrix' Purple Haze with the orchestra. He got off the stage and walked past the first row, where I was. I took a couple of shots, in spite of what the lady said. He chatted some more, segued into "Strangers in the Night" for a pretty lady he saw. He and the orchestra left the stage, but came back for more when the audience didn't stop applauding. They played one final Scottish Highland tune, the title of which even Kennedy can't remember because he said learned it in a pub. (Hahahah.)