The London Philharmonic Orchestra gave the London première of the clarinet concerto Riffs and Refrains on 13 February 2008 with soloist Michael Collins, conducted by Marin Alsop.

Hear what some of the audience thought about the performance.

"It is a terrific showpiece for Collins, whose performance combined deft flamboyance with cool, poised lyricism. Marin Alsop and the London Philharmonic did wonders with Turnage's rich yet flashy orchestral writing." The Guardian, February 2008

"Turnage's familiarity with his soloist's skills are to the fore in this schizophrenic piece, from the aplomb with which Collins riffles through intricate passagework to his enjoyment of such lyrical lines as the opening of its second movement. The false endings to the first are an in-joke characteristic of performer and composer, as is the swivelling of clarinet around the audience at the work's abrupt close. With Collins in top form, as adept at sudden entries as wonderfully sustained passages, the different sections of this fine orchestra savoured the chance to showcase their skills, the strings as silky as the woodwind were ethereal and the brass, well, brassy." The Observer, February 2008

Mark-Anthony Turnage wrote his clarinet concerto Riffs and Refrains for the Hallé and soloist Michael Collins in 2005. Turnage has known Michael Collins for 30 years and the solo writing sets out to capture his virtuosity and versatility, from a jazzy riff-style in the fast opening movement to reflective lyricism in the second. The ability of the clarinet to rapidly jump across registers is a characteristic built into the concerto as a whole.

We asked Michael Collins to share his experiences of performing the work.

Are there any moments in the piece that you are particularly fond of?

There’s a little bit at the end of the first part, the Riffs, which Turnage has called 'false endings'. It’s a little theatrical moment where you think the movement has come to an end and I have to turn around and fiddle with my reed, and the audience think it’s the end. And then I suddenly grab my clarinet and bring in the orchestra myself, without the conductor. It’s a great moment actually, I have to say. I wouldn’t say it lightens up the whole piece, but it brings a whole new aspect to it in a way – I mean, what a way to end a movement!

And the next is at the very end of the whole piece. It’s the very last part of the whole concerto and it happens after a huge moment, the climax of the whole piece, with the orchestra playing fortissimo and me flying around at the top of the instrument cutting through it. And then it just ends with these amazing chords in the strings, quite cold and icy if you like, and I just point my clarinet in different places in the hall as if these little interjections are coming from different moments, floating above these long chords going on. It's a magical moment.

But my absolute favourite moment of the whole piece is the beginning of the slow movement, of the Refrains. It's just a beautiful, beautiful tune to play and you think, where has it come from, this beginning? After the energetic riffs of the first movement, jumping around, energetic and jagged if you like, there's suddenly this beautiful long melody…stunning.

When you first performed this work, everyone talked about how difficult the work was in an athletic sense. Is that the hardest part?

Those kind of pieces that really fly around, yes, they are difficult, but if you have a technique that can cope with that, then it’s fine. The hardest thing, really, is to spin out a long phrase and make it sound like a real piece of music. That’s more demanding than flying around although the immediate impression is that when you fly around the audience think ‘wow, that’s amazing’.

One of the hardest things to do on a wind instrument is to come in from nothing or even to play a really long melody for a long time in a pianissimo but in different ranges for the instrument. It’s much harder to do that than it is to fly around, in a sense.

This work was written for you, and you've known the composer for a long time. Do you feel that there are elements of your personality that you can point to in the work?

That’s an interesting question. I think with all commissions, concertos that I ask specifically a composer to write for me, I think absolutely that first and foremost they think of the player concerned. I’ve known Mark since I was thirteen, when we were at the Royal College Junior Department, so he’s known my playing for a long time and I’ve also played a lot of his pieces when I was in the Nash Ensemble and the London Sinfonietta. Yes, he knows me very well. And it’s interesting for me to find a piece and think, well, gosh, this is what he thinks of me, if you like, my personality, my musical personality, maybe my musical ability, technical ability…

When I played the piece I thought he’s got it absolutely summed up, two parts, Riffs – which is flying around with the clarinet which is something I like doing and he knows that – and he knows that I also like to play a nice long melody, and the Refrains has that, so in many ways it has the exact requirements… If I had asked, that’s what I would have asked for, but in many ways it just came out that way.

Michael Collins interviewed by Andrew Mellor, November 2007.

Back to top >