There are festivals that present themselves with much fanfare, and there are festivals that first take root in a city before filling it with music. The Orfeo Music Festival chose the latter. For its twenty-second edition, it traded its familiar location in Sterzing/Vipiteno for the historic Brixen/Bressanone, and after just the first concerts it became clear how self-evident that choice was. The baroque Kaisersaal of the Hofburg, the hushed spaces of the Priesterseminarie and the Parzivalsaal of the Vinzentinum formed not merely a backdrop, but halls in which chamber music naturally found its place. The architecture did not demand admiration; it invited listening.
Those who attended one of those concerts between 8 and 14 July encountered a festival that presented teachers, internationally renowned guest musicians and students not as separate worlds, but as partners in a single shared musical adventure. Rehearsals, lessons and concerts flowed almost imperceptibly into one another. Where a masterclass elsewhere easily remains a pedagogical exercise, here an artistic dialogue grew in which experience and youthful enthusiasm continually strengthened each other. It was not hierarchy that took centre stage, but collaboration.
This approach became perhaps clearest during the student recitals. They formed far more than a supplement to the evening programme. The concerts showed how artistic development takes shape in practice. For some, a performance during the festival meant a first stage experience; others already stepped forward with striking maturity. The audience was thus not only witness to finished performances, but also to a visible and audible growth process, in which listening, experimenting and making music together were as important as technical perfection.
The following concert reviews are written from the conviction that a review may be more than a chronological overview of performed works. They attempt not only to describe what was played, but especially how interpretations came about, how musicians communicated with each other and how ensembles developed over the course of the festival week. For this report I attended both some evening concerts with teachers and guest musicians as well as recital moments of the students. Together they sketch a representative picture of a festival where artistic quality, education and encounter strengthen each other in a self-evident way.
Those who followed all concerts from beginning to end also saw how gradually a clear connecting thread became visible. Technique rarely proved to be an end in itself, but a means to say something. Listening proved at least as important as speaking, both during lessons and on stage. Precisely in this lay the greatest strength of this first festival edition in Brixen: not only in the high level of performance, but especially in the way young musicians and experienced artists together created an environment in which artistic growth, collegiality and musical pleasure continually strengthened each other.
8 July – An evening of growth, surprise and musical collaboration
The opening evening of the official concert series immediately confirmed the impression the festival had made from day one. The teachers brought, in varying ensembles, a varied programme in which not only the music, but also the pleasure of making music together was central. The concept of the evening concerts offers the teachers the opportunity to bring a broad and surprising repertoire, with different styles and ensembles alternating. The result is a programme that is not only musically interesting, but also perfectly suited to the warm, relaxed atmosphere of a summer music festival.
The opening evening brought baroque, romanticism and late-romantic lyricism together in a programme in which listening and collaboration were especially central. Perhaps some combinations of musicians still needed to grow closer to each other, but it was precisely this process that made the evening engaging: during the various works you felt the music grow and increasing naturalness emerged between the players. This gradual development also gave the evening a very human and pleasant dimension.
Alvaro Gomez, especially known as a viola player, opened with the Chaconne by Tomaso Vitali (1663–1745). His interpretation had a natural breathing and warm musicality. Dena Kay Jones proved to be an attentive and refined partner at the piano, constantly supporting and thinking along. In the Sonate BWV 1037 by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750), a beautiful musical conversation then emerged between Routa Kroumovitch and Gomez, with Jones's piano part providing a natural third perspective that gave colour to the whole.
Trio Jeng with works by Richard Strauss (1864–1949) and Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846–1916) was a pleasant surprise. Especially Tosti's A vucchella moved with its simplicity, charm and warm directness. Where Strauss' Morgen demanded greater vocal command, refined diction and more bravura, Tosti received a spontaneous and natural interpretation in which the intimacy of the song was beautifully preserved. The soprano, together with Haroutune Bedelian and Lorna Griffitt, showed how powerful a simple musical line can be when it is performed with feeling and conviction.
The great artistic moment of the evening came with Christian Bertoncello. For this South Tyrolean cellist, the performance had something of a homecoming, but at the same time also a strong artistic affirmation. In the Sonata for cello and piano, op. 19 by Sergei Rachmaninov (1873–1943) he held the audience in his grip from start to finish. His cello sounded with a particularly beautiful, ideal tone: warm, deep and rich in colour. The melancholy of the work was never exaggerated, but grew quietly into an impressive expressive power. Lorna Griffitt followed him with great sensitivity at the piano and knew how to convey both the transparency of chamber music and the full sound world of Rachmaninov.
The conclusion with Tritsch-Tratsch-Polka by Johann Strauss II (1825–1899) and Tico-Tico no fubá by Zequinha de Abreu (1880–1935), performed by Anna Gliadkovskaya and Kirill Gliadkovsky at the piano, provided a delightful change of mood. The joy of playing radiated from it, although the touch could have been slightly softer and more refined in places. The liveliness and spontaneity made these works more than an encore; they formed a cheerful conclusion to an evening in which musical seriousness and relaxation went hand in hand. The unexpected seat change during Tico-Tico added one more playful moment to it.
Overall, this first evening offered a highly varied programme in which there was something to discover for everyone. Precisely that makes this concert series so suitable for a summer vacation period: surprising encounters, beautiful music and above all an atmosphere in which musicians and audience can enjoy making and experiencing music together. Here and there finesse could have developed a bit further, but that very prospect makes the upcoming concerts extra compelling. The warm, informal atmosphere and the visible pleasure in making music already formed a particularly strong start to the festival.
July 10 – First steps on stage
This afternoon I started my festival day by attending the student recital, for me always one of the most beautiful parts of a music festival. As a teacher I know how much preparation, tension and perseverance lie behind the first steps on a stage. For some, this even meant their very first public performance, as the festival management told me, which gave the afternoon an extra dimension. Beyond technical preparation, these performances also required the courage to make themselves vulnerable and share their music with an audience.
This gave each student the opportunity to tell their own musical story and explore different styles and characters.
Anastasia Powell opened energetically with the sparkling Sonatina by Aram Khachaturian (1903–1978), after which Amy Graham evoked a completely different sound world in Claude Debussy's (1862–1918) Reflets dans l'eau. Henry Canning demonstrated in Frédéric Chopin's (1810–1849) Mazurka in F minor, op. 63 no. 2 and Debussy's Rêverie how lyricism and refinement can complement each other. His Debussy in particular made a strong impression on me and was convincing from the very first note. Then Daniil Safin and Daria Powell provided an airy and youthful touch with the playful piano pieces by Catherine Rollin (°1952), with rhythmic clapping during the performance adding an extra playful effect. Their enthusiasm was contagious and underscored that making music should also radiate pleasure.
A particularly atmospheric moment followed with Isabella Calhoun, who together with pianist Howard Chen performed Porgi amor from Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's (1756–1791) Le Nozze di Figaro. Her warm voice came across beautifully and was carefully supported by her pianist. A particularly charming detail was that Trio Jeng together with Samuel Aldana had created a small staging of this aria. This made the scene come alive not only musically but also visually.
The recital was further enriched by that same Samuel Aldana, who performed the first movement from the Violin Concerto by Felix Mendelssohn (1809–1847). Perhaps the intonation was not always completely secure, but he clearly demonstrated his own vision of the work. Claire Tu proved to be a very reliable and responsive piano partner. The afternoon was concluded by Daria Powell with three movements from Robert Schumann's (1810–1856) Papillons, which rounded off the programme in an elegant and characterful manner.
As is to be expected at a student recital, not every performance was at the same artistic level yet. That doesn't need to be. Precisely the combination of first stage experiences, visibly growing confidence and the willingness to make themselves musically vulnerable made this afternoon particularly valuable. As a teacher, during such a recital I look not only at the end result but especially at the growth process unfolding before your eyes. The attentive and warm audience gave the students all the space they needed for this. Precisely that makes these recital moments an indispensable part of the festival.
July 10 – Virtuosity in the service of music
After a first festival evening in which dialogue between musicians was particularly central, the master class concert titled Romantic Fire and Virtuosity emphasized individual expressiveness. Yet here again it became clear that virtuosity was never an end in itself. In the beautiful setting of the Kaisersaal – a historic hall where Mozart himself once performed music, during a stay in Brixen in 1769 – Romanticism had all the space it needed. Not as a demonstration of technical superiority, but as a search for colour, character, imagination and dramatic tension.
Moreover, it was a particularly challenging evening: the exceptionally high temperatures posed an additional ordeal, but seemed to barely affect the musicians. From the first notes, an alternating and multifaceted programme unfolded that remained engaging until the very last note. Each work received its own character, and again and again it became clear how many musical personalities came together here.
Anna Gliadkovskaya opened with Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy's (1809–1847) Rondo capriccioso, a work that can easily succumb to its own brilliance. She avoided, however, any form of superficial virtuosity. The lightness and elegance of the opening section remained completely intact, while the virtuosic passages were built up naturally and controlled. Her playing possessed clarity, refinement and a great sense of style, which kept Mendelssohn's refined writing continuously audible.
Routa Kroumovitch then chose Pablo de Sarasate's (1844–1908) Zapateado for a completely different idiom. The Spanish dance rhythms received precisely the sharpness, energy and fire that the work requires, but her impressive left-hand technique and sure bowing were never presented as a technical feat. On the contrary: the difficulties seemed to disappear completely in the musical pleasure and natural movement of the music. Dena Kay Jones supported her with a piano part in which rhythmic precision and a remarkable sense of balance came together.
Scott Allan Cohen subsequently performed Réminiscences de Norma by Franz Liszt (1811–1886), a monumental piano work in which the world of opera and the concert hall meet. He did not opt for mere external grandeur, but allowed the melodies from Vincenzo Bellini's (1801–1835) opera Norma to breathe beneath Liszt's rich, sometimes overwhelming pianistic textures. This gave the performance a strong dramatic coherence and made the work more than a virtuosic tour de force. It was one of those moments in which technical mastery completely coincided with musical imagination – a memorable experience that left many in the audience with a genuine "wow" impression.
Kirill Gliadkovsky closed the first part with two Études-tableaux from opus 39 by Sergej Rachmaninov (1873–1943): no. 2, often associated with the unofficial nickname The Sea and the Seagulls, and no. 6, which is regularly associated with Little Red Riding Hood because of its narrative character. These names do not originate from Rachmaninov himself, but they do help to understand the strongly evocative atmosphere of these works. Gliadkovsky did not seek external effect or mere pianistic power, but rather the dark, almost orchestral sound world behind this music. The massive chords, complex figures and dramatic arcs of tension remained continually connected to a larger musical narrative.
After this series of solo highlights, another strength of the festival became visible again: ensemble playing. The String Trio in C minor, opus 9 no. 3, by Ludwig van Beethoven (1770–1827) brought Routa Kroumovitch, Alvaro Gomez and Christian Bertoncello together in a performance that excelled through homogeneity, refined communication and mutual willingness to listen. None of the three musicians tried to dominate the others; each phrase seemed to follow logically from what the other voices had introduced before.
Already in the opening movement, the Allegro con brio, the natural balance between energy and transparency was striking. Beethoven's dramatic power was convincingly conveyed without the performance becoming heavy or massive. The three voices retained their own character while simultaneously forming a tight musical whole in which tension and dialogue were continually present. The lively exchange of motifs took on an almost conversational character: sometimes one voice took the initiative, then a subtle response would emerge from the ensemble.
The friendly, sometimes even playful glances between the musicians showed a relaxed collaboration, but always with deep respect for the individual character and role of each voice. The Adagio con espressione subsequently received a natural breathing and warm expressivity, while the Scherzo retained its playful edge without becoming sharp or overly accentuated. In the fast Finale, the transparency of Beethoven's writing remained remarkably intact: complexity never became heaviness, but remained lively music.
The conclusion with selections from the Sérénade for Strings by Pjotr Iljitsj Tsjaikovski (1840–1893) provided an appropriate and elegant ending. With Haroutune Bedelian as second violinist, the ensemble acquired a warm, homogeneous strings sound that showed its most beautiful colors especially in the Élégie. The Waltz brought the evening to a refined close, in which melancholy and lightness remained continually in dialogue with each other.
After this second evening, all expectations on a musical level were completely fulfilled. Where after the previous concert a small degree of reserve or doubt was still possible, that disappeared here entirely. The technical situation of the earlier performance in the seminary – with a less convincing piano – may have played a role, but in the Kaisersaal the full quality of these musicians came convincingly to the fore.
What ultimately made this evening so special was the combination of individual class and collective musicality. A warm applause was therefore not only for the individual performances, but especially for the musical connection that ran as a red thread through the entire concert: substantive virtuosity, personality without ego, and ensemble playing in which listening was as important as speaking.
14 July – Making music together as the final destination
The last day of a festival is always a special moment. Not only because a week of intense music-making comes to an end, but also because it is only then that one truly sees what such a week has produced. During the student recital in the Priests' Seminary, the emphasis was no longer on individual performances, but on making music together in changing line-ups. Where at the beginning of the week the first introductions were still audible, now ensembles took the stage that had built a remarkable musical unity in just a few days.
The programme was as varied as the composition of the ensembles. From Russian miniatures via baroque and classical chamber music to folk music, choral works and romantic string literature: each performance formed a new combination of styles and musicians. It was precisely that variety that made the recital engaging. No single work lasted long, but each offered an insight into a different facet of the festival.
Andrew Dixon and Henry Canning opened with the Hélène Polka by Aleksandr Borodin (1833–1887) and the Italian Polka by Sergej Rachmaninov (1873–1943), two works in which playfulness, rhythmic sharpness and mutual precision are central. Both pianists quickly found a natural balance. The humour remained light, while the more virtuosic passages never degenerated into a competition for volume or speed. Notably striking was the self-evident collegiality between the two musicians. In small gestures before and after the performance, it became visible how a more experienced participant supported a younger colleague – a simple, but telling image of the atmosphere that characterizes the festival.
Peter Jackson subsequently performed the Invention in A minor by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750). After the exuberance of the opening works, this was a moment of quietness, in which clear articulation and careful voice leading gave the music full space. Then followed a surprising change of style. Kaytie Kear presented her own composition Reversing Reflections, which she sang herself and accompanied at the piano. The personal, contemporary tone of the work contrasted nicely with Die Lotusblume by Clara Schumann (1819–1896), in which Isabella Calhoun delivered a sensitive and restrained interpretation.
With Tchaikovsky and the Other Russians by Kurt Weill (1900–1950), the atmosphere changed completely once again. Kaytie Kear and Isabella Calhoun gave the ironic text precisely the right dose of theatrical flair, without burdening the music with caricature. The Orfeo Festival Choristers supported them with enthusiasm and visible pleasure, while Vera Watson shaped the piano accompaniment smoothly and stylishly. Under the inspiring leadership of Trio Jeng, a light intermezzo emerged that was visibly enjoyed by the audience.
Kevin Watson selected from The Four Seasons by Antonio Vivaldi (1678–1741) the middle section of Summer, in which the hushed tension of the Adagio is abruptly broken by the turbulence of the storm. After a somewhat cautious start, he gradually found more and more ease and was able to convincingly play out that contrast. Vera Watson proved to be an alert and sensitive partner here as well.
The recital then built organically on that alternation of instrumentation and styles. With the Andante from the Piano Trio in G, KV 564, by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791), Samuel Aldana, Kristina Tu and Tana Smith brought one of the most refined moments of the afternoon. The three musicians constantly listened to each other and created a naturally breathing performance in which no single voice attempted to dominate. It is precisely in this apparent simplicity that Mozart demonstrates how difficult true balance can be.
Howard Chen then accompanied Isabella Calhoun in Liebeszauber by Clara Schumann (1819–1896) and Widmung by Robert Schumann (1810–1856). His qualities as a pianist were immediately evident here. He breathed with the singer, supported her with great sensitivity and always remained in service of the musical whole. In retrospect, this recital already foreshadowed the distinction he would receive later that evening.
Then followed a special triptych for the Orfeo Festival Choir. Noteworthy was that instrumentalists also actively participated in the choral work, a fine illustration of the broad musical training that the festival pursues. Red Rose and Dead Rose by Louis Lavater (°1948), the Austrian national anthem Auf der Alma and the opening chorus from the Stabat Mater by Giovanni Battista Pergolesi (1710–1736) presented three entirely different sound worlds. Under the direction of Trio Jeng in the first two works and accompanied by an instrumental ensemble, composed of students and teachers under the direction of Alvaro Gomez, the Orfeo Festival Choir switched effortlessly between folk music simplicity, contemporary choral sound and religious restraint. Daniil Safin supported the whole with a sober yet always sustaining piano accompaniment.
The concluding orchestral works once again made clear how much progress the participants had made during the week. The Élégie from the Sérénade for Strings by Pjotr Iljitsj Tsjaikovski (1840–1893) sounded warm and homogeneous, with fine dynamic shifts and a broadly sustained melodic line. The subsequent switch to Prelude and Gavotte from Five Pieces by Dmitri Sjostakovitsj (1906–1975) once again underscored the stylistic diversity of the festival. Under the direction of Alvaro Gomez, the Orfeo Festival Ensemble maintained remarkable coherence. Once again it became clear how naturally teachers and students make music together, while Vera Watson filled the piano part with discretion and a fine sense of ensemble.
What stood out most during this recital was not so much the individual level – that had been high all week – but the speed with which unfamiliar musicians had grown toward each other. In barely a week's time, a natural interplay developed in which listening became more important than impressing. It was not only audible in the musical finish, but also visible on stage: brief glances, a smile, a subtle breath or a small gesture were enough to find each other. That trust gave the performances a natural liveliness that cannot be rehearsed.
Herein perhaps lies the greatest merit of the Orfeo Music Festival. Technique and talent form the starting point, but the ultimate destination is making music together. This student recital was perhaps the finest proof of that. It formed a worthy conclusion to a festival week in which young musicians not only grew artistically, but also discovered how much music can gain when individual qualities merge into one shared musical voice.
July 14 – A natural culmination
A closing concert often carries the risk of wanting to be primarily a farewell: many performers, much applause and a program that adds up rather than provides direction. The Orfeo Music Festival chose a different approach.
Following the presentation of the Cohen Family First Prize 2026 – the first awarding of what will undoubtedly become a new festival tradition – to pianist Howard Chen came a musical thank you. With Étude opus 10 no. 2 by Frédéric Chopin (1810–1849), he demonstrated not only impressive technical mastery, but above all a remarkable musical intelligence. As during the student recital earlier, his instinctive sense of phrasing and collaboration stood out. The distinction thus seemed more than deserved. The Orfeo Music Festival wants to be a springboard for young talent. Howard Chen certainly gave the impression of a musician we will undoubtedly hear from again.
As a brief overture to the actual program – Orfeo Grand Finale – Routa Kroumovitch and Alvaro Gomez brought the Sonate opus 3 no. 5 by Jean-Marie Leclair (1697–1764). Their interplay immediately stood out for its stylistic refinement and elegant articulation. The Baroque dialogue between both violins was clearly worked out and formed an elegant opening of a carefully constructed program.
Then Routa Kroumovitch and Dena Kay Jones brought Introduction et Rondo capriccioso, opus 28, by Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921), a work in which elegance and bravura continually vie for precedence. Kroumovitch let the restrained melancholy of the introduction organically transition into the irresistible pace of the rondo. Her playing remained remarkably transparent throughout; the virtuosity never seemed more important than the melodic line. Jones proved once again how naturally she adapts to her soloist. Her piano playing supported, colored and responded without ever claiming attention.
The vocal section of the evening was carried by Russian baritone Yury Kopyrin, who together with Dena Kay Jones presented a recital that moved between Italian belcanto and Russian Romanticism. His warm, robust baritone proved capable of effortlessly carrying different styles. That Kopyrin was only nineteen years old made his performance all the more remarkable. He possesses not only a strikingly mature voice, but also a stage presence and text delivery that suggest a much more experienced singer.
He opened with Vergin, tutto amor by Francesco Durante (1684–1755), in which he chose a restrained, almost meditative approach. Subsequently, he performed Durante's well-known Danza, danza, fanciulla gentile with a light elegance that allowed the character of the song to fully come into its own.
Then the atmosphere shifted to Russian Romanticism with None but the Lonely Heart and I'd Like to Merge into a Single Word by Pjotr Iljitsj Tsjaikovski (1840–1893). In particular None but the Lonely Heart, subtly supported by the cello sound of Kristina Tu, formed an emotional highlight of the evening. The addition of the cello gave the song an extra melancholic depth, which further emphasized the intimacy of the singing. Also I am in Love with You by Aleksandr Dargomyzjski (1813–1869) fitted seamlessly into that line of refined expression.
As an instrumental intermezzo, Kirill Gliadkovsky gave a striking performance of Prelude in cis minor, opus 3 no. 2 by Sergej Rachmaninov (1873–1943). The work belongs to the best-known piano pieces in the repertoire and is performed so often that it easily loses its surprising effect. However, Gliadkovsky chose a measured build-up of tension, in which the monumental chords gradually grew without losing sight of the lyrical undercurrent. Thus the prelude was not an isolated virtuoso moment, but a natural pivotal point within the recital.
In the final section of the song programme, different European song traditions were given a place again. Widmung by Robert Schumann (1810–1856) sounded warm and lyrical, while La serenata and Malia by Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846–1916) retained an elegant, almost salon-like charm without becoming superficial. With Musica proibita by Stanislao Gastaldon (1861–1939), Kopyrin concluded his recital convincingly. Here too, he convinced less through vocal display than through his natural eloquence, a quality that the audience clearly appreciated. With La donna russa from Fedora by Umberto Giordano (1867–1948), Kopyrin finally had the opportunity to show his opera qualities. Without abandoning the intimacy of the preceding song repertoire, he gave the aria the dramatic tension and vocal allure it demands. Thus it formed a convincing conclusion to a recital in which musical eloquence remained consistently more important than vocal showiness.
What ultimately made this closing evening so convincing was not the scope of the programme, but the concentration with which every performance was delivered. The different styles – from Baroque through Romanticism to late-Romantic song – formed not a loose sequence, but an organic whole. This final concert thus seamlessly aligned with the spirit of the festival: technical mastery was always in service of musical expression, and experienced teachers naturally found dialogue with young musicians.
The prolonged applause with which the evening concluded was not only for the performers of this closing concert, but for the entire festival week. Those who had followed the concerts from beginning to end had seen young musicians develop into convincing ensemble partners, guided by teachers who generously shared their experience while also allowing room for the individual musical personality of their students. Thus this Grand Finale was not a spectacular endpoint, but the natural culmination of a week in which listening, collaboration, and musical curiosity had always been central.
Final Reflections
During the five concerts I attended, the Orfeo Music Festival gradually revealed itself as much more than a series of individual concerts. From the first notes in the Priesterseminarie to the Grand Finale in the Kaisersaal, a festival unfolded that did not excel through spectacle, but through the care with which programmes, musicians, and locations were attuned to each other. The historic spaces of Brixen thereby formed not a decorative background, but an essential part of the listening experience. Each venue gave the music its own character, without ever diverting attention from it.
What perhaps stood out most throughout the week was the natural way in which experienced musicians and young participants made music together. Teachers did not remain at a distance as unreachable examples, but actively participated in the musical process, both on stage and off. Students, at the same time, were given space to take responsibility, take risks, and develop artistically. Thus the distinction between lesson and concert, between education and performance, became blurred. Listening proved to be at least as important as speaking.
This attitude formed the true thread running through the festival. Ability rarely remained an end in itself, but consistently served the music. Whether it was a solo recital, a song programme, a chamber music ensemble, or a student ensemble: dialogue was always central. Precisely because of this, not only some exceptional performances remained memorable, but especially the image of a musical community in which experience, curiosity, and mutual trust continuously reinforced one another.
The Alpine landscape around Brixen provided the setting; the musicians gave the festival its meaning. If this first edition in Brixen is indicative of the future, then the Orfeo Music Festival has found not only a new location, but also a new home. More than a series of successful concerts, this festival week showed how music can bring together people with diverse backgrounds, ages, and experiences. Perhaps that is ultimately the greatest achievement of the Orfeo Music Festival.