Concerts

Midge Ure is primarily known as a new wave and synth-pop artist, formerly of the bands Ultravox and Visage. As well as being a successful singer-songwriter and record and video producer, he is also an accomplished guitarist, temporarily joining hard-rock band Thin Lizzy in the late 1970s. This concert had been delayed a year due to Ure’s health issues, and the full-house audience were certainly more than ready to party!

Support act Cole Stacey, whose strong vocals and energetic mandolin-playing folk songs were the perfect warmup, is also a member of Ure’s touring band. His version of Mary Hopkin’s Those Were The Days from 1968 was a highlight, with many of the audience in full voice showing their generation.

30 minutes later, Ure together with Stacey (keyboards, bass, backing vocals), Russell Field (Ure’s long-time drummer) and Joseph O’Keefe (keyboards, violin) arrived on stage to rapturous applause.

The first song Dear God set the tone for the night. Again We Love blended into Call of the Wild, after which Ure said, “I have to apologise, we’re a wee bit late – about a year!” On Passing Strangers, the audience were encouraged to clap along. The huge solo hit If I Was followed and had the crowd singing the choruses. Ure commented on the venue’s unique design: “We’ve never played in half a yacht before!”

After the gorgeous Tom Rush ballad No Regrets, Ure said (with a hint of sarcasm), “Isn’t it classic that something I didn’t write gets the best applause!” The heavy guitar-laden Led Zeppelin-esque Monster segued effortlessly into crowd-favourite Vienna, featuring a stunning violin solo by O’Keefe.

Reap the Wild Wind again had the crowd in full voice as did Fade To Grey, with Ure switching from guitar to keyboard. For Dancing with Tears in My Eyes, the band quietened down for the crowd to sing the choruses on our own! This was a band clearly enjoying themselves, and Ure happily engaged with the adoring audience.

The first encore, the instrumental Yellow Pearl, led beautifully into the final song Hymn. Then it was over, the crowd leaving tired but sated.

It’s hard to choose a favourite from three courses of sublime music. Often, it’s the entrée for me but the second course was my pick from this feast.

The entrée, Elfrida Andrée’s Andante Recitative for strings, was wonderful. A romantic violin solo, hesitant and broken over sustained lower strings, melody passing between cello and violins, a thick almost chewy sound, rising from the deep to finish on sustained violin. Delicious.

The second course was Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 27. Pianist Isata Kanneh-Mason played with the perfect level of dominance in her right hand, her left almost unnoticeable at times but always guiding our ears towards the melody. She played with astonishing fluidity and an admirable confidence in the face of the complexity and challenge of a well-known Mozart concerto.

The last movement, Allegro, perfectly combined Mozart’s originality with Kanneh-Mason’s incredible talent. In lesser hands, Mozart’s harmonic variations might sound repetitive, but multiplied many times over by the factor of Kanneh-Mason’s talent, this was infinite variety and inventiveness condensed into a few too-short minutes. Kanneh-Mason made Mozart her own creation, surely one of the hardest things in the world. A divinely played version of I Say a Little Prayer was her equally impressive, wow-factor encore.

As far as the NZSO’s institutional memory and archives can tell, the orchestra has never performed Serenade No. 1 in D Major by Brahms. Six movements show off his versatility and creativity in what is considered his first published orchestral work. Conductor Tianyi Lu’s interpretation, coupled with the orchestra enjoying the challenge of something less familiar, established a lovely light-heartedness throughout this piece. From the opening few bars, it was clear something joyful was coming, followed by something martial, romantic, playful, and confident. The finishing Rondo felt like a cantering horse was slowing to a fast trot, skittering slightly and coming to a happy standstill.

Sir Donald Runnicles described the first piece in the programme, Der Rosenkavalier Suite by Richard Strauss, as “the Reader’s Digest version” of this four-hour opera. It certainly is a condensed narrative, capturing the core of the opera in five sections. Runnicles brought out the best in the orchestra, producing a beautiful big tone from the horns, wonderfully melded woodwind, and superbly expressive strings. Light and texture seemed to come through sparkling clashes of sound and delicately smooth, shining passages of melody, but then speed and energy brought us all racing downhill, breathless, at the end of the final waltz.

By contrast, Four Last Songs, also by Strauss, is an ode to mortality, acceptance of death after a long life well lived alongside one’s companion. Soprano Madeleine Pierard is so well suited to these songs. Her voice ebbed and flowed with power, intensity, sadness, and control. From poise and elegance in the first song Frühling (Spring), she perfectly conveyed the contemplation of death in September, and the slow sense of time and life passing in Beim Schlafengehen (When Going to Sleep) and Im Abendrot (At Dusk).

Runnicles mused on what would accompany Four Last Songs on the programme and told us Symphony No. 3 by Brahms was chosen because of their shared power and beauty; quiet and peaceful endings over a bittersweet shadow.

The second and third movements, Andante and Poco allegretto, captured this clearly. The relaxed and assured sound of woodwind in the Andante was a gentle folk dance hiding a sense of disquiet, carefully nurtured by Runnicles and excellently resolved by the musicians and the music at the end. The third movement, opened by a wonderful melody in the cellos, moved through tonal and major-minor shifts to lead into the fourth movement which delivered a sparkling peak, with suitably crisp sound from violins and cellos, before settling and reaching its tranquil end.

The NZSO’s Emerging Artists programme gives school-age musicians from across Aotearoa the opportunity to perform with the national orchestra. 13 student orchestral instrumentalists are dotted amongst the professional players. Their young faces glow with anticipation and little interactions with the adult players around them suggest that warm, supportive relationships have already formed.

Hosting the evening is Chris Lam Sam, the NZSO’s marvellous music education animateur. His introductions offer musical details to listen for, alongside amusing snippets from interviews with each soloist. Conductor Hamish McKeich draws the musicians together in the opening of Nicholas Brownlie’s Blind is the Gardener and my expectations for the evening are immediately surpassed by this short but cinematic opening.

Our first soloist is violinist Catherine Harrison playing the final movement of Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto. Her formidable technical precision carries her through its playful virtuosity before melting into Tchaikovsky’s characteristic bittersweet lyricism. Harrison is simply lovely as she moves through the variations.

Elise Tian follows with my favourite cello concerto, Shostakovich’s first, and astonishes. This ferociously demanding movement requires extraordinary physical and emotional stamina; Tian meets this with assurance, capturing its anguish and emotional complexity while navigating its relentless technical demands.

Next, Alex Wu brings another character entirely to Vaughan Williams’ Oboe Concerto, with a beautifully rounded, reedy tone and an engaging playfulness.

The atmosphere tonight is special. Students and young families fill the Michael Fowler Centre, while a gregarious group of retired music teachers behind us marvel at the soloists’ technique between pieces, swapping memories and war stories of teaching those same skills. During interval, most people remain in their seats or form excited conversation circles in the aisles.

After interval, pianists Jerry Wang, Steven Song, and William Ding tackle Grieg, Prokofiev, and Brahms respectively, maintaining the astonishing standard. I have rarely seen an audience leave a classical concert so happy. If this joyous, generous evening offers a taste of classical music’s future in Aotearoa, we have much to look forward to.

Mel Parsons is an award-winning indie folk and alt country singer, songwriter, and guitarist based in Lyttleton. She is touring her seventh album Castle Hill, currently number one on the Official Top 20 Aotearoa Albums Chart.

This show, which included the whole new album and many older favourites, was a revelation. The interaction between Mel and the band and the audience was natural and encouraged. The vibe was fun! The superb band – drummer Jed Parsons, guitarist Josh Logan (also the album producer), and Aaron Stewart on double and electric bass – all provided impeccable backing vocals.

The first set of all 10 songs from Castle Hill opened with the hauntingly beautiful Grain by Grain. After the second song Not Enough, Mel said she was experiencing sound issues, but the sound balance was superb for the audience. After Caravan, she mentioned she had been trying desperately not to bring up the fact that the new LP went to number one, and that she had been absolutely insufferable!

Prior to Be Here Now, she described how she was trying to be more present with her children in these days of cell phone overuse. The tone became sombre with Don’t Leave the Light On, a heavy song about psychological domestic abuse. The upbeat Post High Slide, featuring full harmonies, finished the set.

Set two started with Alberta Sun from her 2015 Drylands album. The stunning 5432 featured haunting melodies. Then came Circling the City with its beautiful a cappella ending. A three-song semi-acoustic bracket followed, including Aaron’s gorgeous double bass on Down So Long, and the bluegrass vibe of True Story featuring a brief double bass solo!

After Jed’s solid drumming on Little Sadness, with its catchy chorus, Mel gave a huge shout out to the sound man, backstage crew, and everyone involved with the tour. Driving Man featured Josh’s very tasteful Mark Knopfler-esque guitar licks, followed by the upbeat and rocking Just ‘Cause You Don’t Want Me. The first encore was the mellow Don’t Wait, then sadly it was time for the last song Far Away, which sounded like an Irish reel, complete with loud audience clapping! A fun ending to the night’s sublime entertainment.

There couldn’t be a more apt programme title than Rhythm & Dance. It told me what to expect and describes what I took home.

20^th-century American music is one of my favourite genres and The Chairman Dances by John Adams is a great example of why. An ‘outtake’ from Adams’ opera Nixon in China depicting Chairman Mao dancing a foxtrot with his mistress could only have been written by an American during the 1980s while President Reagan was building a close relationship with the Soviet Union. Musically and politically clever, this was something majestic but also skewed, brought to life impeccably by Gemma New and the orchestra.

The first movement of Aaron Copland’s Clarinet Concerto is not easy to listen to. The mood is low, accentuated by shifting tonality and tightly woven clarinet and strings. That mood broke with the cadenza linking the two movements. Patrick Barry’s virtuoso clarinet playing was very clean, with a crisp, clear sound launching a jazzy liveliness, demanding energy and dexterity from the musicians. The eight bass players got to really strut their stuff with a great stomp.

Antrópolis by Gabriela Ortiz is a tantalising glimpse of Mexico City’s vitality and spirit. The surprising star? Timpani. In several brilliant, amazing solos, section principal Laurence Reese took centre stage like (but also quite unlike) the dancer who steals the floor and dazzles the crowd standing in the club.

New is celebrated for her attention to detail and texture, meticulous rhythmic control, and collaborative relationship with the orchestra. Leonard Bernstein’s Symphonic Dances from West Side Story demonstrated the extraordinary partnership between New and the NZSO. Together they brought us intense, hopeful teenage romance, energetic and vital dance in mambo and cha-cha, Cool young men circling, shouting, and posturing before the Rumble, and the tragic but powerful and emotional Finale. No words, outstanding musicians, great leadership. Unspeakably good.

The driving rain of Wellington's dark streets is an appropriately dramatic prelude to tonight's concert. The previous evening, conductor Pietari Inkinen led the NZSO in an intense Wagner programme. I arrived expecting a gentler concert, only to find myself swept into an unexpected second epic.

With concertmaster Vesa-Matti Leppänen taking the role of soloist tonight, associate concertmaster Donald Armstrong stepped into the leadership of the first violins. Armstrong was the NZSO concertmaster throughout much of my childhood in Wellington, and it was a pleasure to see him leading the orchestra once again.

Sibelius' Pohjola's Daughter opens with the irresistible pull of a great tale, themes unfolding against a dramatic landscape of sound. Drawing on characters and stories from the Kalevala, a compilation of epic poetry from Finnish, Karelian, and Ingrian folklore, the music combines rich atmosphere with a sense of narrative momentum.

Following this with Lindberg's Violin Concerto No. 2 is an effective move. The more immediately accessible Sibelius provides a point of entry into a work whose contemporary language is often more dissonant and demanding, yet the two share enough musical whakapapa that clear lines of continuity emerge.

As violin soloist, Leppänen's playing is agile, vibrant, and entirely at home in the work's shifting terrain. His close relationship with the NZSO enables him to blend seamlessly into the orchestral texture before springing clear of it again. The passages shared between Leppänen and Armstrong are astonishing, their intricately intertwined lines evidence of the deep collegial understanding between these two outstanding musicians. Cellists Andrew Joyce and Ken Ichinose are similarly impressive.

The evening closes with Sibelius’ Lemminkäinen Suite, which draws on the same mythological source material as Pohjola's Daughter. The work also traces an indirect path back to Wagner, growing out of an operatic project that Sibelius conceived under Wagner's influence before ultimately charting his own course. Those musical and historical threads help to enrich the final leg of our journey, and send us back into Wellington's wet winter night feeling we have travelled further than we expected.

Always a welcome presence in Wellington, conductor Pietari Inkinen returns alongside tenor Simon O'Neill for an evening of Wagner excerpts, presented in association with the Wellington Wagner Society. While many audience members will know Wagner chiefly through the thunderous music of his Ring Cycle operas such as the iconic Ride of the Valkyries, this programme offers a chance to explore other corners of the composer's output through excerpts from two lesser-known operas, Tannhäuser and Parsifal.

One of the challenges of an excerpts programme is that it can feel disjointed, especially in a programme such as this that heavily features overtures and preludes from acts right across the seven hours of source material. Themes are introduced, tensions are established, and then we are whisked elsewhere before their full dramatic or emotional consequences have time to unfold. Fortunately, this is more than compensated for by the quality of musicianship on display.

Inkinen’s direction appears calm and focused. I’m always impressed by his ability to build a supportive relationship with an orchestra he does not routinely conduct, creating an environment in which musicians seem comfortable taking risks and responding to one another.

Tenor Simon O'Neill is so technically assured that his voice almost ceases to register as vocal production at all, feeling instead like spontaneous, emotionally motivated speech. Every phrase emerges naturally and cleanly, supported by an extraordinary mastery of the material. Particularly impressive is the subtle character work he brings to the excerpts. As he enters, he listens intently to the orchestra, creating the sense of a character absorbed in reflection before finding the impulse to speak. It is a generous choice, drawing attention to the music even as he establishes his own presence. He also creates a clear distinction between the impassioned Tannhäuser of the first half and the more reflective Parsifal of the second.

While the excerpts format inevitably leaves me wanting more, O'Neill's interpretive intelligence and Inkinen's assured leadership of an exceptional NZSO make a satisfying meal of these selections. More importantly, they send me away curious to seek out the complete operas for myself.

Released last month, the Fragile World album has been described as “capturing The Veils in an urgent and instinctive mode”, and is their eighth studio album in 22 years. The Veils is less of a traditional band and more leader and songwriter Finn Andrews (vocals, keys, guitar, bass) enlisting an assortment of top New Zealand musicians on rotation. This 10-date New Zealand tour has the full band for the first six shows and finishes with Andrew’s four solo performances.

For such a talented songwriter, in concert Andrews was a man of so few words, he didn’t even introduce the band members by name! Changing instruments fluidly but efficiently, almost with each song, Tom Healy (guitar, bass, backing vocals), Dan Raishbrook (guitar, pedal steel guitar, bass), Dave Khan (violin, guitar, keys, percussion, backing vocals), and Joe McCallum (drums, percussion) took versatility to a whole new level.

The first song Aurora from the new album, featuring Andrews’ plaintive vocals and gorgeous piano, set anticipation levels high amongst the devoted audience. The start of Are You Awake Tonight?, also from the new album and featuring Andrews’ powerful vocals, had shades of Springsteen’s Thunder Road. On Swimming with the Crocodiles, featuring McCallum’s solid drum groove, Andrews switched to electric guitar. Khan’s eerie violin intro on Not Yet led into an almost hypnotic guitar-driven funk rhythm. The piano intro for The Dream Of Life was poignant, and Andrews described My Foolish Heart as his attempt at a country song! No Limit of Stars, featuring Khan’s gorgeous violin, had the crowd entranced and the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. Stunning. The set finished with crowd favourites Low Lays the Devil and Jesus For The Jugular, but we didn’t want the show to end.

To rapturous applause, Andrews came back on stage and, prior to The Tide That Left and Never Came Back, said he lived in Wellington, a city he loves, for a little while last year and had a lovely time... “Maranui Cafe – very nice!” Kahn then joined him on violin for the climactic last track Axolotl. Their Wellington fans love The Veils too – hopefully they’ll be back here soon.

Conductor Dane Lam, visiting from Hawaii, welcomed the audience and summed up the 2026 New Zealand Symphony Orchestra (NZSO) National Youth Orchestra (NYO) as “the jewel in the artistic crown of New Zealand” and “the future of music making”. Of course, he was right.

This was a programme conceived around big themes of the sea and voyaging. In Pray for the wanderer by the 2026 NYO composer-in-residence Jack Bewley, a bold, confident timpani and trumpet opening was followed by assured and beautifully sustained cello and violin from the section leads. With lots of contrast, repeating themes, and complex rhythms, this was not an easy piece, but the orchestra handled it expertly, bringing to the fore Lam’s vision for music making in New Zealand.

Benjamin Britten’s Four Sea Interludes opened with violins and flutes, superbly balanced by the musicians. The quality of the tone in the strings was exceptional all evening. A strong brass section and timpani built impressive final phases as the cold North Sea storm finally blew itself out.

From Britten’s North Sea we travelled to the Pacific Ocean. Michael-Thomas Foumai’s Kealaikahiki Suite celebrates the 1976 voyage of the double-hulled wa’a Hōkūle’a from Hawaii to Tahiti that revived ancient, non-instrument navigation. The huge ending of the piece reflects the enormous energy the voyage injected into a cultural revitalisation across the Pacific.

Familiar and well loved, Claude Debussy’s La Mer gave the orchestra opportunity to show their mettle. Maturity, confidence, skill, and musicianship were all on display. The strings and woodwind captured the bright sound of light on water. Crisp, alert ensemble playing gave life to the energy and playfulness of the waves. Brass and percussion drove us to an exciting conclusion.

Although many in the audience were family, whānau, and friends, the musicians absolutely earned their enthusiastic response and confirmed the 2026 NZSO National Youth Orchestra is part of the future of music making in Aotearoa.

Liam Te Wehi (Te Whānau-ā-Apanui, Ngāti Porou, Ngāti Whātua, Te Whakatōhea), or Te Wehi because “Liam doesn’t sound as cool”, is the epitome of today’s open access to fame. Not that he was seeking it… A humble man, he thought he’d spend his days fencing. Singing covers on TikTok, he soon posted his own songs that went viral for their blend of reggae, soul, and country music. He’s now touring his chart-topping debut album I’m Home.

Friday night’s sold-out concert is during yet another weather warning for Wellington, but this doesn’t dampen the spirits of the sea of cowboy hats in attendance. I assumed the audience had been through the merch, but they’d all arrived wearing their own – Te Wehi’s fans out in full force. The iciness is thawed by Tāmaki Makaurau’s endearing The Western Guide, warming us up with American country music against a campfire backdrop. The crowd are lively, creating a welcoming yet electric atmosphere that is a joy to be amidst. 

Te Wehi and his band break into original track Mr Officer, and the live sound for this genre is on: mammoth reverb on the drums, a screaming audience that reaches the Gods, immediately up, seats forgotten. I’ve always preferred original music at shows rather than covers, but Te Wehi embedding crowd favourites into his setlist feels like an honest reflection of his journey here. In true Māori tikanga, he is here to serve the collective, not himself. He tips his hat with dedications, like to mothers with Mama Don’t Cry from I’m Home and later to Whakatāne legends Kora with Burning. 

With barely a breath in between songs, Te Wehi and band keep the crowd bopping. The lights and visuals are constant, amplifying the experience silhouetting the six, but I did enjoy the subtler moments allowing poignancy to settle. Most of the harmonies are prerecorded, so I’m pleased when the band harmonise with Te Wehi for a later number. Comprising Simione Petelo (guitar), Culistofa Petelo (drums), Doulos Atinae (keys), Nafu Tofilau (keys), and Elcid Tiai (bass), the band are flawless, with two wireless guitarists up front allowing for across-the-stage play. A highlight is the guitarist shredding upstage, haloed by a ring of smoke.

A quick encore is received well, concluding Te Wehi’s 90-minute high-vibe show. 

This evening’s programme offers a carefully graded emotional journey, moving from introspective delicacy through virtuosic intensity to full‑blooded theatrical sweep. Under Benjamin Northey, the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra navigates these shifts with clarity and purpose, allowing each work to establish its own atmosphere without losing an overarching sense of cohesion.

Kenneth Young’s Douce Tristesse opens the concert, unfolding in soft pulses and drifting lines, creating an impressionistic wash of sound that would not feel out of place underscoring a turn‑of‑the‑century period drama. The orchestration is luminous without ever becoming showy, and as the piece eases into silence, I hear murmurs ripple through the audience: “pretty, so pretty.”

Samuel Barber’s Cello Concerto provides a striking contrast. I didn’t know the piece or soloist Li‑Wei Qin prior to this performance but I fell hard for both and became enthralled within a few phrases. Barber’s language is at once muscular and tender. There’s a sense of forces in flux, repelling and aligning in turns as the music pitches through complexity and full‑bodied romanticism, and in rare, sublime passages emulsifies intellect and sensuality into delicious combinations. Qin plays with a masterful ease as the concerto’s taut rhythms and brooding intensity melt into more overtly lyrical, sweeping gestures and back again.

This intensity primes the ear beautifully for Sergei Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet selections. Heard in this context, the suite’s rich harmonic language and dramatic contrasts feel especially meaty. Northey brings an additional degree of confidence and fluency to the Prokofiev and draws out the pleasure and flavours in the music. The programme includes well-loved excerpts alongside less familiar material, opening on the rich, self-assured menace of the iconic Montagues and Capulets. Throughout, the string section carries much of the work’s emotional and rhythmic weight with impressive stamina, catching the bite and precision required. Meanwhile, the brass and percussion relish Prokofiev’s more dramatic edges, delivering passages of formidable power.

By the end of the evening, we are warm, nourished, and satisfied. This is a concert that understands how to sustain indulgence and interest, leaving the audience, quite simply, well fed.