“…the adventurous British percussionist Joby Burgess … disgorging the repertoire of his recital programme Pioneers of Percussion … it’s hard to resist being pinioned to the spot by the abrasive attack of Xenakis’s classic Psappha or, in a quieter way, the abstract tapestry of Feldman’s The King of Denmark, music with no centre of gravity. I suggest listening through headphones: it will take your head to an entirely new place.” Geoff Brown, The Times 2021
“The composer is associated with London’s dance-music scene … Mechanised, percussive toccata brilliance sits beside a certain melodiousness … with Burgess as soloist, the Bass Drum Concerto.” Paul Driver, The Times, 2019
“… a lively crowd packed into the darkened depths of Ambika P3 and a programme of “machines” music. The climax was the British premiere of Gabriel Prokofiev’s new Concerto for Trumpet, Percussion, Turntables and Orchestra, featuring the virtuosity of Daniel de Gruchy Lambert, Joby Burgess and Mr Switch in a riff-driven 20-minute score … with fascinating interplay between the soloists.” Richard Morrison, The Times, 2016
“Bartok’s Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion — a timeless masterpiece … profound organic continuity and mysteriousness…” Paul Driver, The Times, 2015
“Tōru Takemitsu‘s Seasons for solo percussion, was a revelation; Joby Burgess navigated the panoply of instruments as though the music were occurring to him on the spur of the moment, yet always making every sound-event critical both in its employment and placement. The result was that the work’s multiple trajectories and interplays with timbral contrast, register, levels of density, melody and noise, made its 16-minute duration utterly spell-binding. One would have liked to have heard it immediately again as soon as it finished.” Simon Cummings, 5against4, 2015
“percussionist Joby Burgess — riveting in his solo realisation of Takemitsu’s graphic score Seasons, as he stroked and bashed an astonishing clutter of drums, sheets and metal rods.” Geoff Brown, The Times, 2015
“John McLeod’s Thrashing the Sea God is notable for its originality and poignancy. Set in ancient China and composed for one person and a vast array of percussion, it stretches the definition of opera but does everything that a good opera should.
Dressed in a pastel green costume reminiscent of traditional Chinese dress, Joby Burgess cut an intriguing figure. He seemed completely inside his character, injecting his performance with emotion and sensitivity, with no inhibitions about performing as a distressed female, singing high up in his falsetto register.
The array of percussion is inspired by oriental musical heritage, creating a luscious texture of light, dark, pleasant and ominous sounds. Firstly, Burgess struck five small Peking opera gongs with expert sensitivity, making them seem to articulate a song of despair. The other four episodes achieved similar melodiousness; the vibraphone in particular was spine-chilling and the woodblocks, cowbells, Chinese and sizzle cymbals, bongos and congas at one station added up to a rich mixture of timbres. Burgess also made good use of the bell tree and mark tree’s contrasting effects.
Consistently, Burgess’ talent is to make drums sing. He makes percussion less implements to be hit and more harmonious instruments to be stroked into life. The range of sounds he coaxed from the five stations on this occasion was wonderfully unpredictable, captivating and imbued with constant momentum. Added to the musical success was a recurring dramatic motif of tearing up the sheet music after each orchestral episode – intended, presumably, to symbolise the protagonist’s hatred of the scholarship for which her departed husband has honoured.
The ending was simple but powerfully tragic. In silence, Burgess took up a knife, held it high and plunged it into his chest. Like the rest of the opera, it was dramatic, bittersweet, and enacted with finesse.” Katy S Austin, BachTrack, 2012
“The festival programme for 2012 included the mini-opera Thrashing the Sea God by the Scottish composer John McLeod, which showed how much McLeod’s travels throughout China had influenced this piece for solo percussionist. The performer is dressed in the costume of a principal male soprano of the Imperial Chinese Opera of Canton, and has to be a percussionist. Joby Burgess performed his way through the story on a wide range of tuned and untuned percussion that adorned the stage. Burgess certainly looked the part in the Chinese costume and remained throughout in character of the forlorn wife.
Burgess captured the poise and reverence before every percussion episode, moving between four collections of instruments. One of these sets of instruments was a set of gongs at the far left of the stage, and Burgess would frame each episode of material by returning to the gongs. Each episode of material was followed by either destruction of the sheet music for that musical moment, or the wife would caress the sheet music. The centre of the stage progressively became filled with the fragments of ripped sheet music until the final moment when the wife takes her own life. The removal of the sheet music from the music stand was always a flamboyant gesture, varying in grandeur after each percussion episode. Even the tearing of the sheet music at the centre of the stage reflected the emotional intent of the music it followed, varying from aggressive attempts to tear the large manuscript to more deliberate and tender ripping. It was as if each episode was a reflection on the divorce letter and the ritualistic tearing a manisfestation of the wife’s process of coming to terms with the end of her marriage.
Burgess sang the soprano role well, in an appropriately strained falsetto, and his percussion playing was colourful and incredibly skilful throughout. Everything about his performance was in keeping with the character and he never stopped being the wife throughout – every percussion episode preceded by a martial arts style poised posture. McLeod’s music captured the story with skill and a musical rhetoric that exploited the possible colours of the percussion with aplomb, tinged with something of the Orient.
This was a beautifully conceived piece of music theatre, with the lighting sensitively balanced to capture the dramatic moments well. It will always require a percussionist of virtuosic skill to capture the sheer range expected in McLeod’s music and Burgess seemed ideal for the role.” Steven Berryman, I Care If You Listen, 2012
“The charismatic percussionist Joby Burgess, whose energy and precision are always inspiring, was an ideal advocate. Prokofiev has succeeded in creating a piece where the lack of pitch variety is not a glaring problem – certainly an achievement: instead he throws the spotlight on touch, timbre, pressure, volume and articulation, while imaginative scoring (much of it arresting) and melodic interest are confined to the orchestra.”
Helen Wallace, Classical-Music.com, 2012
“Gabriel Prokofiev's Concerto for Bass Drum was receiving its first European performance, and Joby Burgess gave it a great airing, playing with excellent control and extracting a huge range of sounds from the drum. There were crazy effects galore, from bowing a string protruding from the middle of the drum to tapping on its metal frame with (what may have been) thimbles.” Paul Kilbey, Bachtrack, 2012
“Gabriel Prokofiev's Concerto for Bass Drum and Orchestra, receiving its European performance with a doughty soloist in Joby Burgess, certainly showed there’s a lot one can do with, and to, such an instrument, here slung on a serious wrought-iron frame; and the accompaniments had a pleasant, mostly motoric efficiency.” Paul Driver, The Times, 2012
“Newest of all was Gabriel Prokofiev’s Concerto for Bass Drum and Orchestra, co-commissioned by the LCO … a compact work of hiccupping rhythms, rumbling atmospherics and varied colours, athletically despatched by Joby Burgess and Brunt’s spirited troops. Some ritual twinges recalled Stravinsky, the chief rival of Gabriel Prokofiev’s grandfather; a fast, jagged trumpet suggested Frank Zappa.” Geoff Brown, The Times, 2012
“Joby Burgess, the insanely talented British percussionist, did the honors as soloist as we all got schooled in Creativity 101. If you think you have an idea of what a concerto for bass drum and orchestra might sound like, just know you are completely wrong and you don’t. Prokofiev brilliantly saw past everything on the surface and found the inner life of the instrument. We heard it moan, sing, wail, reverberate, clink, clank, and everything in-between. At one point Burgess held a string that had been poked and strung through one of the drum heads and bowed it like a bizarrely proportioned erhu. Another time he was on bended knee embracing each side of the drum (tilted horizontally) in order to strike and mute it simultaneously. The orchestral accompaniment ran the gamut from delightful melodies to slow groves; it was astonishing how well the orchestra and drum complimented each other. If you ever get a chance to see this performed live, block out the date and buy your tickets immediately.” Kathryn J Allwine Bacasmot, Chicago Classical Music, 2012
“a prominent figure in the alt-classical scene … Joby Burgess, the soloist coaxed all manner of sounds from the oxlike instrument, often wielding multiple sticks in each hand and even using his fingers and elbows … the words athleticism and stamina come to mind.” James R. Oestreich, New York Times, 2012
“The concert also included a premiere of the Concerto for Bass Drum and Orchestra by Gabriel Prokofiev, Sergei’s grandson. Played by the remarkable soloist Joby Burgess, the piece was rhythmically charged, almost danceable, yet also explored diverse sounds and textures.” Ronni Reich, The Star-Ledger New Jersery, 2012
Joby Burgess was armed with all manner of implements usual and unusual with which to beat, stroke, tap, twang or otherwise coax an array of wonderful sounds from his 3 foot diameter drum, which comes with its own suspension rig. The concerto consisted of 5 eclectic sections with titles like Bass War, Four to the Floor and May Speed. While at times it bordered on presumably deliberate cacophony, for the most part this was a complex mixture of classical sounds and modern groove. Fun to play and more than fun to listen to.
“It was clear that everyone performing was enjoying it from our virtuoso percussionist to the orchestra and to conductor, Rossen Milanov whose platform could barely contain his movements. Most pleasing of all was the reception the piece received at its completion. The sold out auditorium cheered and clapped as shouts of “bravo” rang out. Gabriel Prokofiev himself was on hand in the audience to join Burgess and the orchestra to receive the ovation the evening deserved. Thanks to everyone at Princeton University and beyond who brought this avant garde work to such spectaclar fruition.” Andrew Veloux, Princeton Record Exchange Blog, 2012
“Different personalities rose to the challenge — Richard Benjafield all controlling serenity, Joby Burgess’s body pulsing and face beaming as he struck with the mallets. Sure, you space out, trip out, even switch off, when you listen to Drumming. But here at least there was always plenty to plug you right back in. No wonder the composer himself, taking his bow at the end, looked so pleased.” Neil Fisher, The Times, 2010
The majestic detours of Sir John Tavener’s spiritual journey never fail to impress … a multipart choir accompanied by portentous bongs from a percussionist (Joby Burgess) playing bells and a Tibetan temple bowl.” Richard Morrison, The Times, 2006
“Given under the banner of the London Jazz Festival, this encounter between the Britten Sinfonia and Nitin Sawhney covered nearly every musical style … the roots of music were not ignored, and it was good to hear both a Steve Reich classic, Clapping Music, in which Sawhney was joined by Joby Burgess …” John Allison, The Times, 2004
“You won’t find much aural wallpaper on Insomniac, the debut release, on their own label, of new noise … The two musicians — Janey Miller (oboe) and Joby Burgess (percussion) — attack such scores with an almost frightening vigour and skill. Sour, piercing notes sail out of Miller in breaths that never end; the Devil would appreciate Burgess’s dexterity with drums, gongs, djembes, cymbals, whip and the rest of a large arsenal.” Geoff Brown, The Times, 2003