Press

A sublime musician with a liquid technique. An orchestral player without equal, British-born Andrew Marriner is a musical conjurer whose sleight-of-hand style makes everything look deceptively easy.

One is at once struck by the rich and voluptuous sound Marriner produces in the lower registers, which is what Mozart loved best and exploited most poetically. This is playing of a high order, beautifully controlled and highly expressive.

It was Tchaikovsky's sixth symphony, though, that brought out Gergiev's electrifying best. Those fluttering hands moulded a performance of coruscating intensity from Andrew Marriner's whispered clarinet solos.

The Trojans. Andrew Marriner's clarinet solo at Andromache's appearance was only one of several tear-jerkingly beautiful instrumental episodes...

This was as Mozartian as Mozart comes, Andrew Marriner poured out the solo lines meltingly. The hushed return of the adagio's main theme was a moment of spellbinding beauty.

Andrew Marriner's clarinet whispered and soared exquisitely. I do not remember a performance of these elusive miniatures so imbued with precise feeling, so much was conveyed.

It's impossible in a short review to pay full tribute to the glories of the performance, but Andrew Marriner's haunting clarinet solo depicting Andromache's lament for the slain Hector will linger in the memory: here it dwindled into perfectly audible nothingness, a heartbreaking moment of loss and farewell.

None of the playing matched Andrew Marriner’s clarinet solo at the beginning of the pantomime-So plaintively done as to bring a hushed silence to the Albert Hall, and tears to the eyes. Over a melting accompaniment of flute and bassoon, Marriner's solo was as meaningful as any voice and combined with the deeply moving singing of the LSO chorus it was perhaps the epicentre of part one, a moment of inspired music making any who were present will never forget.

There are not so many clarinettists around with the idiomatic flair and stamina of yesterday's soloist, Andrew Marriner, one of the LSO's stars.

Andrew Marriner's heartfelt and immaculate clarinet solo to open the slow movement was the icing on the cake.

A delectable clarinet solo, played with mesmerising sensitivity by Andrew Marriner. Andrew Marriner's clarinet was the most mellifluous of all the voices before us.

Andrew Marriner's representation of Romeo's broken breath was a remarkable piece of clarinet playing.