The Sixteen continues its exploration of Henry Purcell’s Welcome Songs for Charles II. As with Robert King’s pioneering Purcell series begun over thirty years ago for Hyperion, Harry Christophers is recording two Welcome Songs per disc.
In February this year, Albanian soprano Ermonela Jaho made a highly lauded debut recital at Wigmore Hall - a concert which both celebrated Opera Rara’s 50th anniversary and honoured the career of the Italian soprano Rosina Storchio (1872-1945), the star of verismo who created the title roles in Leoncavallo’s La bohème and Zazà, Mascagni’s Lodoletta and Puccini’s Madama Butterfly.
Collapsology. Or, perhaps we should use the French word ‘Collapsologie’ because this is a transdisciplinary idea pretty much advocated by a series of French theorists - and apparently, mostly French theorists. It in essence focuses on the imminent collapse of modern society and all its layers - a series of escalating crises on a global scale: environmental, economic, geopolitical, governmental; the list is extensive.
Amongst an avalanche of new Mahler recordings appearing at the moment (Das Lied von der Erde seems to be the most favoured, with three) this 1991 Mahler Second from the 2nd Kassel MahlerFest is one of the more interesting releases.
If there is one myth, it seems believed by some people today, that probably needs shattering it is that post-war recordings or performances of Wagner operas were always of exceptional quality. This 1949 Hamburg Tristan und Isolde is one of those recordings - though quite who is to blame for its many problems takes quite some unearthing.
The voices of six women composers are celebrated by baritone Jeremy Huw Williams and soprano Yunah Lee on this characteristically ambitious and valuable release by Lontano Records Ltd (Lorelt).
As Paul Spicer, conductor of the Royal Birmingham Conservatoire Chamber Choir, observes, the worship of the Blessed Virgin Mary is as ‘old as Christianity itself’, and programmes devoted to settings of texts which venerate the Virgin Mary are commonplace.
Ethel Smyth’s last large-scale work, written in 1930 by the then 72-year-old composer who was increasingly afflicted and depressed by her worsening deafness, was The Prison – a ‘symphony’ for soprano and bass-baritone soloists, chorus and orchestra.
‘Hamilton Harty is Irish to the core, but he is not a musical nationalist.’
‘After silence, that which comes closest to expressing the inexpressible is music.’ Aldous Huxley’s words have inspired VOCES8’s new disc, After Silence, a ‘double album in four chapters’ which marks the ensemble’s 15th anniversary.
A song-cycle is a narrative, a journey, not necessarily literal or linear, but one which carries performer and listener through time and across an emotional terrain. Through complement and contrast, poetry and music crystallise diverse sentiments and somehow cohere variability into an aesthetic unity.
One of the nicest things about being lucky enough to enjoy opera, music and theatre, week in week out, in London’s fringe theatres, music conservatoires, and international concert halls and opera houses, is the opportunity to encounter striking performances by young talented musicians and then watch with pleasure as they fulfil those sparks of promise.
“It’s forbidden, and where’s the art in that?”
Dublin-born John F. Larchet (1884-1967) might well be described as the father of post-Independence Irish music, given the immense influenced that he had upon Irish musical life during the first half of the 20th century - as a composer, musician, administrator and teacher.
The English Civil War is raging. The daughter of a Puritan aristocrat has fallen in love with the son of a Royalist supporter of the House of Stuart. Will love triumph over political expediency and religious dogma?
Beethoven Symphony no 9 (the Choral Symphony) in D minor, Op. 125, and the Choral Fantasy in C minor, Op. 80 with soloist Kristian Bezuidenhout, Pablo Heras-Casado conducting the Freiburger Barockorchester, new from Harmonia Mundi.
A Louise Brooks look-a-like, in bobbed black wig and floor-sweeping leather trench-coat, cheeks purple-rouged and eyes shadowed in black, Barbara Hannigan issues taut gestures which elicit fire-cracker punch from the Mahler Chamber Orchestra.
‘Signor Piatti in a fantasia on themes from Beatrice di Tenda had also his triumph. Difficulties, declared to be insuperable, were vanquished by him with consummate skill and precision. He certainly is amazing, his tone magnificent, and his style excellent. His resources appear to be inexhaustible; and altogether for variety, it is the greatest specimen of violoncello playing that has been heard in this country.’
Baritone Roderick Williams seems to have been a pretty constant ‘companion’, on my laptop screen and through my stereo speakers, during the past few ‘lock-down’ months.
Melodramas can be a difficult genre for composers. Before Richard Strauss’s Enoch Arden the concept of the melodrama was its compact size – Weber’s Wolf’s Glen scene in Der Freischütz, Georg Benda’s Ariadne auf Naxos and Medea or even Leonore’s grave scene in Beethoven’s Fidelio.
Zelmira Gioachino Rossini, music and Andrea Leone Tortola, libretto ORC 27 Scottish Chamber Orchestra Maurizio Benini, conductor Besides its Opera in English series on Chandos, Peter Moore's Foundation has sponsored the recording of many a fine bel canto rarity on...
Zelmira
Gioachino Rossini, music and Andrea Leone Tortola, libretto
ORC 27
Scottish Chamber Orchestra
Maurizio Benini, conductor
Besides its Opera in English series on Chandos, Peter Moore's Foundation has sponsored the recording of many a fine bel canto rarity on the label Opera Rara. Donizetti operas received much attention in past years; lately, Rossini has been favored, and Opera Rara's latest resurrection, Zelmira, is a worthy tribute indeed — a finely played, beautifully sung performance of an opera perhaps unlikely to ever regain a foothold in the staged repertory, but with music more than worth a hearing.
All the hallmarks of the classy Opera Rara production are here: superlative artwork, beautifully presented; a booklet of substantial size and content, with a comprehensive essay and fully translated libretto (Italian/English), a lovely range of photos of the performers rehearsing and performing, and most importantly, a commitment to the highest musical standards. The sets do not come cheap, but no one could doubt that the price is justified.
Zelmira belongs to Rossini's string of dramatic efforts composed for Naples, perhaps the best known of which today are La donna del lago and Ermione, the latter having recently enjoyed a remarkable run at New York City Opera. While many of Rossini's comedies maintain a firm grip in the repertory, these dramatic efforts have suffered relative neglect. Before too many reasons are proposed, a look at the performing history of Zelmira, contained in the CD booklet and supplied by the estimable Tom Kaufman, suggests that it is not only the modern era that slighted these operas. Zelmira premiered in 1822; it enjoyed performances in many top opera houses for about ten years. Lisbon saw it in 1839, and after that, Zelmira fell into a long slumber, not to reawake until 1965. This live set is not from a staged production, but rather from a concert performance at the Edinburgh International Festival in 2003.
Why the neglect? Here the essay by Jeremy Commons really earns our thanks, for it is not only wonderfully informative but also clear and honest in its perspective. Right from its debut, the opera earned fine notices for Rossini's score and derisive comment for the libretto, especially the contrived story. Commons refers to the plot's "inverosimilitudes," and they are aplenty. Our finest directors would really be put to the test by a scene such as the one where our put-upon heroine, going to see her estranged husband, interrupts a murder attempt, pulls the knife out of the assassin's hand, only to have the villain tell the freshly-awakened king that she (still holding the knife, of course) was about to commit the crime.
But such unlikely scenes occur throughout many a well-regarded opera. The difference here is in the superficial characterization. Zelmira is the dutiful daughter and faithful wife, despite every tribulation thrown her way. Her husband Ilo is the loving husband in sorrow for the seeming duplicity of his wife, which he believes due to the efforts of the dastardly Antenore and his malevolent lieutenant Leucippo. None of these characters undergoes change or reveals any depth. Zelmira pretty much proceeds like an old silent serial, with various cliff-hangar situations until the literally incredible end, where just as the villains close in to finish off our saintly heroes, the good guys break through a wall and send the baddies off to meet their just desserts.
And what a great time a classy cast has with all this malarkey. Bruce Ford and Marco Palazzi, tenor and baritone, make a wonderfully evil pair. Palazzi's handsome voice should go on to more prepossing roles. Elizabeth Futral's soprano aches with femininity and pain without allowing the heroine's outlandish trials to become too exasperating. A nice counterpart to Ford's high-flying tenor villain is Ilo, an even more high-flying tenor role for the good but confused prince/husband, sung by Antonio Siragusa with admirable control and resourcefulness, if not the last word in elegance.
Rossini's tremendous scoring, often calling to mind great moments in later, more esteemed operas (particularly those of early/middle Verdi) gets a tremendous performance by the Scottish Chamber orchestra, led by Maurizio Benini. The ensemble's chorus also makes a wonderful contribution, especially in a chorus by priests near the end of act one.
This set represents the best Opera Rara has to offer - featuring some wonderful music that would otherwise go unheard, offering talented performers the opportunity for some real vocal display, and providing an important historical service to those who want to know more about the origins of this art form. Zelmira, despite the "inverosimilitudes," is a veritable winner.
Chris Mullins