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.
Sergei Prokofiev’s Ivan the Terrible? Which one? Prokofiev composed music for Sergei Eisenstein’s film (part 1, 1942-44; part 2, 1945) about the sixteenth-century ruler, and the score is catalogued as op. 116. After the composer’s death, music for the film was arranged first into an oratorio (with speaker, soloists, chorus, and orchestra) by Alexander Stasevich (1961) and later into a concert scenario by Christopher Palmer (1990).
Yet in 1973 the composer Mikhail Chulaki and the choreographer Yuri Grigorovich drew on Prokofiev’s film score to create his ballet entitled Ivan the Terrible, which was given its premiere in 1975. Revised as an instrumental work, Prokofiev’s music has new life in this highly evocative ballet, which includes arrangements of music from some of the composer’s other works. This production of Grigorovich’s ballet was filmed in December 2003 for television, and the video was prepared in conjunction with Radio France.
A two-act work in 18 scenes, the ballet begins with the coronation of Ivan IV, who faces conflicts with his boyars from the start. While his defeat of the Tatars encourages the population, the boyars only scheme to ascend the throne when Ivan falls ill. Upon recovering from an illness, Ivan retrenches his power as the first act ends. In the second act, Ivan’s wife Anastasia is the target of a plot by the boyars. They play upon Ivan’s emotions when Anastasia’s former love Count Kurbsky is the one who presents her with the cup that contains the poison. The plot succeeds, and Kurbsky flees to Poland for refuge. Ivan consolidates power and assumes the title of tsar to confirm his supreme authority as the imperial ruler of Russia.
The plot of the ballet is essentially that of Eisenstein’s film, and thus establishes a new context for Prokofiev’s music. By placing the music in this setting, Grigorovich did not change Prokofiev’s original intentions, since it is used essentially to illustrate the same story. In creating this pastiche Chulaki adapted the film score by removing the vocal portions and incorporating instrumental music from other works by Prokofiev. Nevertheless, this reworking is faithful to the composer’s original score by virtue of the music being used to convey the same story. It differs from some nineteenth-century pastiches in which the intended meaning of music for one work changes when reused for as part of another score. In fact, Grigorovich’s efforts show how Prokofiev’s highly evocative score lends itself well to dance. While the images that connect the music differ between the film and the ballet, the associations are effective. This is an excellent example of how well a work can be taken from one medium to another.
At the same time, this recording captures the essence of the ballet, with the music recorded well for this medium. Moreover, the production was intended as a television broadcast, and thus benefits from camera angles and other techniques that set it apart films of ballets in which the cameras are trained onto the stage without necessarily directing the viewers’ attention to certain angles and perspectives. Moreover, the details are critical to this film, since it is an attempt to bring life to a difficult period in Russian history, which is clearly more than a solely political effort on the part of Ivan. Rather, the combination of cultural elements, so vividly suggested by the costumes and movement, seems to underscore his ultimate motivation to seize power rather than abide with what was previously the nominal position as Russia’s ruler.
As to the music itself, the sound is as polished, and the orchestral colors that are critical to the film score are a wonderful foil for the choreography. The tolling of bells with which the ballet opens becomes a physical image as young men heave the tethers in conjunction with the sounds. Such literal images are as much part of the choreography as more delicate movement, as the intimate scenes between Ivan and Anastasia, which benefit from the carefully planned movement in Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet.
One of the more telling passages in the ballet is the depiction of Ivan’s efforts to control his country, as found in the “Oprichniks” scene in the second act. Beyond any prose description, the images in Grigorovich’s choreography depict Ivan’s mastering of his people through his secret police and ultimately, his control of the boyars. The ensemble works well in this intricately staged number that shows the cohesiveness of the company. At the same time, the film conveys the essence of the passage well, with wide images that capture the full stage, when necessary. Yet the camera also works in the opposite way to close in on the fitting expressions of Nicolas Le Riche, who truly acts the role of Ivan in this work. While the final section is entitled “The Triumph of the Russian People,” it is Ivan’s victory that is the focus of this ballet, and Nicolas Le Riche brings this off in his fine performance, down to the final, commanding gesture with which the works ends.
This is a fine DVD that makes this ballet available to a wider audience. Prokofiev’s music is fittingly used in this score, and the enthusiastic applause shows how it affected the audience. While it is not authentically a ballet that Prokofiev composed, it fits well with the composer’s other contributions to the genre. At the same time, this film demonstrates the quality of productions mounted by the Corps de Ballet of the Opéra National de Paris.
James L. Zychowicz
Madison, Wisconsin