29 Jan 2006
PETITGIRARD: The Elephant Man
Perhaps instead of waiting for the next great new opera, focus should be on finding the next great opera composer.
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.
Perhaps instead of waiting for the next great new opera, focus should be on finding the next great opera composer.
This person would have a great love for the art form, a grasp for how to mate modern orchestral textures to an evocative lyricism, and, last but not least, an innate understanding of how music can convey truths about human experience, especially when tied to a tightly conceived narrative. Do we have such a composer on the scene today?
November 2002 saw the premiere of a new opera by composer Laurent Petitgirard, his first effort in the genre, and Marco Polo has released a DVD of a live performance held at the Nice Opera house. The Elephant Man portrays the life of Joseph Merrick, a man suffering from a horribly disfiguring disease. His story is familiar both from a successful stage drama of the 1980s and David Lynch’s esteemed film, with John Hurt and Anthony Hopkins. Petitgirard composed a score for a libretto by Eric Nonn.
Nothing really new is brought to the scenario. The first of four acts focuses on Merrick’s life as a carnival freak. Then a Dr. Treves takes him to his clinic, where a beautiful nurse offers her sympathy. In the second half, Merrick begins to chafe under the observations Dr. Treves puts him through, and then in the fourth act, realizing he will never be less than a freak to the world (and with his disease progressing), he dies.
As compared to the film, the portrayal of the carnival owner (called Tom Norman, sung with charismatic sleaze by tenor Robert Breault) suggests a real affection for Merrick. And Dr. Treves comes across as less sympathetic than the conscientious physician Hopkins portrayed. The basic trajectory and mood of the story, however, remains essentially unchanged.
This is problematic for an opera, for Merrick never really interacts with the other characters, so that dramatic tension never develops. When Merrick ends act two in despair with cries of “Pity me,” the opera verges dangerously near becoming just a high-toned equivalent of the freak show portrayed in act one.
However, Petitgirard reveals himself to be a potentially fine opera composer. His mostly tonal score doesn’t sound like a regressive adaptation of older techniques, and yet it doesn’t belabor the monotonous clichés of so much contemporary music. Petitgirard has a particular skill for writing dramatic, musical recitative passages, even though some of those scenes (such as the act three confrontation between Treves and a hospital overseer named Carr-Gomm) go on too long. A composer as dramatically acute as Puccini would have asked for such scenes to be trimmed.
The many choral set pieces also have a searing power, and a final statement of a theme associated with Merrick, played by solo violin onstage as Merrick dies, may be one of the best tunes any new opera has had in quite a while.
So while the opera cannot exactly be called a success in itself, as a platform for introducing a composer of great potential, it has much of interest.
The singers all give committed performances. Jana Sykorova, in a latex suit, brings a warm contralto to Merrick’s soulful declarations of pain and longing. As the golden-haired nurse Mary (in an improbable white nurse’s uniform, slit up to the waist on one side!), Valérie Condoluci sings as attractively as she looks. Nicolas Rivenq as Treves doesn’t seem to have a very large voice, but he succeeds in putting across the conflicted concern of the character.
In a small role as a coloratura diva, Magali Leger spins out some incredibly high-lying lines with amazing ease. This doesn’t add much to Merrick’s story, but does help to break up the suffocating mood of the later acts.
The production has clever touches, but also some misfires. At Treves’ clinic a free-moving platform holds Merrick’s “room,” with the tiniest bed – hardly larger than a chair – imaginable, which looks ridiculous, especially every time Merrick approaches it as if he would like to lie down on it, a quite impossible task. At a later point Treves appears from under the stage in a sort of prompter’s box. What that is about, your reviewer cannot begin to say. And at the end, a double of Merrick appears during the death scene. Confusing at first, this gambit actually became quite effective when it allowed Merrick to die at one end of the stage while still interacting with his fears and hopes as he passed away at the other end.
Petitgirard conducts his own score, so a more caring and knowledgeable performance would be hard to come by. If the opera finds its way into other houses, hearing other conductor’s take on the music could make for a rewarding experience, despite the opera’s unsatisfactory dramaturgy.
At a little over 2 hours, 45 minutes (on one disc), The Elephant Man on DVD makes for an intense, if claustrophobic experience. If Petitgirard can find another libretto that inspires him, perhaps besides lavishing his musical talent on it, he will also evaluate it for dramatic weaknesses and pester his librettist as Puccini and Verdi tormented theirs. That second opera might confirm that Petitgirard truly has the gift of opera composition.
Chris Mullins
Los Angeles Unified School District, Secondary Literacy