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.
Of all opera singers of the last century, no one better dominated the genre’s star power than Maria Callas. During her thirty-four years onstage, she came to embody the essence of the term “diva,” both in her stormy personal life and her equally tempestuous stage career.
There are those who can say they saw her perform live; then there are those, not even born when Callas died in 1977, who continue to idolize her through recordings. Either group will delight in three digitally-remastered releases by EMI. One is a single disc—a reissue of one of Callas’ first two albums. The other two are sets, one featuring three discs and the other a collection of eight, clearly enough Callas to keep young and old fans content.
The single disc, issued as one of EMI’s Great Recordings of the Century series, is one of Callas’ first two solo albums, recorded with Tullio Serafin and the Philharmonia Orchestra (four additional tracks have been added to the original nine, these also conducted by Serafin but featuring the Orchestra of La Scala). All made in the mid-1950s, the tracks feature Callas at her prime. She performs (recording for the first but not the last time) arias for which she would become famous: “Io son l’umile ancella,” from Adriana Lecouvreur, “Ebben? Ne andrò lontana” from La Wally, and “Dov’è l’indiana bruna from Lakmé. The additional Scala tracks include areas from Medea, a role many felt (and still feel) she was born to sing, and from La vestale. If Callas ever performed with a conductor with whom she was in perfect sync, it was Serafin, who partnered her in these recordings with respect and care. Take, for example, the tempo Serafin sets for “Una voce poco fa,” allowing Callas all the time she wants for embellishing the vocal line. Listeners can compare a second example of Callas singing this piece on the eight-disc collection. Conducted by Nicola Rescigno, the tempo is quickened and it is Callas who must keep up, which she does ably, resulting in a far more exciting performance.
The three-disc set, Maria Callas: The Platinum Collection, includes a handful of the tracks that appear on Lyric & Coloratura Arias as well as arias from Callas’ second solo album recorded with Serafin and the Philharmonia: Puccini Arias (which EMI has re-released in its Great Artists of the Century series). These selections, recorded between the mid-1950s and 1960s, present Callas with a variety of conductors and fellow artists, including Giuseppe Di Stefano, the tenor with whom she would make her final tour during 1973-74. Her powerful and agile voice left memorable interpretations of characters like Norma, Manon (both Massenet’s and Puccini’s heroines), Donna Elvira, Gioconda, and Aida. Furthermore, following traditions started in late nineteenth and early twentieth-centuries, Callas appropriated repertory from both mezzo- and tenor roles. Her versions of arias for Eboli, Dalila, and Carmen demonstrate the rich colors of her lower range. Her rendition of Orphée’s “J’ai perdu mon Eurydice” is an exquisite treatment of Gluck’s lyricism.
The eight discs in Maria Callas Live are fare for those who would hear the soprano in real-time performances on both the dramatic and concert stages. Complete with the applause and shouts of enthusiastic audiences, these recordings again come from the peak period of Callas’ career. The first six discs present excerpts from Norma (Covent Garden, 1952), Il pirata (Carnegie Hall, 1959), La sonnambula (La Scala, 1955), Lucia di Lammermoor (Berlin Opera, 1955), Medea (La Scala, 1953), Anna Bolena (La Scala, 1957), Ifigenia in Tauride (La Scala, 1957), Poliuto (La Scala, 1960), Un ballo in maschera (La Scala, 1957), La traviata (La Scala, 1955), Aida (Mexico City, 1951), Macbeth (La Scala, 1952), Tosca (Covent Garden, 1964), and Andrea Chenier (La Scala, 1955). The concerts were performed in Rome (1952), San Remo (1954), Milan (1956), Athens (1957), Stuttgart, Amsterdam, and London (all 1959), London (1962), and Paris (1963). Despite the digital remastering, these live performances, as one might expect, are less acoustically satisfying than the studio albums. Nevertheless, they offer wonderful examples to hear Callas at her dramatic best. Interesting in this collection is her concert version of the “Liebestod” in Italian.
As real fans will agree, one can never have enough Callas, but these three re-issues make a good start.
Denise Gallo*
*Author: Opera: The Basics (New York and London: Routledge, 2006)