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.
Jone is the only Italian opera from the 1850s by a composer other than Giuseppe Verdi to make it into the standard repertory for a period of well over 50 years, lasting until the onset of World War I before eventually disappearing.
The last confirmed performance in Italy took place in Palermo in 1924. After that, nothing anywhere in the world, except for the revival in Caracas in 1981, that was recorded and issued. First on an Italian LP, and now on a CD released in Argentina.
There is a bit of a mystery here. How could a composer have been so successful and popular about 100 years ago, with at least three operas (Jone, La Contessa d’Amalfi and Le precauzioni) in the standard repertory, and be so completely forgotten and neglected today? Unlike the works of Pacini and Mercadante, and several other composers of the period, those of Petrella have not experienced any return to popularity. In fact, the last Petrella opera to be given in Italy was I Promessi Sposi, in Naples, back in 1950, over 55 years ago. I don’t have an answer to that, except perhaps that there may have been a greater interest in reviving the works of composers who influenced Verdi, like Pacini and Mercadante, than those who, like Petrella, were influenced by him. Another factor may well have been that Petrella had earned Verdi’s scorn.
Petrella had been born in Palermo on December 10, 1813, the same year as both Verdi and Wagner. But while he did lack the greatness of the other two, especially Verdi, much of his music, certainly including Jone, makes for pleasant listening. He was a very popular composer in his day, both of comic and tragic operas. None of his early works, premiered between December 1829 and 1839 were particularly successful. It was not until Il carnevale di Venezia (Naples, Teatro Nuovo, May 20, 1851) that he really became noticed. Elena di Tolosa (Naples, Fondo, Aug. 12, 1852) followed. Then, in 1854, he took the Italian operatic world by storm with Marco Visconti (Naples, San Carlo, 1854). L'assedio di Leida (La Scala, 1856) was his fourth straight triumph, while Jone (La Scala, 1858) was a major event and remained in the repertory well into the 20th century. The creators were Augusta Albertini in the title role, the prominent spinto tenor Carlo Negrini, who also was the original Gabriele in Simon Boccanegra as Glauco, and Giovanni Guicciardi, the first De Luna as the wicked Arbace.With two exceptions (La Contessa d'Amalfi and I Promessi Sposi) his operas during the 1860s generally failed.
I was already very familiar with Simon Boccanegra, when I first heard Jone, the two operas having their premieres within less than a year of each other, and found it hard to understand how the Petrella work, which may have had as many as 600 productions, could have been so much more successful than the Verdi, which was produced about 60 times (counting both versions) during the 19th century. To give a better idea of the popularity of Jone, it was given all over Italy and Spain, and as far away as Melbourne, Alexandria, Calcutta, Jakarta, Santiago, Lima, Manila and Tbilisi. But it was never staged in Paris, Berlin or Moscow, and only once each in London (by amateurs) and Vienna (by an Italian company returning from a season in Bucharest). Its one time popularity was almost certainly due to such striking pieces as two fine numbers for the tenor (a drinking song and a romanza), the baritone’s great aria and cabaletta in Act III, and one of the most effective funeral marches in all of opera.
Much as I have enjoyed this performance of Jone in its several incarnations, I am convinced that a better cast than the one provided here could have made a much better case for the opera. Of the three principals, only baritone Gian Piero Mastromei really acquits himself with full honors. He is a fine “Verdi baritone”, and has proved himself time and again in many leading roles all over the world’s stages and on CD. Negri also had a fine career, including several season at the Metropolitan Opera. But, until another Verdi baritone of Mastromei's stature is found, and a tenor of the same caliber utilized for Glauco, this will be the only game in town.
The presentation of the opera is basically of the “bare bones” type. There is no libretto, no liner notes, and only a plot of the opera in Spanish, but without translation, not even into Italian or English. It is apparently intended for the Argentine market, not surprising since it is part of a series of CDs featuring the soprano Adelaide Negri, herself Argentinian.. A look at Adelaide Negri’s web site (www.adelaidanegri.com) tells us that they are dedicated to issuing Ms. Negri’s performances of a vast repertory, much of which originates in Buenos Aires. Others in the series include many Donizetti, Rossini, and Verdi operas. Most have been recorded many times, but other relative rarities include Spontini’s Fernando Cortez, Pacini’s Saffo and Meyerbeer’s L’africana.
If you are looking for a masterpiece sung by an all-star cast, this recording is not for you. On the other hand, if you cannot resist important 19th century works that once had a great appeal to the audiences for whom they were composed, you should get quite a bit of enjoyment from it.
Tom Kaufman