24 May 2006
PUCCINI: Turandot
This must be the first Turandot that has in the sleeve notes three photographs of the soprano who sings Liu compared to two of the lady in the title role.
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.
This must be the first Turandot that has in the sleeve notes three photographs of the soprano who sings Liu compared to two of the lady in the title role.
So much for priorities though there may be a reason for it. This issue is mostly destined for the Spanish speaking countries and Arteta is quite a name there, popular too due to some zarzuela-recordings. I’m nevertheless more impressed by her Liu than by her solo-zarzuela-album. The voice on this Turandot is almost a cross between Mirella Freni and Renato Scotto; there is something of Freni’s sweetness and Scotto’s intensity. Moreover, Arteta has some magical pianissimi which she uses abundantly. Her performance nevertheless proves to be a real live one without Domingo-editings to cut away false or missed notes. She comes in too early in her ‘Signore ascolta’ and has to repeat the phrase and in my opinion, agreed not a very purist one, it makes for a charming effect. Less charming is the end of her second aria ‘Tu che di gel sei cinta’ where there is once more a misunderstanding between pit and scene.
The tenor is Ignacio Encinas, not a well-known name to most readers, but alas too well known to me who has suffered him a lot at the Walloon Opera. Encinas is today’s version of Franco Bonisolli. Acting means strutting around like a peacock. Singing means clinging to high notes, lengthening or shortening note values as it becomes him. Phrasing is sometimes fine and often clumsy and he often succeeds of doing that in one breath. The same goes for the sound. In one note he can combine a nice dark sound followed by a dry patch. He has a good top, not many decibels (less in life than this recording would suggest) but projects well. He can be rather exciting in some verismo roles like Chénier but I also heard him as Manrico or Gualtiero (Pirata) where the liabilities were greater than the advantages. In the first act of this recording he is on his best behaviour, singing a good ‘Non piangere’ but by the second act the discipline is going down the drain and all his tricks and eccentricities are clearly audible. Sometimes there is singing and then there is sprechgesang and of course a big breath before taking the high C in ‘ti voglio tutto ardente’. And like Bonisolli one gets irritated with the mannerisms because one realizes there could be quite a voice hiding under it all.
But the main reason for acquiring this set as a valuable addition to the many great classical recordings is the Turandot of Alessandra Marc. I cannot think of a better Turandot on modern records, be it live or studio since Gina Cigna in 1937. (Yes, I know the Nilsson recordings and I even heard her twice in the role in her heydays). The voice is big, easily riding over the orchestra but it is feminine as well and not just a laser beam. She magnificently succeeds in bringing anguish to her role the moment Calaf has solved the third riddle. And, she really melts when singing her second aria ‘Dal primo pianto’. Agreed, on top and at full throttle she not always succeeds fully but that is minor compared to the rich overwhelming and emotionally involved sound.
The sound of this recording is a little bit constricted as if the source were a TV-broadcast and it favours the singers over the orchestra. The chorus of the Bilbao Opera is definitely underpowered so that the climax of this classical Alfano-version suffers somewhat. Therefore it is somewhat difficult to judge the merits of the conductor though his tempi are fine. There is no libretto included.
Jan Neckers