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.
“Gypsies! Filthy, dirty, thieving gypsies!” cried Amy Sedaris as Jerri Blank from one delightful Strangers With Candy episode years back. For those who have experienced a forced ‘chance’ meeting with one of these colorful characters in say, Granada, Spain, they may have espoused a similar belief in recent years.
These feisty and caustic travelers who polkadot their way across continental Europe grow ever more peculiar as time passes. As most members of society grow and change with culture and technology, the gypsies remain seemingly dormant or frozen in time. Interacting with gypsies is much like Dorian Gray gazing at his own contorted painting: As we remain in touch with the changes of the world, the gypsies become ever more so pesky and grotesque.
In the mid to late 19th century there was a fascination with the lifestyles of these now begrudged people. Adolf Heyduk, a Czech poet, had in 1859 published an anthology titled, Ciganske melodie (Gypsy Melodies) which quickly inspired composers Karel Bendl and Antonin Dvorak, (both Czech) to set his words to music. The Suprahon label (which shares its homeland with the aforementioned artists) has uniquely compiled four composers (including Johannes Brahms and Vitezslav Novak) who had in the 1880’s and 90’s adapted their music to Heyduk’s poetry.
These songs capture gypsies as the unfettered and passionate people they once were conceived to be. In a distant time when they differed far less from the average citizen than they do now, their lifestyles were possibly viewed as more exuberant than the perceived nuisance they are today. This album simply titled, “Gypsy Melodies” consists of baritone Roman Janal and pianist Karel Kosarek breathing a new life into these seldom heard treasures.
Janal and Kosarek shift deftly through the four set of songs almost seamlessly. The pieces by Karel Bendl are the shortest and most epigrammatic of all of the Heyduk passages and prove to sound the most exotic of all four composers. The piano is used to evoke the authentic gypsy ensemble by acting as the triangle and cimbalon at several points. This gives the first fourteen pieces a flavorful almost non-western feel which is contrasted to the romantiscm of the Vitezslav Novak set.
Johannes Brahms’ set consists of text translated from Hungarian and prove to sound thicker and more like Brahms than non-western music. However, his pieces are lightly sprinkled with a few subtleties of gypsy music. Pianist Kosarek elegantly handles the change of style from the Bendl’s ethnological yearnings to Dvorak’s and Novak’s more lyrical sounds. Baritone Janal is superb in handling the upper tenor reaches of Novak’s pieces. He performs with a boundless and flawless air that enhances these recordings and provides the listener with a masterful range of emotion and sound. Together with Kosarek’s piano playing they make a truly magnificent record.
Overall, “Gypsy Melodies” captures a historical moment in time when the burgeoning middle class began to react with an estranged population. Though, more than a mere document of 19th century social class differences, the music and poetry revived here is thoughtfully fashioned with attention to detail and beauty. This album provides more weight than one imagines there to be. And even if you have ever haggled with the gypsies while vacationing in Paris it may bring a new perspective and adoration to those commonly regarded as vile and plunderous beings.
B. Fraipont