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.
As rare as it may be to hear Gounod’s Faust in Bulgarian, the language differences soon pass in a good performance, especially one that includes a live performance of the bass Nicolai Ghiaurov from the prime of his performing career.
After all, opera in nineteenth-century could be performed in translation and even with each principal singing in their own native languages. Such was the case when Gustav Mahler arrived in Budapest in 1888 and faced a performing tradition that allowed for multiple languages. Just as Mahler succeeded, to a degree, in arriving at a more consistent approach to opera by the time he left Budapest in 1891, so too do audiences almost expect such practices to be absent in the twentieth century, and certainly by 1959, when this recording was made.
The differences are not limited to the language, though, as the score was adapted to have the Valentin’s aria “Avant quitter” occur after the overture and just before the conventional first scene with Faust in his study in lieu of its place in the middle of that act (as Act 1, no. 6). This kind of revision is jolting, but not incomprehensible, and it establishes a certain tone by having ones of the opera’s more memorable pieces occur first.
While interest in this performance may focus on Ghiaurov, the other principals are strong and the ensemble as a whole is convincing. The intensity of the interpretation emerges, even when the opera is sung in translation and, further, in an unfamiliar language. The diction sounds clean, and more, the line as conceived in French, is not lost in the Bulgarian. Familiarity with Gounod’s Faust brings out, in a sense, an inner prompter to echo silently the lines of the French libretto even without having a text and translation to consult.
In some ways, it is reminiscent of Reiner’s recording of Prokofiev’s Alexander Nevsky with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The latter is sung in English, but the intensity of the performance may be seen to compensate for the use of a translation for the original text. Likewise, Atanas’s Faust works well, and those interested may want to listen to some of the more popular numbers, like Valentine’s aria or the “Veau d’or” scene of Mephistopheles or Marguerite’s “Jewel” aria. Those intrigued may wish to look further and enjoy the fine timing at the end of third act, where the interaction between Faust and Marguerite is memorable. If there is a weakness, it is, perhaps the chorus, which does not have the distinct sound that modern audiences have come to expect in opera performance. At the same time, the sound is forward on the stage, catching, as it were, the principals at the footlights, but not always reflecting equally well the sound of the full ensemble. Likewise, the source of the recording poses some challenges, which result in beating when Katjan Popova sounds as though she is singing directly into the microphone in full voice.
Such concerns are small quibbles, as it is possible to become accustomed to the sound and enjoy the fine, if not well-known performance. Given his later reputation, this recording is of interest for the role of Nicolai Ghiaurov in the role of Mephistopheles, and his performance is quite memorable. The rich sound of the Bulgarian bass is prominent in this recording, and those familiar with some of the singer’s other recordings will want to hear him in this live performance. In fact, the third CD includes excerpts from a performance of Verdi’s Attila (sung in Italian) with Ghiaurov in the title role (from a performance in Sofia), and those tracks are also of interest for hearing the bass in fine voice especially when heard in ensemble with Ezio (Nikola Vassilev), whose vocal style is less forward and projective than that of Ghiaurov. In this well-known role for Ghiaurov, the spontaneity of the live performance is of interest, and the sound quality is notable for a clear presentation of his voice.
The other bonus tracks on that CD (all undated, unfortunately) also feature some of the other principals heard in the recording of Faust, including the soprano Katja Popova (“Adieu, notre petite table” from Massenet’s Manon and “O mio bambino caro” from Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi), the baritone Georgi Genov with an extended aria from Rimsky-Korsakov’s The Tsar’s Bride (sung in Bulgarian), and the tenor Ilija Jossifov (“Che gelida manina” from Puccini’s La bohème and Lensky’s aria from the second act of Tchaikovsky’s Eugen Onegin). These are fine singers who are not known in the West, yet who were part of the music culture in which Ghiaurov developed as a performer. Such a perspective demonstrates the strong tradition in which the bass worked, and which for various reasons was essentially closed to the West. Again, the regional color of Bulgarian-language performances may set these recordings apart, but that does not seem entirely out of place, as opera is still performed in English translation at the English National Opera and elsewhere.
By no means the only Faust to own, this recording has much to offer. Those familiar with Ghiaurov’s voice should appreciate the live performance, which stands well besides some of Gala’s other releases in this genre.
James L. Zychowicz