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.
The sleeve notes of this interesting issue state that “ any comparison between La Fattucchiera and Italian bel canto models by Bellini or Donizetti would be too easy though it became commonplace to describe him (= Cuyàs) as the continuator of the school of Bellini.
It would be an error nowadays tot try to equate the two.” Well, I invite every opera collector to listen to the few bars of orchestral accompaniment in the first act. I’m fairly sure every one of them will tell me that this is Norma and I’ve rarely heard such blatant copying of the Sicilian’s score. I agree willingly that some of the arias and duets seem to have more of a Donizettean whiff than a Bellinian one but this only proves that Cuyàs’ contemporaries recognized what they heard. This is not to say that the opera is just uninspired piracy. But a first opera by a 22-year old composer will naturally follow the examples of his elders. Cuyàs honours all true and tried forms of his time. Conjuring up evil spirits is done with a nice and lilting waltz which makes one smile (the witches in Verdi’s Macbeth are truly impressive in comparison). Some of the joints between musical numbers are often clumsy. On the other hand the composer succeeds very well in the often long dialogues between singers and a chorus which has a far bigger role than usual at the time. And I’m glad to say that Cunyàs knows how to write a tune. It struck me after repeated hearings that while some of Donizetti’s works on Opera Rara don’t get under your skin, Cunyàs’ labour does. As he died of tuberculosis at only 22, nobody can be sure he would have kept his promise but promise it definitely was.
The recording is boosted tremendously by the strong cast though some of the names will mean next to nothing to a lot of collectors. The best known singer is tenor José Sempere, a lyric tenor with quite a lot of steel in the voice; not unlike Alfredro Kraus. Sempere’s sound is a little bit fuller and less nasal. Often he doesn’t have the older tenor’s sense of style but here he is on his best behaviour and sings with restraint and power when necessary and his high notes ring out. Ofèlia Sala is a splendid sure-footed Ismalia, technically astute in her coloratura with only an acid hint at the top of the voice. Claudia Marchi as the witch shows off a high and rich mezzo while Simon Orfila offers a full bass-baritone. Even Javier Franco as the second baritone has the necessary volume and voice needed for the role; often rare in such almost world premières where record companies (witness Bongiovanni) have to accept less talented singers willing to learn a role for just one or two performances. Josep Pons conducts the able orchestra of the Barcelona Liceu and he is rhythmically alert and gives a nice flow to the music, nicely skating over some of the crudities of some entries and exits.
It’s a pity that the recording, magnificently presented as a small book, is marred by carelessness in the sleeve notes which are so important for a completely unknown opera. I know of more than one collector who buys every Opera Rara issue just for the wonderful notes. Cunyàs is not helped by just 20 lines of biography which moreover are mistakenly printed twice in Spanish instead of English. The libretto is in Italian only and one sorely misses a page with track information (nor is there a hint in the libretto to tell one where a new track starts). And there should at least have been a small line for non-Italian speakers telling them that La Fattucchiera means fortune-teller. A pity, as every lover of the bel canto age will enjoy the music.
Jan Neckers