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.
Dynamic brought its cameras to the Rossini Opera Festival in Pesaro, Italy, in August 2005 to record Bianca e Falliero, one of Rossini's so-called “serious” operas, and one that had only been rescued from many decades of neglect by the festival itself, in 1986.
The very long first act takes it time to set up a basic situation. Contareno, a Venetian noble, wants his daughter to marry Capellio, a sometime enemy. Bianca, the daughter, however, is in love with a military hero, Falliero. Contareno threatens Bianca, forcing her to submit to the marriage, but Falliero breaks up the ceremony. In act two he manages to meet Bianca alone, only to have to flee. When caught at the Spanish Embassy, he is arrested. In the prolonged climax, Falliero faces execution as a traitor to Venice, but Bianca’s protestations of love convince Capellio to release her from the marriage to him, and eventually Contareno relents as well.
Characters in such a scenario do not have “arcs” — they tend to veer with manic speed from exulting in triumph, through declarations of love, to cries of despair. The prolonged exposition of the first act makes for slow-going, but Rossini composed some wonderful music for the second act, with its greater variety of situation.
As with the better-known Tancredi, Rossini wrote the heroic lead for a mezzo, and Daniella Barcellona would surely have delighted the composer. Almost twice as tall as her soprano, Maria Bayo, Barcellona can use her size to effect a masculine pose. More importantly, her strong yet flexible instrument delivers the music with style. And it takes some formidable singing to make a viewer overlook the hideous costume forced upon Barcellona, a bizarre mish-mash of fur apron, silky ruffled sleeves and leather. Perhaps her wild mane of hair is meant to evoke that of a lion, since a huge representation of that animal, symbolic of the city, also dominates the staging of some scenes.
Although close-ups reveal that Bayo is not truly of ingenue-age, in this performance her light soprano sounds fresh. The duets with Barcellona have electricity, and her final scenes come off especially well. The tenor lead here is the bad guy, Contareno, and the able Francesco Meli sings him from a wheel-chair. At first your reviewer wondered if this was a director’s conceit, but the Meli’s crutches at curtain indicate otherwise. The explanation for the painter and easel throughout much of act one remains elusive.
Director Jean-Louis Martinoty tries to keep the action comprehensible and fresh, with the effort being rather more evident than any success. The rear of the stage is often an enclosed space, and occasionally Martinoty stages tableaux, such as Bianca asleep on a bed when Falliero reminisces about her from his holding cell, and a fantasy wedding for the two lovers. A libretto like this probably would be too nakedly archaic in a truly traditional production, while some updating or director’s conceit would crush its fragile structure. Martinoty hasn’t found the solution, but he hasn’t mangled the opera either.
The handsome sets are by Hans Schavernioch, and Daniel Ogier designed the attractive costumes, apart from the misbegotten one for Falliero.
And since singing is what it’s all about in such an opera, special mention must be made of the cameo by tenor Karel Pajer, actually double cast as Officer/Usher. His pungent, high-lying voice melds beautifully with Barcellona in a short prison scene.
Rossinians will need no urging, but other opera fans should consider this set for the singing of Barcellona and Bayo, especially in the strong second act.
Chris Mullins