04 Jun 2007
RUBINSTEIN: Il Demone
I was never much impressed by the Russian performances of this most famous of Rubinstein’s many operas.
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.
I was never much impressed by the Russian performances of this most famous of Rubinstein’s many operas.
The music always sounded a bit too eclectic to me; too much a mixture of Western European romantic sounds peppered with some Russian influence, while at the same time clearly lacking in original melodic ideas. Therefore I hoped this Italian language performance would remedy some of the weaker parts of the score. And, as this version was specially prepared for the St.Petersburg Italian Theatre just after the world premiere in 1871, it clearly has Rubinstein’s approval. This came about three years after the famous Mefistofele première at La Scala and more than once I was reminded in the Demon’s arias of that other devil’s monologues. It may be a coincidence as Mefistofele was a famous fiasco and Boito withdrew the score after the premiere, reworked it and offered it again to the public seven years later. And I have no idea if Rubinstein was at that first performance.
His demon here is sung by a famous Mefistofele. By 1971 Nicola Rossi’s career at the top was only a memory. The voice was often throaty and had some holes in it. Roughness had replaced the necessary smoothness for roles he had sung with success in the fifties like Faust or Mosé. And yet, Rossi succeeds in making hay from his vocal failures. He was always more of a singing actor than an acting singer but the snarling, the rough spots, the hollowness that wouldn’t do in Italian roles suit the demon’s despair to a tee. With his vocal weaknesses, Rossi creates a fully credible portrait of a lonely being.
His wife Virginia Zeani was not exactly a fresh newcomer either at the time. She had been singing for 23 years at the time of the radio performance and her bel canto days were long gone as from the sixties on she specialized more and more in verismo or even modern roles (a fine Magda Sorel). Her vocal aging doesn’t work out so well as with her husband. She doesn’t sound at all like a young and innocent princess. The voice is too mature, quivers with emotion from the first note and has a small wobble in the first act. Zeani fans won’t mind but I think her Tamara overripe and not very convincing.
Agostino Lazzari as the prince does the listener a pleasure by dying in the first act so that we don’t have to suffer his whining sounds for too long. And Mario Rinaudo as Gudal (Tamara’s father) only has to offer a big but very vile sound. Maurizio Arena, maybe influenced by Rossi and Zeani, makes the score more noisy than it really is. He prefers big orchestral outbursts and treats it more like a verismo drama than a romantic opera.
Jan Neckers