03 Apr 2010
Verdi’s Falstaff (Glyndebourne 2009) on Blu-Ray
Much of the fascination of the new DVD of Verdi’s Falstaff (Glyndebourne 2009) lies in the Richard Jones’s updating: the action takes place in 1946.
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.
Much of the fascination of the new DVD of Verdi’s Falstaff (Glyndebourne 2009) lies in the Richard Jones’s updating: the action takes place in 1946.
Fenton is a private-first-class; Mrs. Quickly also wears a military uniform; the front yard of the Ford house is a victory garden full of cabbages. Insofar as The Merry Wives of Windsor is a sequel to the Henry IV plays, the post-war milieu makes a kind of sense: the Hotspur rebellion has recently been defeated—though World War II was a rather different kind of conflict.
I felt that this premise presented opportunities that were missed. The sense of half-exhausted rebirth, the lingering presence of the scarecrow army in 2 Henry IV, never made itself felt: instead the Windsor of 1946 yielded a few nice comical touches, such as Ford’s Dracula costume in Act 3, scene 2, and the Victrola that played the lute strumming that accompanies Falstaff’s wooing song in Act 2, scene 2, thereby making a charming effect of karaoke. This production might have been the first to find the Samuel Beckett opera that lies within Verdi’s and Boito’s work.
The singer who plays Falstaff usually dominates the opera, and so it was here. Christopher Purves moves inside in fat suit with uncommon grace—he dances his way through the opera, even trying to get Ford to follow his lead, as if Act 2, scene 1 were a big foxtrot. Purves is a splendid comedian, waggling his fingers like W. C. Fields, but without Fields’ resources of misanthropy—it would be better to say that this is the Falstaff that Benny Hill might have thought up, a Falstaff who leers with big eyes and gets shot in the buttock by a small boy with a slingshot. Bardolfo and Pistola are second bananas in carefully choreographed production numbers: after Falstaff praises his own paunch in Act 1, scene 1, they hold out their upturned palms to him as if inviting the audience to applaud his star turn. The sense of Falstaff as comedy revue is everywhere: Ford squirts himself with seltzer water and slaps himself silly; during the sneak-up to Fenton and Nannetta, as they kiss behind a screen in Act 2, scene 2, the stalkers form a line and each person slaps the person behind him.
The musical values of this production are less impressive than the carefully contrived dramatic ones. The singing is mostly good but not distinguished, with the possible exception of Marie-Nicole Lemieux’s deliciously baritonal Quickly: the woolly-voiced Ford of Tassis Christoyannis is satisfactory; Purves’s Falstaff is a little too light in timbre but finely agile; Dina Kuznetsova’s Alice is rich and vibrant, maybe too vibrant on the higher notes. Vladmir Jurowski conducts with sufficient briskness, but without the urgency or the pungent articulation of Bernstein or Toscanini.
In his excellent notes to this recording, Russ McDonald quotes a letter from Eleanora Duse to Boito: “How melancholy your comedy is.” Duse would not have written this if she had seen this pleasant, harmless production.
Daniel Albright
See below for the standard DVD version of this recording: