English Touring Opera are delighted to announce a season of lyric monodramas to tour nationally from October to December. The season features music for solo singer and piano by Argento, Britten, Tippett and Shostakovich with a bold and inventive approach to making opera during social distancing.
This tenth of ten Live from London concerts was in fact a recorded live performance from California. It was no less enjoyable for that, and it was also uplifting to learn that this wasn’t in fact the ‘last’ LfL event that we will be able to enjoy, courtesy of VOCES8 and their fellow vocal ensembles (more below …).
Ever since Wigmore Hall announced their superb series of autumn concerts, all streamed live and available free of charge, I’d been looking forward to this song recital by Ian Bostridge and Imogen Cooper.
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.
Although Stile Antico’s programme article for their Live from London recital introduced their selection from the many treasures of the English Renaissance in the context of the theological debates and upheavals of the Tudor and Elizabethan years, their performance was more evocative of private chamber music than of public liturgy.
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.
Evidently, face masks don’t stifle appreciative “Bravo!”s. And, reducing audience numbers doesn’t lower the volume of such acclamations. For, the audience at Wigmore Hall gave soprano Elizabeth Llewellyn and pianist Simon Lepper a greatly deserved warm reception and hearty response following this lunchtime recital of late-Romantic song.
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.
For this week’s Live from London vocal recital we moved from the home of VOCES8, St Anne and St Agnes in the City of London, to Kings Place, where The Sixteen - who have been associate artists at the venue for some time - presented a programme of music and words bound together by the theme of ‘reflection’.
'Such is your divine Disposation that both you excellently understand, and royally entertaine the Exercise of Musicke.’
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.
‘And there was war in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon; and the dragon fought and his angels, And prevailed not; neither was their place found any more in heaven … that old serpent … Satan, which deceiveth the whole world: he was cast out into the earth, and his angels were cast out with him.’
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.
There was never any doubt that the fifth of the twelve Met Stars Live in Concert broadcasts was going to be a palpably intense and vivid event, as well as a musically stunning and theatrically enervating experience.
‘Love’ was the theme for this Live from London performance by Apollo5. Given the complexity and diversity of that human emotion, and Apollo5’s reputation for versatility and diverse repertoire, ranging from Renaissance choral music to jazz, from contemporary classical works to popular song, it was no surprise that their programme spanned 500 years and several musical styles.
The Academy of St Martin in the Fields have titled their autumn series of eight concerts - which are taking place at 5pm and 7.30pm on two Saturdays each month at their home venue in Trafalgar Square, and being filmed for streaming the following Thursday - ‘re:connect’.
The London Symphony Orchestra opened their Autumn 2020 season with a homage to Oliver Knussen, who died at the age of 66 in July 2018. The programme traced a national musical lineage through the twentieth century, from Britten to Knussen, on to Mark-Anthony Turnage, and entwining the LSO and Rattle too.
With the Live from London digital vocal festival entering the second half of the series, the festival’s host, VOCES8, returned to their home at St Annes and St Agnes in the City of London to present a sequence of ‘Choral Dances’ - vocal music inspired by dance, embracing diverse genres from the Renaissance madrigal to swing jazz.
Just a few unison string wriggles from the opening of Mozart’s overture to Le nozze di Figaro are enough to make any opera-lover perch on the edge of their seat, in excited anticipation of the drama in music to come, so there could be no other curtain-raiser for this Gala Concert at the Royal Opera House, the latest instalment from ‘their House’ to ‘our houses’.
"Before the ending of the day, creator of all things, we pray that, with your accustomed mercy, you may watch over us."
When I reviewed Covent Garden’s Tosca back in January, I came very close to suggesting that we might be entering a period of crisis in casting the great Puccini operas. Fast forward six months, and what a world of difference!
Fast forward six months, and what a world of difference! Vocally, this La bohème is a triumph, musically it’s conducted and played with incredible attention to detail, dramatically it’s the right side of Bohemian.
In an age of austerity, this opera, more than most, is oddly relevant to wider social issues, though a more Marxist-inclined director than Richard Jones - perhaps Calixto Bieito - would probably make those distinctions even more unpalatable. Jones doesn’t delve much deeper than the narrative allows, so interior and exterior lives are as far as it is permitted to go: a barren, threadbare garret, with filthy linen full of holes, a single stove kept alive by the embers of discarded poetry, graffiti painted beams and unaffordable medicines versus the opulence of the Café Momus, with its crystal glassware, plush furnishings, and unaffordable bills. Only the Zeffirelli-inspired touches of romantic snowfall, blazing lights, stuccoed ceilings and palaces of expensive shopping malls give a nod towards a world that sits in uneasy alliance with the commonwealth of economic hardship.
The poverty, and the hand-to-mouth existence, of Bohemianism is quite skilfully captured in this production - at least on the surface. The artist’s paint-spattered trousers, reams of unfinished manuscripts, fossilised bread and copious amounts of opened wine bottles are symptomatic of Paris in the 1840s as they were of London in the 1980s; Café Momus could mirror the Colony Room. The ghosts of Rimbaud and Verlaine are like spiritual forefathers hovering over this staging. One senses that Richard Jones’s Bohemianism is a lived experience. But just as we are voyeurs on the pitiful poverty of Rodolfo, Marcello and Mimì so they are voyeurs on the café society they can’t afford. The choices they make are fraught with narrowness, of the moment and without complexity. Perhaps Jones doesn’t do enough to reveal how depraved an opera La bohème really is; it seems to me this is less a tragic love story, and much more an opera about perverted priorities. Given a choice between paying Benoît his rent arrears or plying him with drink and flattery to trick him into indiscretion, the latter is chosen and a night on the Quartier Latin follows. When the moral compass of Rodolfo, Marcello and Musetta is finally engaged towards the true extent of Mimì’s fate it is beyond redemption. Bohemianism is a life without responsibility.
Matthew Polezani as Rodolfo. Photo credit: Catherine Ashmore.
There is, I think, a yawning gap between the romance of Rodolfo and Mimì and the “bromance” of the boys in this production. Rodolfo and Marcello, in particular, had the kind of metrosexual relationship that one felt was constantly pushing boundaries. The symmetry of them both climbing the rafters in the garret and pumping their groins against it had the ritual, and ballet, of insects mating. In contrast, Rodolfo and Mimì often felt awkward together - and relied exclusively on their singing to push their romance. I’m not sure it helped one bit that Mimì looked exceptionally dour - I think if I had been Rodolfo I wouldn’t have bothered to light her candle, and I’d have thrown away her lost key. She looked positively Dickensian. Marcello and Musetta, however, were almost flagrant in their sexuality during her drunken waltz scene in Act II but by Act III this relationship has come to an explosive end as Marcello throws Musetta and her belongings out of the Tavern into the snow. If the one relationship is awkward this one is anything but: it’s passionate, intense and inflames the stage with emotion. It was almost unbearable to watch.
But Danielle de Niese, as Musetta, is nearly in danger of overwhelming this production. She is magnificent. Her voice is an incredibly powerful instrument, riding over the orchestra with shattering high notes. Her “ Quando m’en vo” was unforgettable, sensual, flirtatious and beautifully even of tone. Riveting to watch, she brings complexity to the character of Musetta: in Act II she exudes all the humour of a table-top dancer, in Act III you begin to feel this is a woman with depth of emotion as she trudges through the snow, and by Act IV her pathos has come full circle as she thinks only of selling her ear-rings to rescue Mimì from impending death. Musetta is clearly on a journey in this production - and Richard Jones and the costume designer, Stewart Laing, spare no effort in pointing this out quite explicitly: her dresses change throughout the production from fiery red, to a purified yellow, and finally a neutral dark.
Danielle de Niese as Musetta and Maria Agresta as Mimì. Photo credit: Catherine Ashmore.
Our Bohemian “boys” experience no such epiphany, but again the singing is first rate. Matthew Polenzani’s Rodolfo might be too light for my tastes - I probably prefer a tenor who is darker, more plaintive and haunting (such as Sandor Konya, or even Domingo). Having said that, the lyricism of this tenor was unquestionably superb on opening night - and he was nowhere better than in “Che gelida manina” which, although being so cruelly exposed for the tenor, was brought off with considerable beauty and breath-taking poise (no need to transpose the high C down here). As I’ve hinted at earlier in this review, the Rodolfo and Mimì in this production conveyed much of their passion through their singing rather than the chemistry of their acting - which is somewhat against convention since by no stretch of the imagination could the role of Rodolfo really be considered a dramatic tenor part. That Polenzani manages to do that is a formidable achievement. If, ultimately, he lacks the hybrid of honeyed and Italianate warmth (this is a particularly Anglo-Saxon sung performance at times) he’s nevertheless entirely credible as both a lover and a Bohemian poet; the voice is entirely focussed at full stretch and his diction is clear. It was also a plus to hear a singer in this house finally sing some Puccini as the composer wrote it in his score - the soto voce markings are there if one bothers to sing them.
Maria Agresta’s Mimì - despite looking a drudge and anaemic for much of the opera, but I guess that comes with this most unglamorous of roles - achieves something quite rare in the part: she makes Mimì sound like Mimì and not like any other Puccini tragi-heroine. Every word had meaning, an expressive range that extended from her emotions of love through to despair. If de Niese’s Musetta had been an instrument of power, almost like steel in its ability to soar over an orchestra, Agresta’s voice is darker, richer - more like an iron fist wrapped in a velvet glove. The voices are entirely complementary. If Agresta’s Mimì isn’t the most moving I’ve heard, it’s entirely involving with enough vocal colour to avoid giving the impression that Mimì has been dying since Act I (some singers, believe it or not, sometimes make you feel this is the longest death scene in opera).
Duncan Rock as Schaunard, Fernando Radó as Colline, Etienne Dupuis and Matthew Polezani as Rodolfo. Photo credit: Catherine Ashmore.
The rest of the cast is also very strong. Etienne Dupuis, as Marcello, has a beautifully defined baritone voice; I found him entirely compelling to watch and listen to, as I also did Duncan Rock as Schaunard. Both Dupuis and Rock have different kinds of baritone voices (a notable feature of this production is the very careful vocal casting of the major roles): Rock’s is darker, Dupuis’s slightly higher in range, often making me wonder whether the role of Rodolfo might one day be within his grasp (even if he does have to transpose down to a B flat some of those high notes). Fernando Radó was an exemplary Colline.
After the orchestra’s lacklustre playing back in January I had almost despaired hearing them play Puccini again. However, under the Italian Nicola Luisotti they were often inspired. Perhaps being sat in the fifth row from the stage, to the right of the orchestra pit, I was perhaps prone to a slightly more brass-heavy sound than usual - but the playing was transparent (the harp, for example, was entirely clear to me) and I can’t recall this orchestra playing Puccini with such lush, beautifully passionate playing. Luisotti neither lingered over the score, nor lost a grip on the drama and he supported his singers beautifully.
I’ve often come away from a performance of La bohème recalling Benjamin Britten’s thoughts on the opera: “After four or five performances I never wanted to hear La bohème again. In spite of its neatness, I became sickened by the cheapness and emptiness of the music.” The Royal Opera’s La bohème, especially when it’s this superbly well cast and played, does make me rather want to stick with the work.
Performances through to 20th July 2018, with cast changes.
Marc Bridle
Puccini: La bohème
Mimì - Maria Agresta, Rodolfo - Matthew Polenzani, Marcello - Etienne Dupuis, Musetta - Danielle de Niese, Schaunard - Duncan Rock, Colline - Fernando Radó, Benoît - Jeremy White; Director - Richard Jones, Conductor - Nicola Luisotti, Sets and Costume - Stewart Laing, Lighting - Mimì Jordan Sherin, Movement - Sarah Fahie, Orchestra of the Royal Opera House.
Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London; 16th June 2018.