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."
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.
Providing an opportunity to hear Bostridge perform some of the lieder included on his recently released disc of Beethoven’s songs and folksongs alongside Schumann’s Liederkreis Op.39 of 1840 - settings of Eichendorff which are sometimes over-shadowed by the other cycles of Schumann’s ‘year of song’, Dichterliebe and Frauenliebe und Leben - this recital promised to hearten my soul and mind as the autumnal nights draw in and portentous gloom enshrouds us.
But, ‘streaming’ comes in diverse forms and in the event that of the autumn head-cold variety forced me to take my musical pleasures via the digital kind. Sneezing and spluttering in a mask is neither easy nor pleasant, and to avoid alarming my fellow Wigmore Hall patrons I forewent my chance to sink into the familiar comfort of a Wigmore Hall seat and donned my headphones instead, grateful that I could still be part of the ‘audience’ for this performance but also aware that what I would hear, and subsequently describe, was not what precisely that which those in the Hall itself would experience.
The concert began with three songs by Beethoven. I was surprised by the way Imogen Cooper shaped the image which opens ‘Resignation’, sustaining the terse motif through the written rests. “Lisch aus, mein Licht!”, the poet-speaker pleads, and I hear the initial rocking fall as that metaphoric light being gently snuffed. Bostridge, who sang with a calm firmness indicative of inevitability and acceptance, shaped the imagery with pointedness, enrichening his tenor and dramatically rolling the ‘r’ of “irregehet” to depict the spluttering flame, then softening to a tender head voice as the flame dissolved. The different moods of Beethoven’s four settings of Goethe’s ‘Sehnsucht’ were finely drawn, the simplicity of the varying tempi and forms allowed to speak for themselves. In ‘Ich liebe dich’, Bostridge used the strength of his lower register to convey the poet-speaker’s self-certainty, quietly retreating to re-create a remembered moment of shared distress and tears.
In ‘Auf dem Hügel’, the opening song of An die ferne Geliebte, the protagonist seemed more ‘present’ on the hillside, above the distant meadows, than in Bostridge’s recording with Sir Antonio Pappano, less lost in his solipsistic imaginings, and this served to make the nuanced heightening of his avowal, “Singen will ich, Lieder singen,/ Die dir klagen meine Pein!”, (I shall sing, sing songs/ That speak to you of my distress!), all the more touching and vulnerable. I found Cooper’s accompaniment a little heavy at the start of ‘Wo die Berge so blau’ and then a trifle uncoloured when the voice recites on a monotone, but it’s difficult to know what the listeners in the Hall heard, and, flexibly shaping the changing tempi, the duo certainly captured the restlessness of the protagonist’s longings.
The piano’s racing triplets in ‘Leichte Segler in den Höhen’ were wonderfully crystalline though, sparkling like the glinting brook and as light as the airy vaults of heaven wherein the poet-speaker imagines his image will appear to his beloved. Bostridge varied his vocal colour to convey first hopefulness, then intensity of suffering and finally earnestness as he pleaded with the winds, sun and brook to reveal to the distant beloved his pain and his tears, which are never-ending - unlike the written repetition, “ohne Zahl”, which Bostridge did not sustain into the next song. The piano’s syncopated animation and tight trills conveyed the easeful delusion of the confidence that the protagonist draws from the natural world, in ‘Es kehret der Maien’, but Bostridge increasingly suffused the vocal line with energy and drama, pushing forwards to the honest admission, “Nu ich kann nicht ziehen von hinnen” (I alone cannot move on), which was enunciated with bitterness, and closed in frenetic despair. With ‘Nimm sie hin denn, diese Lieder’, the circle was closed and though there was a lethargic weight in the image of the fading sun’s rays, and vulnerability in the yearning, it was with a desperate urgency that the cycle closed, as if by sheer force of will music could reconnect two hearts.
If narrative and musical ‘continuity’ characterise An die ferne Geliebte, then Schumann’s Liederkreis Op.39, with its diverse poetic sources and personas, offers no such coherence - though that hasn’t stopped commentators from seeking and purporting to find in these twelve songs a consistent emotional trajectory, one that journeys from the despairing alienation of the ‘In der Fremde’ to the perceived fulfilment of ‘Frühlingsnacht’.
Bostridge and Cooper did not seem to seek to impose order and logic on Eichendorff’s phantasmagoric imagery and enigmatic twists, emphasising instead the hallucinatory, quasi-improvisational quality of Schumann’s settings which is conjured by harmonic ambiguities and introspective motivic echoes. That’s not to suggest that the sequence lacked shape or persuasiveness. Cooper’s controlled, pure accompaniments perfectly complemented Bostridge’s characteristically immersive and discerning engagement with Eichendorff’s strange worlds and disorientating time-shifts. His diction ever immaculate, as Bostridge lived the unidentified protagonists’ experiences he drew the listener with him into the moonlit forests and murmuring woods, with their lonely nightingales, silent castles, glittering stars, white and red roses, and mysterious enchantresses - the shuddering trees, dungeon cells and weeping brides casting a patina of menace and unease.
The freedom of the piano’s rolling, low arpeggios captured the inner unrest of the protagonist of ‘In der Fremde’ (In a foreign land) which is driven the paradoxical tension between his desire for and fear of eternal rest, “Wie bald, ach wie bald kommt die stille Zeit,/ Da ruhe ich auch” (How soon, ah! how soon till that quiet time/ When I too shall rest). This tension was enhanced by Bostridge’s darkening nuance, a slight shiver vivifying the repeated final image, “und keiner kennt mich mehr hier” (and nobody here remembers me anymore). The smoothly extending vocal phrases seemed to embody that glance into an unknowable future. If the sentiments of ‘Intermezzo’ seem more consoling, then the piano’s tugging syncopations seemed to threaten the image of the beloved held deep within the poet-speaker’s heart.
The inscrutability of the conversation with the wondrously fair bride riding her steed through the forest, in ‘Waldesgespräch’, was evoked by the dreamy gentleness of Bostridge’s delivery of the Lorelei’s grief, following the dark strength of the young man’s ebullient exclamations. The spitting anger which propelled her final warning and prophecy, “Es ist schon spät, es ist schon kalt,/ Kommst nimmermehr aus diesem Wald!” (It It is already late, already cold,/ You shall never leave this forest again!), was a reminder of the perils within the enchantress’s forest. Indeed, the slow restraint of the final section of ‘Die Stille’, which repeats the opening profession of happiness, seemed to belie the protagonist’s blissful self-belief.
‘Mondnacht’ (Moonlit Night) was beautifully expressive. Cooper’s celestial glimmer sparkled while the slow tempo again created an expansiveness suggesting the silver spread of the moonbeam over the earth. Bostridge used his head voice tenderly, to contrast the whispers of the forest with the strength and clarity of the stars in the night sky. In the piano postlude, Cooper gently resolved the open-ended vocal line, suggesting that the outspread soul might indeed have reached its imagined ‘home’, but the incessant rustling oscillations and Bostridge’s twisting distortion of the vocal rises in ‘Schöne Fremde’ (In a beautiful foreign land) seemed to deny the promise of rapture to come.
‘Auf einer Burg’ (In a castle) was a masterful union of poetry and voice. With deathly languor Bostridge introduced us to the ancient knight, driving with pained intensity towards the image of the centuries-old chevalier in his silent cell, enhancing Schumann’s rhetoric by turning the extended musical phrase into a piercing, slanting sneer, “oben in der stillen Klause.”, and thereby emphasising the temporal disorientation of the poem. Withdrawing to a shivering whisper to describe the forest birds’ lonely songs, the tenor then blanched his voice of tone and colour to depict with terrible irony the merry music of a wedding party on the sunlit Rhine, beside which the bride weeps. Bending forward, peering threateningly, Bostridge delivered the final line from the corner of his mouth, spitting out the final consonant with startling ferocity: “und die schone Braut, die weinet.”
The sparse urgency of ‘In der Fremde’ conveyed the poet-speaker’s bewilderment, as Bostridge twisted and squirmed across the Wigmore Hall platform, the song’s energy dissipating with the final recollection of the beloved’s death, “so lange tot” (so long ago), and collapsing into Cooper’s dark, exhausted chordal conclusion. The less dramatic delivery and sustained phrasing of ‘Wehmut’ (Sadness) aptly captured the ‘deep sorrow’ at the heart of the song, while ‘Zwielicht’ was beautifully lyrical, diminishing to a whispered but pointed image of the voices of distant hunters that ‘to and fro’ through the forest, “Stimmen hin und wieder wandern.” Bostridge employed a fraught, tense quasi-Sprechgesang for the final warning, “Hüte dich, sei wach und munter!” (Be wary, watchful, on your guard!). The softening of the final phrase of ‘Im Walde’ - “Und mich schauert’s im Herzensgrunde” (And deep in my heart I quiver with fear.) - drew the listener within the consuming blackness of the forest, and if the entire natural world - nightingales, moon and stars - seems to confirm the protagonist’s consoling conviction, “Sie ist Deine, sie ist Dein!”, then the pressing piano triplets seemed designed to shore up his self-belief rather than complement his joy. After all, the cycle closes with the young man alone, in darkness, in a ‘dreaming forest’.
In their encore, Bostridge and Cooper retreated from the unknown and infinite, returning to more mundane matters, with a vocally and pianistically visceral portrait of the suffering inflicted upon the lords and ladies of the court by the King’s debonair flea, in Beethoven’s setting of Goethe’s ‘Song of the Flea’. A different type of fantasy, but no less magical.
Claire Seymour
Ian Bostridge (tenor), Imogen Cooper (piano)
Beethoven - ‘Resignation’ WoO.149, ‘Sehnsucht’ WoO.134, ‘Ich liebe dich’ ( Zärtliche Liebe) WoO.123, An die ferne Geliebte Op.98; Schumann - Liederkreis Op.39
Streamed live from Wigmore Hall, London; Wednesday 30th September 2020.