Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau is dead

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau has died, ten days short of his 87th birthday. For me, it's like the death of a parent, for he played such a big role in my life. So I'm not going to write something trite to jump in on the bandwagon. That's insincere. As regular readers know, I don't write unless I can offer something personal or original. Someone like DFD deserves that kind of respect..

And yet, it's hard to find the words to express what he meant. He was a major part of my life since I was 14. Through him I discovered the whole German tradition, starting with song, branching out into orchestral music, literature, poetry, history and painting. Fifty years of adventure, starting with a tinny radio. Without DFD would I have become the person I am?

And more importantly, what did DFD mean to the world? Read the biography by Hans Neunzig (1998) which is the best we've got so far. The real significance of Fischer Dieskau would, I think, emerge all the greater without hagiography. He needs to be appreciated in the context of his times. He wasn't the "only" singer around, by any means, so that context needs to be remembered. But what he did that was special was to bring Lieder values to the fore. Had DFD spent his career in opera, he would not have been the phenomenom he was.  Above all else, he was a concert artist (and by that I include his Bach). On the concert platform, he embodied the Romantic Individual.

The painting by Caspar Friedrich David is such a cliché that we forget what it means. A wanderer is standing on a peak. He's had a struggle to get up there before trails and hiking boots, and he perches dangerously on a rock, looking out into the distance, made mysterious by clouds and fog. The man is a wanderer, who doesn't follow fixed routes or seek final destinations. "Ich komme vom Gebirge her, Es dampft das Tal, es braust das Meer, Ich wandle still, bin wenig froh, Und immer fragt der Seufzer, wo?"  Fischer-Dieskau embodied this Romantic spirit. It's an essentially high minded, intellectual aesthetic, and Fischer-Dieskau's elegant nobility fitted it well.

DFD was the son of an elderly Berlin schoolmaster, and thus a direct connection to the better values of 19th century Prussia - learning, discipline, hard work, idealism.  DFD came of age just after the war, when Europe was in turmoil. It's fashionable these days to attack Walter Legge and Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, but they had a vision of Lieder as hyper-refined art that served some kind of esoteric higher function. Fischer-Dieskau and Schwarzkopf became a formidable team. They pioneered uncompromising single composer recitals, selling out the Royal Festival Hall with all-Wolf programmes. Unthinkable now? Together, Fischer-Dieskau and Schwarzkopf promoted other repertoire relatively unknown outside German speaking circles. I discovered Mahler through their seminal Des Knaben Wunderhorn recording (1968). I'll defend that passionately because they sing with great enthusiasm. Fischer-Dieskau also sang in ensembles with most of the leading singers in his day - Brahms parts songs, for example, and of course his Bach series with Karl Richter and others (hear the clip HERE and recognize the voices in "Capella Bavariae". singing Schubert Der Gondelfahrer D809).

Furthermore, in the 1950's and 60's, recordings became mass market. With full length LPs it was at last possible to enjoy long attention span music at home, and to listen repeatedly, unlike live or on radio. Fischer-Dieskau embraced this technology like no-one else. He recorded nearly everything in the repertoire, and preserved as many performances as  feasible on tape. Perhaps they'll be issuing "new" DFD recordings for years to come. Indeed, one of DFD's sons, when asked what his Daddy did for a living, said "He makes LPs". Recordings have changed the way we listen because we're attuned to detailed, analytical listening, perfect for Lieder.

Fischer-Dieskau is a father figure, but you truly honour your father when you grow up properly.  DFD had mannerisms and faults - so what? Who doesn't?  Ultimately, I think Fischer-Dieskau's greatest achievement was to get us listening and thinking about song and appreciating its individuality in the deepest sense. We will truly honour Fischer-Dieskau by understanding song as a living tradition, which grows and proliferates through many interpreters and interpretations. That's DFD's true legacy : love of the art of song, not celebrity..

Janáček, Cunning Vixen and subversion

"How can animals talk?" My Dad asked my three year old brother. The kid thought seriously for a moment, then said with great solemnity. "Only when they wear clothes".  That's the perennial problem posed by Leoš Janáček's The Cunning Little Vixen, which starts the new Glyndebourne season this weekend. On a very superficial level, one might assume that the opera is a nature tale, since it's based on very shrewd observation of animal behaviour. We live in technologically cocooned urban times. Ninety years ago, Janáček and his contemporaries were a lot closer to the countryside and to nature. In any case, Janáček was inspired by a cartoon series in a newspaper.  So from the very start, The Cunning Little Vixen was allegory, not fairy tale. If you think it's cute and Disneyfied, the joke is on you! (photo : Peter Trimming)

For Janáček, The Cunning Little Vixen is satire. One of the most powerful themes in the opera is the way animals co-exist with humans, rather like a subculture on the margins of society.  A good metaphor. Foxes adapt. In Soho, for example, thousands of urban foxes dine on the discards of exotic restaurants, and retire to the Royal Parks for rest and recreation. Foxes can't be domesticated. Perhaps thee real clue to the meaning of The Cunning Little Vixen lies in Janáček's relationships with women which I've written about many times (like this Janáček's Dangerous Women). Women represent society and social mores. Janáček fell in love with 14 year old Zdenka Schulzová, a "vixen" so innocent and unworldy that he didn't connect her to what her family represented: solid middle class respectability, and Germanophile, (ie authority) for that matter. He was poor, Czech and an outsider, yet the family took him in and supported them, even when the composer wanted a divorce (extremely scandalous in those days). Yet Zdenka never ceased to love him, though he treated her and their daughter abominably (possibly hastening Olga's death).

Significantly, Janáček didn't leave Zdenka. There's evidence that he still slept with her late in life. And the fact that he pursued women who were not available to him speaks volumes. Was he more into pursuit than entrapment? Had Stösslová responded, would he have suddenly turned tail, all fervent protestations to the contrary? Philanderers often need an excuse not to commit, however flowery their passioins. So The Cunning LittleVixen affirms the values of non-domestication. Is "Vixen Sharp Ears" Zdenka as she might have been, and also Janáček's psychological rationale for not setting up home with Stösslová or anyone else? (he may have slept with others). From The Diary of One Who Disappeared, Janáček is fascinated by feral women. Notice that Terynka is a gypsy. Significantly both the song cycle and the opera were inspired by newspapers, for adults. Janáček anthromorphizes, and transposes dangerous feelings.

That's why The Cunning Little Vixen is so free and so joyous. Janáček is indulging his anarchic side, merrily sending up the stultifying convention he couldn't shake off in real life. Thus the music is exhilarating, full of energy and wit, It leaps and dances like a pack of playful young foxes who haven't yet learned fear. This opera was one of the composer's favourites because he could poke fun at the human world and its foibles. The Vixen mocks the conformist hens who sell their souls for comfortable living. Like many women, and men, too, for that matter. The Dog is miserable because he's unnaturally celibate - like the Priest and Schoolmaster. The Poacher gets married and the Gamekeeper returns to the forest. The opera ends, not in misery, but in glorious triumph. Just as the vixen lives on, so do the frogs, insects, trees and other organisms. Is the Gamekeeper really alone? Whether he dies or not, he's at last at one with the eternal cycle of growth and renewal. So he and the Vixen have the last laugh after all.

One of the reasons I'm so fond of the 1954 Komische Oper Berlin production (Das schlaue Füchslein) conducted by Vaclav Neumann and directed by Walter Felsenstein is because it was made just after the war, not long after the Soviet Occupation, and under Communism.  (watch clips here and here) That audience would have known all about surviving in harsh conditions, and also about the consequences of conforming to rigid authority. They were fooled by "realism". The original artiist and the composer didn't see it realistically, either. The animals look like human beings, dressed up in corny costumes, which is a telling comment on regimes of all kinds. It's kitsch, but howlingly funny because it's subversive, playing along with convention but sending it up. Like Janáček, that audience could let off steam without getting into trouble. Like crafty urban foxes, those Berliners meant to survive.

Please see my numerous other posts on Janáček (more Felsenstein links, photos etc) and related subjects. My work is original so please don't borrow my ideas without acknowledgement.

Dalibor Jenis Ford in Falstaff, ROH

Dalibor Jenis sings Ford in Verdi's Falstaff at the Royal  Operas House. Jenis comes from Bratislava, but his good looks are simmeringly Italianate. Pity that in Robert Carsen's production, he's costumed in "ludicrous Texan cowboy disguise". Says Richard Morrison in the Times, "that's doubly sad, because Jenis is the one performer who injects real emotion into this superficial show."

“Everything in opera comes from Italy”, Jenis told me three years ago. “Italian is the language of music, my second mother language”. We discussed Italian roles and the balance between singing and acting.

"I think acting is as important as singing. Years ago, you could have fat singers who didn’t move much on stage but had wonderful voices and everyone was happy. Now people expect more.” Jenis is interested in the way small details and movement can make a characterization stronger. “I search every role to find moments when I can express things better”. Sometimes it’s as simple as changing position subtly. “I don’t like to be like a machine, doing exactly the same thing every time”, he says. “In life, things change all the time”. This keeps performance fresh and natural. “Even when we’re not singing, there is a connection between singers, which an audience can feel very clearly”.

Good acting isn’t all obvious movement. When Jenis was very young, he watched a Carmen, where the singer was in her mid fifties. She sang the Habanera so effectively that she was utterly convincing without having to overact. “She was so strong, she didn’t have to move a lot or “be sexy”, she acted with her face and her voice. I said to myself, “This is Carmen”. Read the full interview HERE.

Havergal Brian Songbook - surprise delight!

What is the appeal of Havergal Brian? He draws extreme opinion. Friends of mine admired him greatly, so I listened with respect, always assuming that one day, a perfect performance would make Brian work for me as it did for them. Please read more here and do the exclusive Havergal Brian crossword !

Mark Stone and Sholto Kynoch have now made a superb recording of Havergal Brian's songs, first part of a series which will be the Complete Havergal Brian Songbook. At last, Havergal Brian works for me!

This could be a cult favourite, because it's very enjoyable indeed. I've played it over and over with pleasure. Stone's elegant, dignified poise and Kynoch's lyrical playing make the best possible case for Havergal Brian piano song. There are also short works for solo piano and piano and violin (Jonathan Stone). The booklet is informative, with the high quality presentation that Stone Records is noted for. Havergal Brian could not have dreamed of anything as stylish as this.

But remember Brian's Symphony no 1 (the "Gothic") at the Proms last year? At the Royal Albert Hall, it was a magnificent theatrical experience, conducted with finesse by Martyn Brabbins. I listened with awe to the performance and the sheer audacity of Brian's vision. (read more here). But as music, the Gothic is decidedly odd.  Brian's fifteen minutes of international fame very nearly killed his reputation. So why does Brian have such a devoted following? The Havergal Brian website (HERE) is a labour of altruistic love, so comprehensive that anyone could become an instant expert without actually hearing the work. Perhaps Brian is endearing because he goes where other composers fear to tread. Perhaps it's the Great British Eccentric tradition, which honours those who Try Very Hard.

When the works on this recording were made, the heavy hand of worthy Victorian earnestness still  haunted British song. Ralph Vaughan Williams was one of the brilliant exceptions, rather than the norm.  Don't listen to Brian and think in terms of RVW, Butterworth or Gurney, but rather to the social context of song in the period, which owes as much to parlour song and hymnal as to ersatz pastoralism.  Think Granville Bantock, Peter Warlock or C W Orr, whom Stone Records has honoured in a recent recordng. which Andrew Clements admired  I'm less convinced, perhaps from having toiled too long in the lesser recesses of English song. But we need to know those valleys, if only to appreciate the peaks. That's why Stone Records' traverse of English song is so important.

The songs of Havergal Brian appeal to me because they're so unself consciously self conscious.  Brian aims high, setting John Donne, Yeats and Shakespeare. The message (begun on Stoke Station) follows Donne's poem so literally it's almost parody, but a delight, nonetheless. Listen to the wind blow-o-o-ow in When icicles hang by the wall (Shakespeare)  Care-charmer sleep (to a poem by 16th century Samuel Daniel) set by Brian while insomniac combines "soporific rocking and discordant  dreams". When Brian sets lesser poets, like his landlord, Christopher Masterman Masterman (not a typo), his stolid approach reflects the poem only too well. The Soul of Steel is melodramatic, the piano part as strident as the vocal declamation.  Get the CD for this song alone. It's delicious, precisely because it's so stubbornly unsophisticated. The essence of Brian's charm.  Stone and Kynoch perform with utter conviction, which makes us respect Brian, all the more. He was an ordinary man who dreamed big. Some of these pieces are good enough to be part of a mixed recital. You could hear a lot worse than Havergal Brian.

Think of the Charles Kingsley (The Water Babies) poem The Lost Doll, included on this genuinely recommended disc.

"I once had a sweet little doll, dears, The prettiest doll in the world; Her cheeks were so red and white, dears, And her hair was so charmingly curled. But I lost my poor little doll, dears, As I played in the heath one day; And I cried for her more than a week, dears, But I never could find where she lay."

" I found my poor little doll, dears, As I played in the heath one day; Folks say she is horriibly changed, dears, For her paint is all washed away, And her arms trodden off by the cows, dears, And her hair not the least bit curled; Yet for old times sakes, she is still, dears, The prettiest doll in the world."

Simon Halsey raises the stakes

Simon Halsey becomes Choral Director of the London Symphony Orchestra and LSO choir from 1st August. This is significant news as Halsey's one of the most acclaimed chorus leaders in the business. He's been the chorus director of the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra for decades, working with Simon Rattle, when he was CBSO's chief conductor. When Rattle moved to Berlin, Halsey went with him (while retaining his place in Birmingham). Halsey remains with the Berlin Radio Choir, but plans to spend more time inn the UK, where he's taking up a post at the University of Birmingham. It's also significant news for the London choral scene as a whole, since Halsey's presence at the LSO could shake things up a bit, in a positive way. The LSO says, coyly, that he will "enable the London Symphony Orchestra to develop its choral activity, from the LSO Discovery Youth and Community Choirs at LSO St Luke's and the LSO's Singing Days, which offer the public the opportunity to join in choral activities related to the LSO's season repertoire."  Does this mean ambitious new ventures?  Certainly Halsey raises the stakes for all.

Jubilation - George Benjamin South Bank

"Jubilation", the title of a South Bank semi-retrospective on George Benjamin and the title of his 1985 work for large orchestra and massed chldren's ensembles. Jubilation opened the Sunday Night concert at the Royal Festival Hall. Almost certainly the young George Benjamin himself must have attended concerts here at some time. As the various school choirs and ensembles filed onto the platform, my heart leapt with joy that a new generation would be able to take part in a musical experience  like this. The audience was filled with family and friends, and some very young siblings indeed. So well behaved that they were a credit to enlightened parents. Even if the very little ones cried, that was fine. When children are brought up like this, they learn to listen, not only to music, but to themselves and to others.

Jubilation mixes "difficult" music with the freedom of music even those without much formal traing can join  Quite complex sections with unusual instrumentation blend with a recorder band and vocal ensembles, whose variety allows each a special voice, not submerged in the mass. The big minus was that Jubilation wasn't immediately followed up by Ringed by the Flat Horizon, a strikingly advanced work written when Benjamin was only 19. That should have stunned the students, some of whom were in their teens, too, and perhaps spur them on. The photo shows George Benjamin aged 16, Myung-whun Chung aged 23 and Olivier Messiaen. Would that these youngsters had such enlightened teachers! When teachers impose their own limitations, they destroy the creativity that proper teaching should inspire. Benjamin shows what can be done with an open mind. Hopefully, these youngsters will learn from him and from their enlightened parents.

Benjamin knows how to communicate. "You've heard Ligeti", he told the students. "It's the scariest music in 2001 Space Odyssey". Even if Kubrick was before their time, they got that new music doesn't have to be difficult to respond to emotionally.  "It's very slow, like it's underwater", he said, describing Ligeti's Lontano.  Instead of describing his Palimpsests (2002) in technical jargon, he explained what palimpsests are, so the idea of cross and counter layers in music is easier to visualize in a vividly non abstract way. This is one of Benjamin's "greatest hits". perfectly accessible even for those who don't normally listen to new music.

Benjamin also made Ligeti's Double Concerto for flute and oboe sound fascinating. "The bass flute is a monster!" (or words of that effect), so the work can be heard as drama, the different voices of the different flutes (Samuel Coles) conversing with oboe (Gordon Hunt) and the Philharmonia Orchestra.  A pity that the programme was planned so the gaps between pieces were inordinately long. Music like this weaves its magic when you're properly paying attention. When the gaps are filled with noise, movement and trivia, the spell is broken.

The previous evening, Nicholas Collon conducted the London Sinfonietta in the Queen Elizabeth Hall in a much more focussed programme that highlighted Benjamins's more chamber oriented music. Flight (1979) for solo flute, (Michael Cox) inspired by the sight of birds soaring afloat, and Antara (1987) where panpipe sounds are expanded and developed by computer ((Benjamin's stay at IRCAM). These blend with flutes played in  vibrato-free "medieval" style, then growing in sophistication. "Deep, growling trombones" and metallic perecussion "invoke the real power of computerized keyboards- huge sustained microtonal chords , sweeping glissandi, ....all derived from the original pan-pipes" says Benjamin in his articulate programme notes. "At the largest climax the orchestral anvils in a myriad of metallic sound ...towards a coruscating but tranquil conclusion".

From panpipes to Ligeti's Horn Concerto where the soloist (Michael Thompson) is supported by a team of other horns (rather like a South American pipe ensemble), and then to Benjamin's Duet for Piano and Orchestra (2008), soloist Tamara Stephanovich, closely associated with the dedicatee Pierre-Laurent Aimard., who played it at the Proms in 2010. It's s a different kind of concertante, where soloist and orchestra don’t interact in the usual way, but observe each other, so to speak. Then, with a punchy crescendo, it’s over. Benjamin’s music often sounds pointilliste, like detailed embroidery, but here there’s sharpness in design, and clarity of direction. Listening this time, I realized how muscular Benjamin's music can be.  One oif the highlights oif next year's Royal Opera House season will be Benjamin's first big opera (100 minutes, full orchestra) Written on the Skin. I adore his Into the Little Hill (see more HERE) but have been worrying if Benjamin, a notoriously fussy writer, could produce for the big house.  Hearing the inherent drama in his Duet for Piano and Orchestra, I'm pretty confident Written on the Skin will be good.

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Odd that Gillian Moore didn't mention the Queen's Jubilee in her opening speech, particularly as the South Bank is so closely identified with the optimism that marked the Festival of Britain and the Queen's coronation.  What a very different place this country is now. The Thames still flows past the South Bank, but was used recently for full scale military manouevres to "protect" the Olympics. Fortunately Moore was wise enough not to make too much of the Cultural Olympiad business, which claims credit for many things which would have happened anyway, even the Proms.

Why I defend Bianca Jagger

Yes, I will defend Bianca Jagger taking photos during Einstein on the Beach. Because it was Einstein on the Beach. Indeed, I'd say she got a lot more from the piece than the snotty critics around her did, some who clearly did not know the piece. Most reviews completely missed the point of the piece, which redefined all the usual parameters of opera. Glass and Wilson were experimenting with a new genre before most anyone else. Miss that, and miss the whole point of the exercise.

Indeed, sitting up in the balcony, I could see many flashes iin different parts of the building and thought they were a kind of performance art, a perfectly valid extension of the idea of Einstein as celebrity admired by millions who haven't a clue what he really did. So a celebrity like Bianca Jagger has every right to "participate".

Besides, Bianca J was enjoying herself and engaging with the piece, which is more than can be said of some of the superficial writers who went because it was free, without a clue about composer or concept. Interesting that those most opposed to Bianca are those who know least about the work itself. Bianca's real. So, too, Rupert Christiansen who loathed it. (They should have sent Ivan Hewett who has a better handle on Glass).  Both had genuine responses, far more sincere than those who just follow received opinion and pretend. It's not what you think that counts, but why. My response is HERE, written without programme notes but with general background.

In any case, Einstein on the Beach is conceptual. It's stream of consciousness, like a dream with images that aren't processed. Philip Glass's music is like modern society, where we're bombarded with technology and processes out of our control. That's why the onus is on the observer - a participant - to decide when to come or go, when to doze, etc. You don't "need" to take in every note or word. Or non-word.  Hence the repetitions and irrelevancies. As in the real world, you don't learn til you filter. So Hooray for Bianca, reacting like a human being, and taking souvenirs to preserve the moment.  [Now it emerges that she is a close friend of Glass and Wilson, who have supported her actions. If the composer and director are happy, why should critics who don't know the piece or the ideas behind it object? Or perhaps it's too much for big egos to accept that a woman might know more about than they do?]


But not all music is Einstein on the Beach. Tonight, I was at a George Benjamin concert where the music is so refined that every microtone counts.  A friend mentioned someone texting throughout, which was distracting. So he asked the person to stop, but other people turned on him instead. What's the point of going to music and not listen? And if you don't care, why spoil things for others? This boorishness is getting too common. Not long ago, at the Royal Opera House, a man started sneering loudly even as the Overture began. He'd come to get his kicks from being nasty: no interest in the opera itself. More money than sense. What kind of person needs to prove something by wrecking things for others? As my friend discovered at George Benjamin, if you stand up to boors they may call you a snob or worse, just because you dare care about what you listen to.

Is it "elitist" to listen these days? Two years ago, Alex Ross decreed that audiences should applaud when they wanted. But the whole point of going to performance is listening. Pay attention and respect that others around you might want to be paying attention too. It's as simple as that. Part of the problem is that concert going is perceived as consumer product, not as a form of enlightenment.  Buying a ticket does not "buy" an artistic experience. It's only when you engage with what you're hearing that you get full value. For most people these days, it's enough that they can tweet their pals or whatever, and prove something without having to actually particpate emotionally. Bianca Jagger's wrong to disrupt others, but her heart is in the right place. And she doesn't disrupt George Benjamin.

photo: Andreas Schipers

NEW Proms booking plan - tips to get what you want

Booking starts tomorrow for the 2012 BBC Proms. The secret to getting what you want is to have a list beforehand. This year there's a new "Proms Plan" you can do in advance so the minute sales start at 9 am you're ready to go. Instructions here. Hopefuly it will speed things up as you won't have to key choices in one by one. Some things sell fast (though closer to date more seats get released). Others don't, so you can wait and get the seat of your choice. Refunds are tricky, so don't overbook. Lots of deals, like all-season Proms passes that get you into nearly everything standing room, and new Weekend passes for those who can't commit to the full season. There's a 2% booking fee, but it's capped at £10 per booking. So if you're buying 10 or more Proms at once, which many do, you're still be paying £10. Given the scale of the  enterprise it's niggardly to quibble. This is the Biggest Music Festival In The World, funded by taxpayers. (Photo Panos Asproulis - it's very well shot!)

The obvious big sellers will be the Barenboim Beethoven symphonies with the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra. Note, security for these will be extreme since protestors disrupted the IPO Prom last year. Totally counterproductive, but boosted circulation in some parts of the media. Since these Proms coincide with the Olympics, there'll be traffic mayhem as well. Isn't it ironic that the "Cultural Olympiade" claims credit for every big cultural event this summer, from the Proms to Les Troyens and much else. As if these events wouldn't have happened anyway? But the gullible will believe.

Top of my list will be Debussy Pelléas et Mélisande on  Sunday 15th. I might do Handel Judas Maccabeus  but book later on.  Since I'm going to the ROH Berlioz Les Troyens anyway, I might go to the Proms version to see how it translates to semi-staging. Definitely 26/7 late night Boulez! And Schoenberg Gurrelieder on August 12, even though it coincides with the last night of the Olympics. Not a good time to be in London.

I'm also booking early for Rattle and the Berliner Philharmoniker's second concert (Lutoslawski) but might book for the first concert (Ligeti et al). Definitely both Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra concerts with Chailly. No way am I missing either the Mendelssohn concert or Messiaen/Mahler (probably the best choice for Mahler this year). That's the gist of my first-round bookings. Usually I do a second round of bookings in the next few weeks, and a third round too. Extra booking fee, but so what? Almost certainly Elgar The Apostles, The Glyndebourne Marriage of Figaro, the London Sinfonietta Prom, and Knussen. New music Proms can usually be picked up late though there might be a rush for the John Cage Celebration, likely to be an "experience".

And of course, every Prom is broadcast online and internationally, and lots on TV. One thing for certain, The Olympics has dampened my enthusiasm, so I'm going to a lot less than usual, but won't miss out. Please read my summaries of the BBC Proms 2012 schedule for July HERE and for August-September HERE.
Got in 915, completed 1044, got all we wanted. Obviously you can do other things while you wait. Last year completed 1020. Not a good idea to login before start time as back to the end of queue, so best to wait a little longer. As it happened, I miscalculated on booking fee and ended up paying over £10. OTOH, when you can get a standard £1.75 fee on transactions as little as £12 elsewhere,  I did OK. Given that there are 80+ Proms and thousands logging in at the same time, it's a miracle the system works at all.

Divine Véronique Gens Wigmore Hall

Véronique Gens's recital  at the Wigmore Hall was an almost ideal distillation of of the belle époque.in song. Over the years we've heard many specialists in French song at the Wigmore Hall, but Gens perhaps outshines them all.  With her background in baroque, lucid purity comes naturally, but she sings with exceptional intelligence. It's hard to explain why she's so distinctive, but her final encore (of three) might suggest an answer. Roses, jasmine and orange blossom infuse Gabriel Fauré's Les roses d'Ispahan. The vocal line moves gently like the breeze in the text. Yet the song is not about flowers but lost love. It's all the more poignant because it's so subtle. Gens doesn't dramatize, but lets the perfumed elegance convey depth of emotion. 

Last December, Gens created an esoteric selection of relatively little known  songs by Massenet, Gounod and Reynaldo Hahn. Read about it here. Now she chose a more familiar programme: Fauré, Chausson, Debussy, Duparc and more Hahn.  Fauré's Au bord de L'eau (op8/1 1875)  and Après un rêve (op7/1 1877) were poised, but Gens created even greater interest with Lydia (op 4/2 1870) to a poem by Leconte de Lisle. "Je t'aime et meurs, ô mes amours. Mon âme en baisers m'est ravie!" Love and death so intertwined that we can't be sure that Lydia is alive at all.

Henri Duparc's L'invitation du voyage (1870)  is so famous that it's true meaning can be missed.The poet is Baudelaire, after all.  The piano part (Susan Manoff) is limpid and delicate. These rippling waters might suggest Schubert, but the idiom is entirely different. No "gothic" histrionics here. The passion is cool but sinister. Similarly, Duparc's Romance de Mignon (1869) is decidedly un-German though it's based on Goethe's Mignon song Kennst du das Land.? The drama's more muted, though the feelings are just as deep. These days it's fashionable to disregard idiom but for me that's bad taste. What's the point of performing different composers in the same way? Musically-informed is much more literate. Gens and Manoff show how Duparc's Mignon springs from a different aesthetic. Gens followed with Debussy's Fleur des Blés (1881) and Nuit d'etoiles (1880) which are almost her signature tunes. Her recording of Debussy, Fauré and Poulenc with Roger Vignoles (2000) is very good indeed. 

Normally I don't describe what a singer wears, but Gens returned after the interval in a remarkable dress slit up to her midriff, but discreetly held together with tulle. Strikingly elegant, raising gasps of admiration from the audience. She seemed inspired, her performance in the second part of the programme quite divine. Like the hummingbird in Ernest Chausson's Le colibri (op2/7 1882) Gens glistened "comme un frais rayon s'échappé dans l'air". Her Les papillions (op 2/3 1880) hinted at erotic secrets in a refined manner. The sorrow in Les temps de lilas (op 19 1886) was expressed with elegant dignity. Gens and Manoff concluded with seven songs by Reynaldo Hahn. Hahn imbibes from exotic sources, so idiosyncrasic and so over the top. In three songs from Études latines (1900) Lydé, Tyndaris, Pholoé), he gets carried away with Leconte de Lisle's elaborate fanstasies of fake Antiquity. Gens and Manoff catch Hahn's effusive high spirits.  These put the famous A Chloris (1916) into context. Hahn's hamming up again, this time with Bach. Beautiful as the song is, it's mischief in music. Appropriately, Gens and Manoff concluded this evening of songs ostensibly about flowers and birds with Hahn's Le printemps (1899). Hahn's ebullient, exuberant and exhilirating - banished are the "flowers of evil". "Te voilà, rire du Printemps!", sang Gens, with a glorious flourish.

Szymanowski Third Bartók Eötvös Barbican

Karol Szymanowski's magnificent Song of the Night (Symphony no 3) received a splendid performance at the Barbican Hall, London, with Peter Eötvös conducting the London Symphony Orchestra. 

In February, we heard Vladimir Jurowski conduct Szymanowski's Third with the LPO at the South Bank: gorgeous, shimmering textures, so perfumed one could swoon. It was a pertfectly valid reading and beautiful.  Boulez, however, intuits the savagery beneath the shining surface, and .Eötvös replacing him due to illness, respects this approach. The Song of the Night can only emerge under cover of darkness, when the worldly market place is hushed and "the market of the stars" is revealed. "This night, Leo, and Orion, Andromeda and Mercury shine crimson!"  The 13th century mystic Jalaal'ad-Din Rumi writes about a love so deep that it's cosmic, yet only revealed in secret. Persians knew their astronomy and astrology. "This night, Saturn casts  his malign control and Venus sails in the golden drizzle". The stars are exquisite, but they control fate and cannot be reached by mortal men.Whoever these lovers are, they're not fated to be together except in dreams.

As if shielding the poet in a night garden, Szymanowski uses a huge orchestra to create a lush, exotic atmosphere. Yet note how Szymanowski immediately establishes two separate currents: the dense "undergrowth" in low winds and strings, and high stings screaming alarm. "O nie spij, druhu, nocy tej" (O, sleep not, dearest friend this night") sings the tenor, Steve Davislim. The chorus repeats the dense textures this time, but through by the extreme high tessitura of the violin (Gordan Nikolitch).  Patterns within patterns. Szymanowski's writing Persian art into his music. Throughout this symphony, violin and singer seem to duet, separated by the vast crescendi in the orchestra and choir. A shy lilting dance led by winds, then Nikolitch soaring forth. Pizzicato, sudden irruptions of brass, even a kind of wayward march: a sense of alert anticipation. This night is not restful. The long middle section is full of incident, but then, silence, out of whch Davislim sings, with minimal accompaniment. "This night God and I are alone!". Cymbals unleash crescendi: we are hearing what the poet sees in the universe. The solo violin re-emerges, almost impossibly high pitched and pure. Boulez manages to hint at perverse Baudelairean undercurrents. Eötvös and the LSO aren't quite so unsettling, but Davislim sings so idiomatically that he'd be a top choice as the Shepherd in Król Roger. The parts are linked, for the Shepherd represents danger as well as liberation. Zamilknięciem wiąże język Lecz ja mówię bez języka nocy tej! (surrounding silence ties my tongue but I speak without my tongue tonight) .

The programme was big and Eötvös conducted Bartók's Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta with more vigour. The first movement was a little too diffuse, though Eötvös delineated the separate subgroups  in the Allegro and Adagio cleanly. Nicolaj Znaider was the soloist in Bartók's Violin Concerto no 2. Almost any companion piece to Szymanowski's Symphony no 3 will pale in comparison, especially since the violin part there is so strange and disturbing. But Boulez chose the programme well, for the concerto is provocative in its own way. The solo part taunts and twists away from the orchestra as elusively as the part  in Szymanowski's symphony. Znaider played with grace and assurance, exploding passionately in the wild cadenza. Utterly apposite to the deeper meaning of the symphony. 

This concert is available online on BBC Radio 3. Listen for Znaider and Davislim, who has exceptional stage presence. Get the recording of Szymanowski's Third on DG with the Weiner Philharmoniker conducted by Pierre Boulez for a more intense performance.  Later this year Valery Gergiev will be conducting all four Szymanowski symphonies, combined with Brahms, not the first composer that springs to mind in this connection. All the more reason to hear what Gergiev does with Szymanowski.