Semyon Bychkov : Detlev Glanert Requiem for Hieronymus Bosch

At the Barbican, London, Semyon Bychkov conducted Detlev Glanert's Requiem for Hieronymus Bosch, commissioned for the 500th anniversary of the painter's birth,  and premiered in Sint Janskathedraal, 's-Hertogenbosch, in April 2016.  It was a huge public occasion, celebrating the rich heritage of the region. Bosch lived most of his life in 's-Hertogenbosch, which was part of the Duchy of Brabant, with a thriving economy that supported artists as well as merchants. Over the centuries, the area was a target for larger empires - the Dukes of Burgundy, then the Hapsburgs.  Bychkov's programme acknowledges the Flemish background, featuring choral works by Johannes Ockeghem (1410-25? to 1494), Thomas Crecquillon (1505 -1557) and Pierre de la Rue (1452-1518) with Andrew Griffiths conducting the BBC Singers.

Detlev Glanert's Requiem for Hieronymus Bosch might be new to London but it was a huge hit, when the first recording was released in June 2017 with Markus Stenz conducting the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, which I reviewed at the time. Glanert's by no means unknown. He's been a Proms favourite for years. Please read my review of the Proms performance in 2019 HERE, with Bychkov conducting the BBC SO. Detlev Glanert was one of Hans Werner Henze's few students. Like Henze, Glanert's very prolific - 11 operas, including Caligula which has been staged at the ENO, but sadly misunderstood,  (see more here and my review of the Frankfurt production Frankfurt here). Glanert and Bychkov have known each other from the days when Bychkov conducted WDR Köln, so it would be interesting to hear how he approaches the piece. 

Glanert's Requiem for Hieronymus Bosch has all the elements for instant popular success.  It helps that the paintings are so much part of popular culture that everyone recognizes his images of extreme excess.  Bosch's people wear medieval dress, but their actions depict the subconscious, the Id and existential guilt in operation, centuries before the concepts of psychology found expression in formal language. Like Carl Orff's  Carmina Burana, Glanert's Requiem is highly dramatic music theatre, adapting the cataclysmic dreamscapes of Bosch's paintings into music of extremes as lurid as Bosch's images.  This Requiem unfolds in 18 episodes, rather like panels in a medieval triptych. This gives the piece structure, making it easy to follow. The teeming, sprawling  panoramas Bosch depicts could plausibly be depicted in sound, but that would probably be asking too much of most audiences. Like Bosch, though, Glanert's piece replicates extremes. Literally heaven and hell, for the premise is the judgement Bosch faces after death. 

Thus the standard elements of a Requiem Mass are interleaved with the Seven Deadly Sins. The acrid flames of hellfire whipping against the smoke of incense. A harsh Voice (David Wilson-Johnson, narrating) calls from above "Hieronymus Bosch!" Immediately we spring to attention.  Bells ring. Throbbing, rushing figures in the choral line, suggesting the doomed hordes we see in Bosch's paintings. The orchestral lines veer wildly, lit by screaming brass, the chorus screaming to crescendo.   Suddenly the forces fragment and, from the silence, a slow, low penitential intonation.  An abstract Requiem Aeternam, the choral line flowing ambiguously, in almost microtonal haze. like smoke.  In Gluttony the bass (the aptly named Christof Fischesser) sings of food, his lines circular and rotund. The text may be in Latin, but the meaning is clear.  The choir responds with the long, thin lines of an Absolve Domine. reinforced by Wrath with tenor (Gerhard Siegel)  and a Dies Irae which ends with a vivid orchestral flourish. Another demon, Envy, fights back. Soprano Aga Mikolaj's fluid, curving lines mimic the lines in the "heavenly" chorus - imitation is a sign of envy! But the serene  Juste judex prevails. 

But where are we? The organ solo (Leo van Doeselaar) lets rip with a frenzy that suggests a cathedral organ hijacked by Satan.  Despite the extremes of volume and tempi, the lines between heaven and hell are, tellingly, blurred. In Sloth, the soprano sings langorously, joined in sensuous duet by the mezzo (Ursula Hesse von den Steinen). Pride, Lust and Avarice appear, but the balance shifts towards the big guns : Full choir, offstage choir, and orchestra in increasingly full throttle : listen for the jazzy culmination of the Domine Jesu Christe. and the funky trumpet that heralds the Agnus Dei. With the Libera Me and Peccatum, we are in Carmina Burana territory, bursting forth in a blaze, the earthly chorus in raucuous flow, augmented by brass and percussion and the offstage chorus singing of lux perpetua.  Big forces. But is might right ? Glanert's Requiem ends In Paradisium, here the Voice from Above recites lines from the Book of Revelation. Apocalyptic visions, marking the end of the world and of time.  Now, when the Voice screams "Hieronymus!", he doesn't add a demonic epithet. With an unearthly low hum, the choir sings of the chorus angelorum that brings eternal rest.

Glanert's Requiem for Hieronymus Bosch is a public piece rather than a work of inward  contemplation. Nonetheless, as with so much that Glanert writes, subversive humour lurks within. In this Bosch Requiem, Glanert again and again mixes grotesque with irony. Just as the vastness of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana appealed to Nazi taste, the vastness of  this Requiem veers on parody.  Will it be loved for its vulgarity or its irony? Just as the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch reveal the viewer, Glanert's Requiem reveals the listener.  In this case, I think it's the wamth of Glanert's vision, and his compassion for the quirkier aspects of human life, which Hieronymus Bosch himself  had no qualms about depicting.  In the 2 1/2 years since I first heard the piece, it's grown on me, a lot.

Semyon Bychkov : Czech Philharmonic Orchestra international tour, London

Is the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra entering a new era ?  In London at the start of a new international tour,  Semyon Bychkov, new Chief Conductor, led the Czech Philharmonic in a concert featuring Smetana and Dvořák, with Alisa Weilerstein. This concert was very high profile indeed, attended by the great and the good, as if it were a state occasion, markingb the 100th anniversary of Independence. And indeed it was, since the Czech Philharmonic is unique, with a distinctive persona.  Part of the reason it is so unusual is because its traditions are rooted in Czech culture, from which Czech music has grown, as if language translates into music. The orchestra doesn't frequently tour : if you want to hear them other than on recordings or broadcast, you need to go to the Rudolfinium,  and absorb the whole context.  This, of course, isn't always practical,  and in a digital age, any orchestra's potential audience is world-wide.  So it's logical that the Czech Philharmonic should be reaching out.  Before Bychkov was appointed last year, the announcement stated that the choice would depend on "publiku, nahrávacím společnostem, zahraničním pořadatelům i k ministerstvu kultury".ie the public, recording companies, foreign organizations and The Ministry of Culture. Perfectly valid, since Czech culture and music is a vital part of world heritage.  The question is how this will affect the orchestra's core values and artistic soul. Whatever model the Czech Philharmonic adopts for its outreach should, accordingly, be individual, rather than borrowing from what might work for other orchestras. What we love about the Czech Philharmonic is the very fact that it is not polished or celebrity-focussed. The market should rise to its standards, not the other way around.

Britain embraced Czech music very early on. In 1884, Dvořák himself conducted his Stabat Mater and Symphony no 6 at the Three Choirs Festival. Janáček visited London in 1926, and re-dedicated his Sinfonietta in honour of Rosa Newmarch.  Only ten years later Vítězslava Kaprálová, aged only 22, was invited to London to conduct her own Military Sinfonietta with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, a work which pays direct homage to Janáček, at a time when Czechoslovakia was being threatened by the Nazi regime. The bonds between Czechslovakia and British culture grow deep.  So it was a surprise that the start of this tour should take place in the Duke's Hall at the Royal Academy of Music, with a capacity of only 350, rather than, say, the Royal Festival Hall which seats 3000.  In the US, the Czech Phil is playing Carnegie Hall.  Nonetheless it was an opportunity for students of the RAM to join the Czech Phil on stage and play together : symbolic and educational value, reflecting Bychkov's position as Professor of Conducting, which he takes so seriously that he's conducted the RAM orchestra at the RFH. Thus a suitably festive Overture to Bedřich Smetana's Bartered Bride joyously free.
Bychkov began the Czech Philharmonic's 2018-2019 season in Prague with Antonín Dvořák's Symphony no 7 in D minor op 70, paired with Luciano Berio's Sinfonia but for the start of this tour, complemented it with Dvořák's Cello Concerto in B minor, Op 104 with soloist Alisa Weilerstein, who shot to fame when Daniel Barenboim chose her when he returned to Elgar's Cello Concerto, so closely connected to Jacqueline du Pré.  She's more mature now, and brings that greater refinement to Dvořák : well shaped legato, at turns sensuous and demure, well integrated with the orchestra around her.  The orchestra, though, stole the show, playing with the distinctive timbre that is their trademark : horns that call and breathe without being brassy,  strings that swell and vibrate with genuine emotion, winds that sing as freshly as forces of Nature.  The Adagio seemed to glow, the restraint of the cello enriched by the fullness in the orchestra, but the Finale impressed because it was so thoughtfully shaped.  

A rewarding Dvořák Symphony no 7 in D minor op 70. Again, the characteristic richness and depth of the Czech Philharmoniuc came to the fore : the idiom is in their DNA so to speak. Thoughg this is sometimes called the "London" symphony its impulses are altogether more personal. Interpretation grows through an understanding of the composer and his work as a whole.  Thus the Allegro maestoso unfolded purposefully, its stately progress defined with assurance. Dark as this symphony may be, it's clear-sighted, the destination never in doubt.  A heartfelt coda.  The Hussite hymn theme echoed in the second movement was subtle. It doesn't need over-statement, but it informs the Scherzo that follows the lyrical moments between.  The motif that resembles dance wasn't frivolous, but an acknowledgement of the rondo-like tightness with which the symphony as a whole is constructed.    A very strong Finale, arrived at through an understanding of the structural logic.

What Semyon Bychkov will bring to the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra

The news that Semyon Bychkov has been named new Chief Conductor of the Czech Philharmonic has gone round the world, but what does the news portend ?  Jiří Bělohlávek's contract had been renewed to 2020. Though he had been ill for some time his sudden death was unexpected.  The Chief Conductor position is a figurehead who defines an orchestra's profile and artistic direction.

Conductor Chess is not a beauty contest but hard business sense.  In June, the  Prague press was abuzz with speculation. The orchestra's management were quoted as saying the choice would depend on "publiku, nahrávacím společnostem, zahraničním pořadatelům i k ministerstvu kultury".ie the public, recording companies, foreign organizations and The Ministry of Culture.

Among the contenders mentioned were Christoph Eschenbach, John Eliot Gardiner, Fabio Luisi, Kent Nagano, and Jaap van Zweden.  So they wanted big names.   Bychkov's a big name,  but his  advantage was that Decca recentoy recorded the firsts two discs of his Tchaikovsky Project with the Czech Philharmonic in Prague.  Bychkov's recorded with  the Vienna Phil, the Berliner Phil, the Concertgebouw Amsterdam  and otthers, and he's been doing Tchaikovsky nearly all his working life, so the Czech Phil are on to a winner.   Bychkov also conducted Tchaikovsky's Francesca da Rimini, which marked the opening of Smetana's Litomyšl Festival 2017,  Presumably Francesca's next on nthe recording schedule as it was part of Bychkov's  "Beloved Friends" Tchaikovsky Project tour around Europe. (Please read my piece about the Barbican concerts here)

"As is evidenced by everything that he undertakes", the orchestra's announcement states, "Bychkov's commitment to the Czech Philharmonic will be total. In addition to conducting the opening concerts of the season, six subscription weeks and two weeks of studio recordings, he will lead the Orchestra on tour, and at the major Czech festivals and concerts that are an important and integral part of the Orchestra's presence including Prague Spring, Dvořák's Prague and Smetana's Litomyšl."

Bychkov himself has said "The Czech Philharmonic is among the very few orchestras that have managed to preserve a unique identity. In a music world that is increasingly globalized and uniform, the Orchestra's noble tradition has retained authenticity of expression and sound, making it one of the world's artistic treasures. When the orchestra and Czech government asked me to succeed beloved Jiří Bělohlávek, I felt deeply honoured by the trust they were ready to place in me. There is no greater privilege for an artist than to become part of and lead an institution that shares the same values, the same commitment and the same devotion to the art of music."

So what of he orchestra's unique  heritage? One of Bělohlávek's great achievements was to remind the world that the Czech idiom has a distinctive flavour, deriving from the languages of the region.  Interpretation, too, is enhanced by knowing the history and culture.  Of course that doesn't mean you need to be Czech, but it's a good foundation.  Unusually, nearly all the musicians in the orchestra are native speakers, and they also serve the National Theatre, the nation's premiere opera house.  
Together with the news about Bychkov was the announcement of two Principal Guest Conductors, Jakub Hrůša and Tomáš Netopil.   Hrůša is exceptional, with such distinctive flair that he's destined to go a long way.  His Time Will Come !  He's outstanding because he brings intelligent insight into what he does.  Please read here about his programme based on the role of the Hussite Hymn in Bohemian history and music.   In London, we are fortunate that Hrůša is now Principal Guest with the Philharmonia Orchestra.  He's also Chief  of the  Bamberg Symphony Orchestra, with its great pedigree.  The Czech Philharmonic has a new Concertmaster, too, in  Josef Špaček, the youngest concertmaster in  the orchestra's history.

Semyon Bychkov Tchaikovsky Manfred, Taneyev Rachmaninov

In Prom 63, Semyon Bychkov  conducted Kiril Gerstein and the BBC Symphony  Orchestra in Taneyev, Rachmaninov and Tchaikovsky in an almost identical programme to the concert they did at the Barbican last October in their Tchaikovsky Project Series.  But Bychkov, Gerstein and the BBC SO are always worth hearing. It was also interesting to listen to Bychkov's Manfred Symphony op 58 again, in the space of a week, since Riccardo Chailly conducted the same symphony at the opening gala of the Lucerne Festival, paired with Mendelssohn's A Midsummers Night's Dream.

Two different perspectives, two different approaches but both valid and both worthwhile.  Chailly and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra were astonishingly good: the magical transparency of Mendelssohn enhancing the High Romantic supernatural nature of Tchaikovsky's Manfred.  A truly illuminating, inspired  performance! Much as I  love the BBC SO, the Lucerne Festival Orchestra are altogether in a more spectacular league, the musicians hand picked from the finest orchestras in Europe, playing together for love. Always a special occasion; no comparisons really possible. Chailly's Prom  last week with the La Scala Philharmonic came nowhere near, partly because the programme (Brahms and Respighi) was less inspired.  So track down  Chailly's  Lucerne Mendelssohn and Manfred, which was filmed live for broadcast.  No disrespect to Bychkov, but Lucerne was exceptional. 

Bychkov framed Tchaikovsky's Manfred Symphony op 58 with Sergei Taneyev's Oresteia op 6 (1889) placing the focus on Taneyev's connections to Tchaikovsky.  In a way, this diminishes Taneyev, for Oresteia isn't very Tchaikovskian.   It's a tone poem based on Greek mythology which surprisingly doesn't figure much in Russian repertoire, at least from the assumptions we now have about the style. A lovely violin melody weaves through the piece, connecting fast-flowing passages that suggest, perhaps the Furies, wild climaxes contrasted with a serene section , harps decorating strings.  Bychkov's reasons for pairing this with Manfred are much stronger.  Orestes is a doomed hero, who kills his mother urged by his sister, and is himself killed by a snake. 

Thus the cosmic struggle in Manfred, which Byron set in the high Alps. In Byron's time, the Alps symbolized danger, the vastness of nature dwarfing humankind. Schumann's Manfred is Romantic in the true, wild Germanic sense. Tchaikovsky, however. was even more a man of the theatre, so Bychkov's approach emphasized the panoramic, scenic aspects of the piece.   He created the backdrop to the drama vividly: generous, sweeping lines suggesting limitless horizons.   As the tempo quickened, the orchestra soared upward: searching lines contrasting well with the sudden crashing climax with which the first movement ends. 

Perhaps this is the moment when Manfred meets his mysterious half sister Astarte. What is the nature of their relationship (bearing in mind Byron's unnatural relationship with his own half sister)? And, why the mountains?  The second movement, marked vivace con spirito, describes a mountain spirit, one of the elementals who haunt Alpine lore. They are fairies, but also signify danger, their elusiveness defying human control.  Thus the high violin melody that flies above, and away, from the main orchestral foundation.

The third movement describes the mountain folk, who carve out marginal lives in harsh conditions, yet seem happy as they dance, presumably in pure, open air festivals. They're tough folk and down to earth, while Manfred, though a hero, is rather more quixotic. Like Byron himself, maybe, a towering figure but one with dark complexes and possibly a death wish.  Tolling bells suggest danger. The music descends into a stranger mood, sounds crashing against each other as if the earth itself was imploding,"fire" pouring forth from the rapid rivulets of sound.  Manfred fights off the evil spirits who tempt him, but chooses to die on his own terms. What might Tchaikovsky have made of this? The finale was grand, the pace brisk, craggy peaks and descents sharply defined, dizzying figures suggesting turbulence. Not mountain breezes, but perhaps something more demonic.  The organ underlined the cosmological nature of Manfred's predicament.  Although the drama dissipates at the end of the symphony, textures are more refined, more esoteric, one feels that perhaps Manfred is entering a new frontier, beyond the ken of mankind. Hence details, like the horn calling the hero on, and the dizzying upwards rush towards a serene conclusion that might suggest spiritual sublimation. Chailly was better at evoking the demonic supernatural levels in the piece lurking behind the scenery, but Bychkov's account was heady stuff.

In between Taneyev and Manfred, Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto no 1 with Kiril Gerstein, a moment of relative sanity between the two doomed heroes at either end of this Prom. 

Khovanshchina Bychkov Mussorgsky Prom

Outstanding Modest Mussorgsky Khovanshchina with Semyon Bychkov at the Proms . Outstanding because Bychkov is brilliant, translating the music itself into drama.  For my review of Prom 63 Bychkov Taneyev Tchaikovsky Manfred please click here).  Khovanshchina isn't really opera. The libretto is confusing : you need to know what's "not" there to understand what it might be about.  It I s anti-historical, anti-narrative, adapting the past to comment on the present.  The singers sing parts which aren't characters so much as symbols.  Bychkov reveals Khovanshchina as a panorama exploring the Russian soul through music.  That glorious orchestration expresses the glory of the idea of Russia, an entity far greater than Tsars, streltskys and whoever might be competing for control.
Significantly, Khovanshchina is very much a work where grand choruses dominate: the people as enduring community, rather than individuals, who come and go.  Thus the expansive orchestral prelude with which the opera begins: lush strings, lyrical woodwinds. Though the first scene is set in Red Square in the seventeenth century, the countryside isn't far away. Without those fields and rivers, the people wouldn't prosper, there'd be no point in rebellions or suppressions. The crowd in Red Square boast and threaten. The music here moves back and forth in rhythmic patterns, impressive and dramatic, but leading nowhere.  The drama really starts when Emma (Anush Hovhannisyan)  enters, pursued by Andrei Khovansky (Christopher Ventris).  She's German, part of a large community who'd settled the Baltic for a thousand years. When boors beat up on women all the time, why use a German, not a Slav ?  Emma's not a historical figure, but she symbolizes something. Andrei Khovansky and his father Ivan (Ante Jerkunica) fight over Emma, who wants neither of them.  Luckily, she is saved by Marfa (Elena Maximova).. Marfa was once Andrei's fiancée.but is now an outsider, having joined the Old Believers. Think on that. Thus the First Act ends with religion, not war, with the tolling of huge, ominous bells, hushed, reverential choruses and the resounding calls of Dosifey (Ain Anger), leader of the Old Believers, whom the Tsar and powers that be would like to destroy.
In the Second and Third Acts, the soloists take the foreground.   The constant to and fro in the score evokes the turbulence of the plot.  The text fills in some of the background, but essentially the singers are acting out a wider drama of which  their roles are only a small part.  Intrigues and paranoia: everyone at cross-purposes, grabbing for power. Though heroic trumpets ring out round them, the Strelsky are grubby opportunists, and Golitsin (Vsevolod Grivnov ) princely by title, not by nature.   The choral lines swirl, whipped to frenzy by wildly rhythmic, yet angular orchestration.   Part folk dance, part military march.  Even among the Old Believers, there is dissent : Marfa is denounced by Susanna (Jennifer Rhys-Davies).  Thus Dosifey and Marfa represent the moral heart of the drama, the writing for their parts the strongest of all.  Among a good cast, Ain Anger and  Elena Maximova stand out out. Breathtaking singing, with fervour and committment.  Marfa's part is even better developed, with a greater emotional range.  Though the Old Believers are paternalistic regressives, Marfa symbolizes Mother Russia, their true soul.
For a while, though, Ivan Khovansky feels secure. In Act Four Mussorgsky writes exotic "Oriental" dances, but a mournful solo woodwind melody suggest the luxuries might come to an end.   Although Mussorgsky set out to write "Russian" opera in resistance to Wagner, the mournful melody could suggest (to Wagnerians, at least) the shepherd's flute in Tristan und Isolde.  The chorus sings of Khovansky as a "white swan". Perhaps the melody is his swan song.
Intrigues are crushed.  We're back with the crowds in Red Square, but now the mood is foreboding, the choirs singing in fearful hush. Golitisin is marched into exile, his followers marched to their deaths.  Yet again, Dosifey is the spokesman who describes the action, in tones so sombre that you can imagine what's happening though you see nothing literal.  Trumpet  fanfares, thundering timpani: marches lead the rebels and to the scaffold. Or rather to immolation.  The choral lines stretch, as if fanned by flames and swirling smoke.  The brass and percussion explode.  The Tsar has triumphed.
So, too, must the Old Believers be annihilated.   The Final Act begins in gloom, long string lines suggesting desolation.  Dosifey's last sermon seeks solace in God : the orchestral colours around him shrouded, the choruses singing a solemn hymn.  The childrens' voices rise upwards, suggesting angels.  Though the percussion beats violent staccato, the choral line ascends, as if the Old believers were being lifted upwards by prayer.  Beautifully modulated singing, which seems to shimmer brightly against the darkness around it.  Although Mafra has saved Andrei, he still loves Emma, and she him. Mafra's love isn't tied to earthly things She and Andrei will die like "two candles in flames" for the glory of God, not alone, but with the community of Old Believers.  In the finale, the orchestra erupts, brasses blazing. The choruses sing, Mafra's voice soaring above. But heavy percussion pounds a funeral march, and suddenly - silence. 


Bychkov drew from the BBC Symphony Orchestra playing of ferocious richness: you';d think this was a Russian opera orchestra rather than our much-loved familiar London band.   Perhaps they were inspired, too, by the exceptionally vivid singing of the choruses, the BBC Singers supplemented by the Slovak Philharmonic Choir, and later the Cardinal Vaughan Memorial School Schola Cantorum and the Tiffin Boys Choir.  Mussorgsky creates drama through the intensity of writing . By bringing this music so passionately alive, Bychov created drama from sound.

Semyon Bychkov Tchaikovsky Project Beloved Friend Barbican

Semyon Bychkov's Tchaikovsky Project "Beloved Friend" continues this week at the Barbican Centre, London. It's an ambitious series connected to a series of recordings with the Czech Philharmonic Orchestra, with concerts taking place in London with the BBC SO and in New York with the New York Philharmonic, next year. The concerts (at least in London) were augmented with a play by Ronald Harwood on the relationship between Tchaikovsky and Madame von Meck, the "beloved friend" in question. Major publicity, too: flyers were distributed at the Royal Albert Hall during the Proms, almost guaranteed to get attention.  So, why are so many tickets still unsold, even for Monday's concert at the Barbican? Tchaikovsky should sell out, particularly with upmarket stars like Bychkov and Kirill Gerstein, and interesting programmes which feature lesser known but important choices like the original 1879 version of Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto no 2.  Although the London music scene is unusually quiet at the moment there doesn't seem to have been much public reaction.   Even Friday's concert with the Symphony Pathétique and Rachmaninov The Bells hasn't sold out.  It doesn't make much sense, since the first concert, broadcast live on BBC Radio 3 was pretty good.

Tchaikovsky's Manfred Symphony op 58 is a huge beast, nearly an hour long, and full of dynamic extremes. Inspired by Byron's poem Manfred it tells of a hero confronting supernatural demonic forces in a cosmic struggle that takes place in the Alps. In Byron's time, the Alps symbolized danger, the vastness of nature dwarfing humankind. Schumann's Manfred is Romantic in the true, wild Germanic sense. Tchaikovsky, however. was Russian and a man of the theatre, so Bychkov's approach emphasized the expansiveness that gives the piece context.  Bychkov's a great opera conductor, he knows how music can "speak"on its own terms.  He created the panoramic backdrop to the drama vividly: generous, sweeping lines suggesting limitless horizons.   As the tempo quickened, the orchestra soared upward: searching lines contrasting well with the sudden crashing climax with which the first movement ends.  Perhaps this is the moment when Manfred meets his mysterious half sister Astarte. What is the nature of their relationship (bearing in mind Byron's unnatural relationship with his own half sister) ? And, why the mountains?  The second movement, marked vivace con spirito, describes a mountain spirit, one of the elementals who haunt Alpine lore. They are fairies, but also signify danger, their elusiveness defying human control.  Thus the high violin melody that flies above, and away, from the main orchestral foundation.

The third movement describes the mountain folk, who carve out marginal lives in harsh conditions, yet seem happy as they dance, presumably in pure, open air festivals. They're tough folk and down to earth, while Manfred, though a hero, is rather more quixotic. Like Byron himself, maybe, a towering figure but one with dark complexes. Tolling bells suggest danger. The music descends into a stranger mood, sounds crashing against each other as if the earth itself was imploding,"fire" pouring forth from the rapid rivulets of sound.  Manfred fights off the evil spirits who tempt him, but chooses to die on his own terms. What might Tchaikovsky have made of this? The finale was grand, the pace brisk, craggy peaks and descents sharply defined, dizzying figures suggesting turbulence. Not mountain breezes, but perhaps something more demonic.  The organ underlined the cosmological nature of Manfred's predicament.  Bychkov recently conducted a magnificent Strauss Alpine Symphony. Read my review here - Mordwand !   Bychkov's Manfred Symphony, like his Alpine Symphony  were definitely not "tourist trail".  Although the drama dissipates at the end of the symphony, textures are more refined, more esoteric, one feels that perhaps Manfred is entering a new frontier, beyond the ken of mankind. Hence details, like the horn calling the hero on, and the dizzying upwards rush towards a serene conclusion that might suggest spiritual sublimation.

This programme began with Kirill Gerstein and the Piano Concerto no 2, in the much longer original  version, like Manfred,  monumental in its traverse.  Maybe audiences take Tchaikovsky - and Bychkov and the BBC SO - for granted and don't realize how much goes into performance at this level of excellence; things like this don't just "happen".  So get to Monday's concert if you can, which features "Three faces of Tchaikovsky: the graceful, elegant Serenade with its stunning melodies; the single finished movement of the unfinished Third Piano Concerto, the composer’s last work; and the Dante-inspired tone-poem Francesca de Rimini with its portrayal of a forbidden love" to quote the Barbican ad, and Taneyev's Overture to Oresteia.  Perhaps the most intriguing of all three concerts in Bychkov's Beloved Friends Tchaikovsky Project.  

Mordwand ! Bychkov Alpine Symphony Strauss Larcher

Devastating Strauss Eine Alpensinfonie Op 64 from Semyon Bychkov at Prom 57, majestic yet menacing,  as if inspired by the Mordwand, the "murder wall", pictured above, the north face of the Eiger, which has defied so many who've dared try conquering it.  This was an Alpine Symphony to defy those who don't understand Strauss or his self-deprecating good humour.  "It is a life journey", said Bychov on the re-broadcast, "It's deeply existential, it starts with one coming into the world, travelling through all the things that happen in one's life and then in the end, going back into the night and going into the next existence, whatever it is.... It is something that invokes very powerful images and deals with the entire spectrum of the human condition. For us on the stage it is like living a life in the span of fifty minutes or so.  It is full of tension, it is relentless. The 22 episodes succeed each other, but if one can unite them into one arch, uninterrupted, it gives the feeling of  a journey. It's full of joy, it's full of drama, pain, of suffering - it's everything"

Eine Alpensinfonie a Heldenleben? Mountains as metaphors for life, a subject on which I've written extensively (follow link below on mountains)  Bychkov's strong-minded Strauss could be a companion piece to Mahler's Symphony no 3, which Bychkov has also conducted extremely well.  The Alpine Symphony is shorter, but concise, the ideas more concentrated.   Even Bychkov's Mahler Symphony no 6 (read more here) was infused by this insight into the concept of landscape providing structure for metaphysical ideas.   In the "Nacht" episode, horns call us forwards, and cymbals crash. The "mountains" loom ahead, emerging out of the rumbling darkness into sunlight.   As Boulez used to say "Listen for the trajectory". No waffling here.  Bychkov leads the ascent with urgent, though not rushed purpose.  The lyrical segments use metaphors like forests and brook, but their value isn't merely scenic. The waterfall sparkles with life : the stream originates in a source high above, possibly from beneath the primeval glaciers.  Thus the bright sparkle in the orchestra, as if the music itself were infused by light, the wind instruments, literally suggesting wind, speed and  movement.

The "Erschienung" is a warning.  Elemental mountain spirits haunt alpine lore. In musical terms this introduces mystery, a reminder that getting lost in mountains can get you killed. The "meadows" of calm serve as a looking-back, a pause that highlights the arduous ascent. For a moment, we're rewarded with expansive vistas, the strings shining, the brass suggesting vast scale.  What is this "Vision"? Is it a panorama, or a glimpse of higher spiritual and artistic ideals?  But just as we think we've reached the high point, darker, more elusive elements enter.  In the mountains, storms can appear in sunny skies, as in life.  Bychkov shaped the quieter passages : single, sharp  bowings and pluckings carefully observed.  The timpani crash, the orchestra breaks out in tumult, though a tumult meticulously defined so its colours remain ferociously vivid.  Lose your wits in a mountain storm and you're dead. After the outburst, the music stretches again: elegantly but with affirmation.  Strauss includes celeste and organ for sonority, but also to suggest what might lie behind the transcendance. As Bychkov said, we don't know what lies ahead, but we are not really back at the beginning. though the diminuendos might evoke clouds and nightfall.  In this performance I kept imagining that I heard echoes of other works. including  Mahler 8, but definitely not direct quotes.  As in so many things, the wider your experience, the more you get out of life,  and the more you learn from your "journey", a message which does reflect the firm resolve of Strauss's conception.  Definitely not a "chocolate box" performance!  Bychkov's intelligence and clarity of vision made this an immensely rewarding traverse. 

At first, the connection between Strauss's Alpine Symphony and Thomas Larcher's Symphony no 2 "Cenotaph" might have seemed a stretch. Larcher lives in the Austrian Alps, apparently almost off grid, and much of his output  is mystically contemplative, like his Violin Concerto (more here), his Piano Concerto and his Die Nacht de Verlorenen (more here)  Larcher's Symphony no 2 grew from his anguish over the refugee crisis in the Mediterranean, and the images of drowned children and fleeing migrants.  But don't expect a "programme" or any obvious signposts. Instead, it's a piece which deals with emotional response to crisis: shock, anger, frustration expressed through abstract sound. Thus the large orchestra and multiple voices,  complex cross-rhythms and density, a powerful repetitive theme which pounds fiercely, dissipated only by rising, sharp figures that then explode in an outburst of fast-moving flurries.  A hollow non-melody where the bow of a single violin skitters over wood is absorbed by the orchestra but then emerges once again, after silence.   Vividly angular lines, wind machines, dizzying changes of tempo. The insistent pounding repetitions seems to rise like an insane dance, then disintegrate into shards, followed by an odd but very beautiful quasi-minuet that breaks off after a few bars, then revives in the third  movement, a scherzo where the repetitions become fuller, and more circular.  The lone violin returns for a brief moment, followed hy low drones and then silence.  (Photo of Thomas Larcher above copyright Richard Haughton.)

"I want to explore the forms of our musical past under the light of the (musical and human) developments we have been part of during our lifetime"  Larcher wrote for the premiere this June where Bychkov conducted it with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra  "How can we find tonality that speaks in our time? And how can the old forms speak to us? These are questions I often ask myself. This piece is very much about different forms of energy: bundled, scattered, smooth, kinetic or furious."   This Proms season, there have been premieres which have been just awful as music ( Lera Auerbach), barely redeemed by good performance, and work ruined by conductors who think one  size fits all, regardless of genre (no names, but thank goodness one of these is moving on).  Bychkov doesn't conduct much new music, but here he showed what a real conductor can do when he cares enough about music to do it properly.  Larcher's Symphony no 2 is a keeper. If the BBC would programme good new music with good performances, instead of commissioning titbits  and populist crossover, audiences would realize what's really happening in the world. 

Between two pieces of non-programmatic work based on theoretical programmes, Richard Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder in Felix Mottl's orchestration, with soloist Elisabeth Kulman.  Pleasant enough but, for once, Wagner didn't eclipse all else.

Bychkov Vienna Philharmonic Brahms Franz Schmidt Prom 73

In Prom 73, at the Royal Albert Hall, London, Semyon Bychkov conducted the Vienna Philharonic Orchestra. The  VPO are so good that they don't need a Chief Conductor. Music seems to flow from them, channeled and shaped in partnership with those who have conducted them. Their aura is unique, built upon flawless technique and innate, intuitive musicianship on all levels.  Claudio Abbado, who conducted them regularly, once said "Music is an ongoing process, a constant quest, a quest for new forms of music-making, a permanent state of enrichment."  Listening to the Vienna Philharmonic is proof, if any were needed, that dedication and vision of this calibre refreshes the soul.

In the opening movement of Brahms Symphony no 3 Op 90, 1883, Allegro con brio, the motif at its heart was clearly defined. "Frei aber einsam", Free although alone. the confidence of a protagonist mature enough not to need to prove anything. This symphony is a model of restraint, each movement returning to quiet understatement.  Bychkov and the VPO shaped the long keening lines in the second and third movements so they seemed to express a melancholy longing for something which might never be regained. One hardly needs to know the Schumann connotations when the piece is interpreted with such insight and sensitivity. Thus the intense figures in the final movement were marked forceful, sharp stabbing rhythms suggesting determination. Trombones, horns and bassoons, instruments with big voices, yet played with sensitivity.  Lovely  as it was with the VPO, they understood that this Allegro isn't "light", but carries deep emotional undertones. Listening link HERE.

It was a great pity that the performance was spoiled live in the auditorium because after the first movement the ushers let in large numbers of people who hadn't checked  that the Prom started at 7pm not 7.30, yet were allowed to enter the hall noisily, disturbing others who had come for the music. It didn't help that Bychkov seemed to be under the weather, mopping his brow a lot, but that is his privilege. Audiences who actually care about music listen, and shouldn't burst into mechanical applause at every pause. Serious music isn't TV talent show, it doesn't depend on mindless approval. Ironically, this "audience participation" reinforced the insight  in the Bychkov/VPO  interpretation.

It was a wise choice to pair this Brahms 3 with Franz Schmidt's Symphony no 2  (1913). Comparing a composer to one more familiar is fair enough, but it's far more important to listen to music for its own sake.  The better the composer, the more individual he (or she) will sound.  This symphony is most certainly not a pastiche. Ultimately labels close minds and ears.  Schmidt was very much an individual of his time, cognizant with a wide range of others.  Although this particular symphony isn't as well known as the superior "Book of Seven Seals", Schmidt's Symphony no 4 was a huge success at the Proms  in 2000. Schmidt is not obscure and was very much a part of the period in which he was active. Bychkov clearly loves the piece and conducts it with such enthusiasm that he makes it convincing.  He's been conducting it everywhere in the last few years, even leading the student orchestra of the Royal Academy of Music in it last March. When, not if, he records this, it will become the version to get hold of.

Schmidt's Second Symphony spans three movements. The first movement, marked Lebhaft, was lively, with an interesting interplay between confident brass and  playful strings and winds. The VPO played the expansive lines with a great sense of freedom, and the pastoral passages shone with lyrical grace. In the hands of lesser performers  one might detect an uncertainty in the resolution, but with Bychkov and the VPO, the sound is so gorgeously rich that one can luxuriate without worrying too much.  The second movement,, marked "einfach und zart" (simple and tender) is a series of variations, each quite distinctive. Bychkov and the VPO kept tempi flowing, to accentuate the spirited exuberance. Do we hear the ghosts of the Johann Strausses (Not Richard) ? The final movement begins with an impressive brass and wind chorale, which gradually grows to introduce a variation on the woodwind theme in the first movement.  Listening link HERE.

In the final coda,the fanfare surges again, a blaze of glory,played with such richness that it would be wrong to quibble about emotional depth.  Rather like, I thought, the last gasp of the old world before it was annihilated in 1914-1918. Far too much nonsense has been written about Schoenberg forcing music into modernism.  It was the War What Did  It!  And the Nazis, and the inexorable process of artists responding to the times they live in. The twelve tone system opened up new possibilities, it didn't suppress anyone.   The huge variety of styles which proliferated in the 1920's, 30's and beyond is clear evidence that composers can do their own thing. And thus, we return to the singular depth of Brahms Symphony no 3 as revealed by Bychkov and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.   

Coming up next - The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra in a brilliant Elgar Gerontius

Live aus Wien Bychkov Khovanshchiina Saturday

Mussorgsky LIVE from the Wiener Staatsoper this Saturday, 15th November, 1930 Vienna time, on OE1@ORF.at . Semyon Bychkov conducts Mussorgsky Khovanshchiina with Mit Ferruccio Furlanetto (Iwan Chowanski), Christopher Ventris (Andrei Chowanski), Herbert Lippert (Golizyn), Andrzej Dobber (Schaklowity), Ain Anger (Dossifei), Elena Maximova (Marfa), Norbert Ernst (Schreiber)

Electrifying Elektra Goerke Bychkov Prom

Electrifying Strauss Elektra at BBC Proms 59 = Semyon Bychkov, Christine Goerke. Amazing on radio asnd even more so live. Indeed, this was one of those rare occasions when you can say, in awe, "I was THERE!". The Royal Albert Hall is a huge barn of a hall.  Six thousand seats placed round a hollow space that rises upwards, culminating in a dome that used to suck up sound until they added those space-age acoustic baffles.  But there's nothing like a Royal Albert Hall Prom. The atmosphere is so intense that the excitement must communicate to performers. If they've not overwhelmed (understandably) they can be challenged to give the performances of their lives.

Yet, despite the size of the Royal Albert Hall, Semyon Bychkov conducted an Elektra so full of intelligent detail that the vast cavern of the building seemed to burst with colour and incident. The BBC SO aren't normally an "opera" orchestra, so perhaps they were responding to Elektra as dramatic orchestral music. Bychkov made the music move, almost as if it were an invisible demonic force. Agamemnon has long been dead, yet his ghostly presence hangs heavy over those he's left behind. In Charles Edwards' production (read my review here) the dead king hovers over proceedings like a shadow. Bychkov's intense, impassioned conducting suggests the psychic havoc the king must have unleashed in his time. Perhaps the savage, pathological genes Elektra and Orestes carry came from him  Their lust for revenge goes far beyond filial love. Maybe Clytemnestra killed him because he wasn't a nice man.

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Soon after Elektra starts singing, the "dance" theme  bursts out. Dance in this case is a form of madness. Bychkov conducted the circular rhythms so we could feel the obsessiveness percolate. Savage climaxes, the strings screaming and stabbing. The axe lies buried underground but "sings" through the orchestra. Strauss builds maniacal laughter into his music, and  even  the unearthly bright stare some schizophrenics exhibit. Woodwinds played sensually but with morbid undertones. Bychkov's ear for detail is musically informed but also psychologically true. Someone complained that the ROH production wasn't "palatial" or elegant. But for Strauss, and for Bychkov, this palace is a prison of the soul. Andris Nelsons was brilliant at Covent Garden last year, but Bychkov works with the dynamic of the Royal Albert Hall to bring out subtleties often missed, like the parody of waltz and "family values". In the final dance, Bychkov highlights the percussion,  with its intimations of the organized violence of a military society where women like Elektra (or Clytemnestra) can't act other than through men.The lushness of this instrumentation is deceptive. Like the palace, it's poisoned. The savage last chords made me think of Wozzeck.

Christine Goerke has created so many Elektras in recent years that she probably owns the part these days. Her voice is richly resonant, shading into mezzo territory, which allows a remarkable range of emotional expressiveness. Elektra's a killer part, forcing the voice up to the extremes, torturing technique, but Goerke delivers. She's not afraid to let the role dictate the way she sings. When she recognizes Orestes, her voice rises to near-scream, then softens into tenderness. How long it must have been since Elektra felt safe enough to feel human kindness, Goerke's voice warms yet still carries memories of pain.  Through Goerke, we glimpse what Elektra might have been. At the Royal Albert Hall, Goerke displayed a new dimension to her artistry. She wasn't giving an "opera house" performance but enacting the role in such a way that she filled the massive auditorium, not with amplified voice but with amplified personality. Truly remarkable: in all these years of Promming, I can't remember any singer taking control of the RAH like this. She made an impact that felt strikingly personal, up close and human, as if the distance her voice carried meant nothing, and we were one-to-one with Elektra in her isolation.

This warmth in Goerke's voice was paralleled by Gun-Brit Barkmin's Chrysothemis. Little sister wants marriage and babies, not death   Yet the firmness in Barkmin';s timbre, and the assertive confidence in her delivery  brings out the underlying strength in the role. We need to hear more from Barkmin. ROH take note! Chrysothemis is no Barbie Doll image of womanhood. Although Justin Wray is creditted as stage director, there wasn't any evidence of directing (other than use of lighting) until the final scene when Goerke and Barkmin embraced each other. Subtle, but significant.

Much-loved Dame Felicity Palmer sang Clytemnestra, receiving much applause. Although her voice is beginning to show its edges, Palmer's experience in the role paid dividends. When she sang about her fears, she made the chaaracter sympathetic. Cold-blooded killers don't fear bad dreams or, for that matter, fall for toy boys.  Johan Reuter sang Orestes, with Robert Künzli as Aegisthus. Katarina Bradić , Zoryana Kushpler, Hanna Hipp, Marie-Eve Munger, Iris Kupke, Miranda Keys as the maids and their overseer, Ivan Turšić as a young servant  and Jongmin Park as Orestes' tutor completed a fine line-up.

Britten War Requiem Royal Albert Hall Bychkov BBC SO

On Remembrance Sunday, Semyon Bychkov conducted Benjamin Britten's War Requiem at the Royal Albert Hall with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, the BBC Symphony Chorus, Crouch End Festival Chorus and choristers of Westminster Abbey.  The sense of occasion was overwhelming. The vast auditorium was packed, and the arena area, where Prommers throng in summer, was filled with seats. Before the performance began, the house lights were turned, not onto the stage but onto the audience. It was a moment of sheer theatre, but utterly appropriate, for everyone in the building must have known, or know of someone affected by the barbarity of war. No-one could remain unmoved. Wilfred Owen wrote about the First World War, and Britten wrote to commemorate peace after the Second World War. But the world is still wracked by conflict. Wars of attrition continue, millions of people still suffer. Turning the spotlight on the audience reminded us that Remembrance is more than "Lest we forget" but also implies moral obligation.

How amazing it must have been for the performers to look onto the Royal Albert Hall and see the lights shining on thousands of faces!  This was infinitely more a communal experience than just a musical event. The lines between performance and reception blurred.  Normal measures of performance were largely irrelevant. We were all participating in something much greater than ourselves.

Because the War Requiem was commissioned to mark the rebuilding of Coventry Cathedral, it has become associated with vast venues and ostentatious displays of public piety.Although it's written for some 300 performers, at the really critical moments, Britten silences the tumult. Britten was essentially a private man, not given to big public gestures of emotion. The heart of the piece is the twelve member ensemble that accompanies the two male soloists. The choruses and the female soloist sing in Latin, and sing words that would fit neatly into any standard Requiem Mass. Significantly, Britten sets the key texts in English, using the words of Wilfred Owen, who wrote from personal experience.  Owen does not celebrate public victory: quite the opposite.  He fought bravely, but eschewed formal religion. Britten doesn't quote the biblical story of Abraham and Isaac, but Wilfred Owen's Parable of the Old Men and the Young, with its reference to the wilful slaying, not sanctioned by God, of "half the seed of Europe, one by one"

"Move him into the sun" sings the tenor (Allan Clayton). The quote is from a poem titled "Futility". A corpse lies on snowbound ground.  The soprano and choruses sing "Lachrymosa", of tears and the conventional expression of sorrow. The music is beautiful, but Owen, and Britten are having none of this. "O what made fatuous sunbeams toil, to break earth's sleep at all"?  Unlike seeds in the soil, the dead don't re-sprout. In the Sanctus, the choirs sing "Hosanna in excelcis". But Britten has the baritone (Roderick Williams) sing, quite pointedly: "Mine ancient scars should not be gloried. Nor my titanic tears, the seas, be dried". Britten's War Requiem isn't designed to comfort, but to provoke.

Bychkov places the chamber ensemble to his immediate left, "the heart side" in theatre parlance..The instrumentation mimics that of a large orchestra - five strings, four winds, horn, harp and percussion - but the individual voices are heard clearly: It's another indication of Britten's "inner" programme.

"Lbera me, Domine" the soprano (Sabina Cvilak) sings, haloed by the chorus. "Tremens factus sum ego" (I tremble  and fear)  The orchestra screams, cymbals crashing, suggesting the chaos of battle. Bychkov's definition of horns, trumpets and trombones was specially good, emphasizing military conflict. But Britten deliberately shifts focus. To minimal accompaniment the tenor sings ""Strange friend, I said, here is no cause to mourn".  Tenor and baritone face each other in a strange No Man's Land where  nations do not fight. There are no "Germans" or "British" here, but two human beings, man to man. Their voices blend. "Let us sleep now", singing in unity.  They are turning away from the vast forces around them. Perhaps Britten recognized that social forces dominate over the private. The War Requiem ends on a wave of uplifting glory, sending the audience out into the world feeling  the better for having been part of the experience.

 Please also see my reviews of the War Requiem with Jurowski, the LPO, Bostridge and Goerne (best soloists), and of Antonio Pappano's recording with  the Academia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, Rome,, Academia Stana Cecilia Rome, Bostridge, Hampson (best orchestral playing). Semyon Bychov, the BBC Symphony Orchestra, Clayton, Williams and Cvilak, however, won hands down on atmosphere. More on this site about Britten and war than any other, bar Britten-only sites.

This review also appears in Opera Today.

Apropos to the ideal of "conventional piety" please read this article "This year, I will wear a poppy for the last time" by a 91 year old veteran.  He's right. Piety is a good thing but it can be hijacked by commercial and political interests. To honour those who have fallen, we should care enough that we don't let these things happen again.