Vivacious Schumann Symphonies 1 & 3, John Eliot Gardiner, LSO

John Eliot Gardiner's Schumann series with the London Symphony Orchestra, from the Barbican Hall, London in 2019, now available on CD. This recording captures the verve and spontaniety of live performance, which further enhances the vividness of expression.  Schumann's Symphony no 1 in B flat major,Op. 38, (1841) and his Symphony No. 3  in E flat major, Op. 97, (1850), together with the Overture to Manfred Op. 115 (1848). (For my review of Schumann Symphonies no 2 & 4 with Gardiner and the LSO, please see here)

Following on from Gardiner's Mendelssohn series with the LSO, this Schumann series presented Schumann as Early Romantic, his sensibilities shaped by Mendelssohn and Weber.  In the last few decades, the assumption that Schumann's orchestrations were "inept and clunky" and needed "fiddling and re-touching", to quote Gardiner, has long since been refuted, as musicians and audience have come to appreciate Schumann on his own terms, demonstrated by the number of performances and recordings in recent years inspired by this fresh approach. Gardiner's Schumann series with the LSO is significant because, more than most conductors, he comes from a background immersed in period style and aesthetics.  The London Symphony Orchestra doesn't use period instruments, but that in itself means much less than their understanding of the aesthetics of informed perfomance practice.

Having established his reputation as a composer of music for solo piano, Schumann turned to works for voice and piano, influenced in no small part by his marriage to Clara.  The glorious outpouring of his Liederjahre  saw the creation of masterpieces like Dichterliebe, where individual songs form a larger work internally connected by theme and form.  Appreciating Schumann's Symphony no 1 in this context helps us appreciate him as symphonist. The associations with Spring aren't merely descriptive, but may refer to the Early Romantic symbolism of Spring as purity, simplicity and the freshness of Nature. In four movements, the symphony is "classical" though the spirit is distictively individual.  The exuberant fanfare follows speech rhythms,  quoting a line from the poet Adolf Böttger, "Im Thale blüht der Frühling auf". The andante picks up to vigorous allegro molto vivace, ending with emphatic affirmation. This accentuates the restraint of the second movement, which briefly had the title "Evening".  The scherzo repeats the fanfare, this time more earthy, highlighting the charm of the two trios. "The fanastic, mercurial humour of Schumann's great solo piano cycles", says Gardiner, "is here recreated brilliantly in orchestral terms". The final movement quotes Schubert's C Major symphony, the "Great", whose manuscript Schumann had uncovered in Vienna in 1838, but, as Gardiner says, the slow horn and flute cadenzas are pure Schumann "and for a moment it seems a new world of magical possibility is opened up".

Gardiner's approach to Schumann's Symphony no 3, the "Rhenish", also brings out the connections between the symphony and Schumann's many songs, even more so than in the First Symphony. Given the central position of song in Schumann's ouevre, his sensitivity to poetry and visual images and his very personal identification with the Rhine, it is wise not to underestimate the song aspects of this symphony.  Indeed, one could suggest that Schumann's Third inhabits a place from which we can consider his search for new forms of music theatre, evolving from oratorio Das Paradies und die Peri  (Op 59, 1843) (please read more here) to Genoveva (1848)  (read more here)  an opera that is more Weber than Wagner.  Is Schumann 3 song in symphonic form ? John  Daverio, the most intuitive of Schumann scholars, felt that text was integral to the music far more deeply than in the sense of word-painting. Schumann liked the shape of syntax, the rhythms of declamation. Schumann's music drama is only "difficult" if we expect it to evolve like Wagner, with conventional narrative. Instead, it's closer to abstract, conceptual art. In this performance, Gardiner and the LSO illuminated the colours, evoking the magic of the worlds of Weber, Mendelssohn and Singspiel tradition.  Lightness of touch, and freedom, are thus integral to interpretation.

Schumann's Symphony no 3 was inspired by an interlude of great happiness, when Robert and Clara took a holiday along the Rhine, both of them acutely aware of its symbolism and place in  Schumann's songs, such as "Berg’ und Burgen schaun herunter" from Liederkreis op 24, and the verse, from Heine :
"Freundlich grüssend und verheißend
Lockt hinab des Stromes Pracht;
Doch ich kenn’ ihn, oben gleißend,
Birgt sein Innres Tod und Nacht.!"

In a sense Schumann's third symphony is almost autobiographical, as if the composer were looking back at the high points in his career.  Gardiner and the LSO articulated the sparkling figures in the opening movement so they flowed, like a river, sunny but with darker undercurrents hinted at in the strong chords in the second theme, and the quieter passages in its wake. This coloured the second movement, suggesting the scherzo qualities behind the surface. There are echoes of folk dance, evoking the vigour of peasant life, but Schumann doesn't tarry. Bassoons, horns and trumpets called forth, the movement, ending on an elusive note.  The movement marked "Nicht schnell" was gracefully poised: as an intermezzo it connects the happiness of the Lebhaft  movement with what is to come. The solemn pace of the fourth movement marked "Feierlich" may describe a ceremony the Schumanns witnessed in Cologne Cathedral, but its musical antecedents can be traced to other sources, such as the song "Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome" from Dichterliebe.  The size of the cathedral, and the reverberations within it are suggested by the figures (trombones, trumpets, bassoons) which stretch out as if filling vast spaces. With Gardiner's clear textures the motif suggesting a cathedral organ was very distinct.  Whateverv the movement may or may not mean, the muffled horns and brass fanfares evoke a power that is very far from the insouciant quasi-folk tunes that have gone before. Yet Schumann concludes not with gloom but with a reprise of the sunny Lebhaft, the emphatic chords even stronger than before, this time lit up by a glorious fanfare, the brass shining above the strings below. The very image of the Rhine surging past towering mountains. Since we now know of Schumann's suicide attempt, this adds depth to our response.

Gardiner and the LSO make further connections by pairing Schumann's Third with his Overture to Manfred. In Byron's poem, Manfred is doomed, "half dust, half deity" driven mad by some unknown guilt, possibly incest, which in Byron's case may have been true. To German readers, there would have been echoes of Goethe's Wilhelm Meister.  Schumann's emotional extremes had been apparent at an early age, and his sister had committed suicide in her youth. Mendelssohn, whom Schumann revered, had died in 1847 while still in his prime. The Overture begins with majestic upward chords, rising like mountains, quintessential Early Romantic symbols on many levels, undercut by plaintive woodwinds and strings. As Gardiner points out, "the dark key E flat minor is particularly challenging for strings, yet the sense of strain this creates adds to the intensity".  Schumann's orchestration is so well defined that, in the eleven minutes of the Overture alone, he captures surging turmoil and psychic upheaval.

John Eliot Gardiner, LSO - Schumann, the Early Romantic

Sir John Eliot Gardiner conducts Schumann's Symphony no 2 in C major, Op. 61 (1847) and Symphony no 4 in D minoir (Op 120) with the London Symphony Orchestra, now available on the LSO label. In the past few decades, there has been a sea change in the reception of Schumann's music, particularly of the later works and of the symphonies. Schumann died young, just as Wagner's reputation was in the ascendant, a factor colouring public reception. Imagine if Schumann had lived to counterbalance Wagner ?

In more recent decades, there has been a sea change in Schumann reception,  based on a greater appreciation of the composer's influences and the aesthetic of his time. This focuses on Schumann's individuality and true originality, his later works and the symphonies benefiting from more sensitive performance practice.  Gardiner's approach highlights the energy in Schumann, deriving from the values of individuality and freedom that characterized the Early Romantic period.  At the Barbican, Kristian Bezuidenhout. playing a pianoforte from 1837 by Sébastien Érard, with leather hammers covered in felt, very similar to the instrument Mendelssohn used, demonstated sounds that affected the compositional process.  "There is a textural topography to these instruments" he said "Every register has a characteristic voice....moving from bass to tenor, and above, where the piano sounds similar to the harp".  Hence the brighter, livelier textures, and "singing" lines, agility and flexibility that characterize the approach which Gardiner and more recent conductors value in Schumann.

Here Gardiner presents Schumann's symphonies framed in the context of his Overture to Genoveva (Op 81, 1850) which Schumann started writing in 1847, around the time that his  Symphony no 2 in C major (Op 61, 1847) was completed. The original folk tale on which Genoveva is based dates back to the Middle Ages. Indeed it’s the basis of stories like Snow White ! In legend, Genoveva lived in the forest, protecteda by animals and by her virtue. Significantly, though, Schumann rejected the medieval concept, choosing instead to base his opera on Friedrich Hebbel’s more psychological drama, published only four years previously. Schumann wanted a “modern” take on the story, possibly exploring a new form of music theatre, as he was doing with works like Die Paradis et das Péri and Szenen aus Goethe's Faust.  As Hebbel said “Any drama will come alive only to the extent that it expresses the spirit of the age which brings it forth”.  Gardiner creates the inherent drama in the piece and its very non-Wagnerian transparency.  The glowing colours build up like a chorale, then into the themes in the opera, before the final fanfare, in the way that successive proscenia in a theatre add depth to a flat stage.

In Schumann's Symphony no 2 Gardiner shaped the brass, without stridency, the "brassiness" muted and dignified, integrating well with the bassoons, winds and strings. How poignant the horns and winds sounded, evoking Nature, hinting at the forest imagery so close to the heart of the Romantic imagination.  The Scherzo is particularly animated, notes seeming to fly in fiendishly complex patterns, though sharply defined.  A delicate yet purposeful Adagio, Gardiner bringing out details  which reminded me of the strange enchantment in Mendelssohn's A Midsummer Night's Dream.  A brave, afffirmative last movement, undercut by the moody bassoon from the Adagio, which Schumann told a friend was the point at which he heard his "half sickness" calling him.  Nonetheless, the composer had a "special fondness"  for this strange melancholy, which infused even the happiest moments of his life. Wisely, Gardiner understands why serene passages mix with quirky moments : smoothing them out would diminish the personality in the music, and in the composer himself.

For Schumann's Symphony no 4, Gardiner chose the original 1841 version rather than the published version of 1851.  The first version was panned by critics at the time, while the revision, more audience-friendly, proved more popular.  Given Gardiner's emphasis on Schumann's originality, this was a wise choice.  The raw energy in this performance is thrilling - Schumann without censorship, so to speak.  In the first movement, andante moves swiftly to allegro, ending with emphatic punch, makingthe transition from major to minor in the Romanza even more unsettling. The oboe-cello melody may be a form of love song  since this was Schumann's Liederjahre, a period of happinesss and creativity, after years struggling to win Clara.  Here, it feels shaded by melancholy, echoes of  Dichterliebe mixing joy with anxiety, the violin melody offering tantalizing hope. In the Largo, magnificent long lines are briefly interrupted by brisk dotted rhythms, before low timbred brass signals change.  The dichotomy of long chords and brisk notes is resolved in a vivid Allegro vivace, which here marches, then hurtles exuberantly to a flourish.  In the live concert, Gardiner didn't pause between movements, so the symphony flowed freely, connecting themes giving shape to the whole, as inspired as Schumann must have felt in that year in which his creative powers surged without restraint. Gardiner has performed and recorded Schumann's symphonies many times,  and this latest release, with the London Symphony Orchestra shows how well they respond to his dynamic approach.    

Berlioz Benvenuto Cellini Prom - JE Gardiner

Berlioz Benvenuto Cellini Prom at the Royal Alberrt Hall, London, with John Eliot Gardiner conducting the Monteverdi Choir and Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique . A stirring performance, bursting with Berliozian brio !  Robert Hugill, writing in Opera Today (please see full link here) says it had "a rhythmic tightness and brilliance which belied the music's complexity and Gardiner's speeds certainly took no prisoners so that the Carnival scene was completely dazzling in many ways as choir, soloists and orchestra articulated Berlioz' busy and complex rhythms whilst keeping the whole sparkling and fun. The finale, with the casting of Perseus, was equally devastating".  I'd absolutely concur. Benvenuto Cellini is a big, big beast which thrives on energy. No stodge, please. 

Gardiner's use of period instruments and period-informed practice paid off well. "The narrow bore brass, including cornets as well as trumpets, and an ophecleide (!) made a strongly characterful impression without overbalancing in the way can happen with modern instruments and the period wind (with four bassoons) were similarly characterful and colourful. And it was this sense of a wider range of colour that we took away from the performance, something that Gardiner seemed to relish. The period strings were lighter in colour and far less dominant in the busy passages, making the whole full of lovely detail, which meant we could appreciate the sheer skill of all the performers."

Good singing, good playing and above all, an electrifying sense of theatre, even semi staged. 

The Wit of HIP : J E Gardiner, LSO Schumann series, Barbican

John Eliot Gardiner conducted the London Symphony Orchestra in the third concert of their Schumann series at the Barbican Hall, London.  A coherent programme - Carl Maria von Weber Overture to Euryanthe, Mendelssohn Concerto for violin and piano (Isabelle Faust and Kristian Bezuidenhout) building up to Schumann Symphony no 3 (The "Rhenish"). This is what "historically informed performance " means: understanding music as music, in context and on its own terms.  Respecting the composer as far as possible, not smothering him with a fire blanket of audience expectations.  Nothing wrong with expectations formed in the 1950's and 60's for something to put on the brand new turntable. But there's so much more to music than that. Gardiner shows how fresh and vital Weber, Mendelsssohn and Schumann can sound, nearly 200 years after they were "new".

Weber's Overture to Euryanthe began with vivid attack. The early Romantics were fearless, exploring audacious new ideas.  There's nothing timid about the opera Euryanthe. Indeed its bizarre plot makes it almost impossible to stage (fire-breathing dragons, long before Wagner). All the more reason we must appreciate the technical limitations with which Weber created the drama. Natural horns : reminding us of a time when people hunted in order to eat, where Nature represented danger. That the strings have to try harder is the whole point !  The solo violin melody reminds us how vulnerable mortals are against the unknown, yet bravely they persist. That also justifies the practice of getting the musicians to stand while playing. It's not novelty. The sound is subtler and more human.  Modern audiences need to get over being conditioned to very late performance practice and much larger forces and respect what went into the music in the first place. Conductors stand throughout a performance, and if Gardiner, who is 75, can do it, most players can. The greater freedom of movement comes through in greater freedom of expression, and greater engagement between members of the ensemble, who seem to listen to each other more than they might do otherwise.

That aesthetic of chamber communality also informs Mendelssohn 's Double Concerto for Piano, Violin, and Strings in D minor, MWV O4 (1823), where the LSO were joined by Isabelle Faust and Kristian Bezuidenhout.  Mendelssohn was just fourteen when he wrote this, but its restraint connects to his background and to the influence of his grand-aunt Sarah Levy, a musician whose recitals championed the music of Bach.  Bezuidenhout played a pianoforte from 1837 by Sébastien Érard, with leather hammers covered in felt. "There is a textural topography to these instruments" said Bezuidenhout in an interview before the concert, which is well worth listening to on the replay of the livestream here, because he demostrates with examples. "Every register has a characteristic voice....moving from bass to tenor, and above, where the piano sounds similar to the harp".  Mendelssohn worked so closely with the instrument that Bezuidenhout believes that it shaped his compositional processes, allowing him to experiment with what the instrument could offer.  Hearing the Érard did make a diffrence. Textures were lighter and livelier, colours brighter and more nuanced.  Faust's playing (a 1724 Stradivarius) picked up on the greater freedom and vivacity,  which in turn extended to the orchestra.  Altogether a unique experience, further proof that well-informed performance practice can be revelation.

A vigorous Schumann Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, Op. 97,(1850). Given the central position of song in Schumann's ouevre, his sensitivity to poetry and visual images and his very personal identification with the Rhine, it is wise not to underestimate the programmatic aspects of this symphony, even though this might not appeal to modern assumptions about what a symphony should be.  Indeed, one could suggest that Schumann's Third inhabits a place from which we can consider his search for new forms of music theatre, evolving from oratorio Das Paradies und die Peri  (Op 59, 1843) (please read more here) to Genoveva (1848)  (read more here)  an opera that is more Weber than Wagner.  Is Schumann 3 music theatre in symphonic form ?  Hearing it in the context of Weber and Mendelsson, who didn't write opera but wrote incidental music of genius,  we can hear how the drama in this symphony affects interpretation.

Gardiner's period approach reflects German Romantic music theatre before the revolution that was Richard Wagner.  Here the colours glowed, evoking the magic of the worlds of Weber, Mendelssohn and Singspiel tradition.  Not all magic is malevolent,. This last of Schumann's symphonies was inspired by an interlude of great happiness, when Robert and Clara took a holiday along the Rhine, both of them acutely aware of its symbolism and place in  Schumann's songs, such as "Berg’ und Burgen schaun herunter" from Liederkreis op 24, and the verse, from Heine :

"Freundlich grüssend und verheißend
Lockt hinab des Stromes Pracht;
Doch ich kenn’ ihn, oben gleißend,
Birgt sein Innres Tod und Nacht.!"

Gardiner and the LSO articulated the sparkling figures in the opening movement so they flowed , like a river, sunny but with darker undercurrents hinted at in the strong chords in the second theme, and the quieter passages in its wake. This coloured the second movement, suggesting the scherzo qualities behind the surface. There are echoes of folk dance, evoking the vigour of peasant life, but Schumann doesn't tarry. Bassoons, horns and trumpets called forth, the movement ending on an elusive note.  The movement marked "Nicht schnell" was gracefully poised: as an intermezzo it connects the happiness of the Lebhaft movement with what is to come. The solemn pace of the fourth movement marked "Feierlich" may describe a ceremony the Schumanns witnessed in Cologne Cathedral, but its musical antecednts can be traced to other sources, such as the song "Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome" from Dichterliebe.  The size of the cathedral, and the reverberations within it are suggested by the figures (trombones, trumpets, bassoons) which stretch out as if filling vast spaces. With Gardiner's clear textures the motif suggesting a cathedral organ was very distinct.  Whateverv the movement may or may not mean, the muffled horns and brass fanfares evoke a power that is very far from the insouciant quasi-folk tunes that have gone before.  Yet Schumann concludes not with gloom but with a reprise of the sunny Lebhaft, the emphatic chords even stronger than before, this time lit up by a glorious fanfare, the brass shining above the strings below. The very image of the Rhine surging past towering mountains.

On Sunday 10th February, Gardiner and the LSO will do their last concert in this Barbican Schumann series, with Schumann's Symphony no 1 and the Manfred Overture (tickets here)  To read about their first concert, with Schumann Symphony no 2 in C major op 61 (1847) and the Overture to Genoveva with Berlioz Les nuits d'été, please read HERE.

John Eliot Gardiner LSO Schumann Berlioz

John Eliot Gardiner, photo Sim Canetty-Clarke

The start of a major Schumann series with John Eliot Gardiner conducting the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican: Schumann Symphony no 2 in C major op 61 (1847) and the Overture to Genoveva with Berlioz Les nuits d'été, soloist Ann Hallenberg. Gardiner is one of the great Schumann conductors of our time, so the LSO are right on the mark, choosing him to head their Schumann series, which began with this concert, continues on 15th March and into 2019.  A major series, whose importance cannot be overestimated.  Perhaps we can hear Schumann all the time, but rarely at this level of excellence.

Gardiner's  approach to Schumann is inspired by a deep understanding of the composer's aesthetic.  It's a mistake to assume that period-informed performance means period instruments  It has much more to do with understanding the composer's idiom and practices which might enhance performance dynamics. The LSO doesn't use period instruments, but achieves werktreue effects by other means.  The players didn't sit down to play but instead stood up throughout.  Immediately, you could hear  the difference.  You'd need cloth ears not to notice, even if you didn't know "why". Because the players were closer together, the sound was more concentrated, achieving volume without having to force the instruments, the sound projected from a few feet higher than usual,  intensifying the interaction between players and podium. Chamber-like sensititivty, in a large (ish) ensemble. The musicians could move freely, flexing their bodies naturally, without the rigidity that comes from sitting down. This flexibility flowed through to the music, which felt direct and spontaneous, textures bright and clearly defined.  Gardiner's Schumann is agile and alive, revealing the composer's true originality.


Gardiner preceeded Schumann's Symphony no 2 with the Overture to his opera Genoveva, which he began at around the same time as he wrote the symphony. The connections go deeper.  The original folk tale on which Genoveva is based dates back to the Middle Ages. Indeed it’s the basis of stories like Snow White, for in legend, Genoveva lived in the forest, protected by animals and by her virtue. Significantly, though, Schumann rejected the medieval concept, choosing instead to base his opera on Friedrich Hebbel’s more psychological drama, published only four years previously. Schumann wanted a “modern” take on the story. As Hebbel said “Any drama will come alive only to the extent that it expresses the spirit of the age which brings it forth”. The Overture sets the stage, introducing the themes that will be developed more fully in the opera. It's marvellous, but listen to how it zooms into a chorale, and then into the opera proper, rather like successive proscenia in a theatre add depth to a flat stage. Schumann's doing dramatic perspective with music.

Schumann's Symphony no 2 begins with another brass chorale, which  here came over without stridency, the "brassiness" muted and dignified, integrating well with the bassoons, winds and strings. How poignant the horns and winds sounded, evoking Nature, hinting at the deep sources of the Romantic imagination.  Moving from sostenuto to allegro, Schumann then creates a wild scherzo where notes seem to fly in fiendishly complex patterns, though the themes are sharply defined.  Schumann 2 is unusual, because it mixes serene passages with oddball quirks. The last movement is sublime, but it's undercut by the moody bassoon from the Adagio, which Schumann told a friend was when he heard his "half sickness" calling him. Yet he had a "special fondness"  for this strange melancholy , which infused even the happiest moments of his life. Who but Schumann could have written Dichterliebe as a wedding gift after having struggled so long to win Clara from her father?

Throughout this symphony there are oblique references to Bach and especially to Mendelssohn whose Midsummer Night's Dream music casts a magical glow on the Adagio.  The assertive, affirmative confidence of the final movement seemed to come straight from the spirit of Beethoven. 
Genoveva and Lohengrin both premiered in the summer of 1850. Wagner disparaged Schumann, as he disparaged Mendelssohn (Schumann’s hero). Since Wagner’s opinions were influential, Genoveva has been eclipsed, and most late Schuman undervalued because it doesn't fit the Wagner ethos  But  Schumann’s ideas on music and music drana stem from sources earlier than Wagner, and might have developed an alternative path had he continued writing after the age of 45.

Between Schumann's Overture to Genoveva and his Symphony no 2,  Berlioz Les nuits d'été op 7 (1841). Gardiner is also a great Berlioz conductor : remember his Damnation of Faust last year ? (read my piece here).  The immediacy of Gardiner's style adds punch to  the song cycle, enhancing dramatic tension.  Ann Hallenberg was a good soloist, not especially French, but in the context of a Schumann series, that's perfectly apt. 

This concert was also broadcast live, part of the LSO live initiative. This itself is news, since it enables the LSO to reach international audiences online who might not otherwise be able to attend concerts, even when the LSO goes on tour.  This particular concert seems to attracted less than the number who logged in for Bychkov's Mahler symphony no 2, but that's fair enough. Mahler is box office, while Schumann and particularly up-market Schumann is more esoteric. It will be interesting to see what the next live stream draws on April 11th (Mahler 10, Simon Rattle, Michael Tippett The Rose Garden)  The economics of livestream are hard to measure.  This concert reached about as many as would be seated in the Barbican, but will continue to attract viewers on Youtube for a longer period. The knock-on effect should also be felt in CD/DVD sales. Long term, streaming enhances the profile of the orchestra, and reaches a wider public.

Berlioz Damnation of Faust JE Gardiner Prom

Berlioz The Damnation of Faust with John Eliot Gardiner conducting the Orchestra Révolutionnaire et Romantique, the Monteverdi Choir, the National Youth Choir of Scotland, the Trinity Boys Choir and soloists Michael Spyres,  Ann Hallenberg, Laurent Naouri and Ashley Riches.  Gardiner's Berlioz is of course not news to anyone, since he's been conducting Berlioz for decades and The Damnation of Faust many times, though his only commercially available recording dates back over  30 years. Thus the joy of hearing it afresh, with new forces at Prom 31. This was Berlioz revealed as a man ahead of his time - wonderfully fresh and alive.

Though Goethe's Faust is based on medieval legend, Faust, like Goethe himself, was a prototype of Modern Man, one of the first Romantic heroes, in the sense that he breaks the rules.  Significantly, Faust  rejects the values of society around him, obsessed by war and mindless destruction.   Berlioz's Faust is revolutionary, too, because the piece breaks conventions of genree.  Like Roméo et Juliette, (read more HERE) it's neither opera, nor symphony, and isn't strictly oratorio. It's not narrative but predicates on the idea that audiences know the original literary sources. And Symphonie fantastique's pretty unusual, too. Read more HERE (JEG  at the Proms 2015). 

In Faust's town, on the edge of the countryside, the locals are celebrating Easter. But they don't get the irony.  Jesus died for their sins, so they have no qualms about sinning again. With the Orchestre Révolutionaire et Romantique, the archaic sound of horns and drums evokes a sense of endless time, as if we were hearing echoes of ancient battle, the past haunting the present.   This sense of Time, in Faust, is fundamental. Faust is an old man, who has spent a lifetime learning, in the belief that knowledge is something work seeking. But the world doesn't care, rattling (those fifes and drums) on its merry way to madness.  Berlioz emphasizes the time dimension, incorporating children's choruses to emphasize the contrast between youth and old age, knowledge and ignorance. Not that children are ignorant. Adults who scrap like kids are all too ignorant.  Thus the punchy briskness of the First Part : the world going merrily to hell, uncaring.

It helps that Michael Spyres' voice is young sounding, agile enough to traverse the elaborate flights central to French style. Faust's old on the outside, but his mind is sharper than most.   Laurent Naouri is a superb Méphistophélès. In Berlioz, the devil is suave, a sophisticate who dissembles with elegance and charm.  Leave brutishness to bassos profundo in other operas, and other composers !  For their first trip together, Méphistophélès take Faust  to a tavern in Leipzig, where students carouse, drinking themselves to oblivion, instead of studying.  Berlioz writes deliberately crude rhythms, blurry lines for the chorus and flatulent passages for brass.  Period instruments are earthy and punchy, expressing humanity in a way more polished instruments can never quite achieve.  Gardiner and his players let us hear the drunks swaying, arm in arm from side to side.  Brander (Ashley Riches) sings of drunken rats and Méphistophélès's of fleas. Vermin, and vulgarity.  So much for "le fatras de la philosophie".
On the fields and woods by the Elbe, Gardiner's approach and the personality of his orchestra add to the sense of pristine simplicity. The music becomes vernal, suggesting open meadows and fresh  breezes.  Spyres singing sparkled, and the choruses of gnomes and sylphs were well parted, with almost hypnotic effect.  The ballet music was magic. Then everyone marches off merrily in search of the vision Marguerite.
Thus the martial fanfare with which Part 2 begins. For a moment we can luxuriate, such as when Spyres sang the lovely phrase "Que j'aime le silence". Again, Berlioz juggles concepts of time.  He doesn't state literally what happens in Marguerite's bedroom.  Instead Marguerite (Ann Hallenberg) sings the mock medieval song of the King of Thule.  Everlasting love, past, present and future.   The Minuet of the Will-o-the-Wisps was particularly vivid, the orchestra creating the sparkling but spikey angles in the music so they felt at once magical and sinister. I swear I could hear a triangle glisten.  For the love between Faust and Marguerite is, like a will-o-the wisp, but a momentary flicker of light.  Faust has to flee, but Hallenberg gets Marguerite's lovely Romanze "D'amour ardennte flamme",  deeper and more intense than the childlike song of the King of Thule. Here, the orchestral melody is specially poignant with antique instruments. Faust and  Méphistophélès  slug it out in a landscape of forests and mountain peaks: yet again, antique hunting horns evoke a sense of timeless struggle.The children's chorus "Sancta Maria!" in keeping with the mood.
From the horror of the Abyss, the even more Gothic Pandemonium with its demonic choruses.  Jagged angles and crashing fanfares.  Ominously marvellous singing from the men of the Monteverdi Choir, thus throwing the angelic choruses that follow into even higher relief.  Limpidly beautiful harps and strings, and the name "Marguerite" called as if from Heaven.   

No tourists - John Eliot Gardiner Chabrier Debussy BRSO

Sir John Eliot Gardiner with the Symphonieorchester des Bayerischen Rundfunks at the notorious  Gasteig in Munich last week. Gardiner isn't getting any younger, but he's greatly loved. Every opportunity to hear him live is worth cherishing. This time he conducted Emmanuel Chabrier and Claude Debussy.  A delightful programme, elegantly constructed.  Playful, even, sparked with Gardiner's characteristic wit.  Setting the scene,  the concert began with Chabrier's Overture to Gewendoline,  (1886), much better known than the opera itself. Gwendoline is a fantasy on early medieval Britain, set in an Anglo-Saxon village being raided by Danes. The opera wasn't a huge success, neither comic nor grand enough for Parisian taste, yet not over the top enough for Wagnerian audiences.  Nonetheless, it probably deserves revival these days, when the ideal of unified Europe is under threat. Much better Chabrier's civilized if slightly dotty romance than the rumblings of nationalist extremism.  Perhaps in those sweeping strings, we can imagine the swelling waves of the North Sea, and winds blowing the Vikings ashore. Mock medievalism in glory: neither mayhem nor pillage on the horion.The winds suggest Tristan und Isolde, and the finale explodes, trumpets and trombones ablaze, and giant crashing percussion. True MGM richness!

Rather more elegant, Chabrier's Suite Pastorale (1888) orchestrating four of the composer's 10 Pièces pittoresques (1881)   Gardiner's lightness of touch was ideal : these pieces charm because they're light and aphoristic.  Then the Fête polonaise from Chabrier's opera Le roi malgré lui. (1887).   It's not kitsch  "Polish", though the last movement is part waltz and part polka, almost a parody of Vienna and the Johann Strausses.  But it's echt Chabrier.  Gardiner and the BRSO executed the piece stylishly,  the scherzo-valse executed with vivacious flair. Last year, Chabrier's L'étoile was staged at the Royal Opera House. Chabrier's idiom doesn't fit into neat operatic categories. Its warm hearted, unpretentious cheerfulness expresses itself in a taste for absurd whimsy. The key to understanding L'étoile was, I think, understanding his orchestral music, and his ironic style.  So if the opera didn't go down well with London audiences that says as much about them as it does about Chabrier.  Thus, Chabrier's "greatest hit" España (1883). A delicious performance, like a tourist's memory of an ideal holiday in Spain. The strings whirr like strumming "guitars" and flamenco rhythms add spice.  And, like a tourist fantasy, it doesn't last.  In this case, six minutes!

Chabrier's "travelogues" complemented Debussy's Images, in the sense that the most famous section, Ibérica, has a Spanish context. Gardiner began, though, with the Rondes du Printemps.  Rounds: hence the cyclic feel of the piece, reminiscent of the "waves" in La Mer, written at roughly the same period, the folk melodies flowing like undertow.  Gardiner followed this  with Gigues  to reinforce the idea of abstract form as opposed to pictorial colour.  True, Ibérica incorporates features that might evoke Spanish flavour, but it is also a "round" in itself, being made up of three inner sections, the outer two inspired by abstract form.The core, Les parfums de la Nuit is mysterious. Its beauty needs no ostensible title.   Listen to the rebroadcast of this concert here on BR Klassik.

Beautifully multi-layered Orphée et Eurydice Royal Opera House

Christoph Willibald Gluck Orphée et Eurydice at the Royal Opera House.  John Eliot Gardiner conducted the English Baroque Soloists and the Monteverdi Choir, so musical excellence was  absolutely guaranteed. More surprisingly, the production itself broke new ground, for it connected the music, the singing and the dancing into a stunningly integrated whole. This takes vision. In its own time, Orphée et Eurydice was ground breaking, introducing radical reform to the genre. Gardiner and the Royal Opera House know their music history and have the artistic vision to bring Orphée et Eurydice back to life in a production as audacious as this.

Orpheus journeys into the Underworld. He doesn't save Eurydice but finds music.  Orphée et Eurydice  is an opera about abstract concepts, so abstract expression is of the essence, just as it would have been in Greek drama. The narrative unfolds through music, in different forms and on different levels. Hence John Fulljames and his designer Conor Murphy uses the whole performing space at the Royal Opera House, placing the orchestra centre stage. Even when it's barely visible, partly hidden in a pit, it's absolutely present at the very heart of the production, fundamentally true to its spirit. A production for those who actually "get" that opera is music.

Music leads us out of the total darkness representing "le tombeau de Eurydice". Hence the gloom that overhangs the structure from which the singers emerge. The  columns represent marble pillars, yet also the forest of tall trees, depicted in many paintings because they, too, are symbolic.  The music suggest ceremonial dirge, a hymn in the style of Classical Antiquity familiar to Gluck and his audiences. Gardiner respects the solemn pace, from which Orphée will emerge. This opera is Orpheus's journey, and one which he has to make alone, hence the"concert performance" emphasis on Orphée, which is vital to meaning.  Although the role was conceived for a castrati, and is usually now cast for mezzo, here we had the French version.  Juan Diego Flórez has the dramatic presence to carry it off. His long Récit at the end of the First Act felt emotionally convincing.His timbre also highlighted the frilly decorations in the part of  Amore (Amanda Forsythe). 

Love is also an erotic force. Flórez and many of the male dancers wear pantaloons not unlike the fleeces which shepherds draped around their waists. Significantly, Pan, too, was a shepherd an element of mythology which would have come as second nature to Gluck's audiences raised on Greek classics.  The dancers of the Hofesh Schechter Company, choreographed and directed by Schechter, moved with animal-like physicality, wildly gesturing yet precisely in time with the music. Gardiner whipped the orchestra to near frenzy, expressing shocking portent. No mortal has ever defied the natural order of life and death. Even Eurydice (Lucy Crowe) demurs. The natural warmth of period instruments driven hard like this creates tense contrast, also very much part of meaning. The instruments are vulnerable, like mortals, but their playing is heroic, all the more to be admired for that. Gardiner reveled the fundamental connection between baroque music and dance. Precision is of the essence. Dancers, like musicians, don't approximate gestures if they are any good. What a joy it was to watch Gluck's music come alive in physical form !

It was wonderful to watch how the nymphs and shepherds of the Monteverdi Choir walked among the dancers of the Hofesh Schechter Company - mortals and mythic, almost non-human elementals brought together by the miracle that is music. I don't know who the dancer with the dreadlocks was, but he danced like a Fury. Is he an alter ego to Orphée and perhaps a hint of Orpheus's eventual fate? Orpheus enters the Underworld for good when he's ripped apart by demons. So many layers of meaning, opersting together, united by music. In the harp we hear the lute with which Orpheus will find his destiny.  Lights shone from above, channelled at first through small apertures, like sunlight. Then the whole stage, singers, dancers and orchestra were all illuminated in golden light and burnished tones of antique copper.  Orphée doesn't save Eurydice, but when he re-enters the world, he's found his mission.

Get to this. It runs until 3rd October. It's like nothing else you're likely to experience in a while.

The full Monty : Prom 25 Monteverdi L'Orfeo Gardiner

The full Monty! Prom 25, MonteVerdi L'Orfeo with John Eliot Gardiner.  Utterly outstanding, vibrant with life and energy. Eurydice dies on her wedding day and Orfeo descends to Hades to bring her back from the dead.  He fails, but in music, he finds life, and the eternal source of creative power that it represents. Monteverdi didn't look back, as Orpheus did, but looked forward, and is generally credited for creating the amazing art form that is opera in the western classical tradition.  Gardiner has this music in his soul, but seems to re-live, and revive afresh. This is what music should be about - a life force channeled by creative adventure.

L'Orfeo was written for small, semi-private places, but the verve which Gardiner and his forces brought to it in the vast empty acoustic of the Royal Albert Hall was astonishing. Defying the laws of physics, Gardiner's English Baroque Soloists created sounds that seem to vibrate around the building, not by the force of volume but by vigorous joie de vivre.  And with period instruments, too !  Of course they were aided by modern technology, but why not ? We don't need to eat baroque food and wear baroque clothes to be "authentick". It's the spirit of the music that really counts. Given a choice, Monteverdi and his audiences would, I think,  have been thrilled. Nothing is "dead" in this music, except to ears that prefer to be dead.

Hardly anything about the baroque period was timid. Rather, it was an explosion of audacious imagination, when the very idea of an insular Old World  was being blown away by discoveries of other, exotic new worlds, and horizons. Kings with absolute power, and upper class audiences,  didn't give a toss about "pleasing the public". Hence the passion and intensity of this music, and its inventiveness   The English Baroque Soloists are thus named because they're highly individual, each instrument distinctive, and played with great technique. Even clapping hands make music ! In Act One, the pastoral sounds evoke ancient Arcadia, neither Greece nor early 17th century Europe but somehow more elusive. When Eurydice enters Hades, the orchestra responds with a striking range of colours. When Orfeo returns to the world, we hear his harp singing. Eventually he will be torn apart by  demonic spirits, but for the moment, he's creating art, and life, with his music.

The Monteverdi Choir were  glorious : this is their forte, and how! Great soloists, too - Krystian Adam sang Orpheus, Marina Florez sang Eurydice. Full cast and listening link HERE. 

The Orpheus myth is so potent that it has been reborn many times in art, literature and in music.  The Royal Opera House is doing Gluck's Orphée et Eurydice in September.  This kind of value-enhanced immersion lets listeners go as deeply as they like into the ideas behind music, and the different ways in which such ideas can be expressed, infinitely less superficial than the shallow Ten Pieces mindset. There's absolutely no reason why non-listeners can't be drawn into the magic of music through more solid fare.Let's pray that ROH or the ENO will do Harrison Birtwistle The Mask of Orpheus, which was so successful at the Proms (unstaged) in 2009. (Read more here)  Luckily we had his The Corridor and The Cure,  (a good piece of music marred by a stupid production)  Read more here.  Monteverdi to Harrison Birtwistle - that's a thought ! But one which proves the universal relevance of music.

Ambitious Royal Opera House 2015/2016 season

The Royal Opera House 2015/2016 season is one of the best for a long time. Eight new productions in the main auditorium alone, and a florescence of new work at the Linbury, before it closes for refurbishment.  An ambitious range from the baroque to the modern.   Juan Diego Flórez sings his first Orphée, and Bryn Terfel his first Boris Gudunov. Even some of the revivals are "new", like Tannhäuser and Il trittico, revived for the first time.  And even more intriguing, ROH is going musically in depth, enhancing appreciation of opera repertoire by developing themes which connect operas and by doing opera-related orchestral music. Even the revivals of more regular repertoire are given star treatment. Jonas Kaufmann and Bryan Hymel, no less. Joyce DiDonato and Vittorio Grigolo make their role debuts in Massenet's Werther.

ROH starts 2015/2016 in grand style, with Gluck's Orphée et Eurydice, in the 1762 French revision, conducted by John Eliot Gardiner with Juan Diego Flórez's Orphée and Lucy Crowe, and his own specialist musicians, the Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists. Hofesh Schechter, the acclaimed choreographer, will direct. An interesting fusion of period performance and modern dancing. An even earlier telling of the Orpheus legend will be Luigi Rossi's Orphée (1674), with Christian Curnyn conducting the orchestra of the Early Opera Company at Shakespeare's Globe, where ROH staged L'Ormindo: very different from the Roundhouse Monteverdi Orfeo (1607) .earlier this year. A hat trick of early Orpheus operas, which, when heard in close succession enrich and inform, so we get more from what we experience. This is intelligent, joined-up thinking! This summer, ROH is presenting Birtwistle's The Corridor, also based on the same story. Could we dare hope for a new production of  his The Mask of Orpheus? Above, Orpheus with his lute, in a 17th century painting by Benedetto Gennari.

Bryn Terfel makes his long-awaited role debut in Mussorgsky's Boris Gudunov.. Richard Jones directs, so expect surprises, but also very musically informed insights.  This production is based on the 1869 seven-scene version of the opera, dramatically more taut and tense. Antonio Pappano conducts. Terfel will clearly be the draw but Ain Anger will be singing Pimen: an interesting contrast of voices. Anger is highly regarded, so his Covent Garden debut will be something to look forward to.  John Tomlinson, so closely connected to the opera, will appear in the vignette role of Varlaam.  

In November, the world premiere of Georg Friedrich Haas's Morgen und Abend, a co-commision between ROH and Deutsche Oper Berlin. Haas's In Vain created a sensation when it was heard at the South Bank last year. Read my article Invisible Theatre : George Haas In Vain  to get an idea of what Haas's music is like. It's intensely dramatic. Morgen und Abends is based on a Norwegian novel about the life of a man from birth to death, morning to evening. Graham Vick directs, Michael Boder conducts. 
  
A new Cav and Pag for Christmas!  Eva-Maria Westbroek should be a superb Santuzza in Cavalleria Rusticana, to Aleksandrs Antonenko . He's also singing Canio in Pagliacci,, plus Dimitri Patanias.  Very solid casting. It will be directed by Damiano Micheletto, who's directing Rossini Guilliame Tell.this summer.

Donizetti Lucia di Lammermoor, with two different casts in April (Diana Damrau) and May (Alexandra Kurzak) 2016, directed by Katie Mitchell, who is approaching Lucia as a woman forced into madness..  

Georges Enescu's Oedipe (1936) continues ROH's exploration of 20th century opera, following on from Szymanowski's Król Roger.(1926).  This production, by Alex Ollé and Valentina Carrasco of La Fura dels Baus, was first heard in Brussels three years ago, with Leo Hussain, who will again be conducting. 

Stars for  Emmanuel Chabrier  L'etoile, a macabre comedy. Incidentally, Laurent Pelly directs this opera in Amsterdam in October. In London, we'll be hearing a completely different production directed by Mariane Clément, who'll be directing Donizetti's Poliuto at Glyndebourne next month.  In London, Christophe Mortagne will be singing King Ouf I.

Verdi Il trovatore next year, a co-production with  Frankfurt Alte Oper, directed by David Bõsch with Gianandrea Noseda making his ROH conducting debut.

Plenty of other interesting things, especially in the Linbury before its closure, after which performances will shift elsewhere, such as to the Lyric Hammersmith.   The now regular co-operation between ROH and Welsh National Operas  brings Iain Bell's In parenthesis, directed by David Pountney. Among the many British composers being presented is Philip Venables, with his 4.48 Psychosis,  about the playwright Sarah Kane, and Mark Simpson's Pleasure co-commissioned by ROH, Opera North and Aldeburgh. For more, peruse here.

Neo classical power : John Eliot Gardiner Stravinsky Oedipus Rex Barbican

John Eliot Gardiner marked his 70th birthday at the Barbican, London, with long-term associates the LSO and the Monteverdi Choir.

Historically informed performance is usually misunderstood, which is all the more reason why JEG's role should be celebrated. His background gives him insights that confound preconceived expectations.  His Verdi Rigoletto at the Royal Opera House (review here) brought out the turbulence in the score reached only by a conductor like JEG who knows how Renaissance music reflected turbulence and violence.

True to form, Gardiner approached Stravinsky with striking originality  Conceptually, Oedipus Rex is remarkable because it confounds expectations. Stravinsky and Jean Cocteau deliberately chose emotional distance. They cloaked the text in a dead language so the impact is indirect. Like  Greek tragedy, Oedipus Rex is stylized. . Oedipus Rex isn't opera in the popular sense of the word, but something quite unique.

Significantly, Gardiner began with Stravinsky's Apollon musagète. Like all ballets it evolves through a series of tableaux, but the structure in this case highlights something very different. Just as he shocked traditional ballet with the Rite of Spring, Stravinsky was exploring a new approach to music for dance. Apollon musagète adapts the pared down elegance of neo-classicism to the cool, clean lines of 1920's modernism.

The orchestra is strings only, limiting the palette so the refinement of form is unclouded. This music is so precise that one hardly needs visuals. The solo violin enters like a dancer, swooping and sweeping. The line is languid but elegant , defined with delicate decoration. The concept of physical movement is defined in the music itself. Curving movements, swooping and sweeping, diagonals, lines that break off to return again with fuller force. Trios and solos intertwine. The violins here are dancers, violas, celli and double basses their corps de ballet. JEG had them standing for a very good reason. As the music circulated, it became more and more rarified, shimmering with lightness, defying the concept of gravity. Music, the apotheosis of dance. Gardiner has conducted enough Rameau, Lully and masters of the French baroque to know that concepts of form and clarity are fundamental to style.

In this context, JEG's Oedipus Rex was extremely perceptive, stressing the neo-classical stylization. The emotional distance is reinforced by the use of a Narrator (Fanny Ardant) and Chorus, creating a frame around the solo singing parts. The instrumentation is spartan, used effectively rather than effusively. Observing Stravinsky's economy of gesture is important because it suggest the implacable, impersonal nature of fate. Sentimentality has no place in a drama like this. Instead, Gardiner conducts with tightly controlled tension, keeping the longer line in focus. When climaxes came, they were explosive. Suppressed violence like this works better than overt excess. When the trumpets cried in fanfare, and the chorus sang "Gloria!", we didn't hear militarist triumph, but rather choruses of terrified voices. Just as in Apollon musagète, Stravinsky uses sounds as abstract voices This time, the palette is dark and brutal, shades of granite metal and rock, as impenetrable as the fate from which Oedipe cannot escape.

Stuart Skelton was a superb Oedipe. Being the central protagonist, his part is more complex and emotionally more anguished. The rhythmic pulse in the music is relentless, almost overwhelming, but Skelton rose to the challenge so well that one could - almost - imagine that he might beat what fate had in store. In that, he created the part with sympathy. He made Latin sound like a living language -- demotic and off the streets. It gave the singing a thrilling sense of immediacy, as if the events were actually unfolding in real-time.

Gidon Saks's Creon was impressive. The weight of Saks's voice is such that it inhibits mobility, but this is a part which is meant to be taken with implacable solidity. Jennifer Johnston's Jocaste was deftly paced, and even the small tenor role of Shepherd made an impact. The part lies high, and here it was sung with an attractive fragility which worked well in the context of the drama. Five years ago Valery Gergiev conducted the LSO in an interpretation that was more low down and dirty. But Oedipus Rex isn't about false realism. John Eliot Gardiner and his forces brought out its true intellectual and musical power.

Pelléas et Mélisande Proms Debussy

John Eliot Gardiner brought Debussy Pelléas et Mélisande to the BBC Proms (prom 3) at the Royal Albert Hall. This was a recapitulation of the 2010 production at the Opéra Comique, Paris. Gardiner conducted the same cast.  Only the staging (Braunschweig) was missing, though you could spot resonances of it even in concert performance. (Listen online here for 7 days)

Pelléas et Mélisande can be interpreted in many ways, for its very nature is oblique. The Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique have a very distinctive sound. It's not instrumentation so much as idiomatic style. Gardiner creates an almost luminous account that seems to shimmer with the light and haze so integral to the story. Heat lies heavily on this opera, suffocating the inhabitants of the castle into psychic stupor. It's high noon in the garden by the well where Mélisande teases Pelléas and throws her golden ring into the depths. Who is Mélisande, and what does she represent?  As Gardiner conducts the interlude that leads into this scene, the orchestra creates Mélisande in sound - high, bright textures, limpid sonorities that suggest water, depth and danger. From this halo, Karen Vourc’h's voice emerged, exotic and elusive.

Gardiner, like Boulez before him, understands Debussy's extreme contrasts. Light and dark, oppressive heat, morbid dankness. Note the images : tower, well, caverns, linked by the symbol of Mélisande's long hair. Pelléas can't breathe underground. He's a creature of light, like Yniold, while Golaud inhabits depths. Laurent Naouri's Golaud was forceful, while hinting at Golaud's many inner fissures. He recognizes in Mélisande something he needs, but cannot comprehend why. In the forest scene, he faces away from her as if he's afraid of her power. In a fully staged production this makes sense, though less so in concert staging, where the voice is somewhat lost to the side of the hall. But Naouri is so good that he fills space with presence. Golaud as anti-hero: quite an achievement.

Phillip Addis sang an elegant Pelléas. very well attuned to Vourc'h's Mélisande. I can't forget Stéphane Degout's extraordinary Pelléas at the Opéra Bastille production in March 2012.  When we assess performance, we're always influenced by factors other than the performance itself and need to make a concsious effort to appreciate the actual performance on its own terms, not on our own. Addis is good and it's not his fault, but mine, that I imprint Degout. When Addis sings with Naouri, their balance is excellent : that's praise indeed.

Nice cameos from Dima Bawab as Yniold, and from Elodie Méchain as Geneviève. But what can I say about John Tomlinson's Arkel? Granted the role is that of an elderly man, but even the most magisterial of singers can't do the part justice when they themselves grow old. Tomlinson still looks good, and acts well, and the audience exploded with applause.