Showing posts with label Nielsen Carl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nielsen Carl. Show all posts

Friday, 11 January 2019

Wickedly idiomatic Carl Nielsen - Rattle, LSO Abrahamsen



Simon Rattle and the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican in Sibelius Symphony no 7, Hans Abrahamsen's Let Me Tell You (with Barbara Hannigan) and Carl Nielsen Symphony no 4 .  Rattle has conducted one of the finest Sibelius 7th's on record, and done it live numerous times, so no surprises expected : this was good, but the real fun was yet to come.
Rattle conducted Hans Abrahamsen's Let Me Tell You better than most of the many who have conducted the piece over the last few years, which is saying something, since it's been done so often and by so many.  Just as  Sibelius was cursed by the popularity of Valse triste at the expensen of his more substantial work, Let Me Tell You has become the curse of Abrahamsen.  Contemporary music for those who don't like contemporary music !  At roughly 35 minutes, it's longer than all the vocal music put together that Abrahamsen has written in his long and productive career.  It's good enough but not typical of his greatest work.   Let Me Tell You was created as a vehicle for Barbara Hannigan, so it fits her voice so well that she could be singing it well into later years.  Not that there were any problems here : she's nailed it so perfectly that she hardly needs to do much more.  The fans have come for her,  and her persona.  Rattle, on the other hand, made the orchestra sing , revealing the beauty in the music itself. : shimmering, liquid lines that flow and circulate, wrapping round the voice.  this l;oveliness is poison : Ophelia kills herself by drowning, throwing herself into the vortex of a stream.  Syllables fragment and reform, like droplets of water reflected in light - wonderfully delicate textures created by harp, celeste, and percussion with tubular bells and tiny wooden objects scraped and beaten, making sounds like grasses blowing in the wind. Sounds of nature, too subtle and too elusive to identify, reminiscent of Abrahamsen's greatest works like Schnee and Wald, though Hannigan takes precedence.   "Music is pictures of music", Abrahamsen once said. "That is a strong underlying element in my world of ideas when I compose - as is the fictional aspect that one moves around in an imaginary space of music. What one hears is pictures - basically, music is already there."   In Let Me Tell You, Abrahamsen collaborated with Paul Griffiths, the author and music historian, whose books on modern music are still, after 30 years, the best informed. In comparison, The Rest is Noise is Reader's Digest.
The revelation of the evening was Rattle's appoach to Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 4 op 29, The "Unextinguishable"  (Det Uudslukkelige). This, too, is a staple in Rattle's repertoire, but this performance was inspired.   The sharp attack in the opening bars contrasted with the lyrical first theme, zig zag chords introducing a more vigorous theme, produced here with a swagger, followed by quieter figures, like prancing footsteps. Sassy, expansive figures against moodier passages, exuberance underlined by percussion, winds and brass.  I thought of the series of photographs Nielsen was so proud of, where he grins and grimaces and hams up for the camera (see more here).  The Four (and more) Temperaments ! Just when we're getting into Nielsen's zany vibe, he slips into an elusive mood.   If the symphony deals with the concept of life inextinguishable, it is presented in infinite variety, though the same basic ideas evolve and proliferate, like units in Mandelbrot diagrams,  Nielsen anticipating later composers, even Boulez. The third movement, marked poco adagio quasi andante, wasn't a leisurely stroll, but purposeful.  Woodwinds called, and the strings sprang back to life.  Rattle drew forth an almost bluesy quality from the orchestra which was prescient, given that, even in wartime, one might sense a future where new influences might enliven the mix.  For a moment dark forces emerged :  percussion like gunfire, brass screaming tension, but gradually these gave way to joyous conclusion.  Nothing sentimental or escapist about this despite the vaguely MGM drum rolls. That wasn't Nielsen's style, quirky and defiant as he was. Wonderful, precise playing from the LSO who respond to Rattle better than they do for nearly anyone else.

Thursday, 31 August 2017

Renée Fleming at the Proms Barber Nielsen Oramo


Prom 61 : Renée Fleming sang Samuel Barber Knoxville: Summer of 1915 and Strauss with Sakari Oramo conducting the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra (Konserthuset Stockholm), , in a programme that included  Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments" and Andrea Tarrodi's Liguria.  Though the Nielsen was the highlight of the performance - done with great verve - BBC marketing played up the diva, whom most of the audience had come to hear. And rightly so, for Fleming is more than just a singer, she's a personality of such stature that any opportunity to hear her now should be cherished.

For me, the draw was Samuel Barber's Knoxville: Summer of 1915 op 24 (1948), an astonishing beautiful piece which I love dearly. There's nothing quite like it.  It's a stream-of-consciousness reverie, heard through a haze of orchestration, evoking what it feels like to be young and protected, still within the embrace of loved ones.  It is high summer,in Tennessee, inn the cool of the evening after a long, hot day. "...It has become that time of evening when people sit on their porches, rocking gently and talking gently and watching the street and the standing up into their sphere of possession of the trees, of birds' hung havens, hangars."  Note the melody with its sense of slow, rhythmic movement, as if the whole world was a cradle, rocking gently in the breeze.  Nothing much happens, and that's the beauty.  In the quietude, even the tiniest detail is lovingly observed, like the streetcar in this distance,  whose "iron whine rises on rising speed; still risen, faints; halts; the faint stinging bell; rises again, still fainter, fainting, lifting, lifts, faints foregone: forgotten."

Time itself seems to slow down and compress. The moment is so precious that the text lingers on images, trying to make them last as long as possible.  Thus the sudden exaltations, with inventive non-words created spontaneously.  "..They are not talking much, and the talk is quiet, of nothing in particular, of nothing at all. The stars are wide and alive, they seem each like a smile of great sweetness, and they seem very near.".   Eventually even the images shrink to their most instinctive essence. The poet is an infant again, the very idea of Self erased,nestledbackin the womb. .  "All my people have larger bodies than mine". But this nostalgia is doomed. The text takes on the semblance of prayer.  Time cannot stand still. These people will die. It's that sense of fragility and loss that makes Barber's Knoxville 1915 such a special piece.

This also makes it more difficult to perform than might seem at first.  The orchestration is deceptively simple - a  sensual woodwind melody, gentle strings, soft rocking rhythms, which need to be created with restraint yet deep feeling.   Received wisdom suggests that the singer should sound child-like, but I'm not so sure, for the protagonist is clearly someone who has grown old and learned what it means to lose what's closest and dearest.  Somehow the singer has to evoke both perspectives at once : artfulness, but without artifice.  There are many recordings, but very few get it right.  Better, I think, simple sincerity.  More than ten years ago, I heard a performance so self consciously over the top that I still shudder. (NOT Renée Fleming)  So  I'm so glad that Renée Fleming has at last commercially released a recording of  Barber's Knoxville Summer of 1915 (with Oramo and the RSPO) because the gap in the discography needs her.  Now, she's no ingénue and needs effort to project in the Royal Albert Hall. If that means sacrificing clarity of text,, for musical line, that's fine by me. She's  still good value.  She was on more familiar ground with the Transformation scene (Ich komme) from Richard Strauss Daphne.

Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments" (Op 16, 1902)  describes the  four temperaments - Choleric, Phlegmatic, Melancholic and Sanguine. An interesting companion  piece to Barber's Knoxville the Summer of 1915.   Nielsen, though, defines each mood with greater expansiveness. With glee, even.  One can imagine Nielsen's exuberant high spirits poking fun at people taking themselves too seriously.  There's a famous set of photos for which Nielsen posed, squirming and grunting, twisting his face in exaggerated emotion.  Please see my post here for more photos)  Sakari Oramo is one of the top Nielsen conductors around.  Indeed, he did the Nielsen symphonies as a group in parallel to a similar set around the same time as did John  Storgårds.  Both conductors are good because they have distinctively individual approaches which highlight aspects of the composer's idiom. Oramo's positive-thinking geniality works extremely well, especially in this symphony where each Temperament needs to be defined with almost anarchic humour.  Earthy playing from the Royal Stockholm players, with lots of mischevious spark.  Definitely the high point of the whole evening ! 


The Prom began with Andrea Tarrodi's Liguria, a world premiere, an atmospheric piece evoking the moods of the landscape or seascape around Liguria. Rich, full bodied sounds, moving on multiple levels at once, as dense and teeming in detail as the ocean is.  A central passage where clarinets, flutes and oboes dance together before lively percussion and pizzicato figures. In a third section, the pace and textures build up before detumesence in sparkling figures, lit by tolling bells.  A very well written piece that deserves to be heard again in a programme that gives it more prominence.

Saturday, 4 March 2017

Siren Call - Oramo, Sibelius Nielsen Glanert

Sinister mysteries of the sea and malevolence! Sakari Oramo and the BBC Symphony Orchestra in a superlative programme: Sibelius Lemminkäinen Suite, Op.22, with Carl Nielsen An Imaginary Journey to the Faroe Islands and Detlev Glanert's Megaris. inspired by ancient legend.  An atmospheric concert so rewarding that it deserves repeat listening - catch it HERE on BBC Radio 3.

This was the UK premiere of Glanert's Megaris: Seestück mit Klage der toten Sirene (2014-15)  It's a fascinating piece that takes as a starting point the legend that Partenope, the siren, washed up dead on the rocks at Megaris, once an island off the coast of Sicily, now part of the conurbation.  Sirens don't exist, except in myth, but are powerful symbols. They're also pagan. Yet Partenope's relics are supposedly buried in a church on the fortress of Castel dell'Ovo on rocks which jut onto the sea.  Contradictions! Thus layers of myth and meaning, which Glanert incorporates into the complex, shifting textures of his music. Megaris is elusive, but seductive, like the sirens whose songs drove mortals to their deaths. Partenope died because she failed in her mission:  Odysseus escaped by blocking his ears. Partenope's death is romantic and a lure for tourists. But bodies still wash up on shores all over the Mediterranean. Do we listen to their voices?   Far too often, audiences block out new music on principle, lest they be seduced and change, but Glanert's Megaris is compelling.  

From offstage, hidden singers  (the BBC Singers) intone strange harmonies. the lines long, keening, stretching out into space. The orchestra responds. Timpani are beaten in solemn progression, high winds cry plaintively, flying over massed strings and massed choral voices, singing a wordless chorus of vowel sounds.  The pace quickens and the orchestra breaks into a flurry of dissonances, the percussion adding menace, the strings whipped into frenzy. Yet the voices won't be silenced, singing short, sharp sounds, as if imitating the orchestral passage that went before. A strange stillness descends. the voices hum as do the strings: haunting, seamless abstract sound from which the voices materialize. led by the sopranos.  A subtle interplay of tonal colour. The voices then rise, singing short, urgent phrases and the orchestra flies back to life with complex cross-currents. O-A-O-E,, the voices sing, urgently. Another violent tutti, ending with a crash of cymbals before a mysterious stillness descends : silvery, circulating sounds lit by brass, the voices now whispering surreal chant.  The crash of a gong: then a solo soprano, calling wordlessly into the void.  Atmospheric, magical, beautiful, yet also unsettling.  Lots more on Glanert on this site, please explore. 

The four legends in Sibelius Lemminkäinen Suite describe the adventures of Lemminkäinen in the epic saga of the Kalevala. Oramo's approach was fresh and lively, suggesting the young hero's erotic vigour. The Kalevala isn't prissy!  This highlighted the contrast between the hero and the Swan of  Tuonela, the mysterious symbol of the Island of the Dead.  Unlike other birds, a swan does not sing until it dies, so killing the swan implies some mystical rite. Lemminkäinen, like Parsifal, thinks he can kill a swan, but in the process is killed himself and brought back to life. The Lemminkäinen Suite is much more than programme music.  The swan's "voice" is the cor anglais, solemn, mournful and seductive, perhaps not so different from a siren.  Beautiful playing from the BBC SO's soloist.  In the final section, Lemminkäinen's Return, Oramo brought out depth of meaning. The hero is restored, but he's strong because he's learned along the way. 

Oramo is emerging as a major interpreter of Carl Nielsen, having conducted a lot of Nielsen with the BBC SO in recent years. This performance of Nielsen's  An Imaginary Journey to the Faroe Islands (1927) was authoritative, and very individual.  The five sections in this piece form an arc, tone poem as miniature symphony, in a way. Oramo accentuated the contrast between movements which gives the piece such élan. The lugubrious undercurrents in the first section speed up as land approaches, quirky little flourishes from the winds suggesting sea birds on the coast.  This music has the feel of the seas, the orchestra surging as if propelled by powerful waves. Can we hear in the dances echoes of hardy Lutheran chorale? Nielsen had a wry sense of humour, as does Oramo. Perhaps that's why they suit each other so well.  Bracing stuff !

Tuesday, 2 August 2016

Spooky Sounds Prom 23 Widmann Schumann Sibelius Nielsen

Prom 23, with John Storgårds and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra, began with an extremely eclectic programme : Jörg Widmann's Armonica, with Robert Schumann's Violin Concerto in D minor, followed by the Overture to Sibelius The Tempest and Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 5.

The glass harmonica (seen at right being played by soloist Christa  Schönfeldinger) is an instrument consisting  of 20 to 54 blown crystal or quartz bowls  fitted concentrically onto a rotating rod controlled by a pedal reminiscent of a treadle sewing machine. Sound is created by the player rubbing their wetted fingers on the edges of these. It can be tuned, but its distinctive wailing drone is so strange that it can be used to create sounds that suggest forces beyond the control of nature.  Mozart heard it performed by a blind musician, Marianne Davies, who specialized in its use, being introduced to her by her opera-singer sister whilst he was rehearsing Idomeneo. He went on to create the short solo work  Adagio K356/617a from which Widmann took his inspiration.  Thus Widmann instructs the soloist to sing into the sound waves produced by rubbing the instrument, so the singing voice itself distorts, much in the way a voice sounds strange when you blow into a bowl.  Widmann amplifies the effect of glass harmonica and voice with an accordion with Teodoro Anzellotti, the accordionist of choice these days. Like the glass harmonica, the accordion transform invisible airwaves into sound: both instruments "breathing" and singing like strange alien beings. Indeed, the glass harmonica  was believed by many to induce insanity and even demonic possession.  Donizetti employed it in Lucia di Lammermoor, where its surreal drone would have added an extra frisson of danger to early performances, enhancing dramatic impact. The full impact may be lost on modern audiences used to horror movies and the ondes martenot, but the glass harmonicas still serve to suggest alien forces and the breakdown of tonality. Thus it's not surprising that there are quite a few players around these days, and new repertoire for the instrument.

Widmann's Armonica makes the most of the instrument's ability to create long lines, wailing and probing space, buffeted by the wheeze of the accordion. Armonica is a well integrated piece you can enjoy as music regardless of instrumentation. It is more convincing than Michael Berkeley's Violin Concerto, heard earlier this week. Berkeley used tabla and other exotic instruments for a genuine purpose, in memory of his late wife, but I suspect the piece was somewhat ambitious.

Clara Schumann, Brahms and Joseph Joachim thought that Robert Schumann's Violin Concerto WoO23 (1853) should be suppressed for 100 years after the composer's death. .  Perhaps they were right, because its bizarre sonics and wailing timbre might have seemed disturbing at the time, especially given the fear of mental illness that prevailed before modern psychiatry.  Bizarrely, it was revived after Joachim's grand nieces were supposedly contacted by Schumann's ghost in a  seance in 1933.  In comparison the strangeness of the Violin Concerto might not be so mad after all. Certainly, nowadays we can better appreciate its quirky originality and mystical strangeness.   Thomas Zehetmair played it exquisitely, letting its legato flow with seductive - and dangerous -  langour.  It's a remarkable work, a tantalizing insight as to where Schumann might have headed creatively had time, and health, been on his side.

More eclectic music followed. Sibelius's The Tempest Op90 (1926) is, in its own way, every bit as singular as his Symphony no 7 and Tapiola.  It is music of such character that Eric Tawaststjerna has suggested that part of the reason Sibelius suppressed what might have been his Symphony no.8 was that his creative visions were raised so high that he couldn't be satisfied with anything but ultimate perfection.  The Overture, which we heard here, sets the stage so to speak for a play based on Shakespeare's The Tempest.  Large orchestral forces, describing the driving winds of the storm at sea which throws Prospero and Caliban together - a storm of supernatural, cosmic forces, strings swirling with demonic violence, rolling percussion, wailing brass, undercut by shafts of brightness, suggesting magic and caprice.  As the "storm" clears, shimmering strings suggest swathes of diaphanous light, rising heavenwards, floating as if propelled by invisible winds.  But the "storm" returns, even more savagely, trumpets and brass ablaze, timpani thundering, strings screaming fury.  John Storgårds conducted the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra with such clean definition that the colours shone, intensifying the dramatic contrasts inherent in the music. The adaptation of the play can't have lived up to its incidental music. For Storgårds, the BBC PO play better than they do for almost any other conductor, and this is his core repertoire. The only full recording of Sibelius The Tempest conducted by Osmo Vänskä,  doesn't even come close.  Until Storgårds or someone of his calibre does the full Tempest, we won't be hearing its full impact.

Storgårds is also a specialist in the works of Carl Nielsen, so his account of Nielsen's Symphony no 5 Op 50 1922 was something to look forward to after a somewhat pallid performance in 2012 (Vänskä and a somewhat better one in 2014. (Søndergård).  The first movement begins in relative peace soon interrupted with drumbeats and a march, interspersed with fragile  flickering figures which suggest tension.  Although Denmark was neutral in the First World War, Nielsen, despite his sunny disposition, had no illusions about the way the war had changed things. This movement ends with a chill, which hangs over the relatively more expansive passages that follow.  The flickering figures stll haunt the piece, and the hollow beating of drums.  Trumpets call, from a distance, the drums ricochet like machine gun fire.   The strings soar upwards and silence descends again heralded by a solemn oboe, singing a plaintive lament.   For a moment, we hold a breath, before the orchestra explodes with a wild scherzo which introduces the second movement. Tense, jagged angles flailing across the strings: as if fields were being mowed with a giant scythe,  the crop not wheat nor corn.  So much for the notion of Nielsen as pastoralist.  Crashing timpani, whizzing figure speed past with demented fury.   A new theme emerges, like a grotesque dance, squat and crude, mocking the angular driving measures.   Yet again, diminuendos descend. For a moment,  a kind of chill calm prevails, but the strings rise upwards again,  but there is no resolution.  The pounding percussion and angular chords return and the pace once again becomes manic.  I thought about the famous photo of Nielsen knitting, the repetitive rhythm soothing his nerves and slowing his heart rate. Astonishingly good performance - Storgårds is a tonic for the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra. He raises the bar for them, and they respond.

Friday, 4 September 2015

Prom 64 Søndergård BBCNOW

At Prom 64, Thomas Søndergård conducted the BBC National Orchestra of Wales. Like many organisations, orchestras can go throughout a period in the doldrums. Something interesting has been happening in Cardiff.  The BBC NOW are sounding reinvigorated and refreshed. Their Prom in July under Xian Zhang (read more here) showed them in excellent form. Under Søndergård, their  Chief Conductor, they're even livelier, as shown in their Carl Nielsen's Aladdin Suite, (1919)  incidental music for the play Aladdin. Did the original play include dance?  The music suggests a kind of kinetic energy that demands physical expression. The BBC NOW played with such muscular animation, that the piece seemed to levitate, infinitely more interesting than the rather generic images evoked in the titles.

Thus we were prepared for the explosion that is B Tommy Andersson's  Pan. What a showpiece this is, making full use of the Royal Albert Hall organ and the sense of occasion that is the essence of the Proms.  Grand fortes suddenly transforming into delicate ppp's, from which a solo violin emerges, lit by bell-like sonorities, introducing a lovely flute melody. This is Pan, doing his individualist thing, surrounded by nature. Yet Pan is part man, part goat, and symbolizes animal instincts. So the music rises to riotous crescendo, the organ (David Goode) dancing joyously with the orchestra. Gosh this was good fun, and very well executed too. On a First Night, this would have knocked the audience out, in a good way.. Pan is a welcome change from the corporate mediocrity that curses so much newly written but not new music at the Proms

The BBC NOW's new, punchy liveliness paid off handsomely in Nielsen and Andersson but worked less well for Mahler's Symphony no 4. This symphony isn't, as once described, a "vision of heaven for Catholic omnivores". The text refers to physical,pleasure. food and plenty, but the protagonist is a dead child.  Please read my article "Why greedy kids in Mahler 4" here.

This symphony is so very different in character from Aladdin and Pan that Søndergård  and the BBC NOW took a while to get into their stride. There wasn't much sense of direction in the first movement, though the demonic sforzando quirkiness in the scherzo was  well defined, as were several incidental details. There's no reason why this section shouldn't sound jolly, as it's marked behaglich. The soloist, Clara Ek,  has sung this many times with Bernard Haitink, who also favours the womanly warmth of Christianne Stotijn.  Ek's vibrato enriched her performance but I would have preferred something more elusive..


Friday, 21 August 2015

Prom 46 Carl Nielsen Fabio Luisi, Danish National Symphony Orchestra

Carl Nielsen Prom 46 at the Royal Albert Hall, London, with Fabio Luisi conducting the Danish National Symphony Orchestra.  Nielsen's no stranger to the Proms : Barbirolli conducted Nielsen's  Symphony no 4 "The Inextinguishable " in 1965, but this programme included relative rarities like Hymnus amoris, and culminated in an outstanding Nielsen Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments".

This Prom began with a "golden dawn", Nielsen's Helios Overture, ()p 17, 1903). Nielsen said, "My Overture describes the movement of the sun through the heavens from morning to evening".  It's gloriously atmospheric, yet the composer was careful to add that it was merely titled "Helios" (the God of the Sun) and was more than pictorial. "Light, darkness, Sun and Rain are almost the same as Credo, Crucifixus, Gloria and so on".  The horns inn the first section sounded primeval, suggesting ancient instruments. Shimmering strings,  rising upwards, dissolving into rapturously refined textures. Much more sophisticated than straightforward "pictorial" music.

Helios thus heralded Brahms Violin Concert in D Major with Nikolaj Znaider as soloist. This was exqusitely played, Znaider's virtuosic refinement nicely haloed by the richness in the orchestra.  Luisi doesn't officially take over as Principal Conductor of the Danish National Symphony Orchestra until 2017, but he's worked with them for five years already.  This performance promises great things to come. In my eagerness to hear more Nielsen, I didn't pay enough attention to Brahms at first, but enjoyed it immensely on repeat broadcast.   This was a very long evening, (nearly 3 hours) determined, I think by the practical logistics of bringing in two choirs, including the Danish National Concert Choir, whose Nielsen Three Motets  (Op 55, 1930)  were beautifully nuanced, but the Brahms is a heavyweight piece that needs to be heard without much else around it.

It was good to hear the Three Motets with Nielsen's Hymnus amoris (Op 12, 1897)  Hymnus amoris is ambitious, scored for large orchestra, choir, a childrens' choir (Winchester Cathedral Choristers ) and  four soloists. The four sections are programmatic, tracing a person's life from childhood to old age, though structurally it's cohesive.  Nielsen was thinking in terms of polyphony and counterpoint, as evidenced in the orchestral and choral writing. However, the soprano part is relatively unadorned..  How good it was to hear Anna Lucia Richter, whom I first heard at the Wigmore Hall three and a half years ago. (more here) She's good.  Hymnus amoris was inspired by a Titian painting The Miracle of a Jealous Husband, the "wife" is more dominant. Richter's voice negotiates the sweeping curlicues in the long lines with finesse.  The Three Motets are more sophisticated and better written, but Hymnus amoris has charm.

Although I've always liked Nielsen's music, I used to wonder why I couldn't access its darkest depths until I realized that Nielsen is Nielsen, not Mahler, or Sibelius, or Janáček or Debussy, all of them his direct contemporaries. No obvious angst, nor grandeur, nor panoramic vision, but instead  deceptively simple good humour. Few composers could have posed for the comic portraits pictured here.  On the surface, Nielsen doesn't take himself seriously, but his well-balanced humanity  is a much underrated virtue. 

Nielsen's Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments" (Op 16, 1902)  is programmatic in that its four movements describe four temperaments - Choleric, Phlegmatic, Melancholic and Sanguine. In "Choleric", the Allegro comodo e flemmatico, for example, lines are drawn out and repeated like a personality who prefers inertia but is nonetheless harried on by the forward thrust of Nielsen's musical logic.  It's interesting how the last movement whips along with great freedom. Perhaps it's Nielsen's own signifier. But it's fun,  psychologically observant, and translated into abstract musical form.  Wonderfully vivacious playing.  The encore was The Dance of the Cockerels from Nielsen's opera Maskarade, about which I've written here).

Thursday, 23 July 2015

Prom 7 Hugh Wood Nielsen Ravel Delius Davis

At BBC Prom 7, Andrew Davis and the BBC SO gave the world premiere of Hugh Wood's Epithalamion.  New music has always featured at the Proms. Sir Henry Wood premiered Schoenberg. Some new music becomes immortal, some falls by the wayside, some is rediscovered by later generations.  Even Bach.The Prom began with Delius's In a Summer Garden. Gardens never remain the same.  Change is a natural process that cannot be halted.  And so, too, in music. Many Proms premieres these days play safe and beget mediocrity, but Hugh Wood's  Epithalamion  is genuinely new, and refreshing.

At the age of 83, Hugh Wood's creative powers are, if anything, refreshed. Epithalamion  is one of the composer's most ambitious works yet, imaginative and beautifully constructed. The title refers to the procession of a bride to her bridal chamber. Cue the idea of flowers, happiness, and the promise of renewed fertility. The text comes from John Donne's poem of the same name celebrating a royal wedding in 1613, but the concept is universal: procreation as a metaphor for endless change and regrowth.

The voices of the BBC Symphony Chorus call out, long, soaring bright lines, impatient excitement.. Wonderful circular lines in the orchestra, curving like an embrace. Glorious bells, hushed anticipation. Donne employs images of birds, including "the husband cock".  The newlyweds are "Two phoenixes, whose joined breasts /Are unto one another mutual nests,/Where motion kindles such fires as shall give" Lines stretch out and converge, commingling with fervour. A magnificent, dramatic interlude at mid point where the orchestra seems to explode into joyous fanfare, given depth by rumbling gongs and two harps,  with suggestions of night, stars and darkness. . In the fifth section, male and female choruses separate and merge, from which arises the voice of the soloist, Rebecca Bottone, one of the finest character sopranos in the business, with a particularly fresh, energetic style. A single male voice rises from the chorus and the music surrounding takes on quite explicit sensual frisson. This is seriously good, sophisticated writing for voice, the separate parts distinct yet well blended, sometimes hushed, sometimes triumphant, but vividly dramatic and tightly scored. Epithalamion should become a regular Proms favourite.

Cylcic figures also enliven  Carl Nielsen's Clarinet Concerto (1928). The clarinet moves like a living organism, with adventurous dynamic leaps and contrasts.  Mark Simpson's playing was fluid, capturing Nielsen's open spirit. "I have such free voicing in the instruments" wrote Nielsen of this piece, "that I really have no idea how it will sound".  Hence the cadenzas and boisterous inventiveness, captured by Davis and the BBC SO and ravishing BBC Symphony Chorus with great aplomb. Back to the theme of sensual love in a vernal setting with Ravel's Daphnis et Chloé Suite no 2, Lusciously played. I'm glad that Prom 7 of 2015 was one of my top Proms picks.

This Prom is available for 30 days on the BBC website and will also be broadcast on TV from 30 July.

Saturday, 18 July 2015

First Night of the Proms 2015 A Feast of Belshazzars


First Night of the BBC Proms 2015 with Sakari Oramo in exuberant form, pulling off William Walton''s Belshazzar's Feast with the theatrical flair it deserves. It''s a grand blockbuster on a biblical theme, but it's by no means part of conventional British choral tradition  Elgar, who was still alive when this was written in 1931, could not have tried anything like it at the Three Choirs Festival, and Benjamin Britten, I suspect, would have cringed at its excess. But think back to Facade: an Entertainment, (more HERE) with which Walton burst to notoriety barely six years before the BBC commissioned him to write for orchestra of "not more than 15 players". Instead Walton created the extravaganza that is Belshazzar's Feast. 

The BBC SO trombones blasted a single, savage wail. Did we hear the sound of ancient Biblical trumpets?  "Thus spake Isaiah", sang the male chorus. but the word "Isaiah" oscillated with oddly bluesy flourish. "How shall we sing the Lord's song in a strange land? "  Oramo's ear for quirky detail highlighted how Walton adapted the zeitgeist of the Jazz Age to underline the sense of dislocation the Hebrews felt in a new and alien world.  The saxophone, the angular percussion,  the slithering  swathes in the choral parts and even the brass bands are there for a reason.

Christopher Maltman delivered the passage "Babylon was a great city" with such ferocious bite that his voice bounced off the walls of the Royal Albert Hall. The part is created completely without accompaniment to demonstrate the austere values of the Hebrew God.  The massed voices of the  BBC National Chorus of Wales, the BBC Singers and the BBC Symphony Chorus were impressive, but the heart of the cantata takes place in near silence.  Maltman described the mysterious Writing on the Wall in hushed, horrified tones. When the choruses and orchestra resumed, the crosscurrents and interweaving they made, literally, "a joyful noise", complete with a merry, jaunty dance.

Jean Sibelius's Belshazzar's Feast (1906-7) may not be scored for voice, but is highly theatrical nonetheless. Originally written as incidental music for a play,the Suite (Opus 51) unfolds like a series of miniature tone poems, each vividly expressive. The first ,"Oriental Procession" sounds exotic in the way so much western music adopts Orientalism for colour, but Oramo brought out its connection to other Sibelius works.  The prancing bell-like sounds reminded me of the "sleigh" music in which Kullervo's sister rides, clothed in finery on her fateful journey.  The slow movements, though, are even more poetic, particularly the haunting "Solitude" with its melancholy part for solo flute. The dotted rhythms and swirling lines  suggest Nightride and Sunrise. The clarinet parts were played sensually. Spoken words or sung text were rendered unneccssary in he expressive beauty of Sibelius's music. 

The theatrical theme of this First Night of the Proms began with the Overture to Carl Nielsen's opera Maskarade (read more here)   Oramo has been conducting Nielsen symphonies with the BBC SO for some time, so this performance sparkled with vivacious charm and wit.  Perhaps they should do more music theatre. Dadaville, a premiere by Gary Carpenter (b 1951) was disappointingly derivative, added perhaps to fill some BBC quota of works that are newly written but not necessarily new. Fireworks as part of performance might work in something more original, but not in this case. Thankfully, Lars Vogt was a fine soloist in Mozart's Piano Concerto no 20 in D minor K466, well supported by Oramo and the BBC Symphony Orchestra. .

 

Wednesday, 15 July 2015

Carl Nielsen Maskarade Kasper Holten Copenhagen


Denmark has produced many composers, from Nils Gade to  Per Nørgård, and more, but Carl Nielsen is perhaps the best known. This year, the 150th anniversary of his birth, his music is being honoured all over the world. In the UK alone, we've had two major cycles of his symphonies (Oramo and Storgårds).  The First Night of the BBC Proms this year features the famous Overture to Nielsen's opera, Maskarade.  In Denmark, Nielsen has iconic status. The Royal Danish Opera (Det Kongelige Teater) revived the celebrated Kasper Holten production from 2006. It's available on DVD but you can hear this year's performance recorded live this April for free, HERE on BBC Radio 3

If anything, the 2015 performance is even livelier and more spirited, which suits the opera very well.   Unlike Nielsen's Saul og David (which I wrote about here),  Maskarade is bright and fluffy, with deliberate references to Mozart, in the music as well as in the plot.  A mask disguises identity, and a masked ball is an opportunity for adventure and intrigue. Masters and servants mix as equals. Rich men and thieves (sometimes one and the same) mingle undetected. Fantasy reigns and social order can be overturned.

Kasper Holten's Maskarade was created when he was Director of the Copenhagen Opera. It has some of the character of his acclaimed Wagner Ring, although the down to earth domesticity works even better in Maskarade.  Leander (Niels Jørgen Riis) wakes after an all-night party. His bedroom's askew, his bed upright. Henrik (Johan Reuter) helps him sober up. Henrik is Leander's minder, though Leander's family isn't as rich as they were. Henrik has aspirations, he's more couth than Leporello. He bursts into Latin from time to time. But he's a valet, for all that. Leander's fallen in love with a mystery girl he met at a masked ball, so he rebels when his father Jeronimus (Stephen Milling) wants him to marry a girl who can restore the family fortunes.  As Jeronimus, head of the formerly wealthy household, sings: "Once we knew our proper station, husband, wife, daughter, son, high born, low born, all the nation"....youth would never need upbraiding........now it's all masquerading. Now it's all equality!" 

As it turns out the intended bride Leonora (Anne Margrethe Dahl) fancies Leander too, but the pair don't realize that their parents' plot might unintentionally work out right. But meanwhile, good natured wit, in the music with its witty refrains and in the visuals. Pretentious folk wear coloured eye masks , while earthy folks like Henrik walk around in a T-shirt (though he, too wears a mask when he sings a parody of Jeronimus's s "masquerading" aria). Masks off when Leander and Leonora sing their magical love duet. At the ball, masks aren't needed either - everyone's dressed up as someone they'd like to be. Acrobats sail down from the rafters. A jolly time is had by all.  An even funnier scene where Leander and Leonore celebrate suburban domestic bliss with a barbecue and plastic furniture. Henrik, dressed as Elvis, seduces Leonore's maid ! This, I think perfectly captures the spirit of Carl Nielsen.  Maskarade is Die Fledermaus without the cynical undercurrent of viciousness. It's not grandiose or maudlin, but quirky, tolerant kindness. The booing lynch mob at Covent Garden will never understand.

Please also see my piece on Carl Nielsen's Saul og David "Not a butter cookie"  HERE

This Saul og David is also available on BBC Radio 3

Sunday, 7 June 2015

Not a butter cookie - Carl Nielsen Saul og David, Royal Danish Opera


Det Kongelige Teater, Copenhagen, celebrates the 150th anniversary of Denmark's most famous composer, Carl Nielsen, with a new production of Saul og David.  Watch a video trailer and read more HERE.  Listen to the audio-only broadcast on BBC Radio 3 HERE. Definitely worth listening to, because it's superlative. Everyone's inspired, knowing the significance of the occasion. Nielsen himself played in the orchestra in this very house, which may also have a bearing.

Nielsen's Maskarade may be better known but this performance makes a powerful case for  Saul og David.  Michael Schønwandt conducts.  He's conducted a lot of Nielsen's orchestral work, hence the authoritative confidence he brings.  While Maskarade is light hearted (though deeper than one assumes), Saul og David seems to come straight from the hard rockface of personal conviction.  Considering that Nielsen was a man of the theatre, it's surprising that Saul og David makes no compromises for popular taste. It's a bitter tale, though highly dramatic. King Saul is cursed and young David triumphs. The music is spartan, so singular that it's a jolt to realize it's more or less contemporary with Madama Butterfly, Kashchey the Immortal and Salome. That, though, is part of its charm, for Nielsen was a rugged individualist, with what has been described as a "homespun" philosophy of music. Although he wasn't specially religious he would have been familiar with the aesthetics of  Lutheran piety, where the Bible provided moral and spiritual compass. There aren't many Scandinavian operas, though there  have always been many Scandinavian singers.

Schønwandt gets the right balance between rough-hewn strength and emotional finesse, drawing from Johann Reuter perhaps the finest performance in his career. Reuter's Saul is finely nuanced and sensitively modulated, bringing out the complexities of Saul's personality, Niels Jørgen Riis sings David, his clear, bright tenor suggesting David's youth and  beauty. But the warmth of Riis's expression makes the listener feel that David's magnanimity is genuinely sincere. Reuter and Riis have been working together for years, so the dynamic between them feels effortless.  Recently I was watching Nielsen's Maskarade , directed by Kasper Holten for Det Kongelige Teater,  in which Reuter sings Henrik to Riis's Leander.  Because they're so good together, the comedy could flow naturally and unforced, which matters in an opera like Maskarade which predicates on lightness of touch and gentle good humour.  Holten's production stressed the homespun intimacy of the piece, which I think suits its understated Mozartean elegance nicely, without being too arch.  This new production of Saul og David was directed by David Pountney, who directed Nielsen's Maskarade for the Royal Opera House in 2005. Saul og David can bear much more forcefully dramatic treatment than Maskarade, so perhaps Pountney's style will work well.

Thursday, 16 January 2014

Barbican 2014-15 (2) BBCSO plus

There's hope for classical music in London!  The Barbican 2014-2015 season is a lot stronger than it looks at first glance. It's a relief to get away from gimmicks and back to "own curated" series created by musicians rather than marketing men.

To prove the point, the Barbican is hosting a traverse of Carl Nielsen's symphonies, where Sakari Oramo will be conducting the BBCSO.  Starting on 11/10, (running til May)  the Nielsen series complements Rattle's Sibelius series with the Berliner Philharmoniker which runs from 10-12 February 2015. That's inspired programming ! It will be interesting to compare and contrast two of the greatest Scandinavian composers, performed by two of the best bands and conductors in the genre.

The BBCSO is perhaps the backbone of the Barbican because its resources are so big that it can draw on a wide range of conductors and specialities and forms. Plenty of mainstream concerts ahead, spiced up, in BBC tradition, with excursions into new-ish music.  They're doing a John Tavener Total Immersion on 8/10 supplemented with extra concerts by the Britten Sinfonia and the BBC Singers.

Even more important (and more my thing) is the Boulez at 90 on 21 March 2015. Hopefully Boulez will be present, but even if he's not, this will be not to be missed under any circumstances, since François-Xavier Roth is conducting Pli selon Pli, Notation I-IV and VII, Éclat/Multiples and Piano Sonata no 2. Roth is a quirky but very original conductor. I've not heard him do Boulez before but I think we can count on him. Read my account of  Pli selon Pli with Boulez, Hannigan and Ensemble Intercontemporain when they did it in October 2011, which may have beeen Boulez's last concert before his illness. Then on 28/4/15 Ensemble Intercontemporain themselves come to the Barbican conducted by Matthias Pinscher, doing Sur incises, Mémoriale, a Pintscher piece and a Boulez favourite, Debussy Syrinx. Unmissable. Barbara Hannigan is singing two concerts with the Britten Sinfonia on 6 and 7 May.

Wolfgang Rihm was the subject of a Total Immersion a few years ago (read more on this site)  Now he gets a second Total Immersion, based around the UK premiere of his Tutuguri on 31/1. Kent Nagano makes a rare UK appearance conducting the BBCSO which alone will be a draw. Hopefully, Rihm himself will be at the talks, because he's a character.
 
The BBC Singers are another of the assets that come with the BBC's association with the Barbican. This year, they're giving even more concerts than usual and some very challenging programmes too, including a keynote James MacMillan concert on 12/2/15, part of the year-long MacMillan series which also features the Britten Sinfonia. Even  more adventurously, they'll be singing Unsuk Chin's Alice in Wonderland on 8/3/15 in a Netia Jones video semi staging.I thought the original Munich straging (with the big eyeballs) was by far the best part of the opera, so who kmows? We might be lucky if the edition performed is the one by Lloyd Moore, first heard in Santa Fe; the thing with new music is that things take time to settle. For every Barry, Dean or Muhly who gets big money backing there must be many others writing good music that we don't get to hear. But the business has always been this way: it's nothing new.

Joyce DiDonato, Mathias Goerne and Ian Bostridge ensure that  vocal music will be well served this year. I'm also booking quicksmart for Smetana's Dalibor on 2nd May 2015. This was once a huge hit, conducted by Mahler, no less. Jirí Belohlávek returns to the BBCSO with his loyal Prague singers.  Belohlávek brought so much Czech repertoire to Britain that it was a dark day for true music lovers when he quit. Pretty boy pianists are a dime a dozen, but there are very few truly specialist conductors with such a passionate and idiomatic feel for unusual repertoire.

Tomorrow, I'll write about the Barbican's Early Music and Baroque plans for 2014-2015 and the Academy of Ancient Music. Please come back, because the Barbican is proving to be London's greatest centre for this repertoire.

Also see an overview of the Barbican 2014-15 season with an emphasis on the LSO and international orchestras

And a guide to the Barbican's Blockbuster Baroque season coming up