This is the full review in Opera Today of the Verdi Rigoletto Live from Mantua with Placido Domingo - polished and tightened up. Please click on the blue text, it's a link, with photos. I do a lot about film and miusic. Please also read with Paolo Gavanelli's comments on the role here.
Don't forget, the FULL broadcast can still be heard on demand online on BBCTV2 and other stations in Europe. The BBC have just introduced extra high quality HD, which is magnificent. PLEASE ALSO see my other posts on this unique production, including the latest, written after seeing the film broadcast again without chat and without breaks. At last it is revealed as an excellent dramatic piece of cinema !
"Tradition ist nicht die Anbetung der Asche, sondern die Bewahrung und das Weiterreichen des Feuers" - Gustav Mahler
Wednesday, 8 September 2010
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
First Carmens Habanera 1905 ?
Click here for a link to a recording of the Habanera, made in 1905. Mlle Jeanne Marié de l L'isle (1872-1926) sings the Habanera from Bizet Carmen.
It's interesting not only because it's so early, but because Mlle de L'isle's aunt and teacher was Célestine Galli-Marié (1840–1905), (pictured left) the first Carmen, who worked with Georges Bizet. Célestine, a star of the Opéra-Comique, was also a friend of Massenet, premiering Charlotte in Werther. Jeanne's grandfather was a very famous bass. Interesting how singers then operated as family businesses. That's how singers as young as Malibran got ahead, making their debuts in their teens. Rare now.
To quote Vincent Giroud :
"What is particularly impressive about (Mlle de L'isle's) interpretation, apart from the perfect execution of vocal ornamentation (including occasional interpolated grace notes), is the lightness of touch and lack of affectation. No tragic femme fatale, she brings to the role, instead, unusual touches of youthfulness and charm, particularly apparent in the Dance—perhaps, one wonders, to her own castanet accompaniment. She “speaks” the role, never shouts it, and for once, Bizet’s expressive direction for the “Card Scene,” “simplement et très également,” is taken literally."
It's interesting not only because it's so early, but because Mlle de L'isle's aunt and teacher was Célestine Galli-Marié (1840–1905), (pictured left) the first Carmen, who worked with Georges Bizet. Célestine, a star of the Opéra-Comique, was also a friend of Massenet, premiering Charlotte in Werther. Jeanne's grandfather was a very famous bass. Interesting how singers then operated as family businesses. That's how singers as young as Malibran got ahead, making their debuts in their teens. Rare now.
To quote Vincent Giroud :
"What is particularly impressive about (Mlle de L'isle's) interpretation, apart from the perfect execution of vocal ornamentation (including occasional interpolated grace notes), is the lightness of touch and lack of affectation. No tragic femme fatale, she brings to the role, instead, unusual touches of youthfulness and charm, particularly apparent in the Dance—perhaps, one wonders, to her own castanet accompaniment. She “speaks” the role, never shouts it, and for once, Bizet’s expressive direction for the “Card Scene,” “simplement et très également,” is taken literally."
Hansel and Gretel Glyndebourne Prom
Glyndebourne normally comes to the Proms at the start of the season, clashing with performances at Lewes. Now it leads the treats nearer the close of the Proms, when we need extra goodies. "Saving for dessert". Not a bad idea with a production of the Humperdinck meringue that reminds us that excess consumerism isn't a good thing.
Concert stagings are an art form. The more rigorous the constraint, the more depends on the wit of the director. No scenery to fall back on. At this Prom, the witch's house was a miniature mock-up of the Royal Albert Hall itself, which does kind of look like a round domed cake. Haha! Resist the temptation to read deeply into that. They didn't do a giant pork barrel. Here is Opera Today's description of Prom 61.
Concert stagings are an art form. The more rigorous the constraint, the more depends on the wit of the director. No scenery to fall back on. At this Prom, the witch's house was a miniature mock-up of the Royal Albert Hall itself, which does kind of look like a round domed cake. Haha! Resist the temptation to read deeply into that. They didn't do a giant pork barrel. Here is Opera Today's description of Prom 61.
Monday, 6 September 2010
Gavanelli on Rigoletto tessitura
Paolo Gavanelli has created Rigoletto well over 200 times in many different productions including the very dark 2001 version at the Royal Opera House where he was dressed in black leather, scuttling across the stage on sticks, like a sinister black spider. This is what he told me about the tessitura:“If you think about what Rigoletto did, he is like a monster for keeping his daughter hidden like a prisoner, but if you look at the tessitura in the first act it’s very, very high for a baritone. When a baritone sings that high, it’s disturbing, like having a stick in your body, something’s not right. Then in the second act, the tone is real baritone, in the middle register. That’s when you discover the real nature of Rigoletto. Then, at the end, the fermata are very low, for he is coming close to finding out his daughter is dead.. It’s cupo, very dark. It’s perfect. Verdi has designed the character”.
Gavanelli sings Rigoletto again at the Royal Opera House, soon. PLease see my post on Rigoletto live Mantua Domingo
photo credit : IMG Artists
Rigoletto Mantua Domingo
RAI's live TV film transmission from Mantua of Rigoletto should please those who think opera "must" belong to a specific time and place and can never be updated. What better then than Rigoletto shot in the exact spots Verdi thought about, and even at the right time of day? Scenery like this wouldn't be possible in the theatre.There never will be anything more authentic. PLEASE READ THE NEW IMPROVED REVIEW HERE on Opera Today, It's much better !!!.
Visually this film is truly spectacular - what panoramas, what incredible detail in the interior shots. The "sets" are painted by Mantegna, no less. Gardens shot in natural light, with living hedges. Sixteenth century furnishings. You realize what a warren the complex of buildings round the palace are, a metaphor for the machinations at court. And the phenomenal scale of this production, available in simultaneous broadcast in 148 countries from Japan to South Africa. You have to be impressed by the audacity of the vision. With modern technology and telecommunications, this tops the famous Tosca in Rome 20 years ago, (with real bells and real ramparts but fake suicide), also produced by Andrea Alderman.
Of course Verdi visualized the opera in these surroundings, because they pack a powerful emotional punch on culturally aware Italians (ie every Italian, as they don't grow up not knowing heritage). But opera is drama, not reality and certainly not historical fact.
Plácido Domingo's Simon Boccanegra was an artistic ttriumph because his voice fitted the role perfectly (and wasn't exposed by long arias). As Rigoletto he's more challenged , but again, his acting is so intuitive that he makes Rigoletto a thoroughly interesting person. If this Rigoletto lies somewhat too high and Domingo can't quite make the long legato, so what? Rigoletto is a hunchback, and congenital dwarves don't often have big lung capacity. Domingo's Rigoletto feels like an old man who's sick of life and its twisted games and has nothing left to fall back on but Gilda. There is an evil side to the part which Domingo doesn't develop, but he's extraordinarly moving in the scenes with his daughter. The despised buffo becomes a handsome hero ennobled by his love. Unlike the real nobles around him. As Domingo says before the film, "so the singing isn't perfect, but opera is drama". Another nail in the coffin to the theory that opera is "only" about vocal gymnastics.Please see my post where Paolo Gavanelli discusses the tessitura in Rigoletto - quite relevant for a tenor !
Besides, this was a live performance in the sense that what was shot happened.without lots of takes. The singing was realtime, the orchestra piped in from an auditorium nearby. This accounts for some slight discordance in parts, but that's to be expected, considering the logistics. These certainly aren't studio conditions, so it's silly to even expect clinical perfection. Timing, orchestral clarity, singing and acting aren't studio quality either.
But this performance works, as film. It's completely different from theatrical conventions, so can't be judged in the same terms. Directorial and photographic details play a greater part. There are shots here a theatre-constrained director would kill for. As Rigoletto runs from the courtiers, there's a shot of his anguished face against the famous Mantegna ceiling with its frescoes of cherubs. Everyone knows cherubs from Xmas cards and tourist tat. (click on image to expand). To the Duke, (sexy, fleshy Vittorio Grigolo), the trompe de l'oeil was amusing, particularly if you look close up and see what might have interested someone debauched about the babes. Never look at those angels without thinking. But to Rigoletto this depiction of beauty is painful, constantly mocking his imperfection. For a moment, though, it's as if the golden circle forms a halo round Domingo's head.
There's not much a cloistered teenager can do to express character, so Julia Novikova's Gilda is helped by the production. There are many mysteries about Gilda, often underplayed. She doesn't know her parents' names, and accepts Gualtier Maldè without question. No completely rational girl would suddenly chose to die like this, before she's even lived. Who is she, apart from having inherited her father's extreme personality? Christine Schäfer is the definitive Gilda for me, because her cool exterior suddenly boils over, deranged and heroic at the same time. Paolo Gavanelli (how's that for name dropping) described her to me with the gesture "Wow!"
No chance of that depth with Novikova, who really is very young. But she's shot in a room filled with Lucca della Robbia medallions (real!). This is deliberate because showing her in the context of Madonnas and babies expands her character. Gilda, with her convent-bred religious faith, thinks mindlessly in terms of love, death and sacrifice. Marco Bellochio, the director knows what he's doing. He understands the opera, and brings out its deeper levels. This deserves respect, for it's not something easily done on stage.
Where the live realism falls down is the Third Act, shrouded in darkness. Obviously murky shadows are part of the rationale, but when Ruggerio Raimondi's Sparafucile is obscured, it's not a good idea. Praise be for unnatural light. Perhaps the darkness caused the camera to focus on close ups which can be easily lit. Also, it shifts focus from Domingo's vocal muscles to his facial muscles, which become more mobile and expressive than his voice.
This RIA Mantua Mantova Rigoletto is significant because it shows the possibilities of film in expanding the potential of opera to communicate. We're still in the early stages of discovering what can be done. Although this isn't the most ideal performance, it's a reminder that opera is drama, not narrowly theatre. Ambitious ventures like this prove that surroundings are only part of what goes into making opera dramatic. After this, there can be no more realistic production. That done, we can now focus on the essential drama, which, as Domingo says, is the real business of opera.
A better new version of this article will appear soon in Opera Today.
In the UK the whole opera is available online and on demand on BBCTV til the weekend. Quite possibly also available online in other countries, where facilities exist. Avoid the youtube versions which break up every few minutes and ruin the flow. Horrible sound and incomplete, too.
PLEASE see my newest post on the broadcast on BBCTV4 at Xmas - more emphasis on the cinematic aspects of this production, which grow on you. Minus chit chat and continuity breaks, this Rigoletto is better on repeat viewing.
photo credit
Visually this film is truly spectacular - what panoramas, what incredible detail in the interior shots. The "sets" are painted by Mantegna, no less. Gardens shot in natural light, with living hedges. Sixteenth century furnishings. You realize what a warren the complex of buildings round the palace are, a metaphor for the machinations at court. And the phenomenal scale of this production, available in simultaneous broadcast in 148 countries from Japan to South Africa. You have to be impressed by the audacity of the vision. With modern technology and telecommunications, this tops the famous Tosca in Rome 20 years ago, (with real bells and real ramparts but fake suicide), also produced by Andrea Alderman.
Of course Verdi visualized the opera in these surroundings, because they pack a powerful emotional punch on culturally aware Italians (ie every Italian, as they don't grow up not knowing heritage). But opera is drama, not reality and certainly not historical fact.
Plácido Domingo's Simon Boccanegra was an artistic ttriumph because his voice fitted the role perfectly (and wasn't exposed by long arias). As Rigoletto he's more challenged , but again, his acting is so intuitive that he makes Rigoletto a thoroughly interesting person. If this Rigoletto lies somewhat too high and Domingo can't quite make the long legato, so what? Rigoletto is a hunchback, and congenital dwarves don't often have big lung capacity. Domingo's Rigoletto feels like an old man who's sick of life and its twisted games and has nothing left to fall back on but Gilda. There is an evil side to the part which Domingo doesn't develop, but he's extraordinarly moving in the scenes with his daughter. The despised buffo becomes a handsome hero ennobled by his love. Unlike the real nobles around him. As Domingo says before the film, "so the singing isn't perfect, but opera is drama". Another nail in the coffin to the theory that opera is "only" about vocal gymnastics.Please see my post where Paolo Gavanelli discusses the tessitura in Rigoletto - quite relevant for a tenor !
Besides, this was a live performance in the sense that what was shot happened.without lots of takes. The singing was realtime, the orchestra piped in from an auditorium nearby. This accounts for some slight discordance in parts, but that's to be expected, considering the logistics. These certainly aren't studio conditions, so it's silly to even expect clinical perfection. Timing, orchestral clarity, singing and acting aren't studio quality either.
But this performance works, as film. It's completely different from theatrical conventions, so can't be judged in the same terms. Directorial and photographic details play a greater part. There are shots here a theatre-constrained director would kill for. As Rigoletto runs from the courtiers, there's a shot of his anguished face against the famous Mantegna ceiling with its frescoes of cherubs. Everyone knows cherubs from Xmas cards and tourist tat. (click on image to expand). To the Duke, (sexy, fleshy Vittorio Grigolo), the trompe de l'oeil was amusing, particularly if you look close up and see what might have interested someone debauched about the babes. Never look at those angels without thinking. But to Rigoletto this depiction of beauty is painful, constantly mocking his imperfection. For a moment, though, it's as if the golden circle forms a halo round Domingo's head.
There's not much a cloistered teenager can do to express character, so Julia Novikova's Gilda is helped by the production. There are many mysteries about Gilda, often underplayed. She doesn't know her parents' names, and accepts Gualtier Maldè without question. No completely rational girl would suddenly chose to die like this, before she's even lived. Who is she, apart from having inherited her father's extreme personality? Christine Schäfer is the definitive Gilda for me, because her cool exterior suddenly boils over, deranged and heroic at the same time. Paolo Gavanelli (how's that for name dropping) described her to me with the gesture "Wow!"
No chance of that depth with Novikova, who really is very young. But she's shot in a room filled with Lucca della Robbia medallions (real!). This is deliberate because showing her in the context of Madonnas and babies expands her character. Gilda, with her convent-bred religious faith, thinks mindlessly in terms of love, death and sacrifice. Marco Bellochio, the director knows what he's doing. He understands the opera, and brings out its deeper levels. This deserves respect, for it's not something easily done on stage.
Where the live realism falls down is the Third Act, shrouded in darkness. Obviously murky shadows are part of the rationale, but when Ruggerio Raimondi's Sparafucile is obscured, it's not a good idea. Praise be for unnatural light. Perhaps the darkness caused the camera to focus on close ups which can be easily lit. Also, it shifts focus from Domingo's vocal muscles to his facial muscles, which become more mobile and expressive than his voice.
This RIA Mantua Mantova Rigoletto is significant because it shows the possibilities of film in expanding the potential of opera to communicate. We're still in the early stages of discovering what can be done. Although this isn't the most ideal performance, it's a reminder that opera is drama, not narrowly theatre. Ambitious ventures like this prove that surroundings are only part of what goes into making opera dramatic. After this, there can be no more realistic production. That done, we can now focus on the essential drama, which, as Domingo says, is the real business of opera.
A better new version of this article will appear soon in Opera Today.
In the UK the whole opera is available online and on demand on BBCTV til the weekend. Quite possibly also available online in other countries, where facilities exist. Avoid the youtube versions which break up every few minutes and ruin the flow. Horrible sound and incomplete, too.
PLEASE see my newest post on the broadcast on BBCTV4 at Xmas - more emphasis on the cinematic aspects of this production, which grow on you. Minus chit chat and continuity breaks, this Rigoletto is better on repeat viewing.
photo credit
Sunday, 5 September 2010
La donna è mobile in Mandarin
La donna è mobile in Mandarin - Grace Chang (Ge Lan) See (and hear) why she's such an icon! This comes from the film Wild, Wild Rose which is a retelling of the Carmen story. I'm doing a lot on this film and the whole Carmen meme at the moment and its cultural significance. Carmen is a "modern woman" who isn't appreciated.
Dum Transissets Ferneyhough
A feast of Dum Transissets at Saturday's Prom Matinee, built around Brian Ferneyhough's Dum Transisset I-IV. A whole Prom built around a short string quartet? But Ferneyhough's one of the most interesting European composers around, anything he does is seriously significant. (Book now for the Ferneyhough Total Immersion.) It's been heard at Salzburg, Huddersfield and Berlin, but this was the London premiere. Listen to the The Arditti Quartet on the repeat broadcast (starts at 43.0 minutes).
The reference is Dum transisset Sabbatum, "When the Sabbath hath past", meaning the Sabbath after Jesus's Crucifixion. Jesus has died and been buried. But when his friends go to anoint his body, he appears, alive again. The key mystery in the whole New Testament. As is said in the commentary, the idea is that the Ardittis find their way "like Houdinis" through Ferneyhough's intricate maze.
Four sections which move from statis to horror through rapture to wild freedom: Reliquary, Totentanz, Shadows and Contrafracta. Barely audible tappings, bowings that shape huge twisting contortions, exquisite pppp that makes you listen intently. Maybe the excellent blog 5 against 4 will write about it? He writes about new music in an informed but communicative way, which is good. Part of the reason new music doesn't get through to "ordinary" people is because some of the fraternity likes excluding outsiders. It's not technicality that intimidates (anyone can master that) but the spirit of cliqueyness. That's not fair on the music, much of which is very good indeed. There's no reason mere mortals shouldn't enjoy new music, given encouragement to enjoy and feel.
Perhaps that's why this Prom encased Ferneyhough with other works on the same Risen from the Dead theme. Those accustomed to contemplating the miracle in the New Testament have already acquired contemplative skills and should be able to adapt them to new means of expression. That said, I'd rather have listened to the original Dum Transisset by Christopher Tye (1505?-1572?) which inspired Ferneyhough in the first place. It's much more unearthly and primeval than the latter-day versions included in this Prom.
Luckily, we did get Taverner (the original). I did hear the whole concert through, so maybe I did a Houdini too, since only Ferneyhough (and Taverner) were worth more than one listen. Sorry but I'm definitely no fan of Jonathan Harvey or Thea Musgrave. I could hear where Bayan Northcott was going with his Hymn to Cybele but it was a bit too Birtwistle for me.
The reference is Dum transisset Sabbatum, "When the Sabbath hath past", meaning the Sabbath after Jesus's Crucifixion. Jesus has died and been buried. But when his friends go to anoint his body, he appears, alive again. The key mystery in the whole New Testament. As is said in the commentary, the idea is that the Ardittis find their way "like Houdinis" through Ferneyhough's intricate maze.
Four sections which move from statis to horror through rapture to wild freedom: Reliquary, Totentanz, Shadows and Contrafracta. Barely audible tappings, bowings that shape huge twisting contortions, exquisite pppp that makes you listen intently. Maybe the excellent blog 5 against 4 will write about it? He writes about new music in an informed but communicative way, which is good. Part of the reason new music doesn't get through to "ordinary" people is because some of the fraternity likes excluding outsiders. It's not technicality that intimidates (anyone can master that) but the spirit of cliqueyness. That's not fair on the music, much of which is very good indeed. There's no reason mere mortals shouldn't enjoy new music, given encouragement to enjoy and feel.
Perhaps that's why this Prom encased Ferneyhough with other works on the same Risen from the Dead theme. Those accustomed to contemplating the miracle in the New Testament have already acquired contemplative skills and should be able to adapt them to new means of expression. That said, I'd rather have listened to the original Dum Transisset by Christopher Tye (1505?-1572?) which inspired Ferneyhough in the first place. It's much more unearthly and primeval than the latter-day versions included in this Prom.
Luckily, we did get Taverner (the original). I did hear the whole concert through, so maybe I did a Houdini too, since only Ferneyhough (and Taverner) were worth more than one listen. Sorry but I'm definitely no fan of Jonathan Harvey or Thea Musgrave. I could hear where Bayan Northcott was going with his Hymn to Cybele but it was a bit too Birtwistle for me.
Saturday, 4 September 2010
Rattle Mahler 1 Prom 65 Berliner Beethoven
A week after their concert in Berlin, the Berliner Philharmoniker and Simon Rattle brought Mahler 1 and Beethoven 4 to Prom 65. Silly to nitpick comparisons between performances, though London was more relaxed. Not a bad thing with Mahler's First Symphony and its youthful exuberance.
A ravishing start - extremely quiet, demanding careful attention, for out of the stillness emerge twitches of sound : the music awakes, as nature awakes. The Ging heut' theme rises tentatively, then strides forth confidently, the whole orchestra surging together, Emmanuel Pahud's flute der lust'ge Fink, urging them ever onwards.
Extreme pianissimo, delicately held. The orchestra is listening, like the protagonist in the song, careful not to disturb the dawn. Quavers become cuckoo calls, heard from different directions, as in nature. Steady tempi evoke footsteps, gradually building in vigour, horns call, trumpets zing, and you hear the finch sing Ei, du? Gelt !....Ei Gelt ! Du? So accurately observed, Mahler as Messiaen.
Rattle respects the marking Nicht zu schnell, because it emphasizes the angular walking rhythms. Always the sense of being at one with a wayfarer, alert to the sounds around him. A single double bass, then bassoons and low strings: pre echoes here of Fischpredigt and even a jaunty theme defined by cymbals and timpani : a germ of the Dionysius march from the Third Symphony?
Clapping between movements here would be barbaric. Mahler's silences shape his music. Sturmisch bewegt here was an explosion, all the more cataclysmic because it emerged from a void. This felt dangerous, (especially in Berlin) as if Rattle and the Berliners were teetering dangerously on a precipice, shocked by the immensity of what's before them. The madness of Ein glühend Messer, ein Messer in meiner Brust, glimpsed in alarums, sharp attacks, and edgy cross rhythms.
Rattle plays up the dynamic contrasts, for this outburst is central to the explosion of creative ideas Mahler was embarking upon. On the filmed version in Berlin the camera switches to a close up of the score, lingering on the quiet passage that emerges from the chaos - exceptionally well-informed filming.
Just as the song cycle ends with a vision of warmth, the symphony ends joyfully. Huge, swirling textures from the Berliners, almost too heady to be quite realistic. But that's an insight in itself. This finale is glorious, almost out of proportion to the simple vision of nature with which it begins. Is there a quote, there of Handel ? "He shall reign, he shall reign, he shall reign forever and ever". Village lad as Messiah? The seven horns stand up like a chorus of angels, heard from heaven. But that's what it must have felt like to Mahler, embarking on his journey, conquering his inner demons through his art.
We've all heard dozens of Mahler Firsts but this was exhilarating because it was so well observed and aware. I liked the way Rattle connected Mahler 1 to Beethoven 4, spotlighting the similar beginnings. Since the Friday Berlin broadcast (available on demand) I've come to appreciate Beethoven 4 in connection with Beethoven 6, the "Pastoral", also a vision of nature in the countryside. A storm explodes there, too, but it's cathartic, clearing away rather than merely destructive. Just like Mahler 1
No way could Rattle have programmed Beethoven Fourth after Mahler First, it wouldn't sound right. (Mahler 1 and Beethoven 6 would be too much). But the comparison is relevant on a much deeper musical level than the nonsense about the symphonies being written after love affairs. For composers like Beethoven and Mahler, the main love affairs of their lives was with their creative spirit.
Please see my other posts on Mahler, Mahler 1 etc., including oddball "Mahler and the Tarot" (for Mahler is quite quirky!) . In this anniversary year everyone's carving out their commercial stake in this composer, but I'm just trying to download 40 years of listening experience in the hope it might be useful to others.
A ravishing start - extremely quiet, demanding careful attention, for out of the stillness emerge twitches of sound : the music awakes, as nature awakes. The Ging heut' theme rises tentatively, then strides forth confidently, the whole orchestra surging together, Emmanuel Pahud's flute der lust'ge Fink, urging them ever onwards.
Extreme pianissimo, delicately held. The orchestra is listening, like the protagonist in the song, careful not to disturb the dawn. Quavers become cuckoo calls, heard from different directions, as in nature. Steady tempi evoke footsteps, gradually building in vigour, horns call, trumpets zing, and you hear the finch sing Ei, du? Gelt !....Ei Gelt ! Du? So accurately observed, Mahler as Messiaen.
Rattle respects the marking Nicht zu schnell, because it emphasizes the angular walking rhythms. Always the sense of being at one with a wayfarer, alert to the sounds around him. A single double bass, then bassoons and low strings: pre echoes here of Fischpredigt and even a jaunty theme defined by cymbals and timpani : a germ of the Dionysius march from the Third Symphony?
Clapping between movements here would be barbaric. Mahler's silences shape his music. Sturmisch bewegt here was an explosion, all the more cataclysmic because it emerged from a void. This felt dangerous, (especially in Berlin) as if Rattle and the Berliners were teetering dangerously on a precipice, shocked by the immensity of what's before them. The madness of Ein glühend Messer, ein Messer in meiner Brust, glimpsed in alarums, sharp attacks, and edgy cross rhythms.
Rattle plays up the dynamic contrasts, for this outburst is central to the explosion of creative ideas Mahler was embarking upon. On the filmed version in Berlin the camera switches to a close up of the score, lingering on the quiet passage that emerges from the chaos - exceptionally well-informed filming.
Just as the song cycle ends with a vision of warmth, the symphony ends joyfully. Huge, swirling textures from the Berliners, almost too heady to be quite realistic. But that's an insight in itself. This finale is glorious, almost out of proportion to the simple vision of nature with which it begins. Is there a quote, there of Handel ? "He shall reign, he shall reign, he shall reign forever and ever". Village lad as Messiah? The seven horns stand up like a chorus of angels, heard from heaven. But that's what it must have felt like to Mahler, embarking on his journey, conquering his inner demons through his art.
We've all heard dozens of Mahler Firsts but this was exhilarating because it was so well observed and aware. I liked the way Rattle connected Mahler 1 to Beethoven 4, spotlighting the similar beginnings. Since the Friday Berlin broadcast (available on demand) I've come to appreciate Beethoven 4 in connection with Beethoven 6, the "Pastoral", also a vision of nature in the countryside. A storm explodes there, too, but it's cathartic, clearing away rather than merely destructive. Just like Mahler 1
No way could Rattle have programmed Beethoven Fourth after Mahler First, it wouldn't sound right. (Mahler 1 and Beethoven 6 would be too much). But the comparison is relevant on a much deeper musical level than the nonsense about the symphonies being written after love affairs. For composers like Beethoven and Mahler, the main love affairs of their lives was with their creative spirit.
Please see my other posts on Mahler, Mahler 1 etc., including oddball "Mahler and the Tarot" (for Mahler is quite quirky!) . In this anniversary year everyone's carving out their commercial stake in this composer, but I'm just trying to download 40 years of listening experience in the hope it might be useful to others.
Friday, 3 September 2010
F-X Roth, Rameau, Canteloube, Henry Wood Prom 63
François-Xavier Roth is creating waves because he's such a forthright personality, so individualistic. France seems to produce pioneers like this who follow their artistic integrity. Very different from the increasing conformity of the Anglophone world. France and Germany are where it's at. Roth's exciting because he's eclectic, passionate about early music and new, with a special interest in voice. This may be the "next generation" in music, where ancient and modern fertilize each other. Genre's no barrier to the creative spirit.
Barely 40, Roth has conducted Ensemble Intercontemporain, worked with John Eliot Gardiner's's Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique, and is just about to become chief conductor at SWR Sinfonieorchester Baden-Baden, Hans Rosbaud's old orchestra.
Watch the TV broadcast of Prom 63 if you can, though the audio only is just as vivid, because Roth's got presence as well as vision. Conductors have to be communicators, spreading their enthusiasm to inspire the listener. Nonetheless, it's certainly not for show that Roth conducts the suite of Rameau's Dardanus with an antique drum. That's historically informed. Lully died beating percussion into his foot. The opera Dardanus is a series of tableaux with dance, so rhythmic stability is essential. Percussion is fundamental to dance and to many forms of music that have grown from folk roots. How vivacious Roth makes the BBC National Orchestra of Wales sound! Totally contemporary, yet connected to ancient traditions, even to non-western form. Late 19th century style isn't by any means the only way to go.
Perhaps that's why Roth followed Rameau with Joseph Canteloube's Songs from the Auvergne. Canteloube was interested in the Auvergne because it was so different, less "civilized" than the rest of France, with a singular regional identity. In the mountains, life's harsh. Peasants have to make their own music, so it's timeless. I've long loved Véronique Gens and Sandrine Piau in this repertoire, rather than opera singers who turn to it when their voices age. Now, Anna Caterina Antonacci joins the illustrious. She's excellent because she sounds youthful and vigorous, as befits simple songs about peasant life and the open air. No unnecessary decoration, but pure and direct, and beautiful for that very reason.
Again, genres blur. Canteloube wasn't writing faux medieval. He was writing modern music inspired by the unique Auvergne dialect and character. Not so different, really, from Ravel's Basques or Cezanne's rugged landscapes. Or, for that matter from Ferneyhough's response to early polyphony ( PCM 5) or Luke Bedford's Or voit tout en aventure.
Again, Roth's musical adventure leads to Martin Matalon's Lignes de fuite ("convergence lines"). It moves like a series of visual images - Pictures at an Exhibition, already! Each turn is vivid and colourful, music that's fun to grasp. Immediately I thought, this guy should be writing for film, and sure enough he does. Matalon's wrote a new score for Fritz Lang's Metropolis, commissioned by IRCAM. Since then the film has been restored with newly-discovered footage. This is being screened (with original score) at the ICA from 10th September. I've already seen it and will be writing about it in more depth. It's seminal.
Just as Roth started with Rameau's tableaux, he ended this very intelligent porogramme with Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. But not the familiar Ravel version, but Sir Henry Wood's, created 7 years before Ravel. This was fascinating, ornamentation like heavy gilding, edges neatly smoothed over. The sensibilities of a confident British Empire applied to Mussorgsky's untamed Russianness. The Great Gate of Kiev as the Royal Albert Memorial. And why not? Each era remakes in its own forms, and we learn from hearing things in different ways. Roth's logic works. Mix genres and make more of what you hear.
photo credit : Céline Gaudier
Barely 40, Roth has conducted Ensemble Intercontemporain, worked with John Eliot Gardiner's's Orchestre Revolutionnaire et Romantique, and is just about to become chief conductor at SWR Sinfonieorchester Baden-Baden, Hans Rosbaud's old orchestra.
Watch the TV broadcast of Prom 63 if you can, though the audio only is just as vivid, because Roth's got presence as well as vision. Conductors have to be communicators, spreading their enthusiasm to inspire the listener. Nonetheless, it's certainly not for show that Roth conducts the suite of Rameau's Dardanus with an antique drum. That's historically informed. Lully died beating percussion into his foot. The opera Dardanus is a series of tableaux with dance, so rhythmic stability is essential. Percussion is fundamental to dance and to many forms of music that have grown from folk roots. How vivacious Roth makes the BBC National Orchestra of Wales sound! Totally contemporary, yet connected to ancient traditions, even to non-western form. Late 19th century style isn't by any means the only way to go.
Perhaps that's why Roth followed Rameau with Joseph Canteloube's Songs from the Auvergne. Canteloube was interested in the Auvergne because it was so different, less "civilized" than the rest of France, with a singular regional identity. In the mountains, life's harsh. Peasants have to make their own music, so it's timeless. I've long loved Véronique Gens and Sandrine Piau in this repertoire, rather than opera singers who turn to it when their voices age. Now, Anna Caterina Antonacci joins the illustrious. She's excellent because she sounds youthful and vigorous, as befits simple songs about peasant life and the open air. No unnecessary decoration, but pure and direct, and beautiful for that very reason.Again, genres blur. Canteloube wasn't writing faux medieval. He was writing modern music inspired by the unique Auvergne dialect and character. Not so different, really, from Ravel's Basques or Cezanne's rugged landscapes. Or, for that matter from Ferneyhough's response to early polyphony ( PCM 5) or Luke Bedford's Or voit tout en aventure.
Again, Roth's musical adventure leads to Martin Matalon's Lignes de fuite ("convergence lines"). It moves like a series of visual images - Pictures at an Exhibition, already! Each turn is vivid and colourful, music that's fun to grasp. Immediately I thought, this guy should be writing for film, and sure enough he does. Matalon's wrote a new score for Fritz Lang's Metropolis, commissioned by IRCAM. Since then the film has been restored with newly-discovered footage. This is being screened (with original score) at the ICA from 10th September. I've already seen it and will be writing about it in more depth. It's seminal.
Just as Roth started with Rameau's tableaux, he ended this very intelligent porogramme with Mussorgsky's Pictures at an Exhibition. But not the familiar Ravel version, but Sir Henry Wood's, created 7 years before Ravel. This was fascinating, ornamentation like heavy gilding, edges neatly smoothed over. The sensibilities of a confident British Empire applied to Mussorgsky's untamed Russianness. The Great Gate of Kiev as the Royal Albert Memorial. And why not? Each era remakes in its own forms, and we learn from hearing things in different ways. Roth's logic works. Mix genres and make more of what you hear.
photo credit : Céline Gaudier
Thursday, 2 September 2010
Good for Beyoncé
What's the big deal about Beyoncé being the source of Mark Anthony Turnage's Hammered Out? Turnage has always mixed genres, like his teacher Gunther Schuler. In fact lots of composers have mixed genres, borrowed from each other, recycled from wherever. All this righteous indignation ! Why don't we crucify Engelbert Humperdinck for using the pop tunes of his time in Hansel und Gretel.
Hoho. Although I had never heard of Beyoncé til this week, I managed to spot that Hammered Out was "not scary", "entertaining" and would be a popular hit! And the theme of "exploitation" too!
People are far too uptight about what is and isn't music. Most people who listen to pop don't listen to classical and most who listen to classical don't listen to pop. Thanks to Turnage and Beyoncé the barriers are exposed for what they really are. This one's a bit too close for comfort but what a laugh! Maybe Turnage should retitle it "Variations on a Theme From Beyoncé", though there's not all that much variation. There's good music and bad, but that's not necessarily dictated by genre.
One thing I did wonder, though was why they followed that sublime Barber concerto with Sibelius ? Bernstein might have been a better choice, especially Bernstein 2 "The Age of Anxiety" which mixes genres too - jazz, Broadway and mainstream classical. Robertson conducted this wonderfully a few years ago, really making sense of the piece and restoring respect for Bernstein's strange mindset. Much better fit.
Hoho. Although I had never heard of Beyoncé til this week, I managed to spot that Hammered Out was "not scary", "entertaining" and would be a popular hit! And the theme of "exploitation" too!
People are far too uptight about what is and isn't music. Most people who listen to pop don't listen to classical and most who listen to classical don't listen to pop. Thanks to Turnage and Beyoncé the barriers are exposed for what they really are. This one's a bit too close for comfort but what a laugh! Maybe Turnage should retitle it "Variations on a Theme From Beyoncé", though there's not all that much variation. There's good music and bad, but that's not necessarily dictated by genre.
One thing I did wonder, though was why they followed that sublime Barber concerto with Sibelius ? Bernstein might have been a better choice, especially Bernstein 2 "The Age of Anxiety" which mixes genres too - jazz, Broadway and mainstream classical. Robertson conducted this wonderfully a few years ago, really making sense of the piece and restoring respect for Bernstein's strange mindset. Much better fit.
Mathis der Maler GMJO Hindemith Prom 62
Hindemith's Mathis der Maler with the Gustav Mahler Jugendorchester (Prom 62) should have been a wonderful experience. The GMJO redefine the term "youth orchestra". Claudio Abbado's vision was to give young musicians the finest support and coaching possible, to treat them like serious professionals so they'd be inspired to play like fully fledged artists, not just another collection of bright kids. Eyes closed you can't tell how old they are. That's the point. The vision is that youth can be channeled into art.
Mathis der Maler is inspirational music, and no doubt the orchestra knows the background well, because it informs performance. As the Weimar republic collapsed and Hitler came to power Hindemith studied Matthias Grünewald's masterpiece, the altar triptych at Isenheim, pictured above. (click to expand for detail).
Grünewald lived during the Reformation, so he knew all about schism in society, and how belief can lead to war. The paintings depict horrors like crucifixion. Yet they're designed to make the viewer contemplate, and sublimate earthly pain. Could, or should, modern music give modern people some sense of transcendence when evil reigns? Wilhelm Fürtwängler knew exactly what he was doing when he championed Hindemith and stood up to Goebbels. When I found Fürtwängler's denazification file, there was a lot on Hindemith. Luckily there was enough evidence in his defence that the authorities didn't need to study the opera.
Nowadays when churches are full of tourists more interested in webcams than art, one forgets that paintings like these were made for intense, personal contemplation. Perhaps music, because it's more abstract, can give us that inexpressible inner dimension.
Certainly this performance was pleasant, because this music isn't "difficult" to take in even though structurally it's as complex as a triptych which can be viewed from many sides, including when it's closed shut. Herbert Blomstedt spent years in Dresden, one of the hot points in the Reformation, but for whatever reason, this didn't add insight to his conducting. Had this performance been directed by passion or insight it would have been truly beautiful in the deepest meaning of the word.
Abbado and most others who've conducted the GMJO have capitalized on their youthful energy, which is why this orchestrra has such unique character. If Blomstedt had let his players take more risks and play with greater freedom, they'd have reached real illumination. Technically correct isn't artistically correct.
Please see my piece on Paul Hindemith's Das Marienleben (also inspired by Grünewald). Picture HERE
Some Fischer-Dieskau fans denounce Christian Gerhaher, but I've always had a soft spot for him. Not though at Prom 62, where his Mahler Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen was pedestrian, even in the better acoustic on broadcast. Isn't the young journeyman walking, you might ask? No, not really. This set of songs was Mahler's preparation for greater things, just as Hindemith's symphony was a preparation for a much darker, complex opera. The fahrenden Gesellen isn't really walking, he's covering huge emotional distances. Just not in this performance.
Bruckner is spiritual, though I usually can't relate to his vibe (Messiaen works miracles with me) so it was unlikely that I'd benefit from Blomstedt's Bruckner 9. So here's a treat - Hindemith himself conducting Mathis der Maler (stretched over 4 parts). Get a good recording and hope that the GMJO will play it again.
Mathis der Maler is inspirational music, and no doubt the orchestra knows the background well, because it informs performance. As the Weimar republic collapsed and Hitler came to power Hindemith studied Matthias Grünewald's masterpiece, the altar triptych at Isenheim, pictured above. (click to expand for detail).
Grünewald lived during the Reformation, so he knew all about schism in society, and how belief can lead to war. The paintings depict horrors like crucifixion. Yet they're designed to make the viewer contemplate, and sublimate earthly pain. Could, or should, modern music give modern people some sense of transcendence when evil reigns? Wilhelm Fürtwängler knew exactly what he was doing when he championed Hindemith and stood up to Goebbels. When I found Fürtwängler's denazification file, there was a lot on Hindemith. Luckily there was enough evidence in his defence that the authorities didn't need to study the opera.
Nowadays when churches are full of tourists more interested in webcams than art, one forgets that paintings like these were made for intense, personal contemplation. Perhaps music, because it's more abstract, can give us that inexpressible inner dimension.
Certainly this performance was pleasant, because this music isn't "difficult" to take in even though structurally it's as complex as a triptych which can be viewed from many sides, including when it's closed shut. Herbert Blomstedt spent years in Dresden, one of the hot points in the Reformation, but for whatever reason, this didn't add insight to his conducting. Had this performance been directed by passion or insight it would have been truly beautiful in the deepest meaning of the word.
Abbado and most others who've conducted the GMJO have capitalized on their youthful energy, which is why this orchestrra has such unique character. If Blomstedt had let his players take more risks and play with greater freedom, they'd have reached real illumination. Technically correct isn't artistically correct.
Please see my piece on Paul Hindemith's Das Marienleben (also inspired by Grünewald). Picture HERE
Some Fischer-Dieskau fans denounce Christian Gerhaher, but I've always had a soft spot for him. Not though at Prom 62, where his Mahler Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen was pedestrian, even in the better acoustic on broadcast. Isn't the young journeyman walking, you might ask? No, not really. This set of songs was Mahler's preparation for greater things, just as Hindemith's symphony was a preparation for a much darker, complex opera. The fahrenden Gesellen isn't really walking, he's covering huge emotional distances. Just not in this performance.
Bruckner is spiritual, though I usually can't relate to his vibe (Messiaen works miracles with me) so it was unlikely that I'd benefit from Blomstedt's Bruckner 9. So here's a treat - Hindemith himself conducting Mathis der Maler (stretched over 4 parts). Get a good recording and hope that the GMJO will play it again.
Wednesday, 1 September 2010
Mahler and the Tarot?
Gustav Mahler and the Tarot? Obviously there's no evidence of him believing in esoteric divination. But the Tarot is steeped in western culture, stemming from archetypes that have symbolic meaning to anyone versed in the Bible or European folk culture. Which Mahler was.
The Holy Fool is the first card in a Tarot deck "Fool" in this case does not mean foolish, but someone totally open and pure, setting out optimistically on a journey into the world. Child-like in the sense of being non-prejudiced, non-judgemental. Medievalists correct me, but weren't there folk movements in the Middle Ages, where people danced as "Holy Fools", in defiance of Death and Authority at times like plagues and famines?
Usually the Fool is depicted on a precipice but the crucial question is, will he fall or will he take flight? And he might just get lucky and carry on without noticing.
A dog, or sometimes a wolf chases him, symbolizing both dangers of the wild and of domesticity. Stopping is not an option. Sometimes the dog pulls the Fool's trousers down, typical medieval levelling down, not lost I suspect on someone like Mahler.
The Holy Fool carries a pack, but his baggage is light. Often he's shown holding roses or herbs, because he's idealistic, searching for beauty and knowledge (maybe occult pharmacology, too). This depiction's true to Mahler because it shows an Alpine landscape. Peaks to be scaled, difficulties to overcome.
So bear the image in mind when listening to Mahler's First Symphony. It's Mahler striding confidently out into the world. He carries with him a background in "serious" music and also in folk culture (albeit filtered through middle class intellect) but it doesn't hold him back. Indeed, his songs infuse the symphony, pushing it forward. Thus the "walking pace" of this symphony, grave and deliberate but sprightly. This is a young man's symphony with all that implies - brashness, naivety, self absorption as well as boundless energy and verve.
"Here I come" Mahler seems to be saying. Destination unknown, but the joy is in the journey. How this symphony is performed tells us much about conductor and orchestra, and how they relate to Mahler's traverse as a whole. There is horror in this symphony, a storm perhaps - but it moves on, undaunted. Sometimes this is called the ""Titanic" symphony, a reference to the Titans of Jean Paul.. But maybe that's premature as this symphony's vivacious rather than careworn. Though many young men think the woes of the world are on them.
Tarot symbols are interpreted intuitively. Obviously Mahler 1 isn't "about" the Tarot literally, but thinking about it in terms of wider European culture may sharpen our appreciation of the symphony's treasures.
Sir Simon Rattle conducted Mahler 1 in Berlin on Friday and will conduct it again this Friday at the Proms, also with the Berliner Phiharmoniker. I'll be writing up tomorrow or Friday.
The Holy Fool is the first card in a Tarot deck "Fool" in this case does not mean foolish, but someone totally open and pure, setting out optimistically on a journey into the world. Child-like in the sense of being non-prejudiced, non-judgemental. Medievalists correct me, but weren't there folk movements in the Middle Ages, where people danced as "Holy Fools", in defiance of Death and Authority at times like plagues and famines?
Usually the Fool is depicted on a precipice but the crucial question is, will he fall or will he take flight? And he might just get lucky and carry on without noticing.
A dog, or sometimes a wolf chases him, symbolizing both dangers of the wild and of domesticity. Stopping is not an option. Sometimes the dog pulls the Fool's trousers down, typical medieval levelling down, not lost I suspect on someone like Mahler.
The Holy Fool carries a pack, but his baggage is light. Often he's shown holding roses or herbs, because he's idealistic, searching for beauty and knowledge (maybe occult pharmacology, too). This depiction's true to Mahler because it shows an Alpine landscape. Peaks to be scaled, difficulties to overcome.
So bear the image in mind when listening to Mahler's First Symphony. It's Mahler striding confidently out into the world. He carries with him a background in "serious" music and also in folk culture (albeit filtered through middle class intellect) but it doesn't hold him back. Indeed, his songs infuse the symphony, pushing it forward. Thus the "walking pace" of this symphony, grave and deliberate but sprightly. This is a young man's symphony with all that implies - brashness, naivety, self absorption as well as boundless energy and verve.
"Here I come" Mahler seems to be saying. Destination unknown, but the joy is in the journey. How this symphony is performed tells us much about conductor and orchestra, and how they relate to Mahler's traverse as a whole. There is horror in this symphony, a storm perhaps - but it moves on, undaunted. Sometimes this is called the ""Titanic" symphony, a reference to the Titans of Jean Paul.. But maybe that's premature as this symphony's vivacious rather than careworn. Though many young men think the woes of the world are on them.
Tarot symbols are interpreted intuitively. Obviously Mahler 1 isn't "about" the Tarot literally, but thinking about it in terms of wider European culture may sharpen our appreciation of the symphony's treasures.
Sir Simon Rattle conducted Mahler 1 in Berlin on Friday and will conduct it again this Friday at the Proms, also with the Berliner Phiharmoniker. I'll be writing up tomorrow or Friday.
Dreyfus speaks !
On a cylinder recording made on 27th March 1912, Alfred Dreyfus speaks about his case. In 1894, he'd been accused of spying, and driven out out of the French army even though the accusation was fabricated. Because his case became a celebrated cause, he was finally exonerated, after having served time in prison. Usually political cover-ups go the other way and evil folk are acquitted because it's expedient. But hooray for Dreyfus, who proved that sometimes the good guys win.
Listen to him, in his own voice, HERE Click on the little bar above the picture. Thanks to the friend who sent it! (Contributions always welcome) It is quite amazing, even to this day that sounds from another era can be captured.
It's also a reminder that recordings are snapshots, fragments of reality, not the whole reality itself. Because most people born after 1930 grew up with recordings, it's easy to forget that recordings are artefacts, just as in a museum where objects are displayed to tell us about cultures past and alien. We can learn lots from looking at Egyptian relics, but we don't really know what it must have been like to be an ancient Egyptian. That comes from sorting out the data available and taking intuitive guesses based on empathy. Yet as close as we might get, it's not the same thing.
Historians don't write history. What they do is assess what fragments remain of the past and draw assumptions based thereon. If new data surface, deductions can be completely revised. What we think we know is in fact provisonal. A good historian goes to the sources, and keeps an open mind. Same too with a good musician.
Please see my earlier posts on historic recordings - Mahler playing Mahler Piano, Debussy and Rachmaninoff playing 100 years ago and many others.
Listen to him, in his own voice, HERE Click on the little bar above the picture. Thanks to the friend who sent it! (Contributions always welcome) It is quite amazing, even to this day that sounds from another era can be captured.
It's also a reminder that recordings are snapshots, fragments of reality, not the whole reality itself. Because most people born after 1930 grew up with recordings, it's easy to forget that recordings are artefacts, just as in a museum where objects are displayed to tell us about cultures past and alien. We can learn lots from looking at Egyptian relics, but we don't really know what it must have been like to be an ancient Egyptian. That comes from sorting out the data available and taking intuitive guesses based on empathy. Yet as close as we might get, it's not the same thing.
Historians don't write history. What they do is assess what fragments remain of the past and draw assumptions based thereon. If new data surface, deductions can be completely revised. What we think we know is in fact provisonal. A good historian goes to the sources, and keeps an open mind. Same too with a good musician.
Please see my earlier posts on historic recordings - Mahler playing Mahler Piano, Debussy and Rachmaninoff playing 100 years ago and many others.
September in London
September starts the new year in music after the summer break, though the Proms continue. Two Berlin Philharmonic Proms with Simon Rattle - one a repeat of Friday's Berlin concert, the other with Karita Mattila. Then two Last Nights of the Proms, 1910 and 2010 to show that "tradition" isn't as entrenched as traditionalists think it is.
The Royal Opera House opens with two Jonathan Miller productions, a revival of Così fan tutte, then Don Pasquale with a very interesting cast including Gavanelli and Imbrailo. Agostino Steffani's Niobe, Regina di Tebe, however, is the really intriguing wild card because it's such a rarity, passionately advocated by some. I'd definitely be going to this but all three dates have other things on. Hengelbrock, Véronique Gens and a very strong cast, so it's going to be good, if you accept early baroque on its own terms.
The ENO opens with Gounod's Faust, a co-production with the Met, Toby Spence and Melody Moore. I'll get to that though I've mixed feelings about The Makropulos Case as I really don't like Janáček in English. Memories of the ENO recording still chill my blood, even though this is a completely different cast.
Faust was the reason why tickets for Matthias Goerne on the 18th didn't disappear as quickly as those for his second Wigmore Hall concert on the 20th. Karita Mattila has a luscious programme on 10th September - Strauss, Brahms, Berg and wonderful Sibelius songs. Angelika Kirschlager's first recital is Schumann, the second will be the Hugo Wolf Spanisches Liederbuch. with Ian Bostridge, much more demanding and more interesting for that very reason.
Lots of Robert Schumann this year at the Wigmore Hall, and in programmes devised by Julius Drake, it will be good. James Gilchrist and Christopher Maltmann sing the "character songs" - Eichendorff, Kerner and Hans Christian Anderson. and then Kirchschlager returns to sing Respighi with the Belcea Quartet.
The Royal Festival Hall sparks back to life with Salonen and Jurowski, both conducting Mahler which I've writtten about HERE. Get to Salonen's Sibelus on 30/9 though. In Finland, the pressure to do Sibelius is so strong that Salonenen rebelled. It was wise, because when he eventually returned to Sibelius, he heard the music from a completely fresh perspective. No ingrained autopilot regurgitation. Instead, Salonen's Sibelius is intensely original, deeply thought through. Not for those who like Sibelius as Tchaikovsky manqué but great for those who want to get close to Sibelius's uncompromising soul.
The music clip "Het is September" a popular Dutch tune from the 1930's, Marcel Thielemann's Ramblers. A cheery start for the new year in music, after the summer break.
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