Brahms Da unten im Tal

Yesterday at the Wigmore Hall an important recital - Brahms and Schumann four-part songs. It's always an occasion when they're performed live because it isn't easy to get four top singers together whose voices balance perfectly and who can get the intricate interplay of harmonies. The two Brahms sets, Liebeslieder Waltzes op 52 and Neues Liebeslieder Waltzes op 65, are quite a hefty undertaking, as performances usually include other Brahms part songs like the exquisite Der Abend, one of my all time favourites. Detailed review follows soon in Opera Today. The last time I heard a Brahms Liebeslieder programme live was also at the Wigmore Hall, in 1997?, very beautiully sung by Christoph Prégardien, Ingeborg Danz, Juliane Banse and Thomas Quasthoff.  The absolute classic recording is Peter Schreier, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Edith Mathis and Brigitte Fassbaender, all but DFD Wigmore Hall regulars.

This time the singers were Bernarda Fink, Sylvia Schwartz, Michael Schade and Robert Holl. Fink and Holl are extremely experienced, top of their Fach, so I wasn't disappointed by Thomas Quasthoff's no-show. Quasthoff wasn't overlooked though, because Michael Schade gave a short speech with a message from him. "Quasthoff talks a lot, so I will do too". Unfortunately that's all too true. Perhaps there are reasons, but I'm more into music than into celebrities. Holl is doing another solo recital on Sunday at the Wigmore Hall - get to it to hear what real Lieder singing is about. He's singing Brahms Vier ernste Lieder, which he does grippingly well. Be there - it will be an experience and maybe even an education. Holl's not young but his technique is so firm, and his expressive ability is so strong, he's impressive.

Da unten im Tal was one of the encores. As Schade noted, it was one of Elizabeth Schwarzkopf's favourites, I've put it up here as a sample. The song seems simple, like folk melody, but listen carefully to the desperation in the undertones. The girl knows her lover is a cad, who will always be false and will betray her, as he's probably cheated on many before. Yet her love is so intense that she'll cherish the moment while it lasts. Schwarzkopf shows how the girl has dignity and poise, despite her anguish. And so the poignant last strophe in which a tumult of emotion is distilled into quiet resignation:

Für die Zeit, wo du gliebt mi hast,
Da dank i dir schön,
Und i wünsch, daß dir's anderswo
Besser mag gehn.

(For the time that you made me happy, I thank you. And I wish you well wherever you may wander)

Drought ends - online listening glut

After weeks of drought, the deluge has broken. So much to listen to online this week. First, grab the last chance to hear Jiri Belohlávek conduct the BBCSO in Smetana's The Bartered Bride. Wonderful, lively performance, rustic but not bucolic. Czech cast, and native born speaker as conductor, not that it matters quite so much in Smetana as in Janáček, but still, they can concentrate oin singing not syntax. This one's so good it could make it to CD but catch it now.

Then what promises to be an intelligent Berlioz's The Damnation of Faust from Chicago Lyric Opera. I haven't heard it yet but the singers are John Relyea, (world's best Devil) Susan Graham and Paul Groves. If that's not enough recommendation, conductor is Sir Andrew Davis who is very, very good in this repertoire. The photos indicate intelligent staging, too. So much for the excuse that the damned Gilliam Damnation at the ENO was acceptable because the piece isn't often staged. C'mon, it's not that hard. This may be the purgative. Listen HERE.

Every morning this week the 10 am slot (available anytime HERE) features a different work by C  Hubert Parry, much underrated.  Unfortunately, there's a John Bridcut TV doc about him on Friday night (7.30, BBC4) which does not sound promising, even without HRH Prince Charles enthusing. Part of the reason Parry isn't better appreciated than he should be is that he's saddled with an old fogey Establishment image. The real Parry was a much more enlightened man. Just as Parry's coming out of the ghetto of WASP, his "admirers" might just want him thrown back in.

Saturday Night's BBC Radio 3 opera slot is Moisey (Mieczyslaw) Weinberg's The Portrait, from Opera North's production last year. Publicity blurbs are notorious for picking out good comments from damning reviews but this one stretches credulity so much it's hilarious. (follow the links on the ON site).

But as usual, it's the Berliner Philharmoniker that takes the honours. The repeat of Abbado's Das Lied von der Erde isn't available yet, but last week's concert is available in the archive, featuring Yutaka Sado's debut. Takemitsu and Shostakovich 5.  This Saturday, a big Bruckner symophony for those who love Bruckner, but for me the HUGE MUST will be K A Hartmann's  Gesangsszene (Song Scene), an incredibly prescient piece on economic and political meltdown. But written decades ago! Matthias Goerne sings. It's become one of his trademark pieces and he does it better than anyone (leaves the two current recordings for dead).

Divine DiDonato Ariodante Barbican

The Barbican was sold out to the rafters, even top gallery almost full. The draw wasn't Handel Ariodante so much as its star, Joyce DiDonato. And she delivered, divinely! Absolutely luscious singing, embellishments elegant and perfectly judged. Karina Gauvin (Ginevra) and Marie-Nicole Lemieux (Polinesso) impressed but once DiDonato got going, no-one else stood a chance. Her stellar presence eclipsed all before her.

The Barbican has been bringing the finest French baroque (and other) ensembles to London over the last few months. Just in the Orlando Furioso series we've had Minkowski/Musiciens du Louvre/Grenoble  genius Alcina, and Spinosi/Ensemble Mattheus in Vivaldi Orlando Furioso. So we're getting spoiled. Maybe it was the DiDonato eclipse effect, or my feeling very unwell, but I wasn't too entranced this time. Perfectly good playing from Alan Curtis and Il Complesso Barocco who are very experienced and have a lively, idiomatic sound.  Lemieux (very good in the low register, quite menacing), Gauvin and Sabina Puertolas (Dalinda) would break into spirited forays of excellent singing, and give DiDonato a run for her money. Handel does write big showcase numbers for them, and for Nicholas Phan's Lurcanio and Matthew Brook's King of Scotland. (This opera is set in Scotland? a bizarre concept if there ever was one! But that's baroque for you and Scoitland was a wild, uncivilized place). But the fans had come for Joyce and that's what they got.  Someone in the audience said "This music is SOOOOOO relaxing" which is a novel take on Handel. But why not? As my partner said, "We know the ending". I was feeling so grogged out that I was happy for once to lean back and luxuriate without too much brain effort. More like how they listened in Handel's day ! DiDonato, fortunately, was wonderful. And she moves as she sings, expressively.

An aside - how I hate those silly Met interval chat shows! They are fillers between intervals but now they are getting to be part of the show. Fake spontaniety, self-congratulatory shallowness. As long as the face is famous, never mind if what comes from it is trivial. Symptomatic about what's wrong with the Met and its market.  Joyce DiDonato is a regular, but she comes over natural, as a real person. Bryn Terfel showed his artistic integrity when he brushed past Placido Domingo, no less, and said "Can't talk, I've a big act to sing next". That's what it's really all about. DiDonato quotes someone on her website, "There's nothing wrong with publicity until it goes to your head". Not in her case, or Terfel's, thank goodness.

Photo copyright Nick Heavican

Glyndebourne Meistersinger - Beckmesser or Sachs?

Thinking further about Wagner Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg at Glyndebourne I was struck by how well Vladimir Jurowski's approach worked in context.  Glyndebourne is set in glorious gardens, with a lake, woods - and a huge meadow. It feels like a place of pilgrimage because it's the oldest and grandest (so far) summer opera festival. People go back year after year to because it's more than opera, it's also social. Isn't that a lot like Act Three, where the townsfolk leave the warren of the city behind and celebrate in the open air? And one of the fundamental themes of the opera - renewal, regrowth, non-urban values.

There's always something new to discover in truly great music. Someone else's interpretation might just bring out levels you hadn't thought about. Jurowski's Meistersinger emphasized the spirit of freedom and openness that is so central to the opera. It connected to the Glyndebourne ethos, with a cheeky wink at status and pretension. Wagner's proto-socialist politics would jar in this context, but it still packs a punch when it's done with a subtle touch. Besides, stupidity afflicts all classes, not just the rich, as the opera shows.

Jurowski and the LPO brought out the energy in  the music, so it felt breezy and energetic - truly the spirit of summer and regrowth. Wagner isn't done at Glyndebourne because the hall is too small. (Tristan und Isolde is an exception because it revolves around two main characters.) Bombast would overwhelm, and emphasise the very aspects of status and display Wagner is seeking to undermine. So Jurowski turns negative to positive, with an unsually bright, lively interpretation that accesses the soul of the opera more perceptively than the image of Bayreuth 1943 that seems imprinted on many people's minds.

David McVicar's staging is woefully dull and bears little relationship to the opera. It dragged so much that it would be easy to assume it was the fault of the music. But no! Jurowski and the LPO played with alert vigour. The music around the apprentices is supposed to burst with rustic quaintness, even suppressed violence. Hence the angular rhythms, which Jurowskiu shaped well. 

Again and again, we fall into the trap of listening through a narrow prism, basing observations on what we're used to, not on what is actually happening in a performance. But no artist is an artist if he/she doesn't find something personal and original.  Always, I think, base observations on the score, separate from performance practice. We have a choice. Walther isn't full formed. But do we listen as Beckmesser or as Sachs? 

HERE is a link to the review in Opera Today. The picture above also contradicts kneejerk thinking. It's a watercolour by Rudolf Bauer (1889-1953), an exact contemporary of Hitler. Bauer was involved with Kandinsky, Franz Marc, Chagall and the Die Sturm group. The picture at first looks traditional, but it's influenced by late art deco, and  more modern values of light and energy. It's not "degenerate" modernism - Nazxis might happily have had this on their walls. In real life, Bauer's friends were Jewish and/or politically suspect. He was imprisoned by the Gestapo. But part of the reason he's forgotten today might be because he was naive in business.

Verdi Macbeth - TWO full downloads

Opinion? Everyone does opinion. Informed opinion? it helps when the groundwork has been done, even if it's  basic background.  Anyway here's a Goodies Bag for Verdi Macbeth, starting at the Royal Opera House tonight. . Not one but TWO free streaming online downloads, and a description of the new critical edition.  Both come from Opera Today, a wonderful resource. The first download is Claudio Abbado, conducting at La Scala Milan in 1975. The second is Vienna, 2009, for Keenlyside fans. Enjoy !

Glyndebourne Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg - sunny but not shallow

Glorious sunshine at Glyndebourne for Richard Wagner's Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg on the eve of his birthday. The action in this opera takes place on Hans Sach's nameday, which carries huge signifigance. This opera revolves around Sachs and his views on justice and above all Art. Sachs is a cobbler, who sees all men's shoes - the ultimate leveller. He doesn't judge people by status or background but by who they are. He can spot Walther von Stoltzing's true nobility when the Meistersingers ridicule him as an outsider. And that nobility comes from Art.

Hans Sachs isn't fictive invention. He was a real person who lived at a time when Germany was rent apart by religious struggle. Nuremberg was an island of Protestantism in the sea of Catholic Bavaria.  "Heilige Deutsche Kunst" refers quite specifically to the concept of emerging German identity which started with the translation of the Bible into the vernacular and the Reformation. "Should the Holy Roman Empire end", sing the locals, "German values won't end".  Just as Sachs and his peers rejected Rome and what it stood for, Wagner was turning from French and Italian opera, to create anew. So anyone who insists Die Meistersinger  must be Nazi is a fool, who's spent too much time on Monty Python and none on Wagner.

That said, Die Meistersinger is comic, but not comedy. It's subversive. Beckmesser is the Town Clerk, thus symbol of the Establishment and civic status. That's why Pogner's happy to marry his daughter off, and why the Meistersingers obey him when he ridicules Walther, who lives for pure art, which he's learned from nature.  Sachs opposes mob thinking, whether the mob are his fellow Meistersingers, or the townsfolk, fighting mindlessly in the streets. He protects Walther by giving him a chance to express his true talent. Just as Sachs doesn't march to anyone's tune, neither will Walther. If Hitler had had any inkling of what Die Meistersinger really is about, he might not have been quite such a fan.

This production (David McVicar, director,  Vicki Mortimer, designer) is joyful and exuberant. The apprentices are wonderfully energetic and "rude" in the best sense of the word. They leap and dance with the precision of workmen who are mastering their craft. They're the future, just as Walther is. Topi Lehtipuu's David sings with vigour, giving greater depth to the role than it sometimes gets. He acts like he's put upon, but he's a strong personality. Sachs would hardly take on a stupid apprentice, nor promote him to Gesellen. Lehtipuu's David is convincingly the next Sachs in embryo.

But why update to the early 19th century? Perhaps McVicar's making a connection to Beethoven and Goethe, but the connection is remote and adds nothing. Act One is dominated by a huge fan-vaulted ceiling. Perhaps Walther and Eva meet in church, but it's a major misreading of the opera. If anything, this is an opera about the freshness of nature, which is why the tree in the town square and the meadow play an important part. Nuremberg in Sachs's time was a warren, where the community lived in claustrophobic proximity. This elaborate ceiling means that Sachs's workshop becomes something decidedly upper class. which destroys the idea of Sachs as a humble man of the people, who is elevated by his art. Wagner sent the Town Clerk into the cobbler's workshop to show up the contrast in their status.

Hans Sachs isn't a role one might associate with Gerald Finley, so there's no point in comparing him to some of the iconic Sachs's of the past. Finley's voice is in reasonably good shape, so his Sachs is a refined, understated characterization. It emphasizes the poet in Sachs more than the cobbler, but it works well enough. Finley is convincing in the long monologue. Wahn, Wahn, überall Wahn is a sentiment anyone can identify with, whatever the context.

Johannes Martin Kränzle is an effective Sixtus Beckmesser. He's the most elegant man in town, who's always got up in finery, unlike the locals who save it for festive occasions. The part could use more malice, but Kränzle spinned out the curling lines sinuously and moved like a viper. At the end, when he played his lute like an air guitar, it was hilarious. Anna Gabler sang Eva as a charming ingénue, at her best in the final scene where she at last can openly declare her love. The quintet was fabulous, the three central figures haloed by the two lesser roles.

Marco Jentzsch's Walther von Stoltzing was extremely impressive. This is a singer to watch as we desperately need new Heldentenors, or at least tenors with good range and dramatic stage presence. Jentzch is tall and handsome, which helps, but his singing is his greatest asset. The voice is warm but authoritative, and he uses it with intelligent expressiveness. This was Prize Song to cherish, beautifully fresh and pure, yet tinged with committment.  For someone relatively young, he's mature. Walther, after all, is an independent spirit who even when he wins, doesn't want to join a group. "Nein, Meister, nein !" While he looked dazzling in his Hussar costume, it was an interpretive mistake, since Wallther is a ronin, a leaderless wanderer who doen't do status or adhere to outward form. Jentzsch is so good, however, that you focus on the singing, not the suit.  

The very idea of  Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg at Glyndebourne breaks the mould, too. In theory, it's too big for a 1,100 seat hall, but Vladimir Jurowski leads the London Philharmonic Orchestra as if it were a huge chamber ensemble. Gloriously lucid reading, well balanced and clear.  Jurowski brought out the fundamental waywardness in the music, which was refreshing. Heavy handed magnificence we associate with Establishment and power structures. Jurowski understands that the soul of Die Meistersinger is in its open-aired freshness.  He conducts the different blocs (Meistersingers, apprentices, townsfolk) so they knock against each other almost in counterpoint, so you really feel how they jostle together in the plot. No congestion whatever in the riot scene or in the tumult at the Prize Ceremony. Jurowski gives each thread its due. Just as Sachs gives all men equal respect.(even if they turn out to be fools like Beckmesser).

Though this Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg  doesn't plumb the subversive depths of this amazingly rewarding opera, it's exuberant and uplifting, especially in the final scene, where all the threads are drawn together. Wagner and Sachs are much deeper, but in these discordant, polarized times, take heed of the message of this Glyndebourne Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. Harmony is a lot more difficult to achieve than it seems.  This production may be sunny but it's not shallow. 

A more formal version of this will appear shortly in Opera Today. Click HERE for link.  OT is an international publication, and Glyndebournje is now reaching audiences well beyond the UK. So this is being rewritten for a more international audience. Same conclusions, but more on Jurowski's intelligent approach to Meistersinger in a summer setting. Click HERE for another on why Jurowski's approach worked so well.

When this gets to DVD, get it! There will be screenings in cinemas this summer and on websites. 
Photos copyright Tristram Kenton, (details embedded) courtesy Glyndebourne Opera

Don't throw money

Don't need to understand Cantonese to get the gist of this clip. "Don't throw money" Nice guy gets conned by a gang of crooks. COMING UP GLYNDEBOURNE MEISTERSINGER !

ENO Britten Midsummer Night's Dream

Almost casually, in late life, Benjamin Britten let slip that he'd been raped at school. No details, no histrionics, and the composer immediately retreated back into characteristic icy reserve. Clearly, though, Britten's emotional reticence and fixation with the loss of innocence stemmed from very deep sources. As his boy friends (not boyfriends) noticed, he was even  more of a boy than  they were. It's as if he were forever fixed emotionally aged 13. It becomes part of his creative persona. He writes gloriously complex, sophisticated dramas, but always there's a veiled mystery, a secret that cannot be revealed.

The new ENO Britten Midsummer Night's Dream directed by Christopher Alden will draw fire because it's an oppressively dark reading of the opera, and by extension, of Shakespeare. The anti-update crowd will howl, but the concept is utterly valid, both in terms of the score and in the insights it brings about Britten's personality.  The set (Charles Edwards) is perfect. Heavy, grey walls of an old style school, identical classrooms, all symbols of regimentation.  The dense forests outside Athens become a "blackboard jungle".  It's suffocatingly oppressive, but that's exactly how it's meant to be, emotionally.  Britten, who'd been cosseted by his mother up to that point rebelled against the suppression of individuality. He "was" Puck, fought over by Tytania and Oberon.

There are other oblique hints, like the refrain, commonly known as "Girls and boys come out to play".  For Britten life was a mask from which he escaped in fantasy. It is perfectly valid to read in his Midsummer Night's Dream a coded roman à clef, even if it's not quite so in Shakespeare.  Plenty of homosexual references throughout, which are perfectly valid in the Britten context. There are fairies in this Midsummer Night's Dream, but they're concealed. Anyone can be magical, unique and gay. No need to sprout wings to prove it.

Potentially, this could have been a brilliant production, full of insight and pathos. But what happened? The concept is right, the set's correct and there are some extremely good performances. In the beginning characters slump against walls, and move as if sleepwalking. This is fine, for we're entering the realm of sleep, escaping from the "public" of school into the "private" of school in a symbolic sense.  But after a while the effect wears off and we're supposed to be in alternative universes. The lovers, the workers, the fairies and the nobles inhabit different spheres. The drama comes when they interact. If they're not differentiated, the impact of the surreal is neutered. The plot's crazy, when you think about it. Here it's rendered dull. The idea of mind-numbing regimentation doesn't need to spread out this far into the opera. The workmen, for example,  are usually a scream, because they're so off the wall.  Here the wall is the only spot of colour. (and it's a Queen).

The Second Act is brighter, enlivened by putting the nobles in the Royal Box to watch the workmen's play. Nice blending of real and unreal, but it's too little, too late. The workmen's play is literal, too, taken straight from the kind of toy theatre Britten almost certainly knew about. In fact, there's probably one in the catalogue of his childhood possessions. This is a valid idea because for Britten fantasy was more powerful than reality. But it's a concept too subtle for most to pick up on. This audience howled with laughter, perhaps grateful for a moment of brightness in monochrome grimness.  

Often with dull staging, attention falls on the orchestra for relief. It reflects Britten's fascination with early English music - itself a form of escape from the stolid tastes of early 20th century Britain. He used early form because he liked the vigour and earthiness - listen to the beaten percussion, expressed wonderfully on stage by the schoolboys beating windowframes. (Oddly enough a reminder of prison riots that start from similar small beginnings.) It's not simply because Britten's setting Shakespeare. All his life he was inspired by early and Renaissance music. Many of my friends enjoyed Leo Hussain's conducting because the music itself is so enjoyable. But Midsummer Night's Dream is like a series of masques where the fun happens when they  jangle against each other. Here, the individuality of the units was subsumed into the same kind of generic wash as Alden's direction.

Willard White pretty much carried the whole performance. Dream casting! His Bottom is earthy, and stands out all the more as he's easily the most mature and experienced person in this cast. He gets to take his clothes off, which is symbolic. Bet he enjoyed that, and what Tytania proceeded to do to him.  Britten's music for Tytania is quite quirky, with a wild edge Anna Christy brought off extremely well. William Towers substituted for Iestyn Davies a few hours before curtain up, and did extremely well, considering he almost certainly didn't do a full rehearsal. He really should be heard more often as countertenors like he, with a dark, distinctive timbre, can be much more interesting in some roles than pure and choirboy. 

How I would have liked to love this new ENO production because it's bursting with detail and potential. The basic concept can't be faulted. But it falls flat because Alden's direction is hamstrung by being too literal, where it could fly, brazenly, audaciously, into the realm of the surreal. This might as well have been a concert performance against a splendidly evocative backdrop.

Abbado Mahler Das Lied von der Erde Berlin - review

There was no way any performance of Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde with Claudio Abbado and the Berliner Philharmoniker would be anything but good. It was Mahler's Todestag after all,  everyone was reverent. But it exceeded all expectations because of Anne Sofie von Otter. She's by no means a typical Mahler singer, but that's exactly why she was so fantastic.

Scrap the clichés about how Der Abschied "should" be done: von Otter goes straight back to the score, and moreover to her soul, the source of real Mahler singing. Her voice is on the light side, so don't expect ultra-rich sumptuousness. There are different ways of expressing emotion. Von Otter's performance was wonderful because it was pure and direct. No diva-like affectations, no self-conscious playing to the audience. Such things impress, but ultimately they are ego trips for the singer, putting a barrier between listener and music. And Das Lied von der Erde, like so much Mahler, is about the sublimation of the ego.

Von Otter's interpretation highlighted Mahler, not herself. She's not as youthful as she was, but her voice is in excellent shape, enhanced by the depth emotional maturity can bring.  Complete technical control, firm tone, no wavering for adornment's sake.  Throught the text, there are references to lotuses and to ponds, which in China, almost always imply lotuses. These links are not superficial chinoiserie but fundamental to the whole meaning of this symphony. Lotuses are the symbol of purity becuase they rise upwards from murky depths. They look delicate but they're resilient. They survive and renew themselves year after year. Von Otter's singing has a pellucid quality that reminds me of the simple, unfussy purity of the lotus. She has grit and strength, but she projects legato so it expands with radiant lucidity. This is the essence of  O Schönheit! O ewigen Liebens.

Von Otter's clarity worked perfectly with the way Claudio Abbado conducted the Berliner Philharmoniker.  Can any other orchestra match the Berliners for lucidity and sheer finesse?  This was a performance that connected to the many images of darkness, contrasted with shimmering light in the text and in the music - mirror reflections, sparkling water, sunlight.... instruments reflected by others (flute/clarinet, violins/harp). Unmuddied, unsullied.  Even tutti moments were sharply outlined. Three mandolins, heard clearly and distinctly. And what lines - strutting, angular ostinato, not heavy handed but energetic.You could "see" the horses' muscles, and imagine the throbbing of a heartbeat, all references to a powerful life force.  Even more exquisite the surging, shimmering lines, rising ever upwards.  Combining Das Lied von der Erde with the Adagio from what would have been Mahler's Tenth Symphony enhanced both works. Shorn of the rest of the draft movements, the Adagio can be interpreted different ways, but Abbado and the Berliners know what was to come. Together, the two works are a hymn to life and the transcendence of death.  Hence, free-spirited exuberance rising from absolute technical refinement. Abbado looked even more haggard than usual, but even that added to the sense that this concert was a milestone experience.

Jonas Kauffmann, too, has matured. This performance showed him singing with much greater depth and gravitas than ever before. Das Trinklied vom Jammer der Erde isn't a drinking song. On the contrary, it's a savage, passionate protest against death and its curtailment of earthly happiness. Kaufmann spat out the lines about the ape on the tomb with appropriate violence. The image is horrific, especially for Chinese sensibilities. The ape represents the triumph of barbarism: apes aren't schön gekleidet and don't write verse or converse. Kaufmann's interpretation was flawless, impressively dignified. Unfortunately, his voice showd signs of strain, probably from having come fresh from a glorious Siegmund. But it didn't really matter if his top wasn't quite as smooth as it could be. Much better that he put his effort into emotional truth into what he was doing, singing meaning rather than surface beauty.

Although the live broadcast is over, the Berliner Philharmoniker will be archiving this concert, so it will be available online in the Digital Concert Hall. It was amazing, opening up new interpretive possibilties. Hearing it made me feel high, not on alcohol, but with the joy of life.  Please read my other posts on Mahler, Abbado, Das Lied von Der Erde and other related subjects.,. Lots on this site that's original, not seen anywhere else.

Das Lied von der Erde - personal musing

Amazing Mahler  Das Lied von der Erde from Berlin, Claudio Abbado, Anne Sofie von Otter, Jonas Kaufmann and the Berliner Philharmoniker. Shattering performance, I'm still shaking, one of the most powerful I've ever heard. Full commentary later, but for now, some personal observations on why and how such music can affect us. There is nothing wrong with listening like an autistic actuary, because emotion is messy. But for me, listening without making connections isn't listening at all. 

Because it's Mahler's Todestag, it would be churlish to deny the extra-musical impact of this performance. What lies beyond physical life? Maybe it's all one big con trick. But it does have a bearing on how we live in this world. Which is why it's fascinated people of all cultures for millennia. Listening to Das Lied von der Erde tonight, I kept thinking not only of Mahler but of my father, who resembled the composer in many ways although he couldn't stand Mahler's music, preferring Verdi. My Dad grew up in China. He was familiar with pavilions aus grünem und aus weißem Porzellan, and really did sit with friends talking about art, history and culture. When he was a refugee in the war, he climbed on the roof of the camp to look at the stars, even though he was crippled. South China was so much part of who he was that he withered in exile, like an uprooted plant, even though he kept active and learned many new things. In his old age, he kept a statue of Li Bo, the drunken poet, beside his favourite chair.

His last illness dragged on against all odds. He was a rational scientist but when the time came, he struggled on refusing to give in.  Being just as logical as he, I thought I'd be prepared at the end.  But no way. I shattered like an infant, unable to think straight for months. Any music seemed ludicrously trivial in the face of death. Then one day, much later, it felt like he was speaking to me "It's OK, I have reached the other side". And suddenly, inexplicably, Der Abschied from Das Lied von der Erde came pouring into my mind, full volume, full of feeling. For the first time, its complete meaning hit me, far greater than the text and music alone. It was like a message from my Dad, that whatever the transition was, it had passed and he was at peace. Totally, insanely illogical, as Mahler was the last composer my Dad would have communicated through. So maybe up wherever he is, he's chuckling at the irony.

For me, now when I hear Das Lied von der Erde, I think of the lotuses that appear almost casually in the text. Yet they are integral to the whole meaning of the song symphony. Lotuses grow in mud. Their roots are tough and fibrous. In summer, whole lakes can be covered by their strong, blue-green leaves. The flowers emerge, the petals so delicate-looking they seem like supernatural spirits. From mud, to purity. In the autumn they die back, but even in the north, where there is snow, they come back again in all their glory, in the spring.
Please see my other posts on Mahler and on Das Lied von der Erde, like THIS.

First complete Hugo Wolf songs set - part 1 Mörike

Hugo Wolf's songs to poems by Eduard Mörike are perhaps the most exquisite Lieder ever written. The songs flowed from Wolf's pen as if divinely inspired. Maybe they were, for they express the spirit of the poems so perfectly, it's almost as if they wrote themselves. Sometimes Wolf would write several in a day, intoxicated by their beauty.

This latest CD from small, independent label Stone Records  is the first in what will eventually be the first complete collection of Wolf's songs by a single group of performers. It will be a monumental undertaking, spread over 11 or 12 discs. There are more than 50 Mörike settings alone, and the range is so wide that one singer can't do them equal justice. Besides, hearing them performed together is a unique experience. This recording was made live at the Holywell Music Room in October 2010 as part of the Oxford Lieder Festival. The disc captures the spontaneous immediacy of live performance. One singer per song, of course, but such a sense of ensemble. These performers are listening to each other avidly, projecting and expecting a response from one another. It's hard to quantify precisely why this feels so vivid, but it feels right, as if we're listening to a group of friends at an early Wolfverein recital.

Perhaps it's because all these performers have worked together for years and have an established rapport. Sophie Daneman, Anna Grevelius, James Gilchrist and Stephan Loges, with pianist Sholto Kynoch, interact intuitively, so the recital flows seamlessly. They're clearly getting pleasure from being together, and the sense of ensemble comes over nicely.  The balance of four different voice types adds extra variety and adds to the charm. Chamber quartet in voice!

The sum of this performance is greater than its parts alone. Obviously, this set won't replace Schwarzkopf or Fischer-Dieskau or most of the really huge names that have done these songs before, but it's rewarding because it feels so personal.  This makes it special, and recommended for anyone who wants to know how live performance differs, even on recording, to studio work. This matters especially as Mörike was a poet for whom privacy was a statement of faith. He became a country prelate so he didn't have to work hard but could spend his time contemplating wild flowers and feeling the sunshine on his back. He believed in earth spirits and the supernatural. Not a man for whom the public sphere held  much attraction. Perhaps Wolf identified so closely with him because he, too, valued friendship and stillness. Both Mörike and Wolf were depressive. Perhaps they were aware that the "real" world isn't a nice place.

Each of these singers is highly experienced and distinctive, so it's also artistically rewarding. Sophie Daneman's Das verlassene Mägdlein is delicate and Stephan Loges' Fussreise vigorous. Anna Grevelius's An eine Äolsharfe lilts so gently that you imagine the sounds of a wind harp, animated by soft but invisible breezes. James Gilchrist shapes his words well in Auf eine Wanderung. Listen to the delicious "r"'s : "rückwärts die Stadt in goldnem Rauch: wie rauscht der Erlenbach wie rauscht der Erlenbach". Kynoch's piano dances lithely along, reinforcing the happy mood.

I confess a vested interest. I've long been associated with Oxford Lieder and contributed towards making this recording possible. Can't hide if my name's in the booklet!  On the other hand, I wouldn't be in that position if I hadn't spent a lifetime listening to Lieder and to Wolf. So I can sincerely recommend this recording. The ensemble atmosphere is so good that it will be a long time before this disc is surpassed in that sense. It is excellent, too, as an introduction to Wolf and to Mörike, because it enters into the inner world that inspired them better than more formal, technically sophisticated and "knowing" performances.

Please see my review of Stone Records Hugo Wolf Songs vol 4 - the early songs, Keller, Fallersleben, Ibsen and others, It's a must for serious Wolf lovers as rarities are conveniently collected together. I've also explained the arc of the set.

Gustav Mahler "such neat music"

Today is the 100th anniversary of Gustav Mahler's death.  Last night I read the relevant passages in Henri-Louis de La Grange's monumental biography, depicting the composer's journey home to Vienna. Although I've read those pages many times before, they're still powerfully moving. Had penicillin existed then Mahler might have lived another 40 years. What might have happened? On the other hand, we know what happened to many he knew. De la Grange's biography shows how Mahler's mind was vital and creative. He wasn't death obsessed as the myths would have it, but lively, inquisitive, intellectually alert. He thought a lot about death, but as the negation of life, rather than as a fetish in itself. That, for me, is why Mahler's music is so endlessly uplifting. It stimulates the spirit to rise ever upwards and explore new horizons.

Many years ago my small son had just learned to read, and voraciously absorbed everything he saw. Propped against my record player was an LP of Mahler with the dates 1860-1911. My son didn't know about dates and thought the numbers were a math problem. "How can a smaller number minus a big one?" he asked.  So I explained what the numbers meant. To a kid, even the measurement oif time is a new concept. The little lad sat intently listening to the music though he was only four. Then he breathed a heartfelt sigh. "What a pity Mahler is dead ! He writes such neat music!"

ENO 2011 2012 season - daring! detailed summary

PREVIEW of Ca;luigula HERE.  REVIEW follows shortly. Has the ENO ditched gimmicks for really classy opera? The new 2011-2012 ENO seasons returns to the older tradition of genuinely challenging opera, presented without thrills. The two significant items are Detlev Glanert's Caligula and Wolfgang Rihm's Jakob Lenz. Glanert and Lenz are the most significant living composers in Germany. They're extremely well regarded. The dominance of English language media means that anglophones are insular. But Germany was, and is, where it's happening in music. So ENO, despite it's English language remit, is doing a huge public service by bringing Glanert and Rihm to London. These could be landmark productions.

Glanert and Rihm are huge names and always feature in new music events. (Rihm's more avant garde, Glanert more accessiible).  In fact, they're so significant that they've been featured at the Proms. Rihm was the subject of a BBC Total Immersion last year. (read HERE and HERE). Regular visitors to this site will know them well which is why I've written so much about them in the past (use search box and labels at right)

Detlev Glanert is one of the few students Hans Werner Henze ever took on, so that in itself is an indication of how interesting he is. Like Henze, he loves music that "acts", also a good sign. Caligula, one of Glanert's many operas, grew out of  Theatrum bestiarum, a commission from the BBC for a gala piece using the Royal Albert Hall 's massive organ.  Caligula was an eccentric psychopath, so becoming a Roman Emperor gave him free licence to run amok. The opera's about how he bullies those who stand up to him. It's vivid and quirky, imbued by Glanert's warped but pointed sense of satire. Caligula's mad, and a tyrant, and the opera isn't all laughs. It's been revived several times. I caught it in Frankfurt in 2009. Read about it in more detail HERE. The production then was stupid, but the opera is good and will support a much more incisive staging. ENO is using Benedict Andrews, who did Monteverdi's Ulysses as Reservoir Dogs. Thank goodness, because the last thing Caligula needs is a director who thinks it's trite comedy. If Andrews takes his cues from the music this time, he could do something great.

Rihm's Jakob Lenz is an early (1977) chamber opera. Rihm went on to write lots more music theatre and music that incorporates voice. It's just that his orchestral and chamber music is so astoundingly good that it eclipses all else. Jakob Lenz was an eccentric writer who became insane. The opera is based on a play about him by Georg Büchner who wrote Woyzeck, now known as Wozzeck. It's only one act, so I'm not sure how it's going to be presented. Indications are that it's being done as a stand alone at the small Hampstead Theatre. Below I've posted a clip of Rihm's Jakob Lenz as a taster.

The ENO has a wonderful John Adams/Philip Glass tradition, so the new production of Adams's Death Of Klinghoffer will be a must.  When it premiered it caused a furore, hitting headlines ordinary operas can't hope to achieve. The subject's still controversial, so maybe it's a blessing that it's on in February 2012, before the Olympics, when it might be a bit too close for comfort.

Wonderful, too, that ENO are doing even more thought provoking work about serious issues. Mieczysław Weinberg's The Passenger starts 19th September 2011. When it was at Bregenz last year, Opera Cake wrote about it so vividly that it felt like you were actually there in the audiernce with him. Read him HERE This is what music writing should be like! Maybe we're getting the same production, but in English. What a scoop!

Altogther 11 new productions, which is soome kind of record in these straitened times. They include classics like Billy Budd, Rameau's Castor and Pollux, The Marriage of Figaro and The Flying Dutchman.  Much has been made of "four living composers" in the media but it's misleading. Although it's unethical to judge someone you haven't heard, I don't think Damon Albarn is anything near Glanert, Rihm or Adams. Because Albarn, Wainwright and others are heard at the Linbury, there's clearly a niche market for rock and pop composers branching into opera. But that doesn't automatically translate into cutting edge "new music". Like or not like, we need to know the difference or end up looking stupid.
 Photo above : Mike Quinn


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Die Walküre Met - artistic schizophrenia? Terfel, Kaufmann

What to make of the Met's Wagner Die Walküre? Brilliant First Act, so powerful it seemed like the whole Met ethos had been transformed. Das Rheingold was much derided because Robert Lepage's Big Machine took the spotlight. But in many ways, Das Rheingold failed because the singing, costumes and direction were sub-standard. The machine was a scapegoat. This Die Walküre indicates that it's been vindicated. The fault lies not with the set but the way it's used.

Stormy skies, a dense forest. Small figures appear in the cracks that open when the machine slats open. The Machine isn't a monolith - that in itself is an insight. So oppressive is this "forest" that when Siegmund collapses it feels like he's genuinely been through an overwhelming struggle. Jonas Kaufmann is amazing. I'd worried that his most perfect Lohengrin might not translate into wildman Siegmund, but Kaufmann characterizes so well that he's expanded the role beyond all expectations.

Siegmund is unlettered but not uncouth. Kaufmann's Siegmund bristles with intensity and intelligence. In the context of the whole Ring saga, it's a relatively small part, but Kaufmann shows why it's so critically important in the wider scheme of things. This is Siegmund as  a true hero, one for whom even a Valkyrie will challenge the Gods. As Wehwalt he suffered, but also helped others when he could. Siegfried in comparison can be a bit of a boor. As his Siegmund dies, Kaufmann raises his hand to caress Wotan's face. It's incredibly poignant and moving, intensely evocative.The role sits slightly high for his voice, so there's some strain, such as the sudden, tricky leap upwards on "Geliebter" after the quiet "Schwester". But many have been far worse. What counts is the overall portrayal : Kaufmann sets new standards.

Eva-Maria Westbroek was an excellent foil. She coils around Kaufmann's Siegmund so well that they really do seem like twin serpents.Westbroek isn't a typical "pretty" soprano but a good character singer who can bring edgy depth  to what she does. There's more to Sieglinde than doormat. I loved Westbroek's punk Elektra in Zurich, and her fiesty, sexual Elisabeth in Tannhäuser. Neither role a conventional interpretation, but perfectly valid in context.

Bryn Terfel coasted through the Met's recent Das Rheingold. He was right. Why should he bother when no-one else was even trying? Maybe this time a stronger international cast upped the stakes. Terfel responded.  Terfel's voice is so huge it impresses even when he's more into bark than bite, but here he was throwing himself into character, breathing into words so they came alive. Nuance and Terfel don't necessarily come together, but in this Wotan, Terfel brings out the insecurity at the heart of the role. Wotan wanders because he's searching for something he doesn't have. A paradigm for modern man perhaps, which makes the role so resonant. Exquisitely well balanced, thoughtful monologue in Act Two. Terfel cultivates a gruff persona for his public, but inside there's a sensitive artistic soul that needs to get out more.

Fricka on the other hand represents uncompromising moral absolutes. Stephanie Blythe sang with more gravitas and depth than she's done in years, but the ludicrous costume and throne destoyed her credibility. She's turned into the Queen in Disney's Snow White. It's a warning sign of the silliness that will eventually submerge this otherwise brilliant production. The real damage starts when Brünnhilde enters.

Deborah Voigt is an insider at the Met, so an obvious choice for a high profile production but Brünnhilde really isn't the role for her. I've rarely seen such a one-dimensional performance.Vocally, she's under pressure, so thin at the top she's almost shrill. But far more worrying is the characterization, or lack thereof.  It's as if the insight that went into directing the first two acts suddenly disintegrated.

Any Ring cycle predicates on Brünnhilde, for she is the real hero of the whole cycle. Brünnhilde is the real hero of the Ring because she's the one who breaks its curse. She's a formidably original personality who breaks rules.  Long before the opera begins. she's established her credentials. That's why she's Wotan's pet, for she's smarter than he is. Instead, Voigt simpers, pouts and acts coy like she's exceedingly pleased with herself.  There can be many ways to create Brünnhilde but this one goes against everything we can glean from the text, music and what we know of Wagner's philosophy. Whoever directed Voigt this way does extreme harm. If this is what the role is like at this stage in the saga, what will be be when it proceeds further?

Even Francis Ford Coppola realized how traumatic the Ride of the Valkyries should be. It's an apocalyptic nightmare, where warriors feud even after they're dead. Wagner's music is powerful because the Ride shows where greed leads.  So what do we get from the Met? Jolly cheerleaders in comic book costumes collecting neat plastic bones in gauze bundles. No matter how spirited the playing from the pit, the whole impact of the Ring is rendered trivial.  The production started out so well, so when it ends a mess, it's heartbreaking.

The wonderful first two acts of Die Walküre  prove that this new Ring has the potential to become one of the great classics. So why did it go so horribly wrong in  the Third Act? Were there two completely different directors, or did the Third Act die stillborn in embryo form?   So much has been invested in this project that it's hard to believe it's being left half finished. Perhaps it's a Lepage thing tio run out of steam but too many people were involved in this to make it a one-person show. What is really going on behind the scenes at the Met? Don't they want a good production to replace the last? The disparity between the two different approaches is so extreme it feels like an act of artistic sabotage, suicide or schizophrenia.

Blaming the Big Machine is a non-starter now that we've seen how good this production can be. Because the machine can undulate and contort, it's potential is huge, used imaginatively. At one point in the Second Act, the machine undulated, as if the ground underfoot was falling apart. Ominous flashes of red light, as if lava was about to spew forth. What a fantastic simile for the twisted moral ground in the plot! But the idea fades and instead we have safe, boring and bland. Let's hope Lepage and/or  the Met decide what they really want to do with this Ring. Whatever Wagner may be, he's not safe, boring or bland.

Live, Abbado, Mahler Das Lied von der Erde Berlin

Live on Wednesday 18th May, the anniversary of Mahler's death one hundred years ago. Claudio Abbado conducts the Berliner Philharmoniker in Mahler's Das Lied von der Erde, paired with the Adagio from what would have been Mahler's Tenth Symphony. LINK HERE.

This anniversary year has been marred  by too many jumping on the bandwagon. Abbado and the Berliners will, however, do the composer justice. This could be a concert to remember for a long time. Soloists are Anne Sofie von Otter and Jonas Kaufmann. I first encountered Kaufmann singing this at Edinburgh, years ago, when he'd just moved out of the Munich training system.  It was a disaster. As someone said at the time "But isn't Das Lied von der Erde a set of drinking songs?"  which kind of summed it up. "No, it's not", I wept.  Fortunately for all of us, Kaufmann has matured tremendously. Years ago I used to think he'd be best in repertoire that suits the soft focus of his voice - ideal in Strauss, Rossini etc - but his Lohengrin and Siegmund show he's developed. Anne Sofie von Otter's voice has become richer and deeper too, "warmed by life" which does count for something. There's more to Mahler than surface magnificence. What makes him what he is is, I think, emotional complexity, which comes from within.

I will be writing a full commenatry about this AMAZING performance later, but for the time being here arev two other posts on Das Lied von der Erde, one about the Chinese imagery and the other about more personal experiences.  Please come back, there's lots on Mahler on this site and original stuff you won't find elsewhere !