Mahler Symphony No 2 in C minor: Gewandhaus Orchestra, MDR Radio Choir, Andris Nelsons conductor, Ying Fang soprano, Gerhild Romberger mezzo-soprano

Well, here I am in Leipzig with 11 days of concerts and talks all focused on Mahler (and some of his contemporaries). I am intending to have side trips to Eisenach (the Bach House there), and Erfurt and Wittenberg for the Luther connections as well, but for the main, this is a Mahler-focused two weeks, which I am much looking forward to.

Having collected a battery of tickets from the Gewandhaus box office and a Festival Pass, my first stop was to go to a talk on Bach and Mahler by Dr Peter Wollny, the Director of the Bach-Archiv (actually there was a brief even earlier stop as I misjudged the timing, got to the Archiv half an hour early and so then spent 20 minutes in the Thomaskirche being royally entertained by a rehearsal for an evening performance of Haydn’s Creation by the Saxon Youth Symphony Orchestra, with the famous ‘And then there was light’ passage). Mr Wollny’s talk was very interesting, The Archiv had recently bought from a private collector the complete Bach edition owned by Mahler (59 volumes, with Maher’s edition of the Matthew Passion missing – they are still looking for it), published from the 1850’s to 1890’s., as part of its research interest in the reception of Bach’s music in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries.  5 of these volumes had annotations in Mahler’s hand. They relate to a series of ‘Historical Music’ subscription concerts Mahler had given in New York (at a time, whether in the US or Europe, when Bach’s music was still very unfamiliar), and his annotations for the performances he gave. What he essentially offered was a Bach version of a late Romantic ‘Bach Symphony’ – 4 movements chosen from different Suites to represent a trajectory similar to a Beethoven symphony  – slow introduction and Allegro first movement, Scherzo second movement, slow movement and fast final movement. Mahler’s annotations show that he was aware that the earlier view from Mendelssohn’s time, that one just played the printed notes on the page, was wrong, and that decoration was needed. Interestingly, though, there was no thought from Mahler of giving the performer more freedom to do this – the decorations / dynamics were meticulously laid out (in the same way as they are in his symphonic scores). Was he aware of the contrast between the imposition of his own views on Bach – mixing up Suites – and the micro-managed instructions for his own symphonies? – seemingly not (though it’s not clear whether he actually followed his own instructions when conducting his works, and certainly his pupil conductors all had wildly different views of how the symphonies went), It was moving to see three of these volumes on display, and realise that similar volumes would have been studied during Mahler’s summer composing retreats (Alma Mahler mentions he only ever played Bach in his composing hut), particularly the impact (in terms of Bach’s counterpoint) on the composing of the 5^th Symphony.

….and then on to Mahler 2………..I have heard many fine Mahler 2’s over the years – Klemperer, Haitink, Boulez etc. This was up there with the best of them. The seats I’ve taken for this Festival tend to be at the top of the Gewandhaus hall – at Festival prices, and with 11 concerts to pay for, that was more or less inevitable. The sound though in the hall is extraordinarily good – resonant yet clear, and, from where I was sitting, all-encompassing at the loudest moments (which you need with Mahler), Compared to say sitting in the uppermost area of the Barbican it is an altogether superb acoustic.

I thought Nelsons’ conducting was excellent – it wasn’t in any way ‘showy’, it didn’t draw attention to itself – the tempi seemed right and considered throughout; there was little that was extreme (but that didn’t mean it was boring!) and it was in the best sense a modest performance – meaning not that it was undramatic – it absolutely was! – but rather that orchestra and conductor were felt to be entirely at the service of the music. The whole of the finale – which at least until the climax of the march can seem excessively episodic – sounded as though it had a clear forward drive. I liked too the way Nelsons handled the dynamics – the loud was really loud, the quiet whispered.

What must people have thought of this work in the 1890’s? – it’s quite unlike anything that could easily be heard at that point. Even 130 years later, the violent hammering of the climax of the first movement is jarring – and it seemed so again at this performance, even after my familiarity of over 50 years with this music. Adorno says “Mahler charges tonality with an expression it is no longer constituted to  bear”. That strain was very clear in this performance, and the combination of orchestra and conductor’s approach to the music emphasised the screeching woodwind and the violence of the percussion and timpani. It is remarkable how Mahler uses music to prompt questions about ourselves, and the way we live our lives – really very little music does that so directly. The performers made the ‘shriek’ in the final part of the 3rd movement a very powerful statement that things ought to be better than the life we too often have

As before when I’ve heard the Gewandhaus Orchestra, the playing was truly remarkable – lovely flute playing at tha pivotal point in the finale, beautiful horn, oboe and clarinet playing, and some of the most emphatic timpani playing I’ve ever heard, together with the gorgeous phrasing of the strings – the thunder of the lower strings in the opening was memorable. The chorus was excellent and I really liked the contralto’s voice – warm and with many different colours; she offered us a memorable Urlicht

Inevitably there were a few niggles – the most important of which was that the soprano didn’t really emerge quietly and subliminally from the chorus in her first entry but came in with far too emphatic an entry. The brass had one or two fluffs to contend with – but these things happen…….But altogether this was an exciting, truthful and memorable performance

copyright DG

Bach The Art Of Fugue, Contrapunctus 14; Beethoven Septet; Brahms Piano Quintet in F minor

The programme for this afternoon concert was slightly re-arranged, so that the Bach was followed by the Brahms and with the Beethoven then in the 2^nd half, Unfortunately, it was really the Brahms I had come to hear, and as I was off to Leipzig the following day, I am afraid I gave the Beethoven a miss and sloped off after the Brahms, during the interval.

The pianist was Kathryn Stott, who is a ‘guest artist’ of the Music in the Round chamber music festival of concerts this week, all of which except for this concert I shall miss. The Brahms was a very invigorating performance and it sounded to me very fine – it is a bit of a sensory over-kill when you are seated literally 4 feet from the piano, downstairs in the Crucible and so the music washed over me in a series of undulating crashing waves. I was never bored, but would find it difficult to be objective…………………….

Francis Gush, Julius Caesar; Susanna Hurrell, Cleopatra; Alexander Chance, Tolomeo; Carolyn Dobbin, Cornelia;  Margo Arsane, Sesto; Edward Hawkins, Achilla; Kieron-Connor Valentine, Nireno . Orchestra, The Old Street Band, conducted by Sergey Rybin. Director, James Conway; Cordelia Chisholm, Designer

I went to a performance of this in Manchester about 4 years, from Opera North. Other than that, this work has pretty much escaped me as a live event – sadly the Janet Baker performances at the Coliseum I think were in 1984 – so after I went off to Egypt. I have Baker’s wonderful performance on record, and it has made me very much more enthusiastic about a mezzo in the role than having a countertenor. One thing, incidentally, that strikes me listening to that recording again is how comparatively loose and un-dynamic the orchestral playing under Mackerras seems nowadays. The period instrument band, and its approaches to performance style, can sometimes (in my view) lead to abominations in Mozart and Haydn, but with Handel, the lively playing, the energy and thrust, the speed, all seems to give a new dimension to these works. Undoubtedly the biggest element making this evening a successful one was the Old Street Band, who were outstanding – the strings energetic, pointed and stylish, some lovely oboe playing, and the horns getting through their famous Cesare aria without any glitches, and with some remarkably effective ornamentation at the end of that number.

It is interesting sometimes to go to a performance without having read the programme notes. The production was in 18^th century dress and that seemed throughout the performance a sensible choice and much better than togas and ancient Egyptian gear. Reading a review afterwards it became apparent that the director James Conway had intended a Britain (Rome) and France (Egypt) dichotomy in the costumes. I’m afraid nothing of this came across to someone who hadn’t read the programme notes – so a good idea not too well executed. Likewise, the appearance of Cleopatra in a vision to Cesare was meant to represent the Virgin Mary – creating confusion and horror in the bluff mind of the English Cesare – but again this was totally opaque to me. Other than that, the direction seemed effective – there was action during many of the da capo arias but not over the top. Possibly the scene in the third act which had a still exhausted Valentine, fresh from his sea adventures, at the back, and various combinations of a sleeping Cleopatra, Cornelia and Sesto plus Cesare looked a bit messy.  However, it was interesting that probably the most effective actor on stage was Cleopatra, who used her height and stage presence to often remain in stillness, without any busyness around her.  The set was versatile – in fact is apparently being used for the other two operas being shown in Buxton! There was a platform at the back, with steps down to the main stage; the middle part of the platform was extended forward the audience. The platform on the back had mounted on it a series of panels that could be replaced by curtains or drawn back to reveal a screen right at the back, effectively coloured blue towards the end.

All of the singers were good- there were no weak links. For me, and it is a personal thing, Susanna Hurrell’s Cleopatra was the best performance. Partly it is because she has the best arias, arguably, and while she didn’t cast the spell a great singer would do, her singing was varied, poised, always easy on the ear, affecting when it needed to be, and she coped well with the florid elements of her arias. I was also impressed by Carolyn Dobbin, as Cornelia, and Margo Arsane as Sesto. Cornelia was very much a strong stage presence while some of Sesto’s singing was beautiful.  I have a personal aversion to many counter-tenor voices – which is my problem. Cesare and Tolemeo were both very adequate – Tolomeo could have been hammed up more, possibly, and Cesare didn’t seem enough of a grizzled warrior. I think having a counter-tenor for Tolomeo makes sense, but I would still have preferred a mezzo (who in fact was originally planned for this run, apparently)

I think a few years ago ETO had performed a complete Giulio Cesare uncut over two nights. This one night nearly three hour version was easier to cope with and didn’t seem to have lost any of the major arias – a lot of recitative I think was cut, and some of the da capo arias didn’t  – e.g. Cleopatra’s ‘Da tempeste il legno infrar”, one of my favourites. But all in all, this was an excellent and thoroughly enjoyable evening reminding me again of Handel’s great genius

Conductor, André Callegaro; Orchestra, Early Opera Company; Arminio, Gabrielė Kupšytė; Tusnelda, Sarah Dufresne; Segeste, Josef Jeongmeen Ahn; Varus, Michael Gibson; Sigismondo, Isabelle Peters; Ramise, Kamilla Dunstan; Tullio, Kamohelo Tsotetsi. Director, Mathilda Du Tillieul Mcnicol; Set and Costume Designer, Noemi Daboczi; Lighting, D.M.Wood

This opera is based on events surrounding the Germanic leader Arminius’ leadership of an alliance of Germanic peoples to ambush Roman legions and their auxiliaries, led by Publius Quinctilius Varus at the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest in AD 9,. The story also involves Arminio’s wife Tusnelda and Varus’ love for her, together with the collaborator King Segeste who is her father. I am sure this is something I will never hear again live before I kick the bucket, so I really wanted to hear it. The opera was performed for the first time at the Covent Garden Theatre on 12 January 1737. Handel was working on several other operas at the same time. The opera was apparently liked by Handel’s admirers but not by the ticket-buying public. Anthony Ashley Cooper, 4th Earl of Shaftesbury wrote in a letter that he found Arminio to be “rather grave but correct and labour’d” (well worked-out) “to the highest degree & is a favourite one with Handel…. But I fear ’twill not be acted very long. The Town dont much admire it.” Arminio only saw six performances, the last one on 12 February. It was not performed again until it was revived in 1935, at Leipzig.

This may not be in the front rank of Handel’s operas and of course public neglect normally has some sort of reasoning behind it – perhaps in this case not enough truly memorable melodic material and no show-stoppers; in something like Alcina there’s just one ‘hit’ after the other…… But this was still a very interesting and enjoyable evening, lasting about two and a quarter hours, so I assume quite a lot of music had been cut. That may explain in part why the pace of the opera seemed admirably brisk in terms of narrative and musical pacing.

The set was simple – and all the better for that. There were two square platforms on either stage – one being Varo’s and Segeste’s office, the other a cell and Arminio’s bedroom. Action took place on these and an otherwise bare stage which sort of worked as a no-mans land between the ‘two camps’ . There was a spectacular battle scene at the conclusion, during which (maybe a cut aria here?) Varo meets Arminio in battle, is unable to kill him and then kills himself before the final happy ending – though it wasn’t quite clear whether Ramise was mixing whisky and ice or a poison for Segeste at the very end! The dress was modern – Romans wearing military uniforms, Segeste a suit. The ‘junior’ couple of Sihismondo and Ramise wore hoodie and puffer jackets. The only oddity was the curtains surrounding the two squares which swished electronically to open and close for different scenes as and when the singers were on the squares- this seemed to have no dramatic purpose and was a distraction (I overheard someone say in the interval they reminded him of being in hospital. Maybe another slight question in my mind, given the importance of the character, was the relative lack of arias for Varo – again were some cut, I wonder?

The story – one of whether to collaborate or revolt against an occupying power – was fairly clear, and obviously remains highly contemporary in theme, though the relationships were the usual opera seria farrago and I had trouble remembering who Sigismondo and Ramise were related to…..As said above, the work as handled by the director Mathilda Du Tillieul McNicol moved with great narrative briskness and with a lot of action happening too in the da capo arias – which could be dangerous in some Handel works but here was justified.

Hearing a period instrument band in this theatre is a joy – the violins zing and buzz. In addition to strings and various sorts of theorbo/lute, there was an oboe, beautifully played. There were also excellent solos by cello and violin in two of the finest arias, both sung by Arminio.

The singers were mostly those being given experience at ROHCG under the Jette Parker Artists scheme. Happily from my perspective there were no hooty counter-tenors – the originally castrato roles of Arminio and Sigismondo were played by women. All the singers justified the support they are being given. Perhaps the standout singers were those in the three main role. Gabrielė Kupšytė as Arminio was outstanding – she has a commanding presence on stage, very clear diction and the ability to point phrases beautifully, as well as dealing capably with the florid bits. Although he sometimes seemed a bit awkward or stolid on stage, Josef Jeongmeen Ahn as Segeste had a rock solid expressive voice with again very clear diction . Finally Sarah Dufresne as Tusnelda hit some lovely high notes and like the other two had the capability to tackle the florid runs in the big arias.

All pictures above and below by Marc Brenner

Falla La Vida Breve: Interlude and Dance; Bartók Violin Concerto No.2; Dobrinka Tabakova Earth Suite: Pacific; Stravinsky The Rite of Spring: Christian Reif conductor; Antje Weithaas, violin

Oddly this is only the second time I have been to the Bridgewater Hall this season – I have been to the Barbican more often……I’m not quite sure why; I guess I am doing a lot and there were several programmes I would very much like to have gone to but I was already booked to be doing something else on those days.

This was a well planned and enjoyable programme. There were several underlying connections between the 4 pieces which the evening brought out – three of them had folk elements; both the Tabakova and the Stravinsky have elements of uneasy stillness at their heart; three of them were written within twenty-five years of each other; none of them are really in any mainstream tradition.

The Falla got everything off to a lively start. But I always seem to have a problem with the Bartok piece and a lot of other works of his. I typically begin listening with enthusiasm and then lose the plot and drift away. Why this is, I’m not sure – I just don’t seem to be able to find a structure in either the first movement of this or the Viola Concerto that allows me to focus. I have similar problems with the quartets. It even happens to me with the lovely 2^nd movement of this work. I am sure this is my problem – as I write this, I am listening to the work again on the old SoltI / Kyung Wha Chung recording, and I’m having the same problem – there is a memorable opening theme, lots of incidental felicities/moments to enjoy, but somehow the whole is less than the sum of its parts.  The soloist – Antje Weithaas – with the Halle is not someone I have heard of before and she was very impressive in her technical grasp of the work, and (although she seems to have been a late substitute) clearly had a good rapport with the conductor. 

The Tabakova (she is a composer in residence at the Halle) piece I liked. This was another example of a new generation going back perhaps 70 to 80 years to pick up thoughts and trends before serialism became all pervasive. ‘Pacific’ was a still, attractive piece with a gradual swell of noise getting louder and softer and with a rather beautiful wandering plaintive melody on combined groups of woodwind and trumpet. I would like to hear it again.

The Stravinsky was superbly played by the Halle and was very exciting. I heard the work performed by the same forces a few years ago, with Elder conducting. This performance seemed tauter, snappier, more driven and undoubtedly more exciting. Yet at the same time there were details – particularly from the woodwind – I don’t recall hearing before, and it didn’t sound rushed. As the timpani and bass drum thwacked, and the motor rhythms got wilder and wilder, I got quite carried away……Reif’s conducting was extraordinarily precise and clear, one of the few times I have been able to work out what a conductor’s beat is actually beating!…..

Things are very quiet on who will take over from Elder at the end of the 23/24 season. They could do worse than this guy….I wonder who is in the frame for this post?

Conductor, Simone Young; Director, Robert Carsen; Set Designer, Paul Steinberg; Costume Designer, Brigitte Reiffenstuel; Lighting Designers, Robert Carsen & Peter Van Praet; Revival Stage Director, Paula Suozzi. Cast – Marschallin, Lise Davidsen; Sophie, Erin Morley; Octavian, Samantha Hankey ; Annina, Katharine Goeldner; Italian Singer, René Barbera ; Valzacchi, Thomas Ebenstein; Faninal, Brian Mulligan; Baron Ochs, Günther Groissböck

I have been to many excellent performances of this work. The one I remember with the fondest memories is the 1974 ROHCG production with Helga Dernesch as the Marschallin, and Yvonne Minton as Octavian, and the excellent Derek Hammond-Stroud fussing around as Faninal. This was conducted by Carlos Kleiber and I have a treasured memory, observed and heard from the Upper Slips, of Kleiber sculpting with his hands and arms the rising passion of the strings in the final big trio and producing one of the most gorgeous moments I’ve ever had in the opera house. But there was also the frequently revived ENO production of the mid/late 70’s – Anne Evans as the Marschallin, Josephine Barstow as Octavian and Valerie Masterson as Sophie, conducted by Charles Mackerras, which I saw many, many times (and I recently found, amazingly, a Feb 1975 clip on YouTube of the Presentation of the Rose from that production -https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6e2ajq_dYv8. More recently I saw this very same Carsen production at ROHCG in 2016, with Octavian sung by Alice Coote, and the Marschallin sung during her final year of performing the role on stage by Renée Fleming, This was excellently conducted by Andris Nelsons

There were several truly excellent aspects of this production, and little that was mis-thought (and nothing that was mediocre)

I thought the conducting of Simone Young was superb. It sounded as though she loves this work and knows it inside out. Her tempi were certainly not fast – Andris Nelsons were almost frenzied by comparison – but the result was not sluggishness but rather a loving approach to the work, allowing everything to have its weight and to flourish, with a lovely Viennese lilt where needed. A wonderful example was the orchestral surge that accompanies the Marschallin’s entrance in Act 3, which I have rarely heard so grand and heart stopping.  The Met orchestra played wonderfully and idiomatically, with a glorious string sound, confident whooping horns, and sympathetic woodwind

Rosenkavalier is one of those works that do not respond well to over-complicated directorial approaches. Carsen’s production updates it to the eve of WW1, which works well, and picks up on a reference in the libretto to make Faninal an arms dealer and manufacturer of howitzers. I thought the combination of Carsen’s directing, and the excellent ensemble acting, made the earlier part of Act 3 much more interesting than I have found it sometimes – it never seemed to meander or become tedious, and was at points genuinely funny. Having Sophie and Octavian on stage at the end spotlit on stage while the walls draw back and a huge howitzer appears is fair enough, but the rows of soldiers who stood up, pointed their guns at the audience and then collapsed provided a rather laboured and trivialised ending. Perhaps too (though maybe because of where the camera was pointing in a very crowded scene), it was unclear what the reasons were for Valsacchi and Annina defecting to Octavian. The antics of Ochs as ever seemed a bit over-the-top in the first act – Hofmannsthal’s fault , not Groissböck – and you wonder why the Marschallin would ever allow him to behave like that in front of her, but then maybe she is encouraging Ochs, knowing it is Octavian at the receiving end of Ochs’ endearments

In many ways the star performers were Ochs and Octavian.  Günther Groissböck portrayed Ochs as more human than he can sometimes be and less of a caricature – he acted extraordinarily well, often very amusingly, and particularly in Act 3. His was perhaps a lighter voice than some in the role but still he managed his growled low notes very well. Samantha Hankey did not to my ears have as luscious a voice as some who have sung this, but she was such an excellent actor, such a sensitive singer that this didn’t seem important. She was better at suggesting the masculinity and the teenage tantrums of Octavian than most I have seen

It seemed odd in a close up film (it wouldn’t have mattered in the theatre) that Sophie almost seemed in appearance older than the Marschallin. Lise Davidsen is an artist whose career I watch with great enthusiasm and interest. It has been wonderful to hear her singing two Wagner roles live (Sieglinde and Elizabeth) in the last year and I am looking forward to her singing in Don Carlos in June at ROHCG. I felt her Marschallin was still at an early stage in her portrayal of the role – the Act 3 part of the Marschallin’s role was very movingly done, and Davidsen is very good at being serious, with a glorious start to the Trio. The Act 1 Marschallin portrayal made maybe less of some of the lines than others have, and you do have to think – what a weight of tradition for a young singer to have to cope with in this role and in this house (emphasised by the Met broadcast, that did a historical retrospective of Marchallins at the Met, including Lottie Lehmann, Schwarzkopf, Kiri Te Kanawa etc). Maybe Davidsen’s Marschallin wasn’t enjoying herself with Octavian as much as she might………Erin Morley as Sophie was very good and very well-acted

I have to say – after almost 7 years absence – it was wonderful to sit through the entirety of this work again. The cinema was sold out and very appreciative

Director, Simon Stone; Set Designer, Chloe Lamford; Costume Designer, Mel Page; Lighting Designer, James Farncombe; Choreographer, Arco Renz. Conductor, Susanna Malkki. Cast – The Waitress (Tereza), Jenny Carlstedt; The Mother-In-Law (Patricia), Sandrine Piau; The Father-In-Law (Henrik), Christopher Purves; The Bride (Stela), Lilian Farahani; The Bridegroom (Tuomas), Markus Nykanen; The Priest, Timo Riihonen; The Teacher (Cecilia), Lucy Shelton

There’s been a lot of hullabaloo about this work – Simon Rattle’s comment that it’s a 21st century Wozzeck, for instance. Apart from the one piece mentioned below, I haven’t, I’m afraid to say, heard a note of Kaija Saariaho’s music before. I prepared myself for this dress rehearsal of the first London performance of ‘Innocence’ by looking at the video of the first performance in Aix on YouTube from 2021 with the LSO.

 I didn’t have time to watch the whole performance on video so I dipped in and out. I wasn’t overly impressed – dense slow-moving music, lots of sprechstimme – it sounded like it was going to be a long hour and three quarters in the theatre. I wondered whether it was nearer to a play with music than an opera. It seemed very different from the only other piece of Saariaho I’ve heard – the prelude to L’Amour de loin, influenced (according to the young Italian composer giving a talk I went to recently) by Wagner and an interest in spiritual matters. ‘Innocence’ seems very different  – though maybe there is some thinking in this work about how easy it is to be complicit with evil – Innocence therefore being an ironic title……..

Actually watching and listening to the work in the theatre was rather a different experience. The story concerns a school shooting at an international school in which 10 students die. Because the shooter is under the age of criminal responsibility he has a fairly lenient sentence and, 10 years on, is about to leave prison. His brother and parents have essentially in different ways blocked the shooter out of their lives, and Tuomas, his brother, meanwhile has found in Romania a girl (Stela) he wants to marry. However he tells her nothing about his family’s background. The opera begins at his wedding reception. At the last moment because of illness a late replacement is made of a waitress for the wedding, who is the mother of one of the 10 dead students. The opera is essentially about the relationships between the waitress, the bride, the brother and his family and reactions to the shooting. Interspersed with the depicting of these relationships are comments and tales from the students about the shooting and its aftermath, some of whom are clearly dead victims and possibly others who are survivors (it wasn’t always clear). By the end the bride has found out about her husband’s family, the waitress has been unable to find any sort of reconciliation or conclusion from her encounters with the shooter’s family, and the brother reveals to his parents that he was complicit in his brother, the shooter’s, killings.

The set is as in the video and consists of a two- layered four-quartered set, thus depicting up to 8 different scenes as it revolved. This is used very effectively to shift the scene from e.g. wedding reception to kitchen to flashbacks of the shooting at the school.

So how does this work as an opera? Several points:

– I was totally gripped by the piece for its duration in the theatre. So it is certainly an extraordinarily absorbing work, whatever its label.

– The different characters are well drawn and differentiated

– it has few of the lyrical moments one might expect from an opera and it is true that the sound world is relatively constricted  – dark strings, brass, drums and keyboards. It also proceeds at what sounds like the same rather funereal basic tempo throughout. And the students by and large and a teacher (dead?) use sprech stimme

– But it does have some lyrical moments – Stela’s singing of her betrayal by her new husband, and Tuomas’ singing of his complicity in his brother’s shooting. In many ways, the lyrical element is carried by the extensive and often moving choral writing, which was outstandingly performed by the ROHCG chorus – sometimes commenting on the action, sometimes part of it. The other absorbingly and definitely operatic element was the role of the waitress’ dead daughter, who was a music student, and who sings, miked, in what I assume is a Finnish folk idiom – I guess a kind of yodelling, herding song in essence,  and apparently specific to Saariaho’s home region – with a resonant ghostly echo. It’s in fact this daughter who provides the ending for the opera telling her mother not to remember so much so often – the dead, like the living, need space.

When I think of the complex levels of this piece, the mixing of living and dead, the mundane and mysterious, and the very specific atmosphere the music provides it is very difficult to see how this would work simply offered as a spoken word play. The music is integral to the impact of the piece. Some have described the work as ‘cold’ and I think there is some truth in that, and that the music could have offered more healing, more emotional release – but, again, this piece is resolutely bleak by intention and determined to avoid sentimentality at all costs

One oddity is the use of a number of different languages in the libretto. In one way this makes sense given that the focus is on what happened at an international school. I am not sure it serves any other dramatic purpose, though.

One thing that was unclear to me was whether the shooter brother actually appeared ‘live’ after the completion of his prison term – I think not, but wasn’t sure.

All the singers were uniformly excellent, Sandrine Piau, a Baroque specialist, I think, was the excellent Mother of the shooter and Christopher Purves his father. The Waitress (Tereza), Jenny Carlstedt, the Bride (Stela), Lilian Farahani; the Bridegroom (Tuomas), Markus Nykanen were all first rate.  Susanna Malkki seemed to have a total grip of the orchestra, conducting the clearest 4/4  I think I have ever seen from a conductor.

I am so pleased I went to this

Conducted by Antonio Pappano; Turandot, Catherine Foster;  Calaf, Russell Thomas; Liù, Ermonela Jaho; Timur, Vitalij Kowaljow; Ping, Hansung Yoo; Pang, Aled Hall; Pong, Michael Gibson; Emperor Altoum, Alexander Kravets; Mandarin, Blaise Malaba. Director, Andrei Serban; Set Designer, Sally Jacobs; Lighting, F. Mitchell Dana; Revival Director, Jack Furness

Despite my concerns about this work, voiced here in this blog before, I found myself drawn to going to see this live performance because of several factors:

• The amazing Ermonela Jaho, singing Liu
• The first chance to hear Catherine Foster in a major role in the UK, after years of performing in Europe, and particularly Bayreuth
• The accolades given to Pappano’s reading of the score, his first in a live performance
• The interesting contrasts/connections between this work and The Dead City (see previous review), both products of the 1920’s

The production is one of the oldest in the ROHCG range of current productions, dating back to 1984. I last saw in 2017 with Christine Goerke as Turandot

After the rather cross account I gave of the Met Turandot live screening slightly less than a year ago, I was wondering what I would make of the 40 year old Serban production. I have to say that by comparison with the monstrous Zeffirelli production the ROHCG seemed relatively modest and appropriate, and also, to the extent possible in this work, not racist.

The basic staging in the first two acts is a two tiered gallery in which a shadowy chorus sits, with wooden platforms and walkways at centre stage. Red ribbons are strewn across the stage at the beginning and end of the work. The gallery splits up in the third act to something like a garden with appropriate Chinese style pavilions and lattice walls. There is a group of masked dancers who comment on the action. The Chinese aspects of the spectacle seem considered and respectfully handled. The Emperor comes down from the flies in a golden throne, Liu is taken off in a giant dragon hearse after dying in Act 3 and there are splendid heads of the various executed princes, which Ping, Pong and Pang work on. The executioner has a lumbering cart. None of these effects seem over the top or condescending

Musically this was a very fine evening indeed. Pappano brought out clearly many different strands of the music I’d never heard before, with the Stravinsky of Petrushka a particular influence. Some of the music – of the Act 2 Riddles, of some of Ping, Pang and Pong exchanges – sounds almost like Berg. There were many phrases delivered with bite, panache and pointing that made you feel you were hearing  the music with the cotton wool of tradition somehow removed

It was very exciting to hear Catherine Foster for the first time – I had hoped to hear her in Elektra in 2020, but that got scuppered by Covid. The first performance of this production in 1984 featured Gwyneth Jones as Turandot. 40 years later Catherine Foster rather reminded me of her –  a similarly big powerful, gorgeously-sounding voice, like Jones with a bit of a vibrato, but with the ability to sing softly with great beauty. Like Jones, her acting was rather of the semaphore variety. I would love to hear her as Brunnhilde or Isolde – it is extraordinary that she has been singing these heavy Wagner roles at Bayreuth since 2010 yet this run of Turandot is the first time she has been heard doing anything with one of the big UK opera companies since 2001. It was very pleasing to hear her for the first time. Pappano seemed similarly pleased when the two met on stage in curtain calls……….I hope that’s a good sign for the future. But it beggars belief why ENO, for instance, with their ill-fated Tristan in 2016, didn’t seek to employ Foster rather than the not wholly adequate American soprano they used instead (though admittedly having to learn the role again in English might have been something Foster was not prepared to do.)

Ermonela Jaho – who was also Liu in the Met screening – gave an outstanding performance. She is a powerful presence on stage, knowing that less is more. Her ability to use her voice with colour and imagination is extraordinary. In the first act she fined her powerful voice down to a floated whisper as she sung of her suppressed love for Liu. Rightly she, along with Pappano, got the biggest ovations.of the evening.

Russell Thomas  was also very good. I heard him as a very competent Otello a few years ago and the qualities I remembered were on display here – a credible and commanding presence, powerful voice with top notes pinged out with ease and without any audience anxiety, but perhaps not so much musical subtlety….which anyway is hardly baked into the role of Calaf, and wasn’ta major factor.

A very enjoyable evening……

Michael Volle, Falstaff; Ailyn Pérez, Alice Ford; Jennifer Johnson Cano, Meg Page; Marie-Nicole Lemieux, Mistress Quickly; Hera Hyesang Park. Bogdan Volkov. Nannetta and Fenton; Christopher Maltmann, Ford. Daniele Rustioni, conductor; Robert Carsen, director; Paul Steinberg, designer; Brigitte Reiffenstuel, costumes; Robert Carsen and Peter Van Praet, lighting

I’ve seen a number of productions of Falstaff over the years. I remember seeing performances by Tito Gobbi in the 70s with Colin Davis conducting and Norman Bailey as Ford, as well as Georg Solti and Geraint Evans.  I also remember a very effective performance a few years ago by a small NW Wales company in Buxton with a reduced orchestra but with the sense of fun in the work really coming across. I have always admired the work for its utter economy and craftsmanship as well as the beauty of the many melodies that fly out of the orchestra and are quickly absorbed into the hectic action or sudden moments of stillness.

The Carsen production at the Met is shared with ROHCG amongst others (like the Carsen Rosenkavalier also on at the Met at present and to be screened in two weeks time). It sets the opera in the 1950s, though oddly Falstaff’s dress coat and hat (and the men’s chorus at the end) looks more Regency than anything else.  Alice Ford has a very nice kitchen with all mod cons in the second act while Falstaff meets Ford/Fontana in a rather fusty gentleman’s club. I suppose the 50s settings did no harm but equally they didn’t particularly illuminate. The third act  scene 1, in the innkeepers barn with high windowed walls from which the conspirators could hear various encounters with Falstaff (and with a live horse) was very effective. The last, Windsor Forest, scene seemed a little misconceived – the high walls folded back and we saw a dark night sky with stars- but not much else. This made the spirits and general gathering of tormentors a bit too obvious and explicable. However the large dining table wheeled on at the end was a nice touch. What was good about the production, generated I assume by the combination of a talented cast and a good revival director, was a substantial sense of a team working together and really enjoying themselves in the process. Everyone was really responding closely and quickly to what others were singing and doing.

Musically the performance was very good indeed. A lot of this had to do with the conducting of Daniele Rustioni, which was tight and exciting. He had the ability to make sure that all the ensemble work, which really has to fizz in a totally accurate way, was deftly handled. At the same time, he drew out some beautiful phrases and inner voices from the orchestra that I don’t recall hearing before. The last chorus was done superbly – rhythmically tight, and all the strands of music clear, a real celebration by the old man of all he had achieved in his musical lifetime amidst much sadness and pain. Having also very much enjoyed Rustioni’s conducting of the Trojans in Munich, it makes me worry a bit as to whether ROHCG made the right choice in rejecting him as Pappano’s successor.

The new names to me in the cat were Hera Hyesang Park as Nanetta and Marie-Nicole Lemieux as Mistress Quickly. The latter had a gorgeous deep contralto voice, and was very funny – she was able to make fun of herself in her movements and really offered in singing and presence a bubbly, very loveable presence – she was clearly enjoying herself hugely. Nanetta had a beautiful light soprano voice – maybe slightly too considered in her acting, but, still, very good indeed . I was very impressed too by Christopher Maltman as a very slimey Ford, and Ailyn Pérez as his, beautifully acting and singing, wife – both seemed naturals in their roles. In fact there really wasn’t a weak link. And Michael Volle was extraordinarily good – not overdoing Falsttaff’s grossness, totally absorbed in the character, good-looking and young enough to make it appear not totally unreasonable that he had a (very, very outside) chance with Alice and Meg, and for the screening a fascinatingly detailed mix of facial expressions. His singing was both strong and sensitive where needed. There can’t be many singers who can sing both Wotan and Falstaff with equal distinction (though I note Hans Hotter did)

So all in all, the Met at its best, IMHO.

Kirill Karabits, Conductor; Annilese Miskimmon, Director; Miriam Buether, Set Designer; Jess Farncombe, Lighting Designer; Rolf Romei, Paul; Allison Oakes, Marietta and Voice of Marie; Lauren Bridle, Marie; Audun Iversen, Frank/Fritz; Hubert Francis, Graf Albert; Sarah Connolly. Brigitta; Rhian Lois, Juliette; Clare-Presland, Lucienne; William Morgan, Victorin; Innocent Masuku, Gastone

Die Tote Stadt is a work I have been aware of for a long time, since poring through the pages of Opera magazine in the late 70’s / early 80’s as this opera began its re-appearance in the German opera house repertory. I was very excited over 40 years later to see it in the Loughborough Festival’s 2022 offering with Rachel Nicholls, and I booked a ticket – unfortunately the long journey to Moreton – in Marsh got scuppered by a rail strike and I had to cancel that. I was therefore very pleased to see this production coming up, never having heard a note of the work before. Was my excitement justified? By and large, yes. It is a marvellously orchestrated work, lush, sparkling, firing on all cylinders, with touches of Mahler, Wagner, Puccini, a dash of Lehar, and particularly Richard Strauss – a kaleidoscopic experience that is built on the principle that if you can have 15 rather than 10 lines of instrumental scoring at any moment in the work, the larger number always wins out. At the same time, compared to the Miracle of Heliane, a slightly later work, it is more melodious and less crushingly dense and polytonal in sound texture (see review from this sort of time last year)

Is it a rediscovered masterpiece? No – there are several defects: 1. It’s quite a long evening, and I felt that it could have been pruned by about 20 minutes to good effect, particularly the sequence with Marietta’s acting/dancing friends, a poor relation to Zerbinetta and co in Ariadne auf Naxos; 2. The libretto is occasionally a bit clunky, segueing a bit too obviously into the ‘big’ arias and romantic moments. 3. Somehow also the libretto (a product of Korngold himself and his domineering father, a true successor to Leopold Mozart in the management of his child prodigy son) seems unbalanced (I felt we could have done with more of Paul’s dreary life in the ‘tomb’ of his museum to Maria before he meets Marietta, and perhaps less of the psychotic dream). Also the ” it was all a dream after all” seems to devalue the experiences we have gone through with Paul and Marietta – in fact the production deliberately blurred the distinction between what was reality and what was dream, maybe as a response to that.

But for all that, I would happily see the work again – I would go to a second performance on this run, if I weren’t so busy – and am thinking that I should buy a recording of it. The opera deals with loss and grief, and moving on from these, at an emotionally powerful depth, and these themes are of course universal – they explain why the post First World War audiences were gripped by the work, and its continuing relevance for us today after the recent pandemic. There is a lot of simply gorgeous and memorable music that is growing on me – particularly of course Marietta’s Song, which is new to me. And it is of course an extraordinary achievement for a 23 year-old. There are lots of connections – timing, idiom, attraction for an audience when first performed – with Strauss’ Die Frau ohne Schatten, though undoubtedly the latter work is in a different league

So what of the production and the performance? The setting was a possibly 1920’s (some reviews said 1950’s) large room, and the singers were costumed somewhere early to mid-20th century. The back wall of the room lifted up at points to reveal a see-through gauze curtain through which shadowy figures could be seen moving in procession with lots of smoke – Marie’s re-enacted funeral and other moments (curiously the funeral figures seemed more late 19th century). The overall colour scheme was greys, blacks and browns with then Marietta standing out in greens, blues and other vivid colours. The acting was very good – Rolf Romei gave a terrific portrayal of Paul, throwing himself around the stage with passion and energy. In what I imagine is a tricky role to get right, Allison Oakes was an excellent Marietta whose acting performance was never over the top, always creating sympathy for the character; it must be easy to exaggerate things on this role. In terms of singing the supporting cast was led by Sarah Connolly no less as Birgitta the maid, a warmly sung portrayal, and Paul’s friend Frank was sung beautifully by Audun Iversen (a Norwegian singer with international experience and no particular UK connections – so much for ENO supporting mainly British singers). Allison  Oakes (a new name to me)    as Marietta was quite a find – she is British but like Catherine Foster (who I am seeing next week in Turandot) she has built her career in Europe, and she is now singing the heavy Wagner roles in Germany; her voice sounded wonderful in the Coliseum acoustic: powerful, able to sing quietly to beautiful effect and without stress or wobble in the higher register. Rolf Romei  as Paul was announced as ill – one sensed that he was holding back some of the time and a few top notes cracked, but he was clearly and powerfully experienced in signing the role. At the end of the day, though, it’s the orchestra and how it is handled that is the remarkable thing about this work, and this Kiril Karrabits and the ENO orchestra performed the work marvellously, with the Coliseum acoustic ideally suited to this sort of sound. I’d very happily see and hear this work again