Terfel, Kampe, Salminen - a Wagnerian triumvirate

Richard Wagner: The Flying Dutchman (concert performance)



Baritone Bryn Terfel

Bryn Terfel The Dutchman
Anja Kampe Senta
Matti Salminen Daland
Martin Homrich Erik
Fabio Trumpy Steersman
Liliana Nikiteanu Mary

Zurich Opera Orchestra 
Zurich Opera Chorus
Alain Altinoglu conductor


15 December 2012, Royal Festival Hall, London
****************

Anja Kampe



This performance of Wagner’s opera came straight from the Zurich Opera House.  As a result this was not one of those stilted concert performances which howls for sets and props.  The singers immediately created engaging relationships with eachother and the Festival Hall stage.  When underpinned by Wagner’s orchestral narrative, the evening was as enthralling as any staged version.

The Steersman and Captain Daland brought out humour as well as atmosphere from the opening and only Mistress Mary was an awkward presence, seemingly in two minds whether to act out her role as a very coquettish 50 year old, or hold true to more formal conventions of concert performance.

 
Wagner’s opera tells the tale of the Flying Dutchman, doomed to sail the seas until the day of

Richard Wagner

judgment unless he is redeemed by the love of a true woman.  He can return to land every 7 years to find such a person and the opera starts as he meets Daland, discovers he has a daughter Senta and strikes a bargain that he will give the father all his dazzling treasure in return for marrying her.  And – who would have thought - Senta has a picture of the Flying Dutchman on her wall. She spurns the advances of the hunter Erik in preference for awaiting the doomed man.  She is ecstatic on the Dutchman’s arrival but in the end the Dutchman suspects she has failed him and sails off.  Senta proves her love by throwing herself from a cliff into the sea as the opera ends.

Alain Altinoglu was directing this performance and was unfussy and direct throughout.  This brought greatest benefits when the orchestra reaches full frenzy as the human and ghostly ship crews dialogue in the final act.  Elsewhere it was not a reading of the score to set pulses racing.  Probably just as well though, because the singers were setting the air alight.

The evening had been marketed with Bryn Terfel as the headline act.  What we actually received was a spectacular triumvirate of Wagner singers: Terfel sharing the stage with two unforgettable performances from Anja Kampe as Senta and Matti Salminen as Daland.  When the three sang together at the climax of Act 3 this was clearly a vintage Wagner evening.

Matti Salminen

Salminen was the first on stage and his interpretation combined a powerful voice (a little hoarse sounding although he is a ship captain) with a wry and engaging interpretation of the character.  He brought a depth to the role that took it beyond the simple opportunism that it suggests. The Steersman was nicely clear and true.


The entrance of Terfel ratcheted up the temperature.  This was a vocal masterclass as Terfel introduced the audience to the Dutchman’s massive existential angst.  His delivery of the repeated calling for the end of the world was unforgettable.  As ever his voice combined power with great attention to the words and a remarkable ability to speak very directly to the listener.    


Kampe and Terfel together in the Zurich production

So far, all was going very well indeed.  Then Act II began.  After a bumpy spinning chorus and that slightly jarring Mary, Anja took control.  Even before she sang she seemed to radiate the type of indwelling confidence that a Senta should have.  After all she ignores all advice around her to wait for and then commit herself to a cursed ghost.  Once she was singing it became clear that she had a powerful voice combined with real artistic bravery.  She evidently has a few Sieglinde’s under her belt – I would pay good money to hear that on this showing.  She was far from flawless – suffering a power-failure in the Act 2 duet with the Terfel – but she sang with a generosity and abandon which suited the role very well.  Some Sentas may bring a more girl-ish aspect to both voice and acting, but Anja’s sledgehammer high notes at the opera’s conclusion were electric.  She all but knocked holes in the back of the hall. 


If Senta delivered the greatest thrills and spills Terfel’s Dutchman is difficult to imagine being bettered.  The intensity of his stage presence and singing was breath-taking and when he and Senta finally clinch, the moment was remarkable for its strangeness: Senta seemingly in a trance, the Dutchman consumed with not missing his chance at redemption. Tender it was not.  This was a triumph and a golden Wagner night.
 

Opera House Zurich (above) or Royal Festival Hall (below): which would you choose?

A watery grave 

Antonin Dvorak: Rusalka
 
Wioletta Chodowicz Rusalka
Mischa Schelomianski Vodnik
Anne Mason Jezibaba
Ladislav Elgr Prince
Tatiana Pavlovskaya Foreign Princess
Glyndebourne on Tour Chorus & Orchestra
Jakub Hrusa conductor

9 November 2012, Wimbledon Theatre, London
********
 
As with so many fairy tales, this is a grim story.  The water sprite Rusalka falls in love with a prince.  But if she is to win him she must enter the world of humans and lose the power of speech.  Warned that this will be disastrous she goes ahead and finds that the prince tires of his mute bride and is drawn to a foreign princess.  Rusalka returns to the water cursed but the prince now follows and all ends dismally.

 
The opera turns on the duality of the water sprite’s world and that of the humans on land.  Glyndebourne’s production, directed by Melly Still, sought to convey this through elaborate choreography of the water scenes using long serpent tails and movement actors.  A tad over-fussy, it also proved quite intrusive when poor Rusalka is being lifted, spun and pawed by choreographic assistants as she sings her Song to the Moon.  This most famous music in Dvorak’s favourite opera was very nicely done by Wioletta Chodowicz, integrating it into the scene rather than separating it as an artificial “show-stopper”.

The wedding scene clearly had a good concept but the central angled walkway became a health and safety disaster when water was inadvertently spilt on it.  How the killer-heeled princess failed to fall remains a mystery, but it brought unwanted elements of drama to the celebration.

Don't slip!

Vodnik was a powerfully malevolent presence throughout and held our sympathies as Rusalka is undone at her wedding by the foreign princess.  His appearance at the climax of Act 2 was the musical highlight of the night.
 
All in all a fine evening at Glyndebourne on Tour, though this was a production with its heart in the sodden depths of the lake, which meant that the underpinning love story was underplayed.  While the tale is dark, it is the power of this love that triggers the plot.  At no point in Act 1 did it ring true – a fatal flaw.

Maazel finally delivers

Prokofiev: Romeo & Juliet ballet excerpts
Prokofiev: Violin Concerto No. 2
Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 "Pathetique"

Philharmonia Orchestra
Lorin Maazel conductor
Vadim Repin violin 

8 December 2012, Royal Festival Hall, London
******************** 

Lorin Maazel - teenage prodigy

A night that was never less than enjoyable finally achieved full lift off in the last movement of the Tchaikovsky.  After the histrionics of the third movement march the audience interrupted with extensive applause.  Maazel paused, and allowed an extended silence to intervene.  And then the great fourth movement lament was ushered in.  Maazel and the Philharmonia finally seemed to breath as one as he coaxed great monolothic phrases out of the orchestra in almost Brucknerian fashion.  The strings were at their most elequent in hushed pianissimo, and the conclusion was weighty and desolate. It was a masterly 10 minutes and worth the price of admission in itself. 
The Tchaikovsky had to that point been unimpeachably good, only held back by the Philharmonia's not always stylish contributions, whether in collective coordination or in individual utterances from the woodwind.  Maazel chose relaxed tempi but these navigated the emotional roller-coaster ride of this extraordinary work most effectively.  Much the same could be said of the Romeo and Juliet excerpts which scored big hits without removing the impression that the orchestral punches lacked the last ounce of sophistication.  Maazel started with a pungent Montagues & Capulets, proceeded onto the Tomb scene before ending with that most spectacular of show-pieces - The Death of Tybalt. 

Vadim Repin

Vadim Repin also delivered a cool Second Violin Concerto.  The first movement of this equivocal work did not entirely settle but the slow movement struck an excellent balance between the folk-derived emotion and Prokofiev's cool neo-classicism.  The finale was pressed on very urgently and spectacularly to its conclusion. 

Maazel today remains a conductor worthy of admiration.  His stick technique is a model of clarity, and he has a proven record of making the big moments count.  In New York I heard him resurrect in the last movement what had been a super-polished but sluggish reading of Brahms' 4th Symphony.  His Tchaikovsky in London formed a pair with that experience.  The magic again revealed at the end. 

Lorin Maazel in more recent years

A conversation at the ballet

A conversation overheard at the cinema during interval watching a live broadcast of the Royal Ballet between two well spoken ladies in the row behind me.  

Lady A:  ... afterwards I'll get a taxi up the road as I didn't bring my car here.  
Lady B: Do you live far away?
A: Oh not far, just in Hampton Road.
B: Oh well I can give you a lift, I'm going that way.
A: Well that's very kind of you.  Most kind.  Can I give you something for petrol money?
B: Oh no that's not necessary.
A: Well thank you again.  My name's Karen.
B: Mine is Susan.
[pause]
A: I'm going to New York next week, I hope to see the New York City Ballet.
B: Oh that would be good.
[pause]
A: Yes it will be all Star Wars and shopping.
[pause]
A: I'm a Jedi you see.
B: Oh?
A: Yes, I go to all the Jedi knight conventions.
B: Ah.
[Conversation ended by thunderous advertisement for Royal Ballet DVDs]

Prom 57 - Bach feeds 5000

Wagner: Parsifal – Act 3 Prelude and Good Friday Music

Berg: Violin Concerto

Richard Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier – suite

Ravel: La valse

Gustav Mahler Jugendorchester
Daniele Gatti conductor
Frank Peter Zimmermann violin 

26 August 2012, Royal Albert Hall, London

******************

The Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra was founded in 1986 by Claudio Abbado and draws its members from the UK to Russia.   With the normal Proms programme, concert-goers were handed a separate programme covering the GMYO's 2012 Summer Tour.  Having two parallel programmes was actually quite instructive.  The GMYO's was a heavily corporate production on the orchestra's 25th anniversary, complete with words from the sponsors, president etc, and even a rather earnest Mission Statement ("Talent with professionalism, Musicianship without borders, Dedication and enthusiasm", in case you were wondering).  There were also some nice clashes: the GMYO was "the leading youth orchestra in the world" in its own brochure, but only "one of the world's leading youth orchestras" in the Proms programme.

Parsifal at Bayreuth in 2010 conducted by Daniele Gatti.  Photo: Enrico Nawrath

Gatti chose Wagner and Parsifal to open the concert.  In 2010 he directed the opera at Bayreuth and is booked to return again to the Wagner mecca. The GMYO sections are impressive units, and Gatti coaxed a nicely blended sound out of the group as a whole, although some on the woodwind were rather under-projecting their solo lines.  The concluding sections of this luminous music were beautifully shaped by conductor and orchestra.

Frank Peter Zimmermann

Alban Berg

With the Berg we were in for a treat with Frank Peter Zimmermann playing the solo part. Even after many listenings, Berg's melancholy and disturbing Violin Concerto has lost none of its mysterious power.  Sub-titled "To The Memory of an Angel", it was composed following the death at 18 of the daughter of close friends. The heart of the work comes as Berg quotes Bach's chorale Es ist genug ("It is enough!") in the woodwind.   And Bach reappeared, unexpectedly, as the highlight of the evening.  Zimmermann delivered an encore, the gently rocking Andante of Bach's A Minor Solo Violin Sonata.  It is music of simple, profound genius, and it was indescribably moving to see the Albert Hall - that 5000 capacity Colosseum - unified and transfixed by Zimmermann's hushed lullaby. 

The second half brought a cavalcade of waltzes.  First up was the pastiche of doubtful authenticity taken from Richard Strauss' opera Der Rosenkavalier.  Here too the competing programme notes diverged.  Did Strauss have no involvement in it and probably would have disliked it (Proms notes) or did he compose it possibly with some assistance from others such as Artur Rodzinski (GMYO notes)?  Personally I prefer the Proms version, as Strauss would surely have loathed the way it does not follow his own poetic conclusion to the opera but instead reprises high spirits from Act 2, and some of the gear changes between contrasted operatic moments are laughably insensitive. 

Things were taken to a whole extra level of sophistication with Ravel's masterwork La valse.  It was conceived as a homage to the great waltzes of Johann Strauss, but the First World War intervened and by its completion in 1920 Ravel had rounded it off with a violent climax which breaks the waltz with a terse, military conclusion.  It is a classic example (along with Bolero) of Ravel setting up a strictly rhythmic musical structure which then goes haywire at the end.  The GMYO brought an impressive, lithe sophistication to the piece with excellent contributions from the brass section, but Gatti rushed his fences at the end which substituted a frenzy for what should be a shocking change of rhythm - a virtual waltz-murder.

Peter O'Byrne

Prom 52 - Cinderella complete at Proms for first (and last?) time

Prokofiev: Cinderella - complete ballet (1945)

London Symphony Orchestra

Valery Gergiev conductor

22 August 2012, Royal Albert Hall, London

******************

Sergei Prokofiev

A concert performance of an evening-length ballet is normally enough to set you running for the hills.  But if the ballet is by Prokofiev or Tchaikovsky then it is an entirely different matter.  And if Valery Gergiev is conducting then we have grown accustomed to it being a highlight of the festival.

Valery Gergiev

Gergiev brought his London Symphony Orchestra to the summer Proms festival in the middle of a mini-European tour together.  16 - 19 August saw them performing 4 nights at the Edinburgh Festival in a complete Brahms and Szymanowski symphonies cycle that will be repeated in London in the coming Barbican season.  After tonight's Cinderella, they play 3 consecutive nights at Festivals in Salzburg and Lucerne.  The LSO then heads off to play with other conductors while Gergiev continues onto Stockholm direct for 3 more nights, then returns to the Edinburgh Festival with the Mariinsky for several more nights to round off August.  As it happens conducting Cinderella again.

Such are the schedules of the summer festivals, but what of tonight?  Could they pull a Cinderella without dancers off?  In a word, no. Cinderella is a delightful score and contains some of the greatest moments in Prokofiev's output, such as the stunning midnight clock music and the Act 1 waltz.  Prokofiev's enormous melodic gift combined with his edgy modernism provides the alchemy that lifts this ballet out of the ordinary.  But it does not have the long dramatic lines that Romeo or Sleeping Beauty have and the first Act in particular suffers greatly without the visual dimension, much of it full of sardonic humour as Cinderella's two stepsisters Skinny and Dumpy quarrel.

So, with these artists it was never going to be less than a quality performance, but it did not scale the heights.  History would have told them that no one had done this ballet complete in concert at the Proms before.  Gennady Rozhdestvensky did conduct Act 2 complete once - a sounder choice.
 
And I must comment on the toothpick.  I've grown accustomed to Gergiev directing orchestras without a baton; just his famous fluttering fingers.  He does sometimes use a full length baton.  But tonight he was using a thin 10cm long stick in his right hand.  Have the LSO complained they can't follow his beat?  After all which of the fluttering fingers is marking time?  In his toothpick, there was at least a (tiny) point for the players to focus on.

Peter O'Byrne

Review - Antonacci sets Berlioz ablaze at the Proms

 

Berlioz: The Trojans

Bryan Hymel tenor (Aeneas)

Fabio Capitanucci baritone, (Coroebus)

Anna Caterina Antonacci soprano (Cassandra)

Eva Maria Westbroek soprano (Dido)

Royal Opera Chorus

Orchestra of the Royal Opera House

Sir Antonio Pappano conductor 

Royal Albert Hall, London, 22 July 2012

********************

Anna Caterina Antonacci as Cassandra (2003)

Berlioz described his opera The Trojans as "Virgil Shakespeareanised".  So the plot is based on Virgil's 1st century BCE poem Aeneid in which Aeneas escapes Troy as it is captured by the Greeks and goes on to found Rome after an extended dalliance at Carthage with its Queen Dido.  However the Shakespearean influence comes when Berlioz added elements drawn from his beloved Shakespeare such as Hector's ghost (modelled on Hamlet's father's ghost) and the interpolation of two comic Trojan sentries to undercut the pitiless tragedy of the final act.

Aeneas carrying his father (c.520 BCE)

   

From this text Berlioz composed a 4 hour, 5 act opera focused on the sack of Troy (Acts 1-2) and the story of Dido and Aeneas at Carthage (Acts 3-5).  In the grand French manner, the opera encompasses massive chorus scenes, extended wordless ballet sections and the formal requirements of the opera of the time (arias, duets etc).   Berlioz seems to have been ambivalent about Aeneas' character and so greatly expands the role of Cassandra in Acts 1-2 who leads the drama, foretelling doom as the Trojans party and welcome the Greek's wooden horse into the city walls.  Cassandra acts therefore as a counter-weight to Dido in Acts 3-5.

Bryan Hymel as Aeneas at Covent Garden (2011)

The recent Proms appearances of Antonio Pappano and his Royal Opera House forces have been clear highlights among the musical cavalcade this biggest of musical festivals offers.  And last night's Prom was again memorable.  Delivering opera in an un-staged format at the Proms lost more than usual in the extended ballet scenes.  That said, the Royal Opera House orchestra, liberated from the dark opera pit, played with verve and beauty, and the chorus were tremendously dramatic.  It is the music that benefits from these evenings, and while we all know that some opera obsessives seem to like anything but music, for the rest these Proms are true luxury occasions.

Anna Caterina Antonacci launched the evening in blistering fashion with a Cassandra of enormous  passion and depth of characterisation.  Her range of tone and emotion were riveting - a great performance.  Bryn Hymel's Aeneas may not have conveyed much inner turmoil but was comfortably equal to the tremendous vocal demands of this gruelling part.  Eva Maria Westbroek took Dido on a powerful dramatic journey from her initial satisfaction at founding her new city, to the depths of despair as Aeneas cruelly deserts her.

Apologists for this opera tell its story as one of initial incomprehension, being routinely cut and performed in two separate halves, then finally emerging into the light in the landmark 1957 Covent Garden performance of the work in its entirety.  Personally, I wonder if Berlioz might have ultimately cut a solid half an hour of the 4 hour work, with Acts 3 and 4 in particular dragging.  Berlioz's music is a unique and marvellous thing - luminous one moment, spitting fire the next, the thrills are frequent.  But in Act 4, Dido and Aeneas really want to sing a love duet, but are cruelly delayed for a solid 10 minutes while a quintet and septet are worked through.  An excess of musical formality just gets in the way.  

Peter O'Byrne

Review - Pires casts her spell with Haitink's LSO

Purcell Chacony in G minor (arr. Britten)
Mozart Piano Concerto No 20, K466 in D Minor
Schubert Symphony No 9 in C (‘The Great’)

Bernard Haitink, conductor

Maria João Pires, piano

London Symphony Orchestra  

10 June 2012, Barbican Hall, London 

******************

Maria João Pires

Bernard Haitink directing this vastly enjoyable concert with his usual clarity and insight.  A short, sober Chaconny from Purcell via Benjamin Britten opened proceedings before the piano took centre-stage and with it the evening’s highlight: Maria João Pires.  In today’s age of over-hyped piano youths, Pires is a beacon of true musicianship.  Hers is an unflashy, quiet and calm genius.  She makes no attention grabbing gestures.  It is as if she is playing for the private pleasure of herself and her orchestral collaborators, and yet for the listener what she does is rich and deeply moving. 

Her style was all the more striking in a performance of perhaps Mozart’s most dramatic piano concerto - K466.  The orchestra’s opening is a masterpiece of minor-key unease, more lyrical moments interrupted by stormy clouds. Then the piano enters with disarming, plaintive phrases.  Pires took her cue from this poignant moment, never seeking to generate storms of her own, but drawing out the tensions in the interplay between the orchestra and the piano's lyricism.  Throughout, the LSO woodwind provided some beautiful interplay with the soloist.

Pires never turned Mozart into a proto-Beethoven as some do and it was only in the notes that Beethoven did write – his cadenzas for this concerto – that her playing displayed some more pungent accents and flourishes.  Was it under-projected?  Definitely not.  It was entirely cogent and effective on its own terms.  The slow movement beautifully poised, and the Rondo finale brisk and dramatic.  Pires has achieved that consummation of artistry that replaces "art", in an artificial sense, with naturalness of expression.   She is perhaps an ideal Mozart pianist.  Haitink and the LSO certainly think so.  They play Mozart’s K488 concerto on Thursday and then play another two over a few days next February. 

After the interval, more delight came in the form of Schubert’s last symphony – Number 9 “The Great”.  This was vintage music-making from the Haitink-LSO team. Haitink emphasised the driven, military undertones of this piece, giving the timpani and brass some licence.   Occasionally there were enormous pauses.  Were we listening to Bruckner?  It was a nice effect, and Haitink is between Bruckner evenings in London (a 5th with the Concertgebouw Orchestra recently and the 7th on Thursday with the LSO).   At times, a little more space and Viennese charm would have been nice.  It is the central episode of the Scherzo that most calls for this, which with a Furtwangler becomes a golden moment.  I didn’t quite feel like getting up and dancing here.  But Haitink’s approach delivered its pay-off at the end of the last movement where the great pounding unison chords carried an extra charge of menace.  It was classic Haitink: the fruit of experience and a deep understanding of the work as a whole.   


Peter O'Byrne

Horse lost at Covent Garden

Verdi: Falstaff
Daniele Gatti, conductor
Ambrogio Maestri, Sir John Falstaff
Robert Carsen, director 
Royal Opera House Orchestra & Chorus

25 May 2012, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London
*************

As Act 3 of Verdi's late comic masterpiece Falstaff begins, a horse looks onto a corpulent knight lying in hay outside an inn.   Slumped in the corner, Falstaff sings despondently about the state of the world and seeks solace from feeding the animal some hay.  In Robert Carsen's new production of the opera for Covent Garden it is an actual horse - credited as "Rupert" in the programme - that looks onto the scene.  Not quite elephants in Aida, but it produced a reaction from the audience.

Are such staging stunts worthwhile?  While the solid, nuanced Ambrogio Maestri as Falstaff delivered one of his big solo moments in a work dominated by ensemble, it was hard not to be distracted by the animal and whether it was going to fluff its stage directions.  At least here the observer from the animal kingdom helped to deepen the pathos of Falstaff's fall from grace (in this case literally - having been thrown into the street from the window above at the end of Act 2).

For Verdi's opera, Boito conflated Shakespeare's plays of The Merry Wives of Windsor and Henry IV, centring around the merry Knight's pursuit of two wealthy married women which results in much mockery.  Later on in the same Act, Falstaff enters singing while seated on the same horse.  Here the animal is entirely superfluous, a mere platform led on gingerly by 3 attendants and then led off never to be seen again.  Horses in various forms make other appearances in this production set in the 1950s, replete with wood-panelled rooms and formica kitchens.   George Stubbs' masterpiece Whistlejacket hangs on a wall amongst an otherwise lacklustre set of horse paintings.  Falstaff looks set for a fox hunt at various points of the evening.  However Rupert the horse looks merely lost, his involvement seemingly bolted on, rather than an integrated element in a new production.

But there was great pleasure to be had from the evening.  If it was not for Verdi (and Rameau) the summit of opera writing would be entirely Germanic.  But Verdi's orchestration in Falstaff was a surprise, not least in some quasi-Wagnerian brass writing.  The singers were strong and even, and the big comic moments delightful, led by the quartet of lunching ladies with their "Desperate Housewives" formica kitchens. And amongst it all Maestri was a majestic physical presence, bringing out the nobility of Falstaff underlying his comical excesses.

Peter O'Byrne

Rapt Brahms from philosopher-virtuoso Volodos

Franz Schubert: Piano Sonata in A minor, D.784
Johannes Brahms: 3 Intermezzi, Op.117
Franz Liszt: Sonata in B minor

Arcadi Volodos piano

22 June 2012, Royal Festival Hall, London

***************

Anyone who has encountered the Sony recordings of Russian virtuoso Arcadi Volodos will know what an imposing musical personality he is.  But for London audiences he is only just starting to make regular appearances.  He started with a smooth and fluid Tchaikovsky First Piano Concerto in 2010 with the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra at the Barbican.  However Tuesday's recital displayed the full range of his wares.  

Arcadi Volodos

The Schubert Sonata D784 is a bleakly beautiful piece and right from the start Volodos cast an immediate spell which only the most determined coughers in the audience could resist.  He is unafraid of playing quietly and slowly, inviting the listener to enter his sound world, slow to his heartbeat and philosophise with him. 

The Opus 117 Intermezzi proved the genial highlight of the recital - classic Autumnal Brahms.  Volodos took a very broad and introspective approach.  It might have dragged.  Instead it was riveting. What oceans of rich tone he conjured from the piano, even at low dynamic levels.   The instrument purred and glowed and Brahms' full textures were lovingly guided and piled up.  Masterly.

The Liszt Sonata would have benefited from a firmer grip on the overall arc of the work.  Volodos pulled the dynamics around a lot, disturbing the underlying pulse and emphasising its tendency to feel episodic.   But what pianism!  Volodos has the kind of dynamic range which most pianists can but dream of.   His bass chords could be massive fortissimo eruptions or hushed and ominous intrusions - evoking dusty, windswept grave-yards.  Even at pace and volume he never played through his tone.  There were no rough edges in this sound-world.

Want to know more about this highly individual and prodigious artist?  Look no further than his astonishing 2006 Liszt disc on Sony with the Vallee d'Obermann and his own arrangement of the 13th Hungarian Rhapsody.  Technically, Volodos is the rare type of pianist for whom the phrase "super-virtuoso" is made.  Combined with his intensely personal and original musical vision he is, at 40, a musical talent to follow with great interest.   

Peter O'Byrne

Mariss Jansons cancels conducting lecture

Leading conductor Mariss Jansons was due for a double of events at London's Barbican Centre last weekend.  On Saturday 12 May an all-Strauss concert with his Concertgebouw Orchestra Amsterdam, and on Sunday afternoon 13th a conducting lecture/masterclass.  

However, ill-health meant the interval at the Strauss was longer than normal and then at 10am on the Sunday those like me that were to attend the lecture received this email: 

"Thank you for booking tickets for the Mariss Jansons and Peter Blaha Conducting MasterClass at LSO St Luke's today at 3pm. Owing to the indisposition of Mariss Jansons it has been necessary, at very short notice, to cancel this event."

For those who know Janson's medical history, the word "indisposition" is certainly not code for "had a heavy night".  Jansons father, Arvids Janssons, died of a heart attack while conducting an orchestra and Mariss Jansons himself also had a heart attack back in 1997 while directing La Boheme.  Jansons is both the very greatest conductor before the musical public and the most fragile.  May he have a speedy return to health.

Review - Solemnity and acclaim as Harnoncourt receives the  RPS Gold Medal

Beethoven Missa Solemnis, Opus 123

Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra of Amsterdam
Nikolaus Harnoncourt - conductor 

Marlis Petersen - soprano

Elisabeth - Kulman alto

Werner Güra - tenor

Gerald Finley - bass

Groot Omroepkoor (Dutch Radio Chorus)

22 April 2012, Barbican Hall, London

*****************

Nikolaus Harnoncourt

Conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt is a rare visitor to London, so the prospect of him directing Beethoven's epic Missa Solemnis with that Rolls Royce of orchestras - the Concertgebouw - was mouth-watering.  And it was a high-fibre audience that attended.  In my immediate vicinity at the Barbican were the directors of the Proms Festival and the Barbican Centre and the conductor Semyon Bychkov.

An ideas man, Harnoncourt was sure to be at his best in a work teeming with ideas.  Beethoven famously deploys military march interjections in the concluding Agnus Dei to undercut the prayer for peace in the mass text. However it was with an aura of calm that the performance was conducted.  With reverence and clarity, Harnoncourt directed his forces.  Not for him the excitable gear changes of others in this massive composition that Beethoven composed over 5 years towards the end of his life.  Originally intended for the enthronement of his patron Archduke Rudolph in 1820, Beethoven did not finish the work until 1823 and at 80+ minutes it reaches far beyond any practical liturgical purpose.

Not that it was leaden: the underlying dance rhythms were brought out, the Sanctus flowed smoothly and the Agnus Dei was as intense and draining as it should be.  Harnoncourt's vision was supported to the hilt by his very fine musicians: the Concertgebouw Orchestra was supple and refined, the Dutch chorus did not flag in a taxing work, and the soloists kept the histrionics to a minimum, producing a beautifully blended sound as a quartet.  Elisabeth Kulman's mezzo was nicely dark and withdrawn, while Gerald Finley's baritone entry in the Agnus Dei worked hard to not stand out too much from the chorus directly behind him. 

This was commmunal music making of a high standard and it was fitting that this preceded the presentation that followed.  At the end John Gilhooly (director of Wigmore Hall and President of the Royal Philharmonic Society) presented Harnoncourt with the RPS Gold Medal.  This must surely be one of the 2 or 3 most revered prizes for a musician.  It has been awarded since 1870 to commemorate Beethoven's birth in 1770 and its recipients are most exalted: Brahms, Richard Strauss, Elgar, Stravinsky, Bernstein and current leading musicians including Barenboim, Domingo and Boulez.  Harnoncourt's career leading the period performance movement and then transferring much of that skill to modern as well as period instrument orchestras places him centrally in the development of orchestral performance since the 1960s.

Harnoncourt's speech was a model: paying tribute to the composers without whom he could do nothing "for I cannot write a note!", he then accepted the award on behalf of all the musicians he has worked with for 60+ years because "without them I am but dust".

Review - Berliner Staatskapelle and Barenboim triumphantly conclude Bruckner week

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Piano Concerto No.22 in E flat, K.482

Anton Bruckner: Symphony No.9

Staatskapelle Berlin

Daniel Barenboim conductor

20 April 2012, Royal Festival Hall, London

********************

Daniel Barenboim and the Staatskapelle Berlin brought their week long residency to a close with the last and most awe inspiring of the lot - Bruckner's 9th Symphony - and a well deserved ovation.

Barenboim in (much) earlier days

They first brought great style and poise to Mozart's 22nd Piano Concerto.  Easily one of Mozart's best concertos, it contains unusual lyrical interludes for the woodwinds where the Staatskapelle players shone.  Barenboim's playing was equal to his orchestra - affectionate, spontaneous and revelling in the contrasts of the score.

...and in 2011

Barenboim chose some daringly spacious speeds for the Bruckner 9th.  The 9th remains incomplete with the fourth movement finale not finished at his death, but its 3 completed movements still make it perhaps the most far-reaching and profound of Bruckner's works.  The Staatskapelle were in fine form again in maintaining the line and tension, and produced richly satisfying Brucknerian climaxes.  The scherzo was tight, sinister and detailed.  The blazingly dissonant chord that marks the peak of the adagio was a perfect musical moment: punched out with all parts of the orchestra marvellously blended from the timpani through brass and woodwind to the strings.  Barenboim added his bit by extending the time the chord is held.  It was shattering, and its memory the perfect backdrop for the concluding pages.

This was a special concert to close a great Brucknerian week in London.  The appeal was multi-faceted: the poetic gift of Mozart, the cosmic ambition of Bruckner's 9th, the close partnership of the Staatskapelle Berlin and their chief conductor, and Barenboim's own personal connection with the London musical public. 

Review - Bruckner 8th Symphony played by Staatskapelle Berlin

Anton Bruckner: Symphony No.8
Staatskapelle Berlin
Daniel Barenboim conductor

17 April 2012, Royal Festival Hall, London
********************

Daniel Barenboim

After Monday's Bruckner 7th Symphony, Tuesday brought the biggest of the lot - the dark and mighty 8th played in solitary splendour with no accompanying Mozart concerto.

While many claim this is the greatest Bruckner symphony (I would say one of 5 or 9 myself), the 8th has eluded many seasoned Bruckner conductors.  Tuesday's concert again highlighted the joys of the Barenboim/Staatskapelle Berlin partnership.  They know eachother well so they can bring out the ebb and flow of Bruckner's works in the moment, and these concerts also bear the hallmarks of careful preparation. Bruckner again emerged with freshness without lacking weight.  Aside from some occasional discomfort in the brass and a lack of shape at the climax of the adagio, the playing was again of a very high standard.  Thinking back to the wonderful Lucerne Festival Orchestra concert of Bruckner's 5th Symphony conducted by Claudio Abbado, the Lucerne players had the edge in terms of sheer orchestral refinement.  However it is the Barenboim/Staatskapelle partnership that is producing the more engaging and thrillingly spontaneous interpretations.  This Friday the "Bruckner project" concludes with the 9th Symphony. I can't wait.

Review - Barenboim's Bruckner Project starts at Southbank

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart: Piano Concerto No.24 in C minor, K.491

Anton Bruckner: Symphony No.7

Staatskapelle Berlin
Daniel Barenboim conductor, piano

16 April 2012, Royal Festival Hall, London

*********************

Barenboim is on a roll at London's Southbank centre.  His 2008 performances of the 32 Beethoven sonatas were a major musical landmark.  They married powerful artistry with his particular star charisma and I've rarely seen a London audience receive a musician so rapturously. For once it was fully justified.

2010 brought fine performances of the 5 Beethoven piano concerti with his Berlin Staatskapelle orchestra. The only recent blot has been a splashy Liszt Piano Concertos evening with Boulez last year which for all its posturing rather sat back on its heels.  Now he has returned for a one week, three concert residency with this ensemble.  This visit finds Barenboim and the Staatskapelle measuring themselves against Bruckner's three last symphonies - all of them pinnacles of the symphonic repertoire.   Tonight's concert coupled the 7th Symphony with Mozart's 24th Piano Concerto in which Barenboim was himself both soloist and directing the orchestra from the keyboard.

This was very much a concert of two halves.  The less written about the Mozart the better, however the Bruckner touched greatness.

The Mozart 24th concerto is one of his most dramatic, yet tonight never achieved lift-off.  The opening failed to cohere and the orchestra remained tentative throughout.  Barenboim has plenty of experience conducting these works from the piano, but his playing seemed distracted and the cadenzas failed to catch fire.  None of this was helped by very slow tempi.

All was forgiven in the Bruckner.  Right from the start conductor and musicians were one - focused and confident.  The Staatskapelle played the opening movement with great  freshness and purity, and Barenboim gave the unfolding layers a sense of inevitability.  The concluding pages were thrilling in their majestic assurance. The adagio further illustrated the ensemble's integrated sound, richer than I recall from previous visits.  The Scherzo brought real attack and fire and the sometimes problematic finale was driven home in fine style.  Throughout Barenboim's control of structure, maintenance of forward pulse and flexibility in bringing out those wonderful Bruckner moments of repose and climax was exemplary - well in the Jochum or Furtwangler class.  This was a very intense experience.

There was an unusual occurrence at the end.  A couple of minutes before the end the first violins' playing wasn't to Barenboim's liking.  As the waves of applause started at the conclusion he was making some testy points to his concertmaster - someone had blundered.  A few minutes later they made up and Barenboim passed him a flower from his bouquet.   That the conductor should make such a public display of displeasure shows his serious commitment to his art, and it may have been the exalted heights achieved in the first three movements that made him annoyed at a blemish in the fourth.  Regardless, this concert will certainly rank as one of the best Bruckner evenings I will have the pleasure of attending.

Review - Royal Ballet perform Romeo & Juliet

Prokofiev: Romeo & Juliet
Royal Ballet, Barry Wordsworth conductor, Lauren Cuthbertson (Juliet) & Federico Bonelli (Romeo)

22 March 2012, Live cinema broadcast from the Royal Ballet, Covent Garden

************

A dilemma for arts companies broadcasting concerts, operas and ballets live to cinemas is how to best package the cinema experience.  Is it trying to create as closely as possible the experience of those actually at the event, or should it recognise the differences and opportunities of cinema and be distinct?  I tried these broadcasts out last December with the Royal Ballet's Sleeping Beauty and was pleasantly surprised.  The frisson of live performance was captured and enhanced by the focused cinema audience.  The advantages of the close ups of dancers, costumes and scenery showed how the modern camera can trump a pair of opera glasses in the hall.  Behind the scenes documentaries enhanced appreciation of the production as a traditional pre-concert talk would.


But this can go too far, as when the atmosphere was disturbed by deafening advertisements for Royal Ballet DVDs at intervals.  Too prosaically cinema for my liking.  And on that occasion by a tub-thumping promotion of the partnership of Lauren Cuthbertson and Sergei Polunin as worthy successors to Nureyev/Fontaine etc.

Prokofiev - also a chess fanatic

Things have not gone according to plan at Royal Ballet marketing.

Polunin left the Royal Ballet abruptly in January.  He was made the youngest principal dancer ever at 19 but said in interviews he wished to leave the punishing rehearsals and tedium of a ballet career.  So, on returning to the cinema for Prokofiev's Romeo & Juliet it was Federico Bonelli dancing with Cuthbertson.



Bonelli was strikingly charismatic and engaged very naturally with Cuthbertson, who was most subtle in her acting of Juliet as she develops across the ballet.  Prokofiev's score remains as stunning as ever, culminating in the grindingly powerful final scene at the tomb. 


But one request please.  Can cinema-goers be spared enthusiastic live tweets scrolling across the bottom of the screen at the curtain calls.  They are one sure way to destroy the illusion that you are in decent mid-stalls seats at Covent Garden.

Review - Budapest Festival Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall

Brahms: Tragic Overture, Op.81
Lalo: Symphonie espagnole, Op.21
Rimsky-Korsakov: Scheherazade, Symphonic Suite, Op.35

Renaud Capuçon (violin)
Budapest Festival Orchestra
Iván Fischer

4 March 2012, Royal Festival Hall, London 

 ****************

Forced to choose, I would vote the Budapest Festival Orchestra the best you can hear. All the great orchestras pass through London but none that combine the highest technical standards with such verve and interpretative panache.  For all their virtues, the Berlin Philharmonic can seem a little too suavely cosmopolitan, at times over-rehearsed.  The Vienna Philharmonic unengaged and alarmingly variable.  When roused, it is the Concertgebouw Orchestra of Amsterdam who deliver the same rich sound and personality, and even higher technical standards.  But it is the BFO that deliver an extra thrill with unexpected, fresh interpretations of even the most standard works and who always radiate love of music-making. 

They also have a tendency to play slightly retro programmes.  It's great to see staple repertoire from years past dredged up and presented with such commitment.  So here, the Brahms overture led into a violin show-piece - the Lalo Symphonie Espagnole.  It provided an opportunity for soloist Renaud Capucon to demonstrate an almost faultless technique and rock solid intonation.  He and Iván Fischer seemed intent on emphasising the serious qualities of the music although this could only go so far: there is no hiding the fact that it is shamelessly flashy.  The orchestra provided the characterful backdrop, while Capucon's 1737 violin (previously played by Isaac Stern) glittered, dazzled and stunned the audience.

The Brahms Tragic Overture that commenced proceedings was carefully shaped by Fischer, and in the final minutes packed a real emotional punch.  The Rimsky-Korsakov Scheherezade was predictably arresting in the BFO's hands.  Scheherezade adapts the Arabian 1001 nights stories into musical form, with the Sultan who has a bad habit of murdering his wives after one night represented by impatient brass entries, and the leader of the first violins adopting the role of Scheherezade who beguiles the Sultan with her stories so that her fate is put off for night after night.  The orchestra leader varied her contributions effectively so that Scheherezade's dark and urgent opening to the last movement was thrillingly contrasted.  She was paired very effectively at the front of stage with the excellent harpist.

Fischer opened the first movement of The Sea and Sinbad's Ship in daringly relaxed fashion.  The story is just starting, he was telling us.  The Kalendar Prince episode provided the usual opportunities for the woodwind to shine, and the oboist produced a matchless flow of super-creamy tone to stand out from his bassoon and flautist colleagues.  After a richly romantic Andantino, Fischer let the orchestra loose on the finale with breathless drive and stunning articulation.  The culmination, depicting a ship wrecked on a great rock, was equally driven and Fischer's literal approach here was a slight miscalculation where more breadth would have increased the impact of the climax.  But the hushed conclusion was marvellously handled, the solo violin harmonic floating high over the orchestra and finally drifting into nothingness, as if to suggest there were more stories to tell.

Fischer and his Budapest players were again setting the standard for the world's orchestras.