The Gran Teatre del Liceu in Barcelona, after suffering a calamitous fire in the early 1990s, reopened in 1999, lovingly restored. TDK has released a series of DVDs from the Liceu since that date, providing ample evidence of the world...
Premiered posthumously, the symphonic song-cycle Das Lied von der Erde by Gustav Mahler (1860-1911) remains one of his defining works because of its synthesis of song and symphony, two genres he pursued throughout his career.
In 1851 during his first season as music director in Düsseldorf, Robert Schumann presented a performance of Bach’s St. John Passion, and unsurprisingly adapted the score both to nineteenth-century taste and nineteenth-century practicalities.
The centrality of dance at the French court helped bring grace, order, and political allegory into the characteristic prominence they enjoyed during the reigns of Louis XIV and Louis XV; theatre presentations of all stripes were infused with choreographic diversions.
In tandem with the recently released set of Sir Simon Rattle’s recordings of Mahler’s symphonies on EMI Classics, the set of the complete symphonies by Jean Sibelius merits attention.
As much as Richard Wagner espoused opera reform in his theoretical writings by bringing to his works for the stage a closer unity between music and text, his actual means of doing so at times involved the use of orchestral forces that sometimes overwhelmed the sung word.
The budget label Gala purveys live performances both historic and relatively recent; of the three discussed here, the La Scala Fedora dates back to 1931, while the Attila comes from a 1987 La Fenice performance.
National styles of music in the seventeenth century were often distinctive, and in the case of French and Italian music, famously so.
With its recent release of Mahler’s symphonies conducted by Sir Simon Rattle, EMI Classics makes available in a single place an outstanding contribution to the composer’s discography.
This DVD records and commemorates a 1981 production of Parsifal in its Bayreuth lair, and the singers of 1981 are as fine as recollection might paint them.
Once the custom of the world's opera houses was to translate great operas into the language of each respective country.
Repackaging older recordings having become the primary focus of a classical recording company's business, Deutsche Grammophon budgeted some funds for art direction for its budget series called "Opera House" (although that appellation only appears in a link found on the back inside cover of the sets' booklets).
Of Rosenkavaliers on DVD, the classics tend to be lovingly detailed productions, going back to the film of Herbert von Karajan leading an exemplary cast, with Elizabeth Schwarzkopf's iconic Marschallin.
Despite an unsurprising degree of conservatism in liturgical music, devotional life in Rome often found ways of taking advantage of modern musical style.
“Her fioritura is priceless, breathtaking, and effortless.”
The English composer Nicholas Maw has been a major voice since the 1960's, with a wide range of works that include the 2002 opera, "Sophie’s Choice," a violin concerto for Joshua Bell (1993), and the monumentally-scaled orchestral work, "Odyssey" (1972-87).
As is often the case, last works that remain incomplete at the time of a composer’s death, are quick to invoke controversy and conspiracy theories.
This is a valuable new recording of a work that is only rarely heard, but was widely influential and wildly popular during the eighteenth century. Philosophe Jean-Jacques Rousseau wrote both the libretto and the music, with mixed success.
This disc is well worth the price for the first track alone: the opening measures of Jean-Féry Rebel’s “Cahos,” (Chaos), written in 1737 or 1738, may cause you to wonder if you accidentally left a Stockhausen or Ligeti disc in the changer.
This recording made half a century ago will not be anyone’s first choice unless one is a die-hard fan of one of the principal singers; neither of them belonging to the absolute top in their profession.
In a richly Bohemian folk-style, the Czech poet Karel Jaromír Erben produced a collection of enchanted poetry that inspired Antonín Dvořák to compose his expressive array of hauntingly dark tone poems. Ultimately, the main character of each poem suffers a tragic consequence for their transgressions, ranging from the thoughtless utterances of a frustrated mother, to disobeying a parent, to murder.
Perhaps it takes a deep-rooted understanding of Bohemian culture to understand why Dvořák would choose such grim fairy tales of death and misery as his theme for a form of composition quite new to the otherwise prolific composer. Quite possibly, it is the somber mood emanating from these poems that make them so ideal for musical expression. Whatever the reason, Dvořák waited until the end of his career to explore a musical form that by definition, transforms composer into story teller.
Simon Rattle’s lyrical qualities are ideally suited for leading a performance that paints pictures of innocence, love, greed, corruption, and grief. In this Berlin Philharmonic production, the different sections of the orchestra took advantage of the opportunity to showcase their mastery of musical phrasing essential to program music. Certainly, the long legato lines were executed with careful attention to phrasing, and with an impressive sweetness to the sound. The only quality that could arguably be said to be lacking in this performance is the roughness and/or ugliness of sound during particular moments that depict horror. However, it is just as valid to say that any exaggeration in the performance would detract from the storyline.
The first of these poems, “The Golden Spinning-Wheel,” warns audiences of the terrible consequences brought by deception and greed. In this particular “wicked step-sister” tale, a king falls in love with a beautiful girl whom he intends to marry. Out of greed and jealousy, the girl’s step-sister and step-mother kill the girl and attempt to disguise the step-sister as the girl – the disillusioned king marries the step-sister. Fortunately, the girl is revived by a mysterious man who finds her body. When the deception is revealed to the king, he has the step-sister and her mother thrown to the wolves for their treachery. Dvořák composed music to express this poem phrase by phrase, and Rattle impressively paces the orchestra so that the music comes through like a poetry reading. A notable feature worth mentioning is the solo violin playing the role of the beautiful girl, the king’s love interest. The Concertmaster delivers a stunning performance using an expressive and varied vibrato. The orchestra contrasts this beauty through disturbingly mysterious passages in the cellos and basses.
Continuing with the theme of malice, “The Wood Dove” describes the guilt-ridden conscience of a young woman who murdered her husband so she would be free to marry her true love. Eventually, her guilt denies her any happiness in her new marriage and she is drawn to suicide. Beginning with a funeral march, this poem seems less structured than the first with an almost “stream of consciousness” quality. Rather than remaining completely faithful to the text, it seems Dvořák chose to convey the emotions, guilt, and conflict of the tormented widow. The horns and bassoons, and later the cellos and basses, commendably communicated the underlying “guilt” theme that seemed inescapable.
The “Noonday Witch” retells the story of a frustrated mother who threatens her restless child with the wrath of the Noonday Witch. As the mother verbalizes the threat, the noonday witch appears, delivering a lethal blow to the poor child. Filled with regret, the mother loses consciousness after the ordeal, only to be revived by her husband, who at the realization of the tragedy expresses his own anguish. A dramatic transformation can be heard from the initial themes of a playful child and stern mother, to the ugly and horrid themes of the merciless Witch, to the heart-wrenching grief of the mourning parents depicted by a fortissimo roar from the orchestra.
In “The Water Goblin,” a young girl takes a stroll by a stream against her mother’s advice. As she nears the stream, the Water-Goblin, ruler of an underwater world, abducts the girl and forces her to marry him and together they produce a child. After time passes and the girl shares her longing to be with her mother, the Water-Goblin allows her to visit her home on the surface as long as she promised to return. To insure that she would return, the Water-Goblin insists that the child remain with him. When the girl is reunited with her mother, the mother locks her in the house so that she does not return to the stream. Angry at the girl’s betrayal, the Water-Goblin murders his own child and throws the body to the surface to punish the girl. The motives expressing the Water-Goblins rage are undeniable and forcibly interjected in otherwise serene passages.
Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic honored Erben and Dvořák by remaining true to the stories so that the poet and composer’s intentions were realized. Having become familiar with the poems prior to listening, it was quite easy to form a mental story board filled with the images described musically by such a commanding orchestra and conductor.
Nathalie Hristov
Music Librarian
University of Tennessee