27 Feb 2007
Matthias Goerne at the Wigmore Hall
This wasn’t an “easy” program for dilettantes.
In its ongoing celebration of Verdi’s centennial year, the Los Angeles Opera offered a new production of Falstaff, the composer’s last and most brilliant opera — brilliant in every scintillating, sparkling sense of the word.
Poor Weber: opera companies, especially in England, do him anything but proud.
Acis and Galatea was one of Handel’s most popular works, frequently revived in his life time and beyond.
German tenor Werner Güra, who has made a speciality of the German lieder repertoire, opened this recital at the Wigmore Hall with Beethoven’s An Die Ferne Geliebte, the composer’s only song cycle and the first significant example of the form.
It’s been renamed “The Gershwins' Porgy and Bess,” it hails itself as “The American Musical” and further qualifies itself as “The Porgy and Bess for the Twenty-First Century.”
Richard Wagner wrote: "The voyage through the Norwegian reefs made a wonderful impression on my imagination; the legend of the Flying Dutchman, which the sailors verified, took on a distinctive, strange coloring that only my sea adventures could have given it.”
‘If she is adulterous, why is she praised? If chaste, why was she put to death?’
On Remembrance Sunday, Semyon Bychkov conducted Benjamin Britten's War Requiem at the Royal Albert Hall with Roderick Williams, Allan Clayton, Sabrina Cvilak, the BBC Symphony Orchestra, the BBC Symphony Chorus, Crouch End Festival Chorus and choristers of Westminster Abbey.
The mantle of tenor Peter Pears’ legacy hung heavily over his immediate ‘successors’, as they performed music that had been composed by Benjamin Britten for the man to whom he avowed, ‘I write every note with your heavenly voice in my head’.
One year since the launch of their project to create a contemporary book of Italians madrigals, vocal ensemble Exaudi returned to the Wigmore Hall to present an intermingling of old and new madrigals which was typically inventive, virtuosic and compelling.
Mozart’s The Magic Flute at the Coliseum could give the ENO a welcome boost.
Lyric Opera of Chicago’s current new production of Giacomo Puccini’s Madama Butterfly, an effort shared with Houston Grand Opera and the Grand Théâtre de Genève, tends to emphasize emotional involvements against a backdrop of spare sets.
Dmitri Shostakovich’s opera, The Nose, based on Gogol’s short story of the same name, was a smash hit for the Metropolitan Opera company in 2010 and once again, this season.
There might not be much ‘Serenissima’ about Yoshi Oida’s 2007 production of Death in Venice — it’s more Japanese minimalism than Venetian splendour — but there is still plenty to admire, as this excellent revival by Opera North as part of its centennial celebration, Festival of Britten, underlines.
With an absorbing production of Peter Grimes and a freshly spontaneous La bohème, Canadian Opera Company has set the bar very high indeed for its current season.
Whatever you think of some of the Metropolitan Opera’s recent productions, you cannot fault the Gelb administration for fearing to take risks.
The lustreless white tiles of the laboratory which forms the set of Keith Warner’s pitiless staging of Alban Berg’s Wozzeck offer little respite — cold, hard, rigid and severe, they are a material embodiment of the bleakness and barrenness of the tragic events which will be played out within the workshop walls (sets by Stefanos Lazaridis).
At this year’s Wexford Festival — the 62nd operatic gathering in this small south-eastern Irish town - the trio of operas on show present many a wretched battle between duty and desire.
At the heart of this Wigmore Hall recital were two sacred vocal works for solo countertenor and small instrumental forces, recently recorded by Florilegium and Robin Blaze to considerable critical acclaim: J.S. Bach’s cantata ‘Vergnügte Ruh, beliebte Seelenlust’ and Giovanni Battista Pergolesi’s ‘Salve Regina’.
After the bitter disappointment of
This wasn’t an “easy” program for dilettantes.
Audiences in the Wigmore Hall are formidably erudite and can appreciate a well-chosen programme of lesser known Schubert. Even if you didn’t know the repertoire, a mere glance at the texts made it clear that these were philosophic songs about cosmic anguish. Songs about Greek heroes pondering fate aren’t supposed to be cute and fluffy.
A friend who hears some 60 high level Lieder concerts a year, has heard all the greats in his lifetime. Yet even he said this was one of his most memorable experiences. Goerne turns 40 this year, and still hasn’t reached his prime but the depth and colour in his singing was astounding. “Schöne Welt, wo bist du ?”, he opens with passionate force, then almost immediately softens his voice to evoke the delicate “springtime of nature”, which lives on only in the “Feenland der Lieder”. The transit is seamless, and the myriad shadings of color in each phrase are achieved with effortless technique, so deeply assimilated that it comes as naturally as instinct. Several of these songs are rarities which Goerne only added to his repertoire for these two concerts, the second of which I attended, but you would never have guessed.
When Goerne sings, he intuitively inhabits the world of his songs. It’s as if he becomes a conduit for the music. Because we’re used to performers as stars with “persona”, it’s not so easy to adjust to performers for whom image is utterly secondary. It does make careful listening more important, because you can’t rely on non-musical clues like the performer’s “noble mien”. But what rewards careful listening repays ! Mayrhofer’s poems are comparatively straightforward but Goerne gives them the dignity Schubert heard in them. For example, “Der entsühnte Orest” resounds with rounded vowel sounds which Schubert reflects in his setting. The pattern isn’t obvious in a superficial reading of the poem, but Goerne curves the words to emphasise their roundness. Suddenly the “heimatliches Meer” becomes a vivid presence. Then when it starts to “softly murmur Triumph ! Triumph !” its role in the song is enhanced. The poem may dwell on worldly success, but in the final strophe we know that Orestes (or rather Mayerhofer, the poet who later drowned himself), will find peace in what the sea represents.
In “Meeres Stille”, Goerne evoked the endless depths of the water with exquisitely resonant deep tones, shaped so carefully that they seemed to pulsate. Holding and floating the notes like this vividly captured the image of the “deep silence” that “weighs on the water…..a glassy surface all round”. The pauses in this song are subtle, but important to the meaning. Goerne incorporates this “todesstille fürchterlich” by extending the line so it seems to hover in the memory while nothing is in fact being sung out loud. This song is famous and often performed, but never quite with the profoundity heard here.
Similar subtlety marked “Der Kreuzzug, where a monk watches knights in their splendour marching off to the Crusades. Goerne’s voice wraps sensually round words like “Seide” (silk), contrasting the image with the austerity of the monks cell. Then he sings the monk’s words with quiet dignity. “I am a pilgrim, just like you”. Then the intensity of the final verse wells up with dramatic intensity. “”Life’s journey through treacherous waves….is after all, a crusade too….”.
Through the recital I was struck by the way Goerne nuanced his singing, by varying depth and well as light and colour. As if he were painting in oils, he can create multiple shadings in a single stroke, blending and intensifying as needed. Oils are pliable, shaped by texture as well as colour : Goerne’s subtle adjustments from deep timbres to lyrical light add depth as well as colour. In comparison, so many other performances have come across like crayon drawings ! Masterpieces may not have the same immediate impact, but they reward deeper appreciation.
The pianist here was no less than Ingo Metzmacher, the conductor. A sympathetic pianist makes a huge difference, and Metzmacher’s contribution here was superlative. His playing was powerful and uncompromising. He was infinitely more inspiring than the milder Elisabeth Leonskaya who accompanied Goerne in a similarly difficult Schubert program in the Wigmore Hall at the beginning of the season. Sometimes a pianist needs to support and nurture : Metzmacher knows that this is a singer who can be challenged. And such results ! His firmness in “Philoktet” created a pulsing undercurrent, underpinning the voice. In “Das Heimweh”, he emphasised the “yodelling” in the piano part. It’s extremely important because it evokes the song of the milkmaid echoing across the mountains. Schubert knew no male voice could get the same effect, so he put it into the piano. Metzmacher’s interests lie very much in modern music, so it was particularly interesting to hear what he does with Schubert Lieder. He played the extended 11 note sequence ending “Abschied”, colouring each note distinctly, capturing the varying pauses. It beautifully confirmed the solemn, contemplative mood of the song, while still reflecting the prayer-like vocal line, to Goerne’s reverential “Lebt wohl, klingt klagevoll”.
This concert was a historic occasion, more so than the first night, because it ended with the presentation of the first ever Wigmore Hall Medal for exceptional service to song. This isn’t going to be a regular award, simply because such contributions are not routine, by any means. As John Gilhooly, Director of the Wigmore Hall said, it was being “dedicated with great affection” to Goerne who, in his 14 years of association with the venue has shown his belief in “all that the Wigmore Hall stands for”. Since the Wigmore Hall aims for the highest possible standards, and has done so for a hundred years, that is praise indeed. Excellence is never going to have populist appeal, but that’s not the point. It’s fundamentally more important to create goals to aim for in the first place.
Goerne beamed as he received the medal, but in his typical self-effacing way, chose to thank the audience by singing instead of making a speech. Never has “An die Musik” come over as sincerely and more heartfelt. I was quite overcome and didn’t realise until later that I was in tears.
© Anne Ozorio 2007