24 Mar 2009
Katya Kabanova/The Magic Flute — English Touring Opera, Hackney Empire Theatre
English Touring Opera is 30 years old this year, and has never been more adventurous.
Opera Philadelphia deserves congratulations on yet another coup. The company co-commissioned Cold Mountain, an opera by Jennifer Higdon based on Gene Scheer’s adaptation of Charles Frazier’s celebrated Civil War epic.
For their first of two recitals at the Wigmore Hall, Christian Gerhaher and Gerold Huber devised an interesting programme - popular Schubert mixed with songs by Wolfgang Rihm and by Huber himself.
There are not many opera productions that you would cross oceans to see. Graham Vick’s Götterdämmerung in Sicily however compelled such a voyage.
Premièred in 1877 at Offenbach’s own Théâtre des Bouffes Parisiens, Emmanuel Chabrier’s L’Étoile has a libretto, by Eugène Leterrier and Albert Vanloo, which stirs the blackly comic, the farcical and the bizarre into a surreal melange, blending contemporary satire with the frankly outlandish.
Robert Ashley’s opera-novel Quicksand makes for a novel experience
One of the leading Russian composers of his generation, Alexander Raskatov’s reputation in the UK and western Europe derives from several, recent large-scale compositions, such as his reconstruction of Alfred Schnittke’s Ninth Symphony from a barely legible manuscript (the work was first performed in 2007 in the Dresden Frauenkirche by the Dresden Philharmonic under Dennis Russell Davies), and his 2010 opera A Dog’s Heart, based on Mikhail Bulgakov’s satire (which was directed by Simon McBurney at English National Opera in 2010, following the opera’s premiere at Netherlands Opera earlier that year).
I’m not sure that St John’s Smith Square was the most appropriate venue for Opera Danube’s latest production: Jacques Offenbach’s satirical frolic, Orpheus in the Underworld.
This nasty little opera evening in Lyon lived up to the opera’s initial reputation as pure pornophony. This is the erotic Shostakovich of the D minor cello sonata, it is the sarcastic and complicated Shostakovich of The Nose . . .
During December 2015 and presently in January Lyric Opera of Chicago has featured the world premiere of the opera Bel Canto, with music by Jimmy López and libretto by Nilo Cruz, based on the novel by Ann Patchett.
Christmas at the Royal Opera House is all about magic, mystery and miracles: as represented by the conjuror’s exploits in The Nutcracker — with its Kingdom of Sweets and Sugar Plum Fairy — or, as in the Linbury Theatre this year, the fantastical adventures of the Firework-Maker’s Daughter, Lila, and her companions — a lovesick elephant, swashbuckling pirates, tropical beasts and Fire-Fiends.
The title role is a deciding factor in Madama Butterfly. Despite a last-minute conductor cancellation, last Saturday’s concert performance at the Concertgebouw was a resounding success, thanks to Lianna Haroutounian’s opulent, heart-stealing Cio-Cio-San.
With this performance of vocal and instrumental works composed by the 10-year-old Mozart and his contemporaries during 1766, Classical Opera entered the second year of their 27-year project, MOZART 250, which is designed to ‘contextualise the development and influences of [sic] the composer’s artistic personality’ and, more audaciously, to ‘follow the path that subsequently led to some of the greatest cornerstones of our civilisation’.
Luca Pisaroni and Wolfram Rieger were due to give the latest installment in the Wigmore Hall's complete Schubert songs series, but both had to cancel at short notice. Fortunately, the Wigmore Hall rises to such contingencies, and gave us Benjamin Appl and Jonathan Ware. Since there's a huge buzz about Appl, this was an opportunity to hear more of what he can do.
The phrase ‘Sunday afternoon concert’ may suggest light, post-prandial entertainment, but soprano Gemma Lois Summerfield and her accompanist, Simon Lepper, swept away any such conceptions in this demanding programme at St. John’s Smith Square.
When, o when, will someone put Peter Sellars and his compendium of clichés out of our misery?
This recording, made in the Adrian Boult Hall at the Birmingham Conservatoire of Music in June 2014, is the fourth disc in SOMM’s series of recordings with Paul Spicer and the Birmingham Conservatoire Chamber Choir.
Having recently followed some by-ways through the music of Purcell, Monteverdi and Cavalli, L’Arpeggiata turned the spotlight on traditional folk music in this characteristically vibrant and high-spirited performance at the Wigmore Hall.
Edward Gardner brought all his experience as a choral and opera conductor to bear in this stirring performance of Michael Tippett’s A Child of Our Time at the Barbican Hall, with a fine cast of soloists, the BBC Symphony Orchestra and BBC Symphony Chorus.
‘Apt for voices or viols’: eager to maximise sales among the domestic market in Elizabethan England, publishers emphasised that the music contained in collections such as Thomas Morley’s First Book of Madrigals to Four Voices of 1594 was suitable for performance by any combination of singers and players.
It was a single title but a double bill and there was far more happening than Gordon Getty and Claude Debussy. Starting with Edgar Allen Poe.
English Touring Opera is 30 years old this year, and has never been more adventurous.
Later this year the company will be dispensing with the usual two- or three-opera tour format, as well as their now-regular opening venue of the Hackney Empire, in favour of a five-opera Handel festival at the Britten Theatre in this 250th anniversary year of the composer’s death.
For the spring tour, though, the format is largely the familiar one: an opera from the borderline of the standard repertoire paired with a popular hit that will guarantee consistent ticket revenues. As this is a major birthday for the company, there are a few concert performances of Norma thrown in for good measure — about which more in late April.
James Conway’s production of Katya Kabanova, with a set design by Adam Wiltshire, looks a little like a miniature version of Trevor Nunn’s 1994 production for Covent Garden, all grey colours and sloping wooden walkways. My only real complaint here would be that neither ETO’s production nor the orchestra made much of an attempt to evoke the Volga, whose presence is so central to the opera that it is virtually a character in its own right. As a minimum, Katya’s death plunge (a cramped and unconvincing affair) really needs sorting out before the tour goes much further.
In a fairly small space and with a reduced orchestra, the full lyrical power of Janacek’s scoring was never really going to be a possibility, though one could hardly have asked for better playing from the forces available. Conductor Michael Rosewell ensured that the the musical line was tautly controlled and powerfully driven, and paid detailed attention to the expressiveness of the more transparent and intimate moments.
But here the vocal performances made the greatest impression. The title role was compellingly and radiantly sung by soprano Linda Richardson, who managed to convey the essence of the lively spirit and physical beauty trapped behind the dowdy façade Katya has been forced to adopt. Mezzo Fiona Kimm was a truly despicable Kabanicha — and I mean that in the most complimentary sense. Like her Jezibaba in last autumn’s Rusalka, there was a grandeur to her stage presence which defied her petite stature; the physical contrast between her and Dikoy — the immensely tall and broad Welsh bass Sion Goronwy — made the nature of their relationship all the more telling. Colin Judson’s Tichon was a perfect portrait of a man who wouldn’t know how to stand up to his mother even if he wanted to.
Jane Harrington was an ideal Varvara, her voice and manner warm, lively and straightforward; together with Michael Bracegirdle’s Kudryash and Richard Roberts’s Boris, they made a vivacious trio of youngsters who served to highlight only too plainly how Katya’s own life might have been.
Onto the next night, and there was predictably a full house for The Magic Flute. When the curtain went up, it at first seemed that the production might be quite unconventional: Tamino’s serpent is a writhing chain of contemporary(ish) whores and playboys, his wilderness a human one. A clean-cut youth dressed smartly in a pale jacket, the prince (Mark Wilde) is an obvious outsider to the black and silver lace of the figures which dominate his nightmare world. There’s even some suggestion that Papageno (complete with fluttering birds borne by scurrying members of the chorus) might be a drug-induced hallucination, and Tamino is rightly unsure where vision ends and reality begins. The Queen of the Night makes her first appearance from the rear centre stage with an immense royal-blue train which fills the entire set; as she sings, it has rolling waves like a nocturnal sea. But as she turns to make her exit, the train disappears through a trapdoor leaving her clad in black; from then on, reality stabilises somewhat, and Tamino’s quest of self-discovery continues along more conventional lines.
Scene from The Magic Flute [Photo by Robert Workman courtesy of English Touring Opera]
The production remains slightly surreal throughout, being set in an enclosed room with panelled walls painted a deep blue, several doors and trap-doors, and an aperture at the rear which is used for grand entrances and whenever a visual focal point is required. The guiding role of the three boys (here sung by women, as is practical for a touring production) is underlined by their surprising costumes, with skirts made of lit lamp-shades. There are a lot of lights and lamps in this dark-coloured staging, but these are often confusing to the adventurers rather than illuminating; at one point a forest of standard-lamps springs up around Papageno as he searches for his Papagena. The young American soprano Paula Sides was a passionate Pamina, her soprano richer and more complex than is often heard in this role. Other than a slight hardness under pressure at the top of her voice, she sounded truly glorious, with some beautifully controlled pianissimo singing towards the end of ‘Ach, ich fühl’s’. Also vocally impressive was Laure Meloy as the Queen of the Night, again with a fuller and more refulgent tone than many; however, although she cut an imposing and elegant figure, her body language conveyed little in the way of rage and fury. Andrew Slater’s Sarastro had physical presence aplenty, but vocally he lacked weight and authority. Daniel Grice’s Papageno had energy and good humour although his bright and forward baritone was rather monochrome and unvarying in volume.
A little more variety would have been welcome in other areas too. In the pit, Paul McGrath started the overture with such pointed deliberation that I feared it could be a long evening, but if anything he tended towards the other extreme; ‘In diesen heil’gen Hallen’ had a folk-tune feel to it, and if ‘Ach, ich fühl’s’ had been any faster it would have been one-in-a-bar. Generally his approach succeeded in maintaining momentum, but it sidelined the moments of grandeur, reflection and calm.
Singing in Jeremy Sams’s gently humorous English translation (well-known to London audiences from ENO’s popular production), the cast generally did an excellent job with the English text.
Ruth Elleson © 2009