The Sixteen continues its exploration of Henry Purcell’s Welcome Songs for Charles II. As with Robert King’s pioneering Purcell series begun over thirty years ago for Hyperion, Harry Christophers is recording two Welcome Songs per disc.
In February this year, Albanian soprano Ermonela Jaho made a highly lauded debut recital at Wigmore Hall - a concert which both celebrated Opera Rara’s 50th anniversary and honoured the career of the Italian soprano Rosina Storchio (1872-1945), the star of verismo who created the title roles in Leoncavallo’s La bohème and Zazà, Mascagni’s Lodoletta and Puccini’s Madama Butterfly.
Collapsology. Or, perhaps we should use the French word ‘Collapsologie’ because this is a transdisciplinary idea pretty much advocated by a series of French theorists - and apparently, mostly French theorists. It in essence focuses on the imminent collapse of modern society and all its layers - a series of escalating crises on a global scale: environmental, economic, geopolitical, governmental; the list is extensive.
Amongst an avalanche of new Mahler recordings appearing at the moment (Das Lied von der Erde seems to be the most favoured, with three) this 1991 Mahler Second from the 2nd Kassel MahlerFest is one of the more interesting releases.
If there is one myth, it seems believed by some people today, that probably needs shattering it is that post-war recordings or performances of Wagner operas were always of exceptional quality. This 1949 Hamburg Tristan und Isolde is one of those recordings - though quite who is to blame for its many problems takes quite some unearthing.
The voices of six women composers are celebrated by baritone Jeremy Huw Williams and soprano Yunah Lee on this characteristically ambitious and valuable release by Lontano Records Ltd (Lorelt).
As Paul Spicer, conductor of the Royal Birmingham Conservatoire Chamber Choir, observes, the worship of the Blessed Virgin Mary is as ‘old as Christianity itself’, and programmes devoted to settings of texts which venerate the Virgin Mary are commonplace.
Ethel Smyth’s last large-scale work, written in 1930 by the then 72-year-old composer who was increasingly afflicted and depressed by her worsening deafness, was The Prison – a ‘symphony’ for soprano and bass-baritone soloists, chorus and orchestra.
‘Hamilton Harty is Irish to the core, but he is not a musical nationalist.’
‘After silence, that which comes closest to expressing the inexpressible is music.’ Aldous Huxley’s words have inspired VOCES8’s new disc, After Silence, a ‘double album in four chapters’ which marks the ensemble’s 15th anniversary.
A song-cycle is a narrative, a journey, not necessarily literal or linear, but one which carries performer and listener through time and across an emotional terrain. Through complement and contrast, poetry and music crystallise diverse sentiments and somehow cohere variability into an aesthetic unity.
One of the nicest things about being lucky enough to enjoy opera, music and theatre, week in week out, in London’s fringe theatres, music conservatoires, and international concert halls and opera houses, is the opportunity to encounter striking performances by young talented musicians and then watch with pleasure as they fulfil those sparks of promise.
“It’s forbidden, and where’s the art in that?”
Dublin-born John F. Larchet (1884-1967) might well be described as the father of post-Independence Irish music, given the immense influenced that he had upon Irish musical life during the first half of the 20th century - as a composer, musician, administrator and teacher.
The English Civil War is raging. The daughter of a Puritan aristocrat has fallen in love with the son of a Royalist supporter of the House of Stuart. Will love triumph over political expediency and religious dogma?
Beethoven Symphony no 9 (the Choral Symphony) in D minor, Op. 125, and the Choral Fantasy in C minor, Op. 80 with soloist Kristian Bezuidenhout, Pablo Heras-Casado conducting the Freiburger Barockorchester, new from Harmonia Mundi.
A Louise Brooks look-a-like, in bobbed black wig and floor-sweeping leather trench-coat, cheeks purple-rouged and eyes shadowed in black, Barbara Hannigan issues taut gestures which elicit fire-cracker punch from the Mahler Chamber Orchestra.
‘Signor Piatti in a fantasia on themes from Beatrice di Tenda had also his triumph. Difficulties, declared to be insuperable, were vanquished by him with consummate skill and precision. He certainly is amazing, his tone magnificent, and his style excellent. His resources appear to be inexhaustible; and altogether for variety, it is the greatest specimen of violoncello playing that has been heard in this country.’
Baritone Roderick Williams seems to have been a pretty constant ‘companion’, on my laptop screen and through my stereo speakers, during the past few ‘lock-down’ months.
Melodramas can be a difficult genre for composers. Before Richard Strauss’s Enoch Arden the concept of the melodrama was its compact size – Weber’s Wolf’s Glen scene in Der Freischütz, Georg Benda’s Ariadne auf Naxos and Medea or even Leonore’s grave scene in Beethoven’s Fidelio.
Stanisław Moniuszko (1819-1872) was one of the most popular composers of his day in Poland, and of the many works he wrote for the stage, two are performed from time to time, Halka (1848) and Strazny dwór [The Haunted Manor] (1865).
The recent recording of Flis [The Raftsman] (1858) makes another of Moniuszko’s operas available to modern audiences, and it is a solid contribution to the discography.
With its libretto (in Polish) by Stanisław Boguslawski hinged on the conflicts resulting arranged marriage and the reunion of two estranged brothers, Flis is not as distinguished dramatically as it is musically. In this attractive score Moniuszko offers a convincing portrait of Polish life. The number that opens the work is engaging, with the chorus supported well by the colorful orchestral accompaniment. In the number which follows, the heroine Zosia has an extended number which is captivating for in its florid character. With folk elements convincingly fused into Moniuszko’s musical idiom, the piece stands apart for its bel-canto-like style. Soprano Iwina Socha demonstrates her facility well in this piece, and the duet with bass Janusz Lewandowski who plays the soldier Szóstak. Supporting the voices is a richly textured orchestra, which evokes at times the idiom associated with Carl Maria von Weber and also, at times, some of the operas of Donizetti.
As to the story itself, Zosia loves the raftsman Franek, sung by tenor Bogusław Bidziński, but her father Antoni (Leszek Skrła) promised her to Jakub (Michal Partyka). In obeying her father’s wishes, Zosia must forego Franek’s love for the stability of a marriage with the barber Jakub. Franek reluctantly relinquishes any commitment he had with Zosia. As a result Franek decides to leave the community to seek his long-lost brother. Yet the ensuing conversation with Jakub reveals that he is the very person Franek sought. The brothers are reunited and Jakub blesses the marriage between Zosia and Franek at the conclusion of this one-act opera.
As Franek, Bogusław Bidziński is impressive, with supple, lyrical voice which matches nicely the fluid soprano voice of Iwina Socha. Bidziński’s voice fits the role well, with technique to excel in the vocal demands Moniuszko required in the role. Bidziński’s aria with chorus is notable for the way it reveals his character musical, just as the earlier piece gave a sense of Zosia’s role. Yet the musical and dramatic highpoint of Flis is the quartet between Zosia, Franek, Antoni, and Szóstak, which demonstrates the contrapuntal skill Moniuszko brought to this score. It anticipates the concluding ensemble, which brings the work to a satisfying conclusion.
This is an excellent recording of a work that deserves to be heard. As much as the essay in the booklet that accompanies the recording mentions performances of Flis in the twentieth century, those occasions are, unfortunately rare. Here Moniuszko expresses his own voice well and gives a sense of style of opera, which was popular in Poland in the mid-nineteenth century. Moreover, this is a laudable effort of the Zamku Opera, which boasts a fine chorus and clearly. The conductor Warcisław Kunc deserves credit for the convincing performance, which seems as natural as if he himself composed the score. The sound on this recording is solid, with a good balance between the voices and orchestra. To its credit, Dux released the recording with a full libretto in the original Polish, along with translations in English, German, and Italian. Those who may know Moniuszko’s work through only Halka or The Haunted Manor or, perhaps, the songs on a recent recording by Jadwiga Rappé, may find that Flis will enhance their appreciation of the composer.
James Zychowicz