Subscribe to
Opera Today

Receive articles and news via RSS feeds or email subscription.


facebook-icon.png


twitter_logo[1].gif



Plumbago_9780993198359_1.png

9780521746472.png

0810888688.gif

0810882728.gif

Recently in Reviews

Birtwistle's The Mask of Orpheus: English National Opera

‘All opera is Orpheus,’ Adorno once declared - although, typically, what he meant by that was rather more complicated than mere quotation would suggest. Perhaps, in some sense, all music in the Western tradition is too - again, so long as we take care, as Harrison Birtwistle always has, never to confuse starkness with over-simplification.

The Marriage of Figaro in San Francisco

San Francisco Opera rolled out the first installment of its new Mozart/DaPonte trilogy, a handsome Nozze, by Canadian director Michael Cavanagh to lively if mixed result.

Puccini's Le Willis: a fine new recording from Opera Rara

The 23-year-old Giacomo Puccini was still three months from the end of his studies at the Conservatoire in Milan when, in April 1883, he spotted an announcement of a competition for a one-act opera in Il teatro illustrato, a journal was published by Edoardo Sonzogno, the Italian publisher of Bizet's Carmen.

Little magic in Zauberland at the ROH's Linbury Theatre

To try to conceive of Schumann’s Dichterliebe as a unified formal entity is to deny the song cycle its essential meaning. For, its formal ambiguities, its disintegrations, its sudden breaks in both textual image and musical sound are the very embodiment of the early Romantic aesthetic of fragmentation.

Donizetti's Don Pasquale packs a psychological punch at the ROH

Is Donizetti’s Don Pasquale a charming comedy with a satirical punch, or a sharp psychological study of the irresolvable conflicts of human existence?

Chelsea Opera Group perform Verdi's first comic opera: Un giorno di regno

Until Verdi turned his attention to Shakespeare’s Fat Knight in 1893, Il giorno di regno (A King for a Day), first performed at La Scala in 1840, was the composer’s only comic opera.

Liszt: O lieb! – Lieder and Mélodie

O Lieb! presents the lieder of Franz Liszt with a distinctive spark from Cyrille Dubois and Tristan Raës, from Aparté. Though young, Dubois is very highly regarded. His voice has a luminous natural elegance, ideal for the Mélodie and French operatic repertoire he does so well. With these settings by Franz Liszt, Dubois brings out the refinement and sophistication of Liszt’s approach to song.

A humourless hike to Hades: Offenbach's Orpheus in the Underworld at ENO

Q. “Is there an art form you don't relate to?” A. “Opera. It's a dreadful sound - it just doesn't sound like the human voice.”

Welsh National Opera revive glorious Cunning Little Vixen

First unveiled in 1980, this celebrated WNO production shows no sign of running out of steam. Thanks to director David Pountney and revival director Elaine Tyler-Hall, this Vixen has become a classic, its wide appeal owing much to the late Maria Bjørnson’s colourful costumes and picture book designs (superbly lit by Nick Chelton) which still gladden the eye after nearly forty years with their cinematic detail and pre-echoes of Teletubbies.

Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia at Lyric Opera of Chicago

With a charmingly detailed revival of Gioachino Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia Lyric Opera of Chicago has opened its 2019-2020 season. The company has assembled a cast clearly well-schooled in the craft of stage movement, the action tumbling with lively motion throughout individual solo numbers and ensembles.

Romantic lieder at Wigmore Hall: Elizabeth Watts and Julius Drake

When she won the Rosenblatt Recital Song Prize in the 2007 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World competition, soprano Elizabeth Watts placed rarely performed songs by a female composer, Elizabeth Maconchy, alongside Austro-German lieder from the late nineteenth century.

ETO's The Silver Lake at the Hackney Empire

‘If the present is already lost, then I want to save the future.’

Roméo et Juliette in San Francisco (bis)

The final performance of San Francisco Opera’s deeply flawed production of the Gounod masterpiece became, in fact, a triumph — for the Romeo of Pene Pati, the Juliet of Amina Edris, and for Charles Gounod in the hands of conductor Yves Abel.

William Alwyn's Miss Julie at the Barbican Hall

“Opera is not a play”, or so William Alwyn wrote when faced with criticism that his adaptation of Strindberg’s Miss Julie wasn’t purist enough. The plot is, in fact, largely intact; what Alwyn tends to strip out is some of Strindberg’s symbolism, especially that which links to what were (then) revolutionary nineteenth-century ideas based around social Darwinism. What the opera and play do share, however, is a view of class - of both its mobility and immobility - and this was something this BBC concert performance very much played on.

The Academy of Ancient Music's superb recording of Handel's Brockes-Passion

The Academy of Ancient Music’s new release of Handel’s Brockes-Passion - recorded around the AAM's live performance at the Barbican Hall on the 300th anniversary of the first performance in 1719 - combines serious musicological and historical scholarship with vibrant musicianship and artistry.

Cast salvages unfunny Così fan tutte at Dutch National Opera

Dutch National Opera’s October offering is Così fan tutte, a revival of a 2006 production directed by Jossi Wieler and Sergio Morabito, originally part of a Mozart triptych that elicited strong audience reactions. This Così, set in a hotel, was the most positively received.

English Touring Opera's Autumn Tour 2019 opens with a stylish Seraglio

As the cheerfully optimistic opening bars of the overture to Mozart’s Die Entführung aus dem Serail (here The Seraglio) sailed buoyantly from the Hackney Empire pit, it was clear that this would be a youthful, fresh-spirited Ottoman escapade - charming, elegant and stylishly exuberant, if not always plumbing the humanist depths of the opera.

Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice: Wayne McGregor's dance-opera opens ENO's 2019-20 season

ENO’s 2019-20 season opens by going back to opera’s roots, so to speak, presenting four explorations of the mythical status of that most powerful of musicians and singers, Orpheus.

Olli Mustonen's Taivaanvalot receives its UK premiere at Wigmore Hall

This recital at Wigmore Hall, by Ian Bostridge, Steven Isserlis and Olli Mustonen was thought-provoking and engaging, but at first glance appeared something of a Chinese menu. And, several re-orderings of the courses plus the late addition of a Hungarian aperitif suggested that the participants had had difficulty in deciding the best order to serve up the dishes.

Handel's Aci, Galatea e Polifemo: laBarocca at Wigmore Hall

Handel’s English pastoral masque Acis and Galatea was commissioned by James Brydges, Earl of Carnavon and later Duke of Chandos, and had it first performance sometime between 1718-20 at Cannons, the stately home on the grand Middlesex estate where Brydges maintained a group of musicians for his chapel and private entertainments.

OPERA TODAY ARCHIVES »

Reviews

09 May 2019

World premiere of Cecilia McDowall's Da Vinci Requiem

The quincentennial of the death Leonardo da Vinci is one of the major events this year – though it doesn’t noticeably seem to be acknowledged in new music being written for this.

Cecilia McDowall’s Da Vinci Requiem (world premiere) at the Royal Festival Hall

A review by Marc Bridle

Above: Da Vinci Requiem at the RFH

Photo credit: Andy Langley

 

It has never been just the quality of da Vinci’s output that puts this Renaissance polymath on such a unique pedestal – it’s the breadth of it as well. Vasari had suggested da Vinci was a talented musician – indeed, Emanuel Winternitz published an entire book in 1982 devoted to this subject alone – but it is probably the crossover into science and invention which most fascinated him in relation to music as a subject rather than composition itself.

It’s perhaps an exquisite irony – though I’m unsure whether it’s intended - that in Cecilia McDowall’s new Da Vinci Requiem – of which this was the world premiere – the first quote she should use from a da Vinci source comes from his Codex Atlanticus, dating from between 1478 to 1519, and which in its more than one thousand leaves contains many drawings devoted to musical instruments – some, it should be said, of quite unfathomable complexity. It’s almost a nice touch.

McDowall’s previous choral works – the Stabat Mater, for example - have singled her out as a composer with a gift for combining lyricism and romanticism in her music – it can sound expressive, and often is, though the scale of the invention always looks backwards rather than forwards. You sometimes feel when listening to McDowall’s music that the voice is not an overly distinctive one – and that often felt the case in this new work. Her scoring for the orchestra doesn’t always favour their sound against the chorus – though, I think, this is largely because she tends to evoke a darker, more resonant palate from the lower strings; I rather thought six double-basses was a tad less than ideal, particularly when the double woodwind and brass could often appear so strident. But there were some beautifully constructed moments – the opening of the ‘Introit and Kyrie’ with a penetrating harp gliding through the orchestra was inspired, and the almost relentless beating of the timpani had the hallmarks of McDowall’s profound use of rhythm in her music.

I felt a little unsure about the translations of da Vinci’s codices into English (though the long ‘The Virgin of the Rocks’ was beautifully done in a text by Dante Gabriel Rossetti and was written as such). Rossetti’s poem is the only part of this work which is based on an actual da Vinci painting which the poet had written while standing in front of the work in 1848. If you often felt McDowall was in tune to the underpinned chromaticism and sonorities of the requiem elsewhere in this work, there sometimes felt in this part of it a tendency to pull that apart. Rossetti’s text is dark, painful to read and haunted by death – and yet McDowall strives for music which is quite the opposite – it reaches towards a dissonance (though a restrained one), a jagged edge and the weight in the strings is notably absent. Perhaps because the painting evokes so much of a Milan ravaged by plague, and Rossetti’s text is a response to the revolutions which politicised Europe in the year it was written the music has a distinctly southern Mediterranean feel to it; it almost glowers like a spiky Spanish habanera.

The choral writing – if some of that for the two soloists occasionally doesn’t – is often a model of clarity, especially when the male and female choruses sing divisi. The ‘Benedictus’ invokes the separation of the two – one floating angelically, the other singing in plainchant. That problem with the soloists sometimes straining to be heard was pronounced in the ‘Agnus Dei’ where the soprano voice seemed muffled, unable to soar as she should; less of a problem, because McDowall simply orchestrates it so differently – and more lightly – was the penultimate section for baritone where the voice had clarity.

ceciliamcdowall9 (1).jpgCecilia McDowall.

Kate Royal, the soprano, and Roderick Williams, the baritone, were largely impressive. Royal’s voice can sometimes sound overly small, though the lyrical beauty is often penetrating and rather intense even if the vocal strength to push through the orchestra and chorus is lacking. As a contrast to Williams’s darker, richer baritone, which often towered skyward, the melding of the two voices felt beautifully stated. It’s not often that the two voices sang simultaneously – and when they did McDowall was pointed in drawing out the contrast. In the opening ‘Introit and Kyrie’ Williams evoked the rosary-laced Latin of the opening of the requiem whilst Royal intoned the first statement of da Vinci’s codex. Rossetti’s ‘Our Lady of the Rocks’ is given over to the soprano but I wasn’t really sure that Royal delved too deeply into the text – though in part, I’m not at all sure the music asks for that kind of response either. It’s the one section of this work which seems puzzling to me. Royal seemed challenged by the ‘Agnus Dei’, her voice simply overwhelmed even if she strove for an intensity which wasn’t quite within her reach; Williams in his singing of the final da Vinci codex was deeply responsive to its somnolence and finality.

Perhaps McDowall’s strength has always rested in her ability to write for a chorus, and here the Wimbledon Choral Society were magnificent. Nothing seemed out of place – the women angelic, the men monastic – the intonation and timing exquisite. Neil Ferris controlled the chorus, soloists and Philharmonia impeccably – though perhaps a few lapses in orchestral balance, notably in the sometimes searing brass, seemed a little rogue in places.

The first half of this concert had begun with Vaughan Williams’s Five Mystical Songs. George Herbert’s poems, on which the composer based them, are simple and the music reflects this. Despite Vaughan Williams’s famed atheism – and later agnosticism – what he composed for them can sometimes sound quite the opposite, though they never really strike one as having any real intimacy with religion. But Roderick Williams, as he was to subsequently be in the Da Vinci Requiem after the interval, is never less than a revelation. He probably brought a greater sense of personal meditation, reflection and intuitive intimacy to the texts than one might normally experience in a performance of this music – and which it certainly needs. His intonation and impeccable phrasing borders on the luxurious at times – just as the richness and depth of his baritone cuts through an orchestra with impressive strength.

Such hallmarks were equally on display in Martin James Bartlett’s superb performance of Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G major. What was so notable about this performance was how inside the music this young soloist was – this is a work which whips back and forth in a geometric pattern of pianistic invention. The mastery of the jazz elements, the dizzying keyboard trills, the shifts from major to minor keys were very impressively navigated. But it was fascinating during the Adagio to watch Bartlett almost disappear completely as he bent his head to almost touch the keyboard. There was no lack of freneticism in his playing, but neither was there a lack of skill in bringing off the work’s lyricism and expressive elements either.

Marc Bridle

Kate Royal (soprano), Roderick Williams (baritone), Martin James Bartlett (piano), Neill Ferris (conductor), Wimbledon Choral Society, Philharmonia Orchestra.

Royal Festival Hall, London; 7th May 2019.

Send to a friend

Send a link to this article to a friend with an optional message.

Friend's Email Address: (required)

Your Email Address: (required)

Message (optional):