The David S Operaworld blog

A series of commentary on the world of opera and of serious music hopefully with links to items of broader cultural interest, correlation with the subject at hand. There is plenty of room here for a certain amount of clowning around and general irreverence - not exclusive to me - but of course no trollers or spam please. Blog for coverage of the BBC PROMS 2010 - with thoroughly proofread/upgraded coverage of the 2009 Proms and of much else.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

HGO Lohengrin - a vague, intellectualizing experiment - Summers debut conducting Wagner

Patrick Summers, in conducting his first Wagner opera anywhere in the world had sufficient craft to get through Lohengrin without it collapsing at any point, such as happened under Christoph Eschenbach for Lohengrin here in 1992. At the same time, that this is Houston and Houston Grand Opera, is that for all this alone, we owe some great debt of gratitude that we can only achieve Wagner this well under our music director here for already ten years. In fifty-four year history of HGO, this is their only second Lohengrin therein.

We have in this a Lohengrin and Elsa near top echelon in the international circuit for singing these parts, yet it sounded as though the world sure must suffer from a real dearth as to casting Wagner anymore. I can though think of several names with which perhaps with which we could do better than the two people we enlisted for this, but it may be difficult to book them here.

Houston Grand Opera has borrowed a production from Geneva by Daniel Slater, who has some experience at both second-tier British houses and Glyndebourne in mostly comic opera. Regardless, he could have given us a better Elisir d’amore, for likely it being less pretentious in addition to not glibly unaware of the score or of the music as the Arden production of that last week. Lohengrin here looked inoffensively generic, other than incidentally archetypal of anonymous modern totalitarian state, with armbands on some of Lohengrin’s coterie, followers to perhaps indicate outsider status of sorts.

Mystifying most of all was the Lohengrin - other than his having emerged from shadowy silhouette with his successor at stage rear during the prelude. Instead the whole evening of there being some form of mystical ‘other,’ he appeared most of the way through this as just some ordinary guy one might meet, let's say, in downtown Leipzig. There was some kind of swan insignia to apparently follow him around, as became evident during ceremonies closing Act Two. Other than that, it was hard to tell it was Lohengrin.

The sets were an overall drab brown and grey and for Elsa’s entrance in Act 2 through a wall up close to front of the stage, with several panel frames through which heads could stick out, butt-ugly. For the scene that preceded all this, there was little purpose for the wall other than against which could ping the voices of Ortrud and Telramund. Lighting, except for some incidental glaring effects, was good. Friedrich’s seemingly murderous subduing of a refugee - one out of group huddled about - and dragging his corpse across front of stage, to Elsa’s music closing her scene with Ortrud, looked merely awkward.

The stage two-thirds through Act Two then opened out for a great hall, with desks for office files to stage left, lit by conches, and two floors of library shelves at rear, from which emerged a small group of maidens in flamingo pink, to herald Elsa’s bridal train. They then distributed flowers amongst gathered crowd - small wreath of which to indicate villainy Ortrud then trampled under foot. Light then on purpose, became unremittingly harsh for opening of large door for bridal procession to pass through it. The famous bridal chorus was sung with chorus standing lined up in rows at stage front, with rectangular box glaringly lit right behind.- new light caramel colored boudoir (Bold and the Beautiful or Lohengrin?) for bridal pair. Elsa toward end of this scene pulled back the sheets – with things getting somewhat past hope of anything happening - as hope offered momentarily of things getting going pretty quick. It almost gave too underlined a new meaning to ‘anonymous sex.’

For downright silly, nothing could quite top the outcome of the death of Telramund, who with large gash in his side perhaps as mortally wounded precursor to Amfortas. There he was bleeding to death on the bed, staining badly bridal sheets for unconsummated newlyweds. The opening out of the rear of the stage for final entrance of Gottfried was nice, but the presentation to this short fair-haired brown-shirt youth of a gigantic sword verged on insipid. Apart from that, Slater settled for much simple blocking of his forces, Ortrud appearing to be some kind of apparatchik secretary, lurking about through most of Act One. If Slater was going to be revisionist, it would seem he might have come up with something interesting for March of the Vassals, as opposed to for moment it is over a brief show of army slowly parading back and forth.

Ryan McKinny (Herald) and Gunter Groissbock (King Heinrich) vocally started off the evening well, but McKinny, when push would come to shove, would stray quite a ways off pitch. The best vocal performance of the evening was the HGO debut of Groissbock, who sang with secure line, good legato, and firmly resonant voice, and brought measure of all-purpose dignity to his part, except while crudely rushed through invocations for Elsa’s knight to appear. The dignity here was all-purpose, since on the surface of things the King seemed to be one of the good guys, but at the end of the day here, toward benevolent or malevolent purposes, it was hard to say.

Richard Paul Fink repeated his (by now well known) Telramund from under Eschenbach seventeen years ago here. At that time, as heard over the air, the voice was one he was trying to push into being something larger than it actually could ever be, as encouraged no doubt by Eschenbach. This time around, his experience as Alberich at a number of major houses, and experience overall factored in, fortunately at the end of the evening to more advantage than not. The voice tends now to hollow out considerably at midrange however, and with the heavy miking and wall right behind him for opening scene of Act Two, it was hard to deduce how much volume was really his he could produce. The intrusion of now a Bayreuth bark, during which the voice can emerge more spoken than sung, thus often vague in intonation, still cut through a bit here, yet for finale to Act Two he achieved practically firm legato and rhythmically secure line to rival Groissbock.

Christine Goerke sang Ortrud with somewhat firm grasp of line, but at times extremely vague in pitch, with chin somewhat down, grabbing at notes alternatively from above and below, and cutting what amounted vocally most of all as little more than a generically menacing figure on stage. She was exposed more than was Fink by the removal of the wall, to show fatigue from the slightly extended stretch Wagnerputs Ortrud through for opening scenes of the act. A somewhat hard, vaguely quacky sound then emerged, but then for her brief moment of monologue up until two minutes before end of evening, Goerke changed placement effectively to lyric dramatic soprano from mezzo and finally really incisively got whatever the point might be across. Eschenbach, after rehearsal skirmish with his Ortrud (Dunja Vejzovic), did his level best to drown his Ortrud out for this same passage.

Simon O’Neill, by so frequently sounding strained in both dramatic profile and vocal character, thus did not abet matters in any attempt to identify what became basically as unidentifiable to us as to any Elsa. The voice is a pleasant lyric, as evident by being able to start some phrases with a decent mezza voce. However, it gets squeezed very quickly when pushed into singing what might carry any dramatic potential. Without choral forces being light and gratuitous miking, it is hard to tell how much better than not he would have fared. This was a Lohengrin that frequently sounded, came across anti-heroic.

One reads of Adrianne Pieczonka being the toast of Vienna, Salzburg, Bayreuth, but after hearing her Elsa, I must ask as I have in the past why. The instrument, especially if unencumbered by any real vocal challenge is lovely, as is her stage appearance, apart from being cool and glib at times, but pitch can be uneven, negotiation of the break is just noticeably unstable, and legato all patchwork. Whatever sense of wonder “Einsam in truben Tagen” and “Euch luften” (the latter cruelly undercut by bad staging) should have was lost. Apart from considering that the Bridal Chamber scene went well for her, there is hardly any accounting for a certain laziness that takes over of arbitrarily taking breaths every three or four notes that so arbitrarily break up legato (as in brief duet with Ortrud) Elsa this way becomes little more than a wallflower, a cipher. This was though a fine piece of work compared to literally the painful screaming Tina Kiberg gave us last time during the bridal chamber scene (paired with then fine lyric Wagner tenor in ascendancy as such - Goesta Winbergh)

Patrick Summers, though efficiently being able to get through Lohengrin without any embarrassing episodes, such as happened here before with previous total novice at it, gave at best approximate understanding of what Wagner and his Lohengrin are about. Thanks to slightly rushed tempos, making little of relationships between different passages in this score and of transitions between them, this performance of Lohengrin hung fire all too often. There were those places, especially in finding diaphanous sonorities for lyrical pages, and in firm enough grasp of rhythms in almost equally sporadic passages elsewhere that gave tentative hope of something emerging of halfway the real thing in terms of a Wagner podium here. What did not help however were several things – the frequently to almost constantly randy, out of tune brass playing, as crudely encouraged more by Summers from how things started once halfway into Act Two and beyond. The thin string tone and chamber sized choral forces, when especially working at pianissimo sounded more appropriate for Finzi or Brahms chamber choral music than for Wagner. With what forces were there and as miked, choral preparation by Richard Bado was convincingly very fine.

Violins sounded thin, precariously out of tune to open the Prelude to Act One, a bit ragged at opening of the Third Act Prelude - strings overall a bit skittish during March of the Vassals under blaring brass (though better that than the invasion of locusts that it sounded like invaded the still relatively new Wortham Center for this seventeen years ago). Double basses as led by Dennis Whitaker were firmer than one could ever hope for the past thirty years to draw out of the Houston Symphony. The Symphony played Lohengrin in 1992; this year was the HGO Orchestra’s debut at playing it. Trumpets, led by Jim Vassallo, were frequently out of tune and the principal clarinet made next to nothing out of the melancholic closing reminiscence of the opening of the Bridal Chamber Scene. Music for offstage winds and brass right after the start of Act Two - diegetic music for festivities in progress off-stage- got played very loud, it seemed, coming from the orchestra pit.

Frequent rushing through numerous passages also became annoying. The herald’s antiphonal trumpets were underlined for a more pedantic start to this scene than usual; all the rest of the scene then got merely rushed through, making the choruses, miked, sound like cross between Slavic and Savoyard. The overtly de-Teutonicized feeling, for whatever interests to which Summers might feel beholden to whle conducting Wagner, not to leave things a little more identifiable as Wagner, was clearly insipid – almost as though second-rate Weber, or at times, Dvorak. Could have Ortrud been our premature encounter with the Foreign Princess from Rusalka? There was little (more than approximately utilitarian) feeling here for idiom or sentiment at hand. It was not that tempos were often so fast, as the music that they serve came across - through so many dotted rhythm passages for example in Act One - as rhythmically flaccid. Sag in the line for the Act 1 Prelude and choral passages welcoming first appearance of swan knight - without swan – indicated much the same.

Arms frequently held high in the air fed unwelcome notion that Summers presumed having achieved something more aloft than he actually had - with quasi-academic half pseudo-intellectualizing of his own in play here. He certainly has people both in offices downtown and elsewhere here to reassure him. As for competence at conducting this type of repertoire, such may come with time, emerge eventually. Any real internally driving passion for conducting this music though is still unclear, very unclear. Choral forces being slim, the rushing through good portions of this, and secondarily, the herding of audience through first intermission all resembled what might pass for a half successful Indiana University Lohengrin. This made - streets noisy outside the Wortham right afterwards - for a tedious, nondescript, mostly unenviable way to spend a crisp autumn Friday evening in Houston.

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Wednesday, October 28, 2009

RAVE: Musically riveting I Puritani (Bologna - January 2009) - Machaidze, Florez, Mariotti

It is good, after the bel canto morto di Glyndebourne/Muller/Arden in Houston to finally make assessment, of this Bologna/Mariotti/Pier’All I Puritani, filmed last winter at the Teatro Comunale, as shown at cinemas across the U.S. and the world, including Yorktown Rave in northwest Houston. Given often at times the provincial character of the musical performing arts here, it is a great outlet to have the innovation of operas in HD from even overseas so readily available to us. Not near enough people here take advantage of such great opportunity available to them.

Some Rave managerial staff has adjustment or two to make, to guarantee their audiences chance for an interval - for instance at least ten minutes after a long act. Theater staff waited to inquire until right after Act 2 of Puritani, as to if we all needed a break, whereas there were people who had sat for it for a little over two hours thus far. We did get the break, but there was chorus to open Act Two several people still missed.


It is also rare to get such a fine performance of a Bellini opera available to us; whatever shortcomings this one may have had, it would be churlish not to somewhat make light of them. One of the very first operas the Met gave us in their HD series was also I Puritani (January, 2007). I was satisfied just to pick up Act 3 on NPR and then was content that I had missed out on attending it. The Teatro Comunle di Bologna has a very gifted new music director, just barely thirty, in Michele Mariotti. Catching just a snatch of Act Two from the Met in HD Puritani off youtube – as conducted by Patrick Summers - I was immediately turned off by the wan, pallid color, equally pallid ‘period’ assumption or approximation of ‘bel canto’ of the orchestral playing under him at the Met.

Mariotti spoke in interview, via youtube, of an element of parlando in Bellini’s writing that does indeed, on close observation of Bellini’s vocal lines, infuse his writing with considerable degree of realism. Such makes Bellini, as has been written about him before, indeed a forerunner of verismo. Leaving the theater, it was commented by a retired lady from Italian faculty here that both there is such tragic and passionate feeling in Bellini’s writing, even for an opera the plot of which results in a happy ending. I find it quite visceral myself to have such a direct encounter with this opera from the old house in Bologna - with the distinctive richness of color from the orchestral playing and overall ambience of everything, beautifully supportive of the singers. Such can give vent to strong feelings and emotions from anyone watching so sensitive, open to allowing response to something so different, as this is for people here.

Nino Machaidze was the Elvira Walton on this occasion. Her name was merely just that, a name, while attending my first from overseas HD presentations of opera I ever did – her Lauretta (Gianni Schicchi) in an immensely great and penetrating Il Trittico conducted by Riccardo Chailly and staged by Luca Ronconi at La Scala in March of 2008 - viewed here soon thereafter. In her expression, an utter determination to get most everything right for this most demanding part, one can not help but be moved by what Machaidze put into it. The emotions of a character of somewhat fragile mental and emotional state were made palpable in facial expression and sensitive shading of Bellini’s melodic lines. She also cuts a most lovely figure on stage, and except on slightly smudged rapid chromatic scale patterns, her coloratura emerged clear across the range.

As Bellini’s vocal writing exposes so much, there did however come up a few issues. Legato, for long spun vocal lines in Bellini is less pure and secure than it ideally should be – with as Neil Rishoi has pointed out before about this same performance, a mild intrusion of aspirates. No more challenging moment for either Machaidze or Mariotti occurred the entire way through I Puritani than the first part of the Mad Scene, during which Mariotti perhaps just slightly insisted on too regular a pulse for good of how to shape the line. There is by now a rarefied sense to getting such a passage, in the very individual way in which Bellini writes such, up to what demands really should be. Such issue as Machaidze had with legato was exposed here more than anywhere else - and also some coolness to the timbre, to just gently perhaps remind us of from how far East comes this attractive artist. I would welcome however eschewing having to make homage to Netrebko by lying prone on stage for any portion of the Mad Scene. This, in terms of stage direction, regardless as to who came up with it, accomplished nothing.

The smoky color of Machaidze’s lower register is very attractive; such, without pushing chest excessively, allows for just adequate flexibility to expand into the middle register without doing anything precarious. For there to be a podium with true authority doing Bellini, there needs to be along with the strong rhythmic profile that Mariotti brings to this, the yielding rubato for the long lyric lines that can help a singer bring out the right qualities for such. “Oh, vieni al tempio” in Act One, preview mad scene it is often called, made one first so very aware of these qualities - how they may have been shortchanged by mild enforcement of too regular pacing through it.

Once on to ‘Vien, diletto, - though it possibly lacked the last amount of current of hysterical ecstasy to it - Machaidze pretty much hit home stretch from this point on - with splendid support for Juan Diego Florez in duets and ensemble with him for highly successful third act from her as well. Her opening duet with Ildebrando d’Arcangelo made apparent fine psychological understanding of Elvira with the fine vocal qualities she has at her disposal too. Communication between singers on stage was acute, in an opera with drama, action so often static. Stage direction was attentive to getting all this right – momentarily heavy reliance on stock gesture aside.

Ildebrando d’Arcangelo was curiously just halfway effective as Giorgio Walton. It is a good resonant voice, with an internal rapid vibrato, that under stress, approaches becoming a beat. A little of such internally old-world quality to tone production though got curiously matched up with a modern approach to making something expressive with it here. Legato varied between good to halfway patchwork. For comfort in making strong sense of his line and of gravitas in dramatic situation at hand, he chose to sing “Se tra il bujo un fantasma’ – middle section of his long scena with Riccardo Forth declamatory, non legato. Lines therein allow for breaks for verbal emphases; taking it all non legato however is slightly vulgar. “Cinta di fiori” conveyed fine sense of narrative– a comparable piece to introducing Lucia’s mad scene in Donizetti for Raimondo – but was as always here slightly weak on legato. D’Arcangelo overall had the vocal weight if a bit exaggerated for an essentially lyric bass, the gravitas too in appearance; it was just more legato that one sought here. Ugo Guagliardo, as Lord Walton, second bass, gave his two passages of accompanied recitative the weight, warm gravitas desired and fine look of authority as well. Gianluca Floris (Bruno) was adequately incisive on his thankless opening lines but sounded thin vocally.

Gabriele Viviani, with still the youthful bloom on his voice and fine malleability too, was Riccardo Forth. It is hard to make much villainous out of “Ah, per sempre io ti perdei”, but still first, this being Bellini, in its demands is the legato, and.Viviani has it. Such grasp of legato enhanced bringing out just right the auburn grain, color in his sound; all worked to make very attractive Forth’s first act aria and cabaletta. This is an essentially lyric instrument, one we do not want to see pushed into the dramatic repertory, at least too soon, as is tempting way too often these days. Viviani was incisive, if with in facial expression stock gestures for playing a villain, in making something menacing of those lines with which Riccardo threatens Arturo in Act One. As up to task d’Arcangelo was, one’s ear still often led one to Viviani whenever the two sang together.

Incisively facing up to him was the Arturo Talbot of Juan Diego Florez. “A te, o cara,” which in supporting lines had Machaidze so engaged – promising their very fine Third Act together – carried with such pliancy, ease, shape to line, passion, as to send shivers up and down one’s spine – even more than his handsome looks - for me that alone would not do it. A recent recital disc of Florez sounded as though recorded so close it brought out more metal to this voice, suggesting perhaps that Florez might already have started forcing things too heavy. There was however so little evidence of such on this occasion, perhaps that it also takes some economization to sensibly be able to get through the Third Act for any Arturo.

Florez eschewed taking the high F in “Credeasi, misera”, settling for a strongly delivered D-flat instead. The scene with Henrietta in the First Act, rightly considered a lapse in dramatic and musical inspiration on Bellini’s part, hardly seemed so at all, with the strong single-minded determination with which Florez started it, fine support from Nadia Pirazzini as distressed Henrietta with fine character to his lines and from Mariotti accompanying, leading it all. Someone wrote in somewhere about Florez’s tone being too clear, perhaps too open, light for the demands of singing Arturo. Florez however mapped, scaled what he had before him so wisely, singing it all very expressively, that one can only reckon such remark as churlish.

Pier’Alli’s stage direction was somewhat of an abstraction, but such was his intent, not to distract from what penetrating insight he sought into what goes on psychologically with the characters in I Puritani. He also has a weak libretto with which to work – having as much as any other producer to rely so much upon Bellini’s musical inspiration alone. In persistence of abstract hand motions for chorus, he did seem mildly glib in taking passages involving them on. The somewhat geometric blocking into varied military positions he applied to his choral forces, during early scenes especially, made good sense and even enhanced atmosphere, as did even more the deep lighting across width and breadth of the stage past well lit proscenium. Only a little rushing up and down the length of the stage floor - perhaps in pursuit of Arturo – looked almost silly, as did lapse of judgment during the Mad Scene already mentioned.

Michele Mariotti did not waste any time, revealing what understanding and command he has of Bellini. The opening introduction and choruses were rapt with intensity, color, suavity for subtle harmonic changes in and beneath the line and intimations of febrile meaning along with it. His allowing color that occurs naturally in ruddy form to the orchestra of the Teatro Comunale, such as very seldom encountered on this side of the pond (or at Glyndebourne for their excursions into bel canto either) and command of fine choral forces all emerged very naturally. All was so distinctive and also indicative of wonderful gain of having someone already so sensitive on opera podiums in various locales before long. The swagger he brought to this score’s polacca (and habanera?) rhythms and to extensive scena closing Act Two, especially to the Risorgimento driven ‘Suoni la tromba’, especially there, was fiery, highly compelling.

Mariotti’s atmospheric framing starting Act Three and line to command all so flexibly but authoritatively the remainder of the way, including incisiveness during storm portion of this to set things off, was all remarkable. There were just one or two passages, most of all the first part of the Act Two Mad Scene, that betrayed some inexperience, but such with time that may get well overcome and before long from such an already determined mind and with serious intent not just about his craft, but about the art as well. This makes, in high definition, a most auspicious debut for the young Mariotti, in contrast with more venerable complacency that still visits local opera podium this week. Mariotti demonstrated by his own work there should be little room for such complacency.

With this for Bellini, not being quite everything it could have been by standards a generation or two ago, there was still something to have been reckoned about this experience. Such can only linger on for having faithfully disclosed most of all the paramount virtues of Bellini’s music, as opened out so very well here.

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Tuesday, October 27, 2009

HGO 2009-2010: Dull opener - Donizetti., but Hawks and Sparrows or Elixir of Love, ... or new more ratings suitable I racconti di Canterbury?

This could easily have been predicted to be best opener to an HGO season in three years, with the HGO debut of Ekaterina Siurina, the return of Alessandro Corbelli, a conductor known for long experience in bel canto and the casting of what press has reported is a promising tenor for the same repertoire. Hugh Canning’s convincingly positive review of this production by Annabel Arden two years ago described it as a naturally acted, realistic, modern day Pagliaaci type Elisir d’amore. Arden’s Gianni Schicchi, which I just saw for the first time yesterday on dvd, also stars Corbelli.

Ekaterina Siurina, in her HGO debut as Adina and first major character active on stage, though looking dull wearing beige dockers, immediately gave the lie t that this production was just as described. Her teasing of Nemorino had the saucy wit one expects from a good Adina, and also betrayed a girlish compassion for her weaker-minded peasant friend. Her confused reaction to Nemorino’s flighty changes of mood was palpable. Adina’s compassion eventually came to the fore, leading all to the expected very happy ending. Her ease in coloratura, secure intonation and evenness across a reasonably wide range Adina covers were all exemplary. Her command of line and of breath control during long aria toward end of Act Two was equally fine, but I found therein just slight shortcoming of not filling out the line as completely as she could have. Given the flat-line accompanying from the pit, it may have been more than we could expect from her.

Siurina’s Gilda at the Met in 2006, conducted by Frierdirch Halder (Gruberova’s husband) provided high expectations – many still met. This marked a very significant HGO debut. One had to regret how so much from Siurina got shortchanged.

John Osborn joined her in what ultimately turned out - replacing Eric Cutler two weeks back - to be a lesser HGO debut, though still with merit. He has a good youthful appearance and sound for Nemorino, and though acting the part a bit stiffly, still well brought out the naivete but only partly the simplicity of the peasant. Though matters improved as the afternoon wore on, the way he approached singing his opening aria proved a liability. Osborn will bear down when in the passaggio (break); when doing so, his vowels, at least in Italian go left and right, up and down, vice versa from where they should remain. It all resembles hunt in the dark for on which vowel good placement may occur - while forcing his instrument, also tastelessly up to long held unwritten high D at one point he came close to losing - one or two other high notes the same way.

Pitch occasionally suffered too. While singing duets with Siurina and Corbelli especially, though, he lightened both his sound and phrasing matching well with his partners on stage to optimum effect. There then is available for him more a mezza voce approach to the break – toward making his acuti more mellifluous especially on repertoire in which he specializes. These two duets early on perhaps belied more than anywhere else that staging of this Elisir might continue unaffected, responsibly so for a good while. Until several technical issues get resolved, Osborn is best advised to steer clear of parts requiring much ring, spinto, as for instance Arturo Talbot and Arnold (William Tell).

Liam Bonner, former HGO studio artist, well known here for doing supporting baritone roles, looked dapper in military uniform as Belcore. He sang with alternatively good diction and tone, and bluster. What might have been the allure about Belcore to Adina in the first place wound up seemed a mystery. Belcore hardly winds up winning the girl anyway. Catherine Martin sang much of Gianetta under pitch.


That leaves mostly Alessandro Corbelli. Though sounding slightly thin at the edges by now, he revealed again his mastery at parlando, spinning out Donizetti’s lines with fine if this time inhibited swagger. There was of course more than hint of his plentifully clear mastery of text, nuance thereof, but the good news ends just about there.

I have yet to run across a staging conceit more asinine than addition of a mime part (Dulcamara’s assistant), as acted by former U of Houston theater major Adam Von Wagoner. If one came downtown expecting Corbelli’s command of the stage, one seldom got it. He stiffly, only halfway engagingly moved across it - as to anything that might wittily enhance his portrayal of the quack in a real way. It became perplexing as to how so much could be lost; now it remains that Dale Travis, a regular here, will have made at least as strong an impression as Dulcamara as Corbelli just has here. A Dulcamara as dour, poker-faced, merely fuddy-duddy as Corbeli proved this time just will not do - on the street, could not hope to make ends meet.

Corbelli has proven many times before the very gifted basso buffo he is, how then he could believe being in on a good thing to combine efforts with Annabel Arden, who produced this, should confound us all. Should he ever want ample comparison we have read of him with Baccaloni, Corena, Capecchi, Dara, to persist at all, it is time, even since Gianni Schicchi, he abandon ship. Unfortunately he has not done so yet.

What denatured things so, that most conspicuously affected was the lone Italian member of the cast? One must blame a combination of two factors, all enhanced by drab set design good to suit Hawks and Sparrows (1966 Pasolini flick). Elisir is now indeed a work one can no longer consider entirely fail-proof, oddly enough. Most obvious was the stage direction of Annabel Arden, as for Glyndebourne. Members of the chorus entered before the orchestral intro was over, to affect a performance beginning so spontaneously as such, but with tree-hedgers coming on stage immediately assuming a freeze on stage, until the brief prelude was over. Siurina’s smile was certainly could have won everyone over, but her removal of top to reveal tank top underneath was simply crude, even more so than her filling a large pail full of water to help herself to a foot bath.

Things mostly coasted along until Dulcamara’s entrance - completely undercut by androgynous monkey-shaped tattooed youth climbing electrical pole by ladder to short out the factory light used to illuminate most of the stage and provide excuse for spotlight. Such crudely applied cliché also got used in the Glyndebourne Schicchi (for trio of women putting ‘Donati’ to bed). For once that Dulcamara made it to the rapid parlando section of his big opening number, as though much ado about nothing. The very opening of the aria should at once feel grandiose, text and music make clear while here the whole cause became lost, fell flat. Nothing was clever enough here to be construed as deconstructionist. Instead, it was just simply crude, as was the damnable failure of this boy to sit still for any longer than twenty seconds for about all the rest of Act One.

Arden’s supposedly dark view of Schicchi is half-conceived to extent that all, including layered on stock humor also therein just falls flat. Arden has some craft for moving chorus members across the stage, even in dance step, but feels it pressing to put such a personal stamp on every turn of phrase or whatever at her disposal, that it then is all just hers and nothing else. It is all so busy that it does not show so much technique other than to look very stiff. Stamping about on stage, that Miss Siurina did once early in Act Two to underline fit of agitation, is so clichéd, it is already only too familiar to HGO audiences from other productions of comedy - no less irritating than before.

’Fascist blackshirt’ police restraining Nemorino looked so fey, it could have instead been Village People (every pun intended); one had to fear a little extra for the poor bloke. We can not be sure Adina’s ass remains virgin, with so much flailing about going on. Dulcamara’s boy(-toy) comes on in goose looking costume drag for what should have sufficed – bumping ass, but nudge, nudge, wink, wink, as though we might fail to get the joke already. You know how unfunny when someone makes a joke he has to explain it, but then come to think of it how unintentionally funny things become if the joke starts getting xplained several times. Other than clichéd – effusive embraces at the end– there was minimal evidence of more than generic investment in any love interest here.

Up until Dulcamara’s entrance, Edoardo Muller seemed to own the light touch, even hint of suavity we expect for accompanying Donizetti, but tas matters became more complex than the simple ideas, tunes to start Act One, a kind of wooden beating time took over. Osborn got left in quite a vacuum for ‘Adina, credimi,’ as did Ramon Vargas under a less experienced Summers nine years ago. There was both times little yielding from the podium for ample rubato, shading of the line, to give it true shape. It was, as though to find the true bel canto style or that of doing Donizetti, one must look to Glyndebourne, Little comes to mind more pandering than how Muller just about exactly held forth so.

Muller apparently could not either put in word to contradict any of the stage direction - constant noise and clutter distracting from the music, not helping characterize it. Not any of such could bring out the true comedy of the piece, even toward introducing any real frisson into the mix. The latter could happen as some real emphasis on a social theme of interest, but the touch for applying such was simply not there.

While Osborn adequately shaped ‘Una furtive lagirma’, Muller would only stop a moderate metronomic pace for the crests of the line – not to level of self-parody, but enough to leave Osborn once again in a vacuum, noting also sour intonation from obbligato bassoon and other winds. I have heard as much Donizettian with Danses suisses from Baiser du Fee conducted well as I did Sunday in detachment to pass for swagger during festivities that opened Act Two. Skill, conducting Donizetti, may be adequate, but sense of charm for conducting Elisir was not.

What makes the British beholden to praise such a pretentious Elsiir and the Schicchi gain confounds one. If there be any chance to rescue Glyndebourne tradition from impression of being somewhat fraudulent, this Elisir d’amore failed to provide any help. Neither did the Schicchi, in which British members of the cast, even including Felicity Palmer, who knows better, do some of the worst mugging and blithering in what can only pass as acting for second tier varsity opera studio. By comparison, the Met Schicchi (O’Brien) looks now very close to definitive, while certainly just competent,

Call it untoward bias on my part if you like; it probably will not matter who gets cast in something like this again, as to paraphrase James Camner here (concerning Met in HD Aida last Saturday). I am likely most happy to put this type of production, perhaps anything from Glyndebourne on DNR status for what to attend from now on. Such at least should happen for repertoire with halfway such openly warm character as this. So much character got denied here in as an obtrusive handling of Elisir as conceptually possible - with little to compensate in return.

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Tuesday, October 13, 2009

Metzmacher/DSO Berlin, Von Otter - a thoroughly enlightened Mahler Third

When Ingo Metzmacher conducted the Mahler Second Symphony earlier this year – paired without interruption with the short purely choral Lux Aeterna of Ligeti preceding it, he sought and mostly attained a modernist take on Mahler’s innovations of its structure, related issues, especially for its finale, with its elements of sonata form and moreover prefigurations of ‘perpetual variation.'

The finale to the Second has been said to be a series of introductions (though again including sonata form elements) with statement of ‘Auferstehung’, when it finally arrives in E-Flat Major being arrival of the first theme of the true Exposition. The outworking of it then in effect becomes the Veni, Creator Spiritus (Part 1) of the Eighth Symphony – also in E-Flat Major. He mostly convincingly took the finale of Symphony No. 2 just a step further, however, than how described above (as most acutely heard on Klemperer's classic EMI recording, recorded performances) in how he may perceive that this music suggests Mahler possibly having seen farther than, beyond the modernism to rigorously develop soon thereafter. In opening out such romantic perspective, one can surmise Mahler having envisioned futuristic elements through prism of the romantic past as well.

Metzmacher just partly indicated inculcating romantic elements into his interpretation as might be rethought later on, to include the Ligeti up to several seconds or so right before starting the first movement of the Second Symphony. Ligeti aside, part of doing so would too be in keeping with the Wunderhorn roots of so much of its melodic material in and inspiration behind both it and together the Third and Fourth to follow.

We then come to the Symphony No. 3, nearly a year after what proved very close to definitive for the Second and that I found even more satisfactory than the recording Gielen made in southwest Germany (SWR) several years ago. Probably the most controversial part of Metzmacher’s interpretation of Symphony No. 3 was the first movement, in his emphasis on purely musical aspects of its even dramatic narrative and form - or mix of form and sprawl. Certainly one suffers slightly from fatigue, coming across the same heavily anticipated downbeats, hollow bombast that gets applied very often to much of the first movement of the Third. Metzmacher, in finding so much poetry in spaces, transitions between the big moments of this movement, is certainly more attuned to the progressive, forward looking aspects of this music than are others.

However not nearly all of how Metzmacher arrives at interpretative decisions comes from with whom he studied, neither should it be expected, even for things to coincide. The more single-minded I find in this instance, having listened to each on the first movement back to back is still Michael Gielen. Gielen has recorded one of the slowest accounts of the first movement; his doing so has helped deny ahead of time any closeness of himself and Metzmacher. Metzmacher opted instead for a moderately broad pace, impetus being to avoid romanticizing this music excessively and playing it all to goal of so much expected clichés and bombast – tendencies Gielen avoids as well.

Part One opened, understated, in forthright manner - space opened up for respondent brass chorales – and good current running through icy string section tremolo getting added into the mix as well. Quick dovetailing through wide runs at end of first episode of depicting the inchoate aspects of winter, sounded only a little glib, as did not oddly enough resumption of the opening section. ‘Schwer’ (Heavy) marked got understated – but in context of otherwise very accurate rhythm and intonation – after very febrile first intimations of spring – beautifully anticipated from low brass and timpani.

Metzmacher waited until entry of the march for spring to find clear definition in thus its full arrival in full, even with previous to it a Mendelssohnian lightness for triplets from lower strings; once into the march, he understated what is usually deemed necessary some really firm accentuation. With return of the cold blast of brass and acutely varied tremoli from the strings, focus was put back in full; and one’s attention got riveted by that and then with timpani rolls cutting in on lines of arioso from trombone - eloquently voiced here. Such carried over effortlessly into beautiful duet between Wei Lu (concertmaster) and principal horn, following a gently, specifically marked, s evocative alternating inhalation and exhalation of the breath of spring.

Metzmacher through very well animated ‘Rabble’ and then perhaps lighter manner with Storm than usual, continued to show seeing somehow past the most climactic, even bombastic pages in the first movement to bigger picture that lay ahead. Some might continue to find, with the Lisztian demonic quality one gets for instance from 1980’s Solti/Chicago, the whole thing somewhat understated in regards to such possible element in Mahler’s scoring of both what is tone poem and thirty-three minute long first movement in sonata form. The sobriety of how trombone arioso approaching the coda (as much late arriving B group of the recapitulation) to this that then started with lively bounce, lift, even lightness to it, sufficiently contrasted with the storm episode that had preceded it. One might have asked for more defined sweeping allargandi right before end of the first movement and a little more punch to closing accents. Without having experienced anything maybe quite definitive with the first movement, much was still very clearly enjoyable - and free of unwanted cliché. First movement here served its purpose very well as façade for what followed it.

As many times the second movement has gone well, this one came very close to perfection, starting Part Two, even with a little more dark color from oboe and strings early on - with its anticipated fine halting step through it – than usual. First brief trio section was all crisp, airy, and incisive, with Metzmacher relaxing things down into sober reprise of consequent of opening phrases in violas through increasingly drowsy replies from Wei Lu, high solo clarinet, and descending flute triplets. Light spiccati marked trio section reprise through incredible, never self-conscious display of light virtuosity from varied sections of DSO Berlin. Purposefully weary-toned flutes through later reprise of A section of the ‘minuet’ on soft down of meadow under gentle breeze, continued rapt utter charm, naivete, giving away no hint of sophistication in achieving such. Luminous, ardent closing phrases helped conclude very poetic playing of this intermezzo.

The third movement was hardly less good than the second, with woodland naivete not diminished – from over grassy meadows of right before. Woodwinds, with complete naïve and rustic charm, phrased Ablosung in Sommer (tune to opening of the third movement) exactly as it would be sung, leading one to suspect Metzmacher going over song text with his principals during rehearsal, to make sure how well they must know it to play such passages so well. Metzmacher put all through never a heavily sluggish gait, while maintaining a steady, almost measured, but never rushed pace through it all.

Contrasting dark muted accents got drawn out of trumpets and violins with unforced ease. Played a little more forte than fortissimo, the trio parody of Beethoven 5 got played here as just that – parody, lightly jaunty, with trills in solo flute, then violins effortlessly spinning off. Metzmacher marked eschewal of vibrato in the violins and then indicated kletzmar bump to double bass figuration to enhance further the rusticity of his accents in reprise of the scherzo - past what is too commonly an overstated downward brass run end to often excessively disjunct stretto. He then calibrated dry colors with reverb through series of brief episodes to very magical effect, making ready post horn anticipating shadows of twilight.
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Back placement of the dark, highly expressive, but never sentimentalized post horn solo was evocatively calibrated with all else, including with episodes interrupting this section with for instance more kletzmar accents from bassoon unapologetic, unfettered. The fugato that Mahler makes recapitulate trio portion of the scherzo, only almost rushed toward the end, had very near ideal combination of excellent lightness and strong accenting. Wei Lu was heard, sticking out only slightly to lead violins down long tremolo accented chromatic lines down into post horn solo reprise. Even though the coda to follow emerged slightly rushed, all space was allowed brief ‘call from horn in E-flat Minor to herald both an exuberant close to this – and all mystery to follow.

All that might have distracted from excellent focus for the two vocal movements here were a scratchy first awkward portamento or two from principal oboe in the former and tinny, metallic bells in the latter. Anne Sofie Von Otter found, with still youthful, even ‘Wunderhorn’ tone the right balance between that and the mystery of the text, the latter which she somewhat missed with the Vienna Philharmonic and Boulez on DGG. Here, with deep longing, without beginning to go ‘tragedy queen’ on us, she ideally expressed Nietzche’s lines for what they evoke of night, of Man’s groping for reason therein, - and then calmly, with both supple resolution and compassion, the penitential lines of the fifth movement. One has perhaps to go back to Maureen Forrester to hear this music sung equally well. Metzmacher accompanied, through beautiful solos and eventually improved portamenti from his principal oboe, evocatively. He also freely understated so frequently found raucous element to mix of childrens’ and women’s choruses in what follows, without denying any of their character.

All one could call Metzmacher on during the Adagio was perhaps slightly stiff accenting of the one or two dramatic climaxes occurring late within – perhaps for lack of having been able to find firm accenting for similar places in the first movement. He more than made up for it for what competes very clearly for one of the most simply hymnal, transfigured accounts of this music available to us yet. All hint of smarminess, pop song or Liberace lyrics to, colloquially speaking, consequent of this hymn, was not within reach here. The emphasis was on a transfigured kind of light, without going either the other direction too far (i.e., Adagio of 1982 Karajan Mahler Ninth) and making Parsifal out of this. He then in effect indicated here that he hears an opening out within these long-breathed lines into the great extension of tonality that was going to follow, but also the very human element as well, as to the deep longing this music beautifully expresses. Harrowingly poignant principal flute solo right before the final opening in solo trumpet for buildup to final statements of the hymn was steeply arched. For all that had preceded it, it proceeded forth very naturally.

All merged finally into single unbroken line to luminous, slowly intoned chords in brass over measured timpani. A higher level of music-making evident so many times during the last five movements of this Mahler Third - certainly as anticipated too during its first part (first movement) - seems hardly possible. One could also think back to such acute seeing to the other side in t Adagio of the Mahler Tenth, both tonally and transfiguratively with which Metzmacher infused it and closed last season, to effect, it would seem that the Deryck Cooke ‘completion’ of the Tenth should at last seem superfluous.

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Saturday, October 10, 2009

Reflections on the Berg Violin Concerto - then as played by Tetzlaff and Metzmacher/DSO Berlin (Bonn/Edinburgh review - Part 2)

In writing about the Berg Violin Concerto - not so much interpreted by Christian Tetzlaff and Ingo Metzmacher as revealed by them - it requires more effort than I can muster to write anything definitive here - between three different performances of it. Some other performances of this, such as conducted by Webern (with Krasner), Sinopoli, have most certainly too included some elements of what I try to address here. I have yet to hear anybody conduct the music of Alban Berg who finds the middle road between the romantic elements of Berg’s scoring and those elements of his music that are progressive so well as Metzmacher does. I first noticed this, upon listening to his Hamburg State Opera recording of Wozzeck (EMI). No piece of Berg conveys more sublimely such internal dichotomy than does the Violin Concerto.

Qualities about numerous good performances of this piece, including some deserving of accolades, I would never suspect before well as so nearly being contrivances. A human element prominent in this work gets neither eschewed in how Berg conceived and wrote the concerto or as to how Metzmacher has interpreted it in several instances addressed here. With especially the laendler and Carinthian folk tune, and also the chorale, there is an element of nostalgia in this work that most certainly draws both listeners and interpreters in alike. There is nothing desirable (or durable) about contrived sentimentalized nostalgia here. Nostalgia is instead here device for its effect on memory to use cinematic language, in deep focus or shallow, alternating between the two to assist in haunting the psyche with it. Should an interpreter take what is written at simply face value, to perhaps even how Berg writes free of serial considerations, as opportunity upon which to be capitalized at length? I have yet to hear this music sound more independent of such preconception, but also without then being turned into something purely cerebral, abstract.

Speaking of the element of nostalgia in this music, to take things just one step further, it should be quite brutally obvious that a solution lies again a pretty good distance from sentimentalizing this music, pardoning very momentary lapse or two that some analyses have been able to find, as Anthony Pople in his commentary on the concerto has pointed out. Nostalgia even must be merely a function of memory here instead, and means to some extent of how we come up with certain constructs in our thinking, formulation of such. Such process is true in Berg having composed this piece, with also those few so quietly, confidently authoritative in interpreting, recreating it as Tetzlaff and Metzmacher, but also how in other contexts we come up with social and other artistic constructs.

The Berg compellingly deterritorializes references to laendler, folk melody and to Bach chorale - material outside of what can be directly derived from serial origins. The inevitably occurring breaking apart of such material through serial procedures has been much commented upon much already. Also a part of this, in pursuing the dialectics of construction of the Berg to a higher plane – with a surplus of overtones thus what tonal implications arise out of the triadic row – is the space, allocation of space provided for how all this interacts. After paradoxically there is the building or foundation of motivic rigor, there is also that space between such delineation that helps one sense a chaos - ever as self-perpetuation of variation on material - as such the ground also thereof that provides grounding to itself through such intricacy.

In Paul Klee terms, to paraphrase him, we are here in the process of not so much rendering the audible but rendering audible. With such having taken place, the territorial or indigenous identity of material used, so transformed is lost, or better yet has become undefined to extent that one instead becomes focussed on what could be before reckoned inaudible. This is true to extent that all reckoning of former identity of deterritorialized material is lost – incidentally a type of alienation experienced lately at Rice Media Center for viewing of the World (film) by Jia Zhang Ke, dealing with infusion of migrant peoples into the capital city of China to work at so-named theme park there. The world described is one for all residents and newcomers alike that has turned postsocialist, but unclear as to where there exist parameters within which people can successfully live and thrive.

Such might be said to be the case – on just a conceptualizing level - with the Berg Violin Concerto and its thematic material; moreover the picture being drawn or painted here in a musical world that is not only post-serial. It is already also in a new sense, post-diatonic, arrived at by further extension, building of the triadic thinking of dialectics and processes thereof, over in effect melodic and harmonic triads. A shift in what Klee might refer to as a ‘cosmogenic line’ may or could have occurred in deep recesses underneath. As such, it is placed there just as likely subconsciously as it is not.

One should also not want to draw any serious correlation, hopefully no correlation at all as others misguidedly have done between serialism and Marxism. The triads that form the first eight to nine pitches of the row for the Berg Violin Concerto and especially diatonic and whole-tone scale derivations that can be constructed thereof all derive from the past, from so much that is even traditional from therein. It is imbued however with entirely new meaning now, and is intended even intuitively, psychologically to be perceived as part of not only an entirely new scheme in but some form of new future for music, as of yet not yet clearly defined. On the other hand, the genius of Alban Berg, that not in only composing his late works that all in a way cluster around his second opera Lulu, is such that the human voice in this concerto and in so much else of Berg’s oeuvre speaks very clearly and is not diminished.

Furthermore without - I admit at being a little distance from having it – strong mastery of the serial procedures and derivations so integral and almost full ingredient of the mechanics of writing the Berg Violin Concerto, such issues raised above quickly turn completely banal. Mastery then of doing anything else is incomplete - far less complete than how Metzmacher has grasped it. Of course, room and latitude Berg has provided himself for inclusion of even very low-brow musical elements – the onstage bands in Lulu, the barrel-organ tune to which he sets variations in Act Three of Lulu, and other melodic material to which fits even tawdry lyrics in Wozzeck. He thus, secondarily, expresses a sympathy both and so searing for the disenfranchised and class to which belong so many people.

On the other hand, it has only been just lately become what I can completely reckon clear here what it means to have the final chord to the piece the way it shows up. I have often commented upon this moment as anticipatory of Messiaen, even in how it is achieved in what builds up to it. One can now fully realize that it is integral to the entire construct of the concerto from the very beginning, as bringing to fruition just beyond point of the serial dissolution of the chorale through variation a sense of incorporeality that is built into so much motif-delineating space throughout the concerto. It is thus that not only in a Boulezian sense here that there a process of destruction in an overloading of material, delineated objects in Berg and variation on it thereof. The Violin Concerto, to begin to turn how Boulez has been critical of the work on its head, also begins the process of the dissolution of serial procedures as well. It is by no accident, whim or happenstance that it is there the way it is, but quite yet another thing, the final chord of the Berg, to be able to so reckon that it is not.

Even in the opening measures of the concerto, with its open sonorities, especially as heard from Edinburgh, there was this feeling, including from such warm, resonant clarinets of DSO a sense of empty space evoked by so much space between building of chords and sequences of perfect fifths. The approach Tetzlaff and Metzmacher took in Edinburgh sounded mildly heavier or withdrawn than in Bonn (or earlier in Berlin), for especially the first movement. Some of what was at stake was acoustical as much as anything else. Starkly delineated in Bonn not quite a minute in was the way in which a solo – rocking motion in sevenths – in horn refracts or mirrored the bass line in contra-bassoon. Arpeggi ascending and descending, for instance between cello and bassoons, firmly here, were gently underlined as both overlapping and mirroring each other – with proper adjustments made for the varied acoustics of both halls.

Through development section of the Andante, horn line under animated broken obbligato from the soloist achieved much expressive simplicity, following fine preparation of such from bass clarinet, and both passionate and well scaled terracing from Tetzlaff in thoroughly working all this out and into freely achieved febrile crest over line from the principal trumpet. Metzmacher made supple retransition through the molto piu tranquillo before brief closing section leading into the Allegretto, with expressive horn motifs over still, harmonizing tremolo from Tetzlaff – a haunting moment effortlessly achieved as well.

Tetzlaff was found fluidly supple with the Allegretto, free to find gently flighty, capricious accents in bringing out the character of Manon Gropuis in the process. Marking of laendler motif in bass tuba, so skillfully underlined made its outré effect, and as hardly out of context with all else going on. Immediately contrasting with that was the gentle duet for clarinets lightly marked with very brief harp arpeggios. A very ephemeral sense of what is most charming, gemutlich was made all very sublime, and without sentimentalizing anything.

Tetzlaff’s starkly accented development of laendler theme in bracing double stops made its impact. All would then however turn so liquid in moments of reflection, such as in dazed reverie for flute duet, coming off agitated, stringent soloist double stops. Gently achieved stretto with sequence of appoggiaturas and an uninhibited spin off of arpeggio (marked Liberamente’) quickly followed. Resumption of laendler motif with renewed vitality within – as easy to find in reserve all along - in low tuba underpinning offbeat sextuplet spinning off of arpeggi emerged as free and organically achieved at once. The ‘pastorale’ with Carinthian tune horn breaking in and Tetzlaff in reflective toned obbligato toward end of the Allegretto quickly became all liquid, yet with crisp marking of dissonances in the winds, bringing opening movement to a both dreamy and apprehensive close each time.

Tetzlaff made noble, arched line, rigorously anchored by cellos and brass, out of the opening of the cathartic Allegro, a little more stringent in Bonn. Flutes and Tetzlaff, the former in augmented form and latter in more direct paraphrase, then keenly reminisced on the preceding laendler. Moments later so special, very soon before outset of more open accompanied cadenza was the way in which soloist and Metzmacher worked laendler reminiscence into anticipating the last four notes of the row as further down the line the chorale to follow, as though natural, inevitable consequent to the laendler. Such presented a musical sequence of sorts so internally dichotomous, at least on the surface of things, to strike in such a subtle way at the very core of the work and the dialectics that form much of the impetus behind all of this. Tetzlaff, for his cadenza, with great technical mastery of its triple-stops, got at the very core of the material, with its assimilation of reflection on preceding laendler, as something in deep focus with intimation of the crest of the stretti that open the Allegro. He so subtly worked things to practically dissolving all into continuation of a single line, accompanied by short pizzicati reminiscence of opening perfect fifth arpeggi that open the concerto.

Tetzlaff and Metzmacher understated making climactic the Hohepunkt at crest of developing variations through the Adagio – different than to which one may be accustomed, but all consistent as so how probing and searching an approach to the Adagio they adopted. The question now has been raised whether or not this place exists as somewhat form-defining point of symmetry, ‘dramatic gesture’, as Boulez would portray there, but that possibly being a misconception. Traditional sense of form may not be at all, to partly contradict Boulez, paramount or present, but dialectically merely intricate connection for intertwining lines, spinning out of the triad and whole step infused series.

Tetzlaff made long allargando of playing the chorale for the first time before the winds’ entrance with it. He then limpidly traced ascending arpeggios off the chorale and intertwining arpeggio lacing serial harmonization of an in effect dissolving chorale, cross cut too by laendler motifs – with firm but well vocalized duo between trombone and bass trombone. Tetzlaff’s transition from being soloist into leading the violins of the DSO was as seamless as possible with Wei Lu’s solos underpinning, anticipating Tetzlaff’s final ascent into the blue also played so seamlessly. It was so anticipated and spaced as all of it so in allocation of diastolic space, as to enter in and inhabit a different world altogether.

The quite literal, more arched quasi-period approach that Metzmacher took to the ‘Eroica’ complemented just somewhat the slightly more arched, incisive of these two performances of the Berg in Bonn, whereas the symphonic weight with which Metzmacher infused the Brahms Fourth in Edinburgh was complemented by there being a few more phlegmatic accents in the Berg on that occasion. Both works it at least superficially seemed sounded slightly more supple at home during the spring, if only slightly less definitive or defining in interpretation than what happened the first week of September on tour.

Christian Tetzlaff and Ingo Metzmacher both took the Berg to a level, at best barely approachable by so many, that this music both deserves and inhabits. It is not that that at least one of these performances should be recorded commercially, but must, including I would hope extra tracks for the more classical and so structurally achieved Passacaglia by Webern and finely wrought two Bach unaccompanied Sarabandes from the A Minor and C Major sonatas as encores.

Alban Berg introduced with especially his late works and this concerto a new dimensionality to composing along lines of serialism, all that helped open the door to at least what trends in composition immediately followed 1945. Such include especially those works in neo-expressionism that we find the more humane among them, but not necessarily exclusively so. It is easy enough to simplify even too much what is at hand with this music, yet with what romantic leanings this series of performances may have conveyed, it did not happen at all without what one could strongly conjecture by hearing this was a very thorough mastery of how serial procedures work. It so well took into account as well even such an intimate level on which this concerto was written.

Again, romantic tendencies and modernistic ones played off each other with equal force and so intertwined as to constantly be hard to tell apart or as to develop too much specific identity of their own. No amount of words in describing this gratefully repeat-encountered Berg Concerto can compensate for what this was like – performance to series of such performances of a concerto – to be speaking broadly here – the most significant I have heard this past decade.

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Friday, October 9, 2009

DSO Berlin, Metzmacher on tour - Edinburgh, Bonn - Part 1

Designed, figuratively speaking as a three-composer tribute to the music of Johann Sebastian Bach, Ingo Metzmacher took to Edinburgh toward close of their annual festival an already proven, fine program he conducted last spring in Berlin and on visit to Hong Kong last spring. Zubin Mehta, with the VPO, little over a week later – transmitted live and thus without delay of several weeks - framed penultimate night at the Proms in a quasi neo-baroque program of his own. The same Webern and Brahms framed Strauss's Don Quixote instead of the Berg concerto on it. This was programming to be entirely assessed on its own, and in numerous ways on its own still rich merits; these two works would not carry the universal appeal if the only acceptable interpretations of them nowadays were as I describe below.
The Schoenberg orchestrations of several organ chorale preludes and the St Anne Prelude and Fugue by Bach are by now well known along with Webern’s more brilliantly transcribed ricercar from A Musical Offering.

With a musician as involved, immersed in the music of the New Vienna School as is Ingo Metzmacher, one might feel to be on verge of reading about chilly, detached, academic interpretative work for all three pieces – for sake of achieving absolute precision of execution. Such certainly did not turn out either to be the case.

In the spacious, shallow acoustic of the Philharmonie, Metzmacher last spring adopted quite a headlong pace to Anton Webern's Opus 1. It stressed quite tautologically such a linear approach to this; suggested was most of what is to be gleaned from it is just what is key in it to quickly emerging expressionistic phase of Webern’s oeuvre. It is such that eventually takes us as far as through the more pristine cantatas, variations, symphony (Opus 21) of his late period. One missed just a bit such risk-taking at Edinburgh of putting such music on what just on a course seemingly a little more detached from its tonal moorings than is yet the case even with Webern. More detailed attention however happened at Edinburgh as to Webern’s craft of applying ‘perpetual variation’ he had learned from Schoenberg – all at a slightly more relaxed pace there than had been the case last spring.

Those passages however that Webern in tight rhythmic planning of everything has made sound fractious - as almost on verge of collapse - Metzmacher keenly observed and again at slightly broader pace at Edinburgh. The rigorous moments of stretto that internally provoke such agitation, increased tension came fully across with fiercely incisive, precise and weighted accenting.

Incidence of color got just lightly acknowledged here, as primacy got placed here on line and the motivic development within it instead. If, as a consequence then, color would form, it did so independent of approaching this music from perspective of applying any kind of external emphasis or stimulus, romantic, impressionistic, or otherwise. The combination of lightly providing reverb for opening pizzicato statement of opening theme with observing dry space in-between such pitches was very closely observed. Toward the end of the opening minor key section of the passcaglia, Metzmacher placed offbeat replies to line in muted trumpet as motivically connected or related to it, while very deftly keeping it texturally placed apart. Concertmaster obbligato during the brief four-variation D Major section, followed by equally succinctly achieved duo of muted trumpet and clarinet helped provide some expected warmth, but again without looking to any artificial solution to enhance any effect with this. Such level of subtlety could not be expected from Mehta and Vienna. As representative of this piece as their playing was, nobody attended that concert to hear real Webern – composer who already saw well ahead of all the current trends of his time – that one got in both acutely and warm, dramatically contrasting enough perspective too from Metzmacher and DSO Berlin.

In what turned out to be the best of three performances of the Passcaglia thus far I have heard from Metzmacher – the first having been with the San Francisco Symphony, he had maintained the same vision in mind with it as he had previously. Here he found it most eloquent to stress the progressivism of this music by more subtle means or emphasis. I have yet to have heard more definitive on this piece.

The Brahms Fourth Symphony closed this program, again as earlier in Berlin and Hong Kong. The weary tone from the violins with which they opened the first movement, casting its autumnal glow through feeling with line more than with external appliqué recalled well similar opening the classic Klemperer EMI recording. Austere accenting and close observation of the classical proportions of this work throughout was remindful of the same legacy. Metzmacher limned such proportions rhetorically with the utmost simplicity giving the tragic stature of this music its full weight. Within seemingly broader confines of a shallow sounding Philharmonie last spring, Metzmacher elicited a little more supple flow to the line, so fluid in applying separations within the line toward maintaining what would communicate as a free and easily achieved legato through so many lines given the strings.

Contrast here between incisive stretto accenting with more reflective musing or back-placed slow arpeggios from violins was made acute, within still supple context. The allargando arched line for violins in octaves during bridge to flowing second theme was curiously taken all broadly legato at Edinburgh - with offbeat staccato chords underneath strict and incisive. Autumnal hues also informed the wistful duet for clarinets in G-sharp minor and gentle retransition into the recapitulation, much as happened under Mehta, but here within context of a stronger profile, toward eventually bringing the first movement to a trenchant close.

Past well gauged severe handling of unisons and resonantly voiced chorale in winds on first theme for opening the Andante, orchestral landscape opened out - within context of beautifully maintained proportions - with fine ease. Transitions involving strongly accented triplets were firmly incisive, stringent enough without taking such passages so detached as to break the overall line here, even at Edinburgh. Metzmacher limned first statement of the flowing second theme with violin section obbligato over arched cello line, of supple and subtle separations between groups of two and four notes, toward again achieving for all a most true and freely achieved legato. The recapitulation opened with fine simplicity, breadth, and sense of awe, such as suffused the gently wistfully clarinet led interlude before final coda reprise of main theme. Such was all beautifully supported by fully voiced horns and refulgent sweep in broadly enunciated accompanying strings.

For a festive sonata-allegro scherzo (third movement), Metzmacher pushed at Edinburgh perhaps just slightly harder than necessary. While yielding for a lightly achieved second theme, with piquant marking of repeat note upbeats and accenting in light percussion, the inexorable drive to this was not to be denied. Following a flexibly molded brief retransition, the triplet consequent (to main idea) started the recapitulation trenchant and firm. The caccia bucolic handling of strong horn triplet varying of Theme 2 segue into the Coda helped it past mildly shaky ensemble from strings, to start it, to a resounding close.

After what had been heard with the Webern on this program, the passacaglia finale to the Brahms posed no challenge to Metzmacher, but with nothing here taken for granted, all the same. The opening theme was ideally firm, solemn, fully voiced, continuing so through first variation all the way down to tremolo beats on low E’s in the timpani. Winds entered austere and somber with obbligato over bass line, then yielding to contrasting variations of antiphony, stretto, and as to in a sense of building such architecture as this passacaglia, a living interaction thus between so much that well beneath its surface had been so rigorously achieved. Light triplets in higher winds, spinning off the line of passacaglia in light antiphony between strings and lower winds very gently framed a very cogently shaped flute solo, avoiding all sense of the lugubrious in its more simply achieved tragic accents here. Reply in maggiore of clarinet and oboe to the flute solo led into sonorously achieved warm chorale in the horns, with rapt moment in anticipation of fierce recapitulatory reprise of passacaglia theme in full brass. Even as things proceeded in seemingly a firmly, rigorously straight line through peroration, Metzmacher opened space for the two brief lyrical interludes that remained, while also achieving incisive scherzo accenting of triplets in the winds, where they come in – all to a trenchantly achieved tragic conclusion.

Differences in interpretation were not so great, but if one was looking for the Brahms Fourth of a little greater tragic weight of the two, then this recent Edinburgh one was it. A more teleological approach, pointing up even applying romantic tendencies into overall phrasing as helping elucidate too some of the more progressive tendencies of this music seemed to have been a little more the case in Berlin. It was however probably the closing passacaglia in Edinburgh that benefited there the most from what minor differences did occur.

Moving on to Bonn, featured on the program there two nights after Edinburgh was the Beethoven ‘Eroica.’ Things got off to a very bracing start, for a first movement that was without being excessively fast, constantly headlong. Formal shape and proportions were clear, accenting to such very clear, yet one expected a little more yielding to passages such as the secondary strand to the first theme group, laendler accents to first part of the second theme, and inversion of the previous as it reappears during the Development and recapitulation. Even a little broader space for C Major opening to retransition toward end of the Development would have been good. No doubt, the forward thrust to all this was spirited enough and music-making here was not so rigid to be completely devoid of warmth, but for avoiding threat of being perceived as two-dimensional or too academic with this, Metzmacher could have only relied upon taking a little more of a subjective stance here. He yielded for a couple of phrases during the Coda to the first movement somewhat for last reprise of the inversion theme introduced halfway through the first movement. Also memorable however was the firm trajectory he sought and achieved through a bracing body or central section of the Development through its famously dissonant climax. With a little more variety of pacing in this, it still would have stood out more – still without turning such episodic as on Bernstein or early Abbado recordings.

Nothing conspicuously wrong, but the opening of the Marcia funebre became clear indication of what a few real shortcomings here were. I am content that memory serves me right as to the beautiful, even somewhat romantic, not only rhythmic shaping he gave so very specifically the opening of this movement – as heard live from Berlin last fall. It can be suspected that Ingo hearkened to the sirens’ song of ‘period’ or ‘historically informed’ a little all too well for clue as to how to supposedly make some interpretative corrections here lately. He almost this time got the rhythmic shaping of the opening lines of the march correctly, except for ever so mildly clipping it. The Beethovenhalle in Bonn is a bit dry, so the more diffuse space in the Philharmonie should once more be taken into account. And yet at risk to getting as specific shaping of everything as Metzmacher wanted on the first movement last fall, his shaping of the first movement there was more flexible and mildly more expansive.

Triplet upbeats in violins and lower strings for the march were spot-on, and space provided was pleasing enough for openings of lines to both halves of the Maggiore section, both culminating in fierce accents, as did also the cumulatively achieved fugue that followed it. Note the sustained anguish into trilled cadence from violins in descant toward achieving fine gravitas for all what ensued. There is no rhyme or reason to attempt today taking this music to late-Furtwanglerian lengths and with such preponderance likewise, but for taking another minute or so, Metzmacher should not be despised for, for instance, getting back in full again the hushed quality to closing lines of this and deeper sorrow so much of this music expresses throughout. Michael Gielen on dvd takes similar pace to the march, but with more appreciably full note values upon which he insists therein.

The drier acoustic in Bonn served Metzmacher excellently for bracingly paced Scherzo and lusty trio for trio of horns at center of it, with excellent spring to rhythms and exuberance to go along with it at every point. The scherzo here was thoroughly a success. Metzmacher did not hesitate announcing a headlong pace for the finale, even forcing – in alternative scoring available here – solo string quartet from within the ranks having to almost fully skip a beat or two, for pushing things along so. No special,judged to be insipid enveloping of the second fugue in the last movement was to be found in Berlin either, but here it more merely sounded rushed into instead of just happening so spontaneously as was desirable. Execution, especially out of lower strings in DSO Berlin, going at such a pace, was something at which to marvel, nevertheless. Bucolic romp in full gear was certainly made out of the dance variation in G Minor that preceded it; it must have been nothing short of terror struck into the heart of the principal flute the pace his variation went, directly preceding that. No conspicuous enveloping of the opening of the Andante epilogue to the finale was present in Berlin either, but romantic shape to this great opening of slow, augmented ‘Prometheus’ was clearer. Shaping of the same opening was just a little better than adequate in Bonn. :Light rustic concertato of winds here was equally fine, but leading into a more portentous louder reprise of slow ‘Prometheus’ with accents too projected on answering octaves in brass to hardly serve any useful point – such as one could only find conventional. In Berlin, the ‘heroism’ of this passage was understated, making it movingly the case that the hero here has emerged here from among common man. Though Metzmacher marvelously accented the climax in the mediant (G Minor) in Bonn as well, it stood out in greater relief, even a little more radically so and all as so profoundly felt in Berlin last fall.

After just good space provided for closing hush to the Andante, the closing Presto – so ‘off to the races’ – made for a hair-raising close to what was so often a viscerally exciting account of this piece, fortunately still considerably close to being as free of cliché as earlier in Berlin. Whatever shortcomings the Bonn ‘Eroica’ had for partly following a bit what dogmatic, doctrinaire trends fill our cultural midst – strings so light on vibrato throughout for instance – at least better to have such an approach from someone so fully capable in grasp of form, as opposed to the quasi-academic dilettantism of a Zinman, Vanska, or worse, Zander. Two ‘Eroica’s I have now heard from Metzmacher give indication that most likely all will eventually yield fruit – in part in being more specific as to impetus, intent than was achieved in either Bonn or, with ideally interpreted even numbered movements, Berlin this past year.

Thursday, October 8, 2009

Postlude to BBC Proms 2009 coverage,and afterthoughts

I am late submitting this assessment of what got heard from here of the 2009 Proms, because so much coverage of the festival as both Roger Wright calls it and it really is became so extensive on this blog that little attention got spent elsewhere.

The Proms is very important as indeed the festival that it is, in its promoting new music and keeping in repertoire works that are off the beaten track but still at least occasionally deserve getting heard. I have been made to, I suppose, regret, having missed the Symphony in G Minor by Moeran, as I think, conducted by Sinaisky, but amidst there having been so much else. Of course, Wright writes in Musical Opinion that the festival is also useful as a way to bring new audiences in for the standard repertoire. His recollection of the three part prom by the Koln Gurzenich and Markus Stenz last year harmonizes well with how much I found myself enjoying it online – with it so unusually opening with Mahler 5. I hope that Stenz and the Gurzenich will be invited back soon.

If not exactly a Proms with much that turned out to be absolutely thrilling, as any Proms I have tuned in for, covered over the past several years, it did have its highlights.
The three major composer anniversaries observed were those of Handel, Haydn, and Mendelssohn. The Mendelssohn First Symphony, as conducted by Thierry Fischer, probably deserves coverage in retrospect, since it turned out to be a Proms premiere, and the Proms has experienced mostly consistent fine work from Fischer since he took over at the BBC Nat’l of Wales. The Second I also missed, but of the three symphonies in the standard rep, both the Third and Fourth fared best, under Norrington and Gianandrea Noseda respectively, who first year I covered anything by either one of them from the Proms, I had not been able to write in so favorably (on the BBC Proms website).

Handel did very well, with a mostly wonderful and often witty enough account of Partenope. If it did not spill over in wit as much as did a Rousset conducted Pierre Audi one out of Vienna, this was the more musically eloquent and immaculate of the two and with perhaps also one beautiful combination of intertwined psychological and musical insights. Tula Semmingsen, as Rosmira, gave a stellar performance of the part, with two very fine countertenors with whom to contend, Andreas Scholl and Christophe Dumaux, and very fine conducting by Lars Ulrik Mortensen. The dvd release of this from Copenhagen is highly recommended without delay, for just its musical values alone.
Quite to close to as very good was Handel’s Samson, which has me wondering if Jon Vickers’s interpretation of the title role of this may have ever picked up a hearing at the Proms. It very nearly got coverage on this blog and now stands as the very most likely when it comes up for rebroadcast later this year, as I expect it will. Mark Padmore, though with lyric voice, and having recorded smaller parts for Harry Christophers before, did not seem to have quite either the gravitas or steel to do such a heroic part full justice, but with both highly innate musical and dramatic sense, pulled it off anyway, with terse, but at once flexibly expressive support from Harry Bicket and the English Concert. Once Messiah rolled around, time had become so much of the essence that I could not tune in; casting, conducting of this up next to what had been heard for two major works already seemed second tier, based on my experience with McGegan in Handel before.

Except for fine performances of the two most famous full length concertos in the Tchaikovsky complete concerto series by Hough (conducted by Petrenko) and Rachlin (conducted by Karabits), little of any great consequence seemed to have happened with all this, except to fill in space better filled otherwise. For the Mahler, Bruckner crowd out there, results were as they have been any other year mixed. Jonathan Nott conducted what sounded like quite a curiously detached account of the Bruckner Third, for the only of his symphonies to be conducted for 2009, paired with a cool, glib account of Mozart Third Violin Concerto by Arabella Steinbacher and practically first choice of mine for being the very least consequential new work of any this year, Con Brio by Jorg Widmann. Both Nott’s visit several years ago with a new Rihm piece and Mahler Fourth proved much more what he is worth in Bamberg and also the GMJO concert that provided us such a harrowing account of Kindertotenlieder, to go up right up next to one also by Goerne conducted by Metzmacher earlier this year from Berlin.

Haitink’s Mahler 9 early in the festival with the LSO probably proved the best Mahler this year, even with his adoption of some Horenstein like tendencies, that did not quite help make his go at it this time eschew memories of his earlier recording and other performances of it, but made for very deeply expressive and moving playing in passages of it nevertheless. Zinman’s Fourth with Tonhalle Zurich in its faux proto-academic stance on it was of little consequence; Noseda’s Sixth hit the viscera in a compelling, even harrowing way, and overall sense of dread to so much of it, if having also possibly hit a few listeners as at least verging on two-dimensional. The risks taken still made it very much worth the ride.

Chailly, after a great Brahms Fourth he brought with Leipzig back in 2007, that compels one to think that a new Brahms cycle in his new city should be practically right around the corner, this was so definitive, returned with Leipzig Gewandhaus for the Mahler Tenth Symphony in its most recent Deryck Cooke realization. For those keen on insight into certainly what could have been, Chailly made his case for it about as good as anybody could have. He had a way however during the Adagio that opens this, or so often too also stands alone, making a little exaggerated underlined emphasis on cadential phrases, as though the music in the Adagio needs as much help this way, with such bolstering, as passages for instance in the finale too. Results were then curious concerning this. Metzmacher, however, with DSO Berlin, as part of concert closing the 2008-2009 season with them made the quality of seeing over to the other side, where most listeners see the Ninth and Das Lied as stopping right before being able to see so far, absolutely sublime. He almost made the argument fully compelling that we practically hear just very nearly all Mahler have had it left in him at point of writing the Tenth – but an illusion, because what Mahler himself might have constructed, in his artistic maturity, might have very well been beyond our wildest dreams.

Retrospective of earlier work by Schnittke (an early cantata, Nagasaki, conducted by Gergiev), Roma amor by P Maxwell Davies and of Takemitsu and more extensively Birtwistle pieces – the latter on a thoroughly excellent concert led by David Atherton, came off with very fine success. The latter, with Verses the featured work, that I found so overwhelming a listening experience, with so much else going on, I found impossible to review.Dialoge by B.A. Zimmermann was made just a bit curiously the featured work, though shorter than a couple of the rest, on the prom for Jurowski and the London PO this season. He made this piece mostly count, and so much better a piece than the Andriessen on an embarrassingly mediocre Proms by Salonen and Philharmonia - whereas Jurowski cheapened Debussy’s Jeus so by compromising just almost all its form and rhythms. I regret missing the Holliger eulogy for Sandor Veress, conducted by Thierry Fischer. As far as new music goes, there was quite a collection of a good handful of pieces or so, particularly those by Michel Jarrell (Sillages, also conducted by Fischer), John Casken’s only somewhat Lutoslawski-esque Orion over Farne that proved the highlight for the CBSO/Nelsons prom, and Toshio Hosokawa’s Cloud and Light, conducted by Jun Markl.

For perhaps what was the outstanding instrumental performance this year, the Proms for a second year in a row, paired up as such yet again with Ilan Volkov and BBC Scottish, was Alban Gerhardt for world premiere of new cello concerto by Unsuk Chin. Women composers were also represented by Rebecca Saunders, very well by the way, with ‘traces’ with Stk Dresden and Luisi and perhaps somewhat less consequentially by still considered to be a good composer Augusta Read Thomas. This year will also go down as ‘year of the woman’ at the Proms for also the very fine conducting appearance by Susanna Malkki, even though including a short work of not profound consequence, but not by a woman, on her program. Her program of mostly the Berlioz Te Deum and the Beethoven Fourth Symphony, not always or nearly at all the easiest of the Beethoven to conduct came off as so very fine, it made for my satisfaction the best conducting of the BBC Symphony Orchestra encountered all summer, beating out all the men.

I was looking forward to a surplus of Haydn symphonies, the best protector and watchdog, barometer among repertoire of, for the quality of orchestral playing for any ensemble that there is. With how Vienna and even also Concertgebouw represented themselves this year, I wonder ‘why bother? From Vanska (with BBC), Welser-Most (replacing Harnoncourt) and Jansons, so little of any consequence happened with the petty few for which the Proms allowed space. One could only find it most inexplicable that this had to have been the case. Conductors upon whom the Proms could have relied more reliably include Aimard, Volkov, Nott, Gardner, Malkki, Thierry Fischer, Colin Davis, even perhaps Adam Fischer, David Robertson, and all to whom the Proms could look in the near future to make up for the oversight.

Starting off about equally drab was the complete survey of Igor Stravinsky’s eleven ballets. with merely the suite version of Petrouchka, making the entire series almost five minutes incomplete or from being complete – as conducted by Jiri Belohlavek. Almost equally workaday was the Firebird as conducted by Andris Nelsons and rhythmically soggy and inept the Pulcinella as conducted by Nezet-Seguin. Not what I have usually considered one of Stravinsky’s more interesting ballet scores, the Scenes de Ballet Noseda infused with so much vitality and wit, it came as a shot in the arm in comparison with much that had transpired already. Kirill Karabits brought out such refined qualities to Fairy’s Kiss, it verged on redefining the piece in just the most subtle ways and with equally fine handling of the composer’s rhythms as well, which marked a triumph for his debut at the Proms and for making something so consistently compelling out of a score when played complete has seldom so much been before. Ilan Volkov, who deserves credit at the Proms for offering the most consistent quality of musicianship at least of who appears there every year and over a wide span of repertory, turned in fine performances of especially Apollo, but also of Rite of Spring, it is faint praise to say is the best Rite the Proms has hosted in at least four years.

Zubin Mehta closed the Proms with what turned out by default the best Brahms performance of the festival with the Fourth as played by the Vienna Philharmonic, but not one to quite erase memories especially of the Chailly with Leipzig two years ago or even Ingo Metzmacher’s with DSO Berlin at Edinburgh almost within the same week. Apart from my missing the Sinfonia domestica with Runnicles, not anywhere near my favorite Strauss, it appeared to have been an excellent year for Strauss at the Proms, with the fine and mostly deft Don Quixote with Mehta, but moreover the Alpine with Fabio Luisi and Also Sprach with Jonathan Nott.

If I had to choose best Prom of the year according to traditional parameters – best of the full orchestral programs, then for such a beautifully played and interpretatively probing account of the Alpine Symphony, it was Staatskapelle Dresden with Fabio Luisi for sure, with the very interesting Saunders piece on the first half and unusually excellent ritornelli for the Chopin F Minor as played better than can be usually expected from Lang Lang. Equal to it was the Partenope with the Danish cast, conducted by Lars Ulrik Mortsensen (though not forgetting too how good the Samson was from Harry Bicket and English Concert) and very almost so, the best youth orchestra concert I recall hearing yet from the Proms – the Gustav Mahler Jugendorchester, conducted by Jonathan Nott, which took 2001, Kubrick, space travel out of Ligeti and Strauss and by so doing made something acutely cogent out of each and of the real nuance and fine subtleties with which Ligeti, Mahler, Strauss, and Schoenberg all infused their works.

2009 marked as distinctive a Proms as has happened yet. Each year is unique and brings its unique treasures in each its special way, and in this regard, 2010 probably will be no different, except that it will bring just what is or will be unique to that year.

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