BBC Proms 2010. Proms 4 and 5. Royal Liverpool PO, Vassily Petrenko. WDR Koln, Semyon Bychkov.

Prom 4. Royal Liverpool Philharmonic. Vassily Petrenko. Simon Trpceski. Royal Albert Hall. July 19, 2010.

What would normally expect to be a more brooding cast over such a Byronic inspired program as this, hardly ever came close to overstating such here. Two familiar settings of the narrative poem Manfred sandwiched the Rachmaninoff C Minor Piano Concerto.

Gustav Mahler’s orchestration of the Schumann Manfred Overture opened, with novelty of hearing this orchestration at its Proms debut refreshing. Several doubts linger on, however, after having heard this for the first time. First there is the cymbal crash Mahler adds at its outset - that especially given 'period', the take-over of such and tendencies to follow - what else can happen. Still, some doubt can linger even in context of a full-fledged Romantic interpretation of this as to whether or not such embellishment fits well the rest. Vassily Petrenko made the overture’s opening chords too brusque for its opening to be effective. Very stark - not provided sufficient relief by these chords - was as written in violins the introductory augmenting of upcoming Allegro's main theme - stripped other than for flutes of most woodwind doubling underneath. Petrenko then fortunately made seem organically generated transition into the Allegro – with airy lift provided its lyrical second subject. Inner driven agitation then vigorously informed the following sequencing of arpeggios.

Elongation of upbeats into descending inversion of the main theme was most expressive, but incited clipping of the arpeggios themselves, making Mahler's open re-scoring of the Schumann verge on sounding too extreme. Lift for continuing building agitation within came loose from pulsation underneath, making transition into what followed clumsy. Making Mahler's rescoring Schumann sound so misguided was Petrenko's cutting out of sufficient weight underneath the tremolo driven main theme, by being so strict to tempo and hard-driven - abetting wrongly Mahler’s having left violin section lines so exposed. Downright crude earlier was clipping of forceful brass for segue into subsidiary idea or thus broken consequent in the first theme group. In the end, good repose and noble poise informed closing measures. This interpretation of Manfred provided modern ears some rescue of Schumann from overused luftpausen, cliche from the past. Motivated fiery response especially from the Royal Liverpool strings, as expected of good risk-taking; all resulted however in almost making something two-dimensional of Mahler's fine re-orchestration.

Simon Trpceski poetically weighted, voiced opening chords of the Rachmaninoff with Petrenko scaling first theme with brooding line, albeit streamlined for it. All made curiously cautious, back-phrased the quickly following scherzo-like episode and then curiously punched, detached the strong cadence ending it. Elaborate reprise of the second theme Trpceski shaped so well also sounded detached from the rest. Suavely insinuated in by oboe, easy transition to a glibly handled, executed Development then transpired. Rhythmic firmness, spring to mercurial piano obbligato to Piu vivo episode making way into stormy re-transition went missing. Petrenko then made yelling contest between orchestral sections amongst themselves and piano obbligato of the retransition - crude march step then strutting forth the Recapitulation. So much impulsivity in a way was compelling, but with little in way of finesse to make any of it count. With minimal framing, RLPO principal horn poetically dignified reprise of the second theme; Trpceski was provided – framed by languorous cellos - space for well limned good pacing of growing agitation to follow - albeit for how Petrenko walloped the final cadence.

Fine calm, nocturnal sense pervaded opening to the Adagio, with winds and Trpceski sensitively marking harmonic changes within finely spun and undulated cantilena to extend out its first theme. Development opened with fine introspection and reserve – toward prudent, gradual building up of vernal like agitation to eventually all spill over; Petrenko then methodically began to push a little harder than he should, thus Trpceski's cadenza sounded more like note-reading than normally the case. Tripceski then recovered fine arch, poise to moderately climactic sweeping line, making beautifully poised conclusion of what remained.

Marked clipping of marcia start to the finale sounded as though trying to prove something; Trpceski then insipidly over-worked the opening theme - with technique to burn to be able to do it. Fine sway of what spun out thereof preceded embarrassingly randy brass to mark stretto finish to opening section. Trpceski gave the celebrated second theme more shape, profile than norm here thus far. Much of the Development, absent of building anything from within, went by stiffly accented, vulgar, especially from brass, but to some extent from everybody. Trpceski in grandiosely recapitulating the second theme even opted momentarily for top-heavy, brittle marcato - to almost be mistaken for Alexis Weissenberg. Trpceski, welcome at it, rushed Royal Liverpool brass – Berlin Philharmonic they are not - off vulgarly making one transition during the coda; approximation of shotgun blast opened final big final reprise – with then truffle-hunt city for rush up to very end of what proved only a partially fulfilling account of the concerto.

'Manfred' by Tchaikovsky also fell short of being entirely convincing. Opening trudge of en masse descending lower strings Petrenko made gruff to extent that emphasis shifted from where expected to the effort orchestral players were putting forth to dig in. Purpose of the writing is to give sense of weary halt of lament in lower winds right overhead. All distinctive shape, meaning to overall line became nearly indiscernible through slowly rocking undulating triplets from lower strings. The reprise (Andante duolo) of then fully formed first theme toward end of the first movement, evinced similar vanity. Deliberate grind on internally agitated lower brass became intent on projecting something in its own right, thus undercutting profile to, brooding character of the main subject here.

The infectious enthusiasm evident in the playing of the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic under its new conductor, Vassily Petrenko makes it still appear he could be destined to accomplish much. Pacing and formal sense on the large scale were quite acceptable here, but the only passages in the first movement that convinced of more important considerations than that were those of the lyrical second subject, pointing to Astarte. The RLPO may still be capable of achieving results of some poise - that overlooked with Petrenko failing to think better of the idea of starting more forceful stringendo or pushing ahead early. Ragged playing in making a couple of notably tricky transitions between episodes also undercut the frame of this majestically tempestuous opening to 'Manfred.' Speed-up as segue into one of these moments - all shifting up and down triplets going flat-line thus far – would require some oomph. With impetus thrown off just enough as happened here, the first movement ended loudly, but hollow.

Petrenko made opening light accents of the Alpine fairy intermezzo sufficiently piquant, apart from rendering some arpeggio working out in the strings a bit stiffly, dryly and not avoiding putting a little bump into achieving loud conclusion near end of the main section. With what clipping got encountered earlier, here as well, the rhetorical lingering over a long extended F-sharp in the violas sounded misplaced; the middle section started at least momentarily with fine allure, pardoning some coy pointing of it by flute principal over dry, tense strings. Violins beginning to shout descant over only mezzo-forte reprise of main idea to the Trio in brass set aside most allure with which Petrenko had begun the section. Awkward negotiation of transitions continued throughout reprise of the main section, but with Petrenko being able to succeed at all effort to keep the coda airy and very light.

Violins of the RLPO then made sumptuous refrain to sagging oboe line to open following intermezzo. After some indistinct negotiation of rapid writing in triplets for strings underneath the flutes taking up the first idea, Petrenko clipped yodeling clarinets, denying them full sense of pastoral repose, contentment all about. Petrenko, youthfully impetuous, continued to mistake loud for impassioned for arched (more gently) sweeping refrain that then segued over to very loud, forced, thus insufficiently climactic interrupting crunch of first movement cadence to all apparent peace about - leaving light winds groping for their intonation, once all had retreated.

Much vigor, heft went into opening the finale - after sufficiently relaxed, atmospheric close to preceding pastorale. Even with what stirred up demonic accents build through the wild dance that takes off here, attention got distracted by fractious playing thereof in attempting to drive the point forward too hard - to point of shrieking from RLPO flutes, thumping accents in lower strings and 1812 Overture style brass fusillade - again, to be so emphatic, out of focus with picture being painted here. Even through dug in fugato to follow, on the surface or on the gut level, there was some real Slavic wildness, excitement here - but as nothing to last in real or imaginative way with the listener for over twenty minutes after all might have been said and done. Andante duolo reprise from much earlier was much the same as then. Now so close to the end of all this however, we arrived here hardly cut above 'hey, boys, we got it;’ sufficiently negotiated virtuosic playing for preceding wild dance and fugato was in fact impressive. Reflective episodes were fine, with possible exception of RLPO violins playing some aching rhetoric up high - paragraph or two before reprise of the Andante duolo. Could they have been the first to discover how to go about such heavy arm bowing?

All trailed off to a fine quiet ending, but seemingly out of place, with blast from organ and brass right before toying with going over the top. Petrenko must come as some relief after the doldrums of Gerard Schwarz, but at end of the day - recalling better Verdi Requiem some months ago that surprised me from this new partnership - it is going to be the finesse or more convincing approximation thereof (when one looks only to the big guns out there to be able to achieve the real thing) that is going to make the case. No amount of publicity surrounding this new marriage - RLPO and Petrenko – will ever be capable of replacing that.

Prom 5. WDR Koln Symphony Orchestra. Semyon Bychkov. Viviane Hagner. Royal Albert Hall. July 20, 2010.

Shimmer of light pervaded warm halo sustaining line through a most eloquent reading of the Prelude to Act One of Lohengrin to set tone for what resulted in far different prom than the previous. WDR Koln strings sounded less entranced than their Royal Opera colleagues last year with what Bychkov compelled out of them, but the more natural at achieving very similar effect. Grandiose gesture with climax to seamless line through this took back seat to maintaining a hieratic solemnity, sense of awe from within.

Viviane Hagner with singing tone then made supple ballade out of the three connected movements of the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto, while engaging Bychkov as equal partner in the discourse – Bychkov never to encroach upon the best expressive efforts Hagner put forth – as could early mentor of his. Rubato between the two protagonists in this they both managed in a highly precise manner, but at same time as though it could have all been achieved improvisatorially. A couple of people took issue with Hagner’s playing being cold or not openly impassioned enough – not enough to project her opening appassionato to the first movement. Regardless there is the freedom a soloist has to achieve it all equally well as heard or felt from within. One could also note the lovely arch with which she gave the second theme, followed by dancing bows on triplets obbligato to closing theme – and later the ballade style rubato in approaching the widely spaced arpeggi ushering in from her cadenza the recapitulation. Her listening to all that went on orchestrally - with how Bychkov and WDR deftly, never portentously limned their part – paid off fine dividends. One might take issue with Hagner’s highest pitches sounding a bit squeezed, but growing evidence of fully achieved musicianship here more than compensated. Somewhat rare is it to hear middle part of the Andante so minutely spaced and harmonized between top line and both solo and orchestral tremoli underneath after Hagner’s reverie limned way to open this movement. Crisply pointed elfin dance was made of lively rondo, her work with Bychkov just as deft and fully collaborative as before - with fine, never prepossessing show of virtuosity in her playing.

This third time to hear Hagner proved ideal. As late added aside here, the support Chailly and the Gewandhaus gave her at her last Proms appearance for Beethoven was perhaps a bit lax in overall rhythms and profile, but paragon, Hagner included, of Olympian classical grace and serenity compared with vulgarization several nights later this year of Beethoven concerto here from Hilary Hahn and Paavo Jarvi.

Essay - recent Levine conducted Boston Symphony commission by Gunther Schuller got played next. Paired here with Strauss’s Alpine Symphony, I thought (mistake made before) I had read ‘Where the World Ends’. Here instead was statement of what music can say beyond where words cease to be able. Schuller practically could have instead called it ‘Where the Musical Phrase Ends’, of which Schuller has made varyingly aborted. Fortunately, most pretense ends there; there is still something to say here. Whereas there may not be the most compelling ideas to stitch much development thereof together, this piece carries along with it more than ample amount of craft – after chance to hear Schuller’s Violin Concerto and Seven Klee Studies.

‘Where the Word Ends’ is in four to five movements, all but opening Lento (first Adagio to which it may be an epilogue) and rapid finale forming a palindrome - scherzo and trio between first Adagio and its more elaborate reprise. Good insinuation of chorale in lower strings forms bedrock for swirling assortment of trills and ostinati in mostly high violins – as out of Bartok’s ‘night music.’ Ostinati at tritone formed against firmly held pedal point; out of this emanated sustained chorale line in the winds approximately four minutes into the first movement. Broken melodic fragments, chord progressions ricocheting off each other, practically four octaves apart, and then groping ascension for opening to achieve long legato line all recall Bartok.

Material from earlier movements overlapped into later - including pedantic repeat of four- note violin ostinato from very early on as theme to start the finale. A deeply saturated Bergian chord helped frame mere start to cantilena for principal clarinet - fitfully to carry on toward assuming better shape – all toward compellingly moving through a second hypertrophic chord - impact of latter which on purpose then must dissolve into thin air, limned by high trills. Stravinskian derived ostinato then emerged - as though to have switched ‘Spring Rounds’ into being in triple meter as repetitive tritone chord went thumping overhead So much simple repetition thereof in the Scherzo got counteracted just so far by seemingly at random interjections breaking in on it. More rapid articulation in groups of four in the finale intimated same idea as just cited here. Similar figuration in the finale fleetingly emulated Messiaen, as also did light wind concertato progressions of close together intervals during the Trio. Trio section proved a highlight – its supple enveloping by harp (only vaguely Brucknerian) of several things hallmark. Messiaen-esque strings’ swirl of arabesque played off antiphonal, bluesy muted trumpets; incidental wind concertato musette therein also proved charming as was already inherent cross-section of intimating at once both Messiaen and the blues

Semyon Bychkov eloquently made levelheaded advocate for this piece, treating this loose-limbed construction mildly ‘high serious' perhaps. It also compositionally goes on several minutes past amount of material that would normally sustain just twenty minutes. Crisper accent to highlight Americana might have assured Schuller a more distinctively individual voice, but working out of so many cross-rhythms, and filigree, its spilling over was thorough here and at supple command. Well inculcated too was fine ear for this piece’s multifaceted, contrasting dissonances and their curious, inventive resolutions. Widely hurled about chords, jagged lines - with stratifying return of Messiaen-esque chakras – brought all to a satisfying, yet enigmatically adamant close – spaciously provided rhapsodic arioso in tuba over muted bluesy writing in brass an integral contribution.

Bychkov then made introspective farewell to his position with WDR Koln with, of all things, the Strauss Alpine Symphony (2009 Proms triumph for Fabio Luisi and Dresden). Luisi had the more panoramic view, with what seemed endless resources of brilliance from Staatskapelle - not allowing display to overshadow overall design of the work or its most richly expressive, evocative qualities. Bychkov had a little less the brilliant ensemble and was more self-effacing in what turned out here a more probing, intimately philosophical gaze at the mountain. By comparison, thinking back, Luisi may now seem to have been caught up by what lavish imagery Strauss sets forth - as to lose track of narrative. Bychkov’s intense focus on narrative was both obvious and subtle. As stated already, he was not to be lured over by any big moment, however grandiose, might it obstruct too much where the narrative should lead us.

Several moments - often emerging as just so much effect - without looking back at what I wrote, still linger on in my mind. In ‘Lost in the Thickets’, indicative of Luisi were numerous brilliant orchestral effects in winds and brass – indeed still quite meaningful. Bychkov, with mordant, dour wit, made perfectly sly, Haydnesque false turns during same episode through especially interweaving woodwinds, in reply to hubris from strings and horns in expressing their being so confident of knowing well the right path. ‘Precarious Moments’ was droller still – fear of taking false step with so much light chromatic staccato triplets down, while austerely giving off sensation of being at high altitude with aimless, broken trumpet calls cutting through the thin air. Such staccato for Luisi could have just as easily, insightfully for ‘Alpine’ been music for Nurse from Frau ohne schatten – different perspective than that of Bychkov but an equally valid one.

Thin atmosphere at the Summit stood out in strong relief - before elation in achieving it, for which on ardent cantilena off crests of the line Bychkov very well observed the fliessend (flowing) marking – not to get parked anywhere. Key moment, and in which on purpose he diffused out the sonic perspective for good phrase or two was during conspicuously arched ascending line in the strings over very stern reprise of ‘Night’ in the brass at end of ‘Vision’ - precisely limned mists rising up right before. Bychkov settled for moderate current to have unobtrusively flow through the mists, occluding the sun’s rays – as to disseminate all occurring right before. Elusive mystery to envelope the glacier episode, albeit with runs on lower strings somewhat obscured, was also fine.

Bychkov risked making Storm anticlimactic - partly due to a quasi-Gallic reticence about WDR Koln, concerning particular tone quality they most naturally project – with Bychkov intent on seldom forcing anything. With Bychkov conducting – no major quip here – especially in taking on Alpine, a subtle hooded quality or inculcated Slavic tinta lent impression acoustically of imaginary cowl hovering over the sound-stage. The Storm in fact starts descent down the mountain – with eventually confidently heroic reprise of ‘Ascent’ music mixed in. Bychkov - affecting a struggle for big arching motif of this to cut through all else - played on listeners’ fears of the climbers at best barely being able to make it. He then made stark outline, suffused with only just enough light to frame line with natural sense of atmosphere - for extended cantilena from WDR Koln strings through Sunset.

As anticipated by the Mozartean velvet, grace with which Bychkov approached Flowery Meadows and rhapsodizing during On the Summit, plus deep musing with which Elegy got infused moments before the Storm, his strings passionately sang the Epilogue over warm French horn obbligato, as to point toward or beyond last glimmer of horizon before all remaining light would fade. As an aside, Bychkov backed off from gilding the waterfalls, then making something bejeweled of Apparition to oxymoronically remind one of the Empress’s music, spirit world from Frau. Through organ and lower brass sonorities, Night subtly but assuredly, eventually stole in toward enveloping all else. Key to this interpretation of Alpine, one less notable for the large profile or spectacular effect, was seamless line with which Bychkov started moderately paced descending lower woodwind lines right at the very beginning. This was not the glib, halfway colorless Alpine of a Jansons or Hans Graf, but one reflective most of all, as though to vicariously, reminiscently enjoy again a great journey.

A mature view of Strauss then, as also possible with Wagner; those out to seek the most spectacular effect with Alpine had to have reckoned need for somebody other than Bychkov. He spoke well in interview of striving over much time, through numerous performances to find the pacing of so much of Alpine (for it to breathe) just right – just as we all must with life toward end we eventually meet. It succeeded very well here.

ROH Bychkov Lohengrin - a magically led sense of wonder

Elijah Moshinsky’s production of Lohengrin for Royal Opera received notable revival this past spring, especially as conducted by Semyon Bychkov. This production has been reckoned a few times a bit stilted or two-dimensional, yet with occasionally good stage imagery for particular scenes.

Bychkov and Johan Botha as the swan knight, plus three other cast members of this recorded Lohengrin absolutely complete in Koln last year. Adrienne Pieczonka, the Elsa in Koln, will sing it for Houston Grand Opera this fall. She was replaced here by a new Italian lyric soprano by the name of Edith Haller.

Johan Botha was here a Lohengrin one hoped might possibly be a great interpreter of this part. It was just only with having such very high expectations that perhaps he disappointed us. Legato, musical sensitivity at his command, fine understanding of the part sounded all intact - evidently still there. He conveyed Lohengrin's selfless love for Elsa very convincingly.

Lohengrin's first entrance, without exaggerating, was sung at the level of a true piano, if perhaps less transfixing than might be perfectly ideal; we have not lately quite had any Sandor Konya in our midst; such is hard to come by anymore. Preparation by Bychkov orchestrally was the best heard for any moment in this thus far.

One anticipated with Botha some heroic ring to emanate following his entrance, but some clipping of rhythms and slight coasting through first ever heard warnings to Elsa ensued instead. In concerted ensemble leading up to duel with Telramund and declamation immediately following it, Botha commanded the line and revealed the metal he still has at his behest. Gentle entreaty to Elsa at “Der furchterliches Weib” in Act Two was endearing. Several soggy attacks and placing back however had Botha retreating from several challenges ensuing late in Act Two – for Elsa to possibly have had some basis for doubt after all.

Botha’s expressive bel canto in the bridal chamber scene and Grail narrative were highly convincing. He though felt he had to prove slightly more on a couple of (tubular produced) high A’s in passage toward end of scene with Elsa than necessary - in making final heartfelt pleas to Elsa to give her fateful question a rest. Proof however of a real artist here came with the great sadness, sense of loss with which Botha infused “Weh! Nun ist all unser Gluck dahin” and grace with which to articulate his decision to concede to Elsa - while before the King. “Zu lohnen” had fully appropriate solemnity - with the import of what “In fernem Land” reveals to us. With caressed tone, sense of wonder, just about all to remain came off scintillatingly. This was very certainly a swan knight made of flesh and blood - with full throttled, passionate “O Elsa! Nur eine Jahr” to make mention of for considerable time to come.

Edith Haller is an Elsa, not far from along lines of perhaps Eleanor Steber, of warm, lovely voice, good legato, but guarded reserve, coolness in reacting to all on Elsa's plate. Here was an Elsa at times not afraid to show some vulnerability, such as right after Lohengrin's Second Act entrance. There is argument too for Elsa from the get-go being slightly less the completely enraptured heroine than for instance Senta or Elisabeth. One still might seek more rapture with "Einsam in truben Tagen” than what some swallowed consonants and low notes betrayed instead. Intonation was problematic only with occasionally pushing the voice at the break and above.

A tentatively phrased “Euch luften” in Act Two similarly lacked something. Haller seemed slow to engage completely with Petra Lang’s Ortrud after they meet, but once re-entering to conclude their encounter, rose well to the challenge of singing alongside Lang, histrionically appoaching being a great Ortrud. Haller then acted very well the bridal chamber scene, subtly hinting at its agitation from its outset, but also eschewing development of excessive hysteria, as has been mistake of several other excessively lyric Elsa’s out there.

Falk Struckmann sounded still vocally intact toward presenting a definitive Telramund. His going through the paces at several venues as Wotan has taken its toll. The voice sounds hollowed out and slightly rough at the edges; steadier voice emerged here than necessarily expected. Struckmann benefited much from wonderful support Bychkov provided him almost the entire way through. One’s attention, listening to him, was on the words of Telramund, thus strongly conveying all the villain’s bitterness, guile, and malice. Vocally he is in better shape eleven years ago under Barenboim on disc, but he certainly held out promise that he has more years left to help occupy the world’s opera stages, perhaps heretofore as a fine Alberich. Such has been the case before with Theo Adam. Struckmann is still a welcome artist - recalling his fine Met Wozzeck, then Wanderer for La Scala during the late 1990’s.

Petra Lang (Ortrud) proved Struckmann’s wonderful partner in crime. One could not ask for an Ortrud more subtly acted than encountered here - quite a challenge to both the Telramund and Elsa on stage, especially so. “Entweihte Gotter” became too pushed, but intonation still remained mostly sound; thrill of her giving it her all though was most convincing.

Expectations have become too low toward hoping to praise two current singers as the two baddies in this. Who else has there been around to raise them lately? Ortrud to Lang is not so consciously evil as much as just out to defend what she observes being seized, encroached upon by medieval Christendom to which she and her world still hold exclusive rights. Lang gave big moment for Ortrud helping conclude Act Three practically enough to raise all the hair on one’s spine. Not quite Margarethe Klose perhaps or even Astrid Varnay at peak of her powers, but still something. Petra Lang has yet to sound more distinctive than how she did for this.

Kwangchul Youn was the warm toned Heinrich, authoritative in terms of always full cognizance of dramatic situation, if not a vocally formidable presence as such. He can not quite fade memories of Greindl or Frick at their formidable best, but with firm line and beautifully molded legato, he conveyed full concern for and well-husbanded authority over his fellow Brabantians. His lieder like sensitivity for text, gentle manner - recalling his palpable reaction to Lohengrin’s lowered countenance in making his final entrance - makes Youn still welcome for any Wagner.

Boaz Daniel – in place of Eike Wilm Schulte in Koln, was fine as the King’s Herald, including in marshaling forces for excitingly led choral work to follow his statements. It was only around middle C that one sensed mild uncertainty – just when pressing down near end of range in question.

As is still quite common, the second half of “In fernem Land” was cut, as also was minute for Lohengrin starting with “O, Elsa! Was hast du mir angethan?” and ensemble to follow. Bychkov conveyed sense of such passages being essential by how he conducted what then little remained - as opposed to leaving so much sounding clunky - usually the case when these cuts are taken. Two considerations however remain. How does Johan Botha plan on sustaining Tannhauser, as announced, when this signature role is never abridged toward relieving strain of having to sing it? On the upside, however, Bychkov revealed the impetus behind the dark side of Lohengrin very well, while even having to make undesirable cuts, but also still maintaining sense of Lohengrin being a ‘zauberoper’ - written in close advent of starting work on the Ring.

There could longer no doubt by end of this how much Bychkov loves this music; his interview comments for BBC were alternatively witty and very sincere. Here is a musician I have always found enigmatic, but still with definitely some fine qualities for working in opera. The opening chords of the Prelude to Act One made one case in point - the sense of not quite being an entirely clear beat for the chords to come in quite one hundred percent together; once same music recurred later in the opera, there was little mistaking how together everything was. A little wearing the heart on the sleeve led to some clotting of textures in ensembles during finales to both the first two acts, but ensemble therein was still sufficiently cohesive to convey fine, fully engaging sense of excitement.

Bychkov’s support for singers, his ear for color and balances from the Royal Opera orchestra was definitely remarkable, especially through practically entire stretch of Act Three. Exchange between Herald and knights in scene that often drags things was visceral, with fantastic entries achieved for the Royal Opera chorus - with it still ringing in my ears the racket this group made under Albrecht for Dutchman a month ago. There was though still something about choral work that sounded beyond what any visitor can fix – wobbly sopranos during bridal chorus and unsteady tenors as well. Time presses then to call for some housecleaning and perhaps for change of leadership for the ROH chorus. This company, after all, has been led before by Colin Davis, Haitink, Solti; it at least should want to continue its strong international reputation.

Orchestral work here further evinced Bychkov in control of his forces – to a very nearly full extent. Pacing was consistently excellent, moving forward, with space provided to for beautifully shape lyrical lines that infuse so very much of Lohengrin. Contrast between sound worlds was also very clear – between that representing the ancient paganism of Ortrud and Telramund and that of still nascent flowering medieval spirit of the time of action. Coloring to a highly chromatic sequence of harmonies – hushed choral reaction to what the two pagans have stirred up – momentarily had one think ahead to Parsifal, even to Scriabin.

The sense of words being best guide to pacing Wagner, as Bychkov stated in interview, was constantly present, and within such sense of a leap to through-composed means being made that much of Lohengrin conveys. With strings down to double pianissimo at one place in the Grail narrative, line still electrically persisted through them. Solo clarinet reminiscence of the joy of the initial moments of marital bliss, according to all both logic and feeling invested therein, was heart-rending, devastating. Should we hear more from Bychkov at Royal Opera? While probably the finest work I have yet heard from him anywhere, the answer should be clear.