London Coliseum, 25 May 2016

This is the sixth revival of Anthony Minghella’s production of Madame Butterfly at the London Coliseum and musically it was very sound. Sir Richard Armstrong takes a robust approach to the score which drives it fast and encourages a wide range of orchestral colour. If it tended at times to almost drown out the soloists, particularly early on, this was a minor complication in the face of fine playing.

On stage there was much to commend the soloists. David Butt Philip as Pinkerton has a gauche charm and the naivety of a very young man out of his depths. He threw off Dovunque al mondo with panache and its moral laxity was well picked up by George von Bergen’s world-weary Sharpless. If anything, it was Sharpless who was the most convincing character on stage and the dramatic intensity dropped when he was not present.

Rena Harms has the voice for Cio-Cio-San and almost convinces us she is only fifteen. The love duet flowered strongly though frequently placing the soloists well up-stage did not help.

As noted above this was the sixth revival of this production though, strangely, it was the first time I had seen it.  I realise now why I had been avoiding it. As a friend noted this was opera for people who don’t like opera. There is no attempt to develop characterisation or intimacy. The start of the love duet is fine – the image closely controlled so that we focus on the characters. Then suddenly they are in a vast black void surrounded by floating paper lanterns and a constant rain of cherry blossom. Think Disney restaging Chu Chin Chow. They hardly sing to each other and there is no dramatic tension, still less any erotic frisson which is what Puccini intended. I accept I am in a minority because those around me were obviously thoroughly enjoying it, but it is surely dangerous to encourage audiences to think of a work like this, which can be emotionally devastating, as simply a pretty entertainment.

Wales Millenium Centre, Friday 13 May 2016

There was nothing unlucky about this Friday-the-thirteenth. WNO was celebrating its Seventieth Birthday with the premiere of Iain Bell’s In Parenthesis. The text by David Antrobus and Emma Jenkins is drawn from the epic poem by David Jones, himself a survivor of the attack on Mametz Wood a hundred years ago. However, this is no piece of historical re-enactment for the poem draws on Welsh Saga literature to frame the narrative and to find for us, perplexed witnesses of the events, a way to make sense and even find reconciliation.

Few new operas these days have such a profoundly moving starting point and the text itself is masterly in its avoidance of operatic pitfalls. As such the movement from ethereal chorus to men on the march is made effortlessly and the characterisation is succinct but frequently profound. The strong cast draws on a number of very familiar faces, amongst whom Graham Clark’s Baldric-like Marne Sergeant and Donald Maxwell’s splendid Dai Greatcoat are outstanding, though the balance of individuality against the overriding importance of the idea of the group is never lost. For this, Iain Bell’s score is heavily responsible. He is not afraid of writing substantial choruses for both the Dryads and the regiment – choruses which are forceful and tuneful at the same time without ever seeming derivative. The new tunes he creates for familiar songs, the warmly moving setting of Sosban fach and the final overwhelming effect of the Salve Regina for women’s voices, point to a deep understanding of how opera functions and can do so without needing to break any musical rules along the way.

If the choral writing is splendid, so also are the lyrical lines for the solo parts. Andrew Bidlack has the high tessitura for Private Ball and his many brief solos have the lyricism and beauty the poem expects. The character is poised somewhere between Peter Grimes and Albert Herring – brash and clumsy at first but later having the spiritual insight of Grimes even when surrounded by danger and chaos. The pub scene which opens the second half is reminiscent of the scene after the storm in Britten’s opera, and has the same balance of warm humanity and a cosmic essence which takes us literally into a different world.

The final scene is the most moving. All but Ball are dead but where most operas would end with a dirge for the dead, here we meet transformation. The dark, often bleak, skies are hidden behind a lush spring tree in full bud. The Queen of the Wood, the versatile Alexandra Deshorties, brings fertility back to the earth and regeneration where there was despair. It is a hope beyond hope and one which is both moving and convincing.

David Poutney returns to good form in mounting this production and draws exemplary performances from his cast. It is superbly lit by Malcolm Rippeth in an un-fussy set from Robert Innes Hopkins.

It was equally pleasing to welcome back Carlo Rizzi into the pit and to note he will also be conducting Cav & Pag as part of the summer season. His sensitivity and rapport with his singers is unfailing, and he showed absolute respect for them and the work itself.

There are more performances in Cardiff until 3 June when the production moves to Birmingham and then for two performances at the Royal Opera House. Do catch it if you can. Let us hope it will return again in the not too distant future – a work of this quality should not be lost.

Barbican Hall, Wednesday 11 May 2016

It is not so much the opportunity to rediscover a forgotten masterpiece as the indication of just where later genius evolved from that makes Opera Rara events so special. Adelson e Salvini was Bellini’s first opera, written when he was 24, and if it does not have the heroic romanticism of later works it certainly has a lyrical flair across many extended passages and a comic creation which he never again exceeded.

Enea Scala made a finely tormented Salvini, who is able to literally hit all the high notes while convincing us of his emotional turmoil. If Daniela Barcellona’s Nelly did not seem to have quite the same level of intensity her voice was an elegant foil to those around her. Rodion Pogossov was a dastardly Struley, with just enough wit to keep from over-exageration, but it was the splendid comic timing of Maurizio Muraro as Bonifacio which really galvanised the evening. Here Bellini leans heavily on Rossini, but without any sense of plagiarism. It is simply he has learnt from the master how to spin a comic line. It is a pity that, unlike Donizetti, he did not develop this in later years as he seemed to have a real flair for comedy.

Daniele Rustioni conducted the BBC Symphony Orchestra with flair and the men of the chorus from Opera Rara added enthusiasm to the celebratory scenes.

Though this was a concert performance, Kenneth Richardson directed the movement with grace and the lighting helped the atmosphere. As usual though the light in the auditorium was so low it was impossible to read the programme or take notes.

The next offering from Opera Rara is Rossini’s Semiramide during the Proms this summer.

Ex Cathedra, Milton Court

One of a series of imaginative Ex Cathedra concerts to mark Shakespeare400, this event was an interesting and entertaining blend of words and music.

The first half consisted of an account of an ode written by David Garrick in 1769 for the first ever Shakespeare jubilee. Reconstructed with music by Henry Purcell and choruses by Sally Beamish, it’s a piece which is joyfully celebratory. Actor Samuel West, in Georgian costume, played Garrick with warmth and wit, his contributions seamlessly linking the musical items. Ex Cathedra makes a wonderfully rich sound because it’s a small group most of whose members are accomplished soloists so it’s in the same league as The Sixteen or the BBC Singers. And Jeffery Skidmore who founded the choir in 1969, and still directs it, also drew an elegantly supportive sound from a trio of original instruments including bass viol. Soloists emerged to sing certain numbers with Jeremy Budd being delightfully entertaining as Falstaff and there was some rivetingly good singing from Katie Trethewey.

After the interval came The Shakespeare Masque, a new work commissioned by Ex Cathedra from Sally Beamish and current Poet Laureate Carol Ann Duffy. It’s a community piece and Ex Cathedra has worked with local primary school children in each of the venues where it has performed this concert. At Milton Court the children came from Manorfield, Arnhem Wharf and John Scurr primary schools and were placed in the gallery above the stage. They’d clearly been well trained and contributed in a professional manner. Young people from the regular “academies” which Ex Cathedra runs to ensure that keen young singers get the opportunity to improve their skills were on the stage itself.

Also on stage was a larger six piece original instrument band and the score required plenty of colourful and deft solo work, especially for William Lyons leading on flute and recorder; for David Miller on lute and Emilia Benjamin on treble viol. Behind all this was the core Ex Cathedra choir providing ensemble with occasional solo spots. The whole thing was well stage managed with a lot of moving about and, yes it reminded me of Britten’s Noye’s Fludde which is, I gather, exactly what Skidmore intended – complete even to a bit of audience participation which we had to practise before the work began.

As for the sound, the music is often ebullient, even witty in places. Elsewhere it is often haunting and ethereal especially in the twelfth number “Under the Mulberry Tree”.

Susan Elkin

Thursday 28 April 2016

Is Vaughan Williams’ Third Symphony really so rarely performed? Sir Mark Elder obviously thinks so and spoke strongly about its merits prior to the performance though, with fine playing throughout, it hardly seemed to need such a large plug. Moreover, performing it immediately after Butterworth’s A Shropshire Lad and before Debussy’s Las mer gave it a solid context which hardly needed added explanation. I am not against conductors speaking to the audience but felt that, on this occasion, it did little to add to our understanding and lengthened an evening which, unfortunately, over-ran badly.

Butterworth’s A Shropshire Lad can come across as a rural idyll but Elder finds levels of melancholy and loneliness in the work which are highly convincing. The touches of portamento in the strings hint at an understanding which is more than simply archaic. In the light of this interpretation we were well prepared for the ambivalence of the Vaughan Williams. Again this is very far from a pastoral idyll but none the less is clearly wedded to an understanding of the relationship of humanity to nature. The first movement, for all its introspection, seems to regularly flood with birdsong, calling us to a world of innocence which might exist if only man did not. This mood is carried over into the second movement where the solo trumpet provides a distant, cold, reminder of man’s presence and final judgement. It is a world away from the trumpet solos in Mahler and chillingly so. The third movement’s heartiness contrasts with the continuing bird song, but seems shallow in comparison and so we are led to the keening of the solo soprano in the final movement. Louise Alder, off-stage throughout, filled the hall easily with a gentle warmth and Mark Elder drew our attention to the different impact of the two passages she sings. At the opening her line is underpinned by a soft but uncomfortable tympani; at the end it is supported by high strings. Though the pain continues, we know we have moved from despair to resolution and compassion. It is a wonderful work, and yes we do not hear it often enough.

After the interval we had moved from English impressionism to French, opening with a forthright account of Ravels’ Piano Concerto for the left hand, with Cedric Tiberghien as soloist. The strident writing and vivid colours contrast the fluid lyricism of the cadenzas which were given limpid clarity by the soloist. His sensitivity towards the period was exemplified in the Debussyan encore which followed.

Ending the evening with Debussy’s La mer almost came as a shock after the earlier works. The crisp open clarity, the sparkle and enthusiasm which the orchestra conjured up, was like a splendid cold shower after a very sweaty race. Detail was exemplary and dynamic changes always firmly focused. Those who had to slip away before the Debussy started, given that we were now running thirty minutes behind the expected time, missed a wonderful conclusion, and there was something of a scramble to get out following the final note. A pity, music making of this quality deserves better – and that is down to the planning.

Barbican Hall, Sunday 24 April 2016

Sir Mark Elder has a fine reputation for his Elgar interpretations and this was very much in evidence last night. If the tempi are often on the slow side, the phrasing and balance are exemplary, and when the choruses need to bite, they certainly do so.

Allan Clayton brings a clean, very English, voice to Gerontius himself, but to this is added a ringing heroic top which made Firmly I believe, and Take me away genuinely thrilling. His diction allows the text to have real impact, particularly in the second half where his encounters with the Angel were warmly human. There is little sense of pain or angst here, more of commitment and conviction. It was very moving.

Gerald Finley was equally moving as the Priest. If the voice is not the stentorian bass which we often hear, its warm baritone is more affective for its lighter tones. This was even more true of the intensity he brought to the Angel of the Agony.

Alice Coote has a real gift in being able to sing with the lightest of touches and yet be hear d over Elgar’s often dense orchestration. The opening of part two was delicate and personal, with no sense of triumphalism even in the more explosive alleluias. The Angel’s farewell was moving without every becoming sentimental. Together, the three voices brought us an interpretation based far more on hope and confidence than on pain and judgement. It was totally convincing.

The LSO chorus were in fine form, the dynamic changes made with ease and the text carrying well. They were joined by members of the Guildhall School Singers for some of the choruses, where the extra voices gave us even greater impact. The final bars of Praise to the Holiest seemed to go on into eternity.

The LSO know this work well but there was never any hint of this being just another performance.  Solo parts are always well found, and on this occasion the harps seemed to be even more important than usual at key moments.

There was no sign that this was being recorded. A pity – many could benefit from a reading of this intensity and joy.