Theatre Royal Brighton, 9 May 2013

We are used to site specific presentations but it is not often that a conception is so closely linked to a particular building and set of performers. In approaching Britten’s Canticles Neil Bartlett wanted to ensure that those developing the individual sections worked within the parameters of the bare stage at the Theatre Royal and only rehearsed on that stage, coming together with the musicians a few days before the first performance.This gives a frisson not only to the sense of immediacy but also to the high level of trust between the various components and their presenters.

At the heart of the creation is Ian Bostridge, singing as beautifully as ever but lending an astringency to the music which acts as a link throughout the five sections. He rarely leaves the centre of the stage and in many ways the world revolves around him.

Though the Canticles were written over a period of 27 years, their spirituality, more than anything else, is what unites them, and it is this heightened awareness which made the evening so satisfying.

The emotional out-pouring of love in My beloved is Mine is mirrored by dancers who combine the most banal of acts – sharing breakfast, getting dressed – with the pain of parting, and this flows easily into Abraham and Isaac where lovers become father and son, with the threat of imminent death coming between them. Ian Bostridge was joined by Iestyn Davies in a touching scene, the text carrying the weight of the action without any need for extraneous movement.

John Keane’s film for Still falls the rain was possibly the least successful idea as the extended video worked at a different rhythm to the music, setting up unexpected and often contradictory responses. Richard Watkins’ solo horn was sensitive and moving, drawing us back to the intensity of the music rather than the visual images.

Paule Constable approached The Journey of the Magi through the most subtle of lighting, suggesting constant transitions while the singers remained static. Given the unsettling nature of T S Eliot’s verse this was remarkably effective, and made an apt prelude to Wendy Houston’s direction of The Death of Saint Narcissus. Where Julius Drake had been ever-present at the central, and very dominant, piano so far, now he was gone with only the delicacy of Sally Pryce’s harp playing to compensate. The sense of a slow drift towards death was implied in every note and every step from Dan Watson’s shadow, twirling against the black vastness of the Theatre Royal’s stage. The falling curtain seemed like the final act in a crematorium, cutting us off from another world.

A festival performance in every sense of the word, and one which can be caught when it moves to Aldeburgh on 11 May and the Linbury Studio, Royal Opera House 10-12 July. BH

St John’s, Smith Square, 8 May 2013

A promising career as a concert pianist was cut short in 1990 as a result of a trapped nerve. Since then Angelo Villani has gradually worked towards a full return to the concert platform, and this was his first solo recital at St John’s, Smith Square. That he continues to show great promise is without doubt, but the concert was uneven in delivery and impact.

He opened very strongly, linking three Debussy preludes into what was effectively a lyric suite. La Terrasse des audiences du clair de lune, an unexpected rarity, was given a gentle, improvisatory approach, dwelling on the solitariness and loneliness of the composition rather than any potential romantic yearnings. This was in splendid contrast to The Girl with the flaxen hair, whose warm romanticism mirrored the cool deliberation of the opening prelude. Minstrels proved a suitably tongue-in-cheek conclusion though it highlighted the darker moments of the work with skill.

The following two Chopin nocturnes never quite came to life. A reserved, almost hesitant, approach to Op9 No1 never allowed the musical line to blossom and Op9 No2 seemed at times perfunctory in its lack of phrasing or clear dynamic structure.

Reminiscences of Tristan und Isolde was heralded as a premiere of a new concert paraphrase. In the event it was a short but dense arrangement of the Liebestod. It opened strangely with a musical line which is not in the opera, working its way towards the Tristan chord, after which it moved rapidly towards a combination of the orchestration for the love duet and that for the Liebestod. It was difficult to tell what was in any sense new in this arrangement, and the phrasing only occasionally came close to the over-powering impact of the work in the theatre.

This ambivalence towards the works being played continued in the second half. Angelo Villani obviously has a great deal to offer, but this concert only went a small way towards proving it. BH