(4 / 5)

It’s rare to see anyone make it to one hundred years old. Even for composers, this is such a non-occurrence, other than Elliot Carter and Leo Ornstien (who amazingly lived through three centuries) that it should always be cause for celebration. György Kurtág, the Romanian composer can now be added to this short list, as he turned a century old back this February. 

Perhaps best known for his Játékok, or ‘Games’, this is spiralling catalogue of mostly piano music spanning over fifty years. Consisting of over four hundred movements, Kurtág was adding to its mass as near as 2021. What I do remember fondly is the full, mesmerising performance done at the Royal Academy of Music in London in 2024, Joanna MacGregor played with twenty piano students. This was an all-day affair and roughly the music of Játékok lasted six and a half hours. 

What has felt more exhausting was the three concerts at Wigmore Hall this weekend, spread out over a near twelve-hour period. Pierre-Laurent Aimard, who was a pupil of Oliver Messiaen, has chosen his selection from this epic piano saga, with musical choices of Bach, Beethoven and Schumann at each step, or as billed here: ’Breath’. Arriving on stage for the morning concert, he appeared aloof, as if not wanting to be there. This was, of course, the starting section with ‘Bored’, where it is notated to walk down the keys and play what is seemingly a random set of descending notes and then back. 

It is the humour that shines through in these first few ‘Books’, Pierre is joined by the striking Lorenzo Soulès, who joined in the boredom and then duos on one piano, famously from Kurtág often played live with his now late wife Márta. A ‘Quarrel’ movement saw them pushing the same repeated keys, cleverly matching a vocal argument of ‘always having the last word’. Of note are the many Bach transcriptions, we sadly did not hear some of my personal favourites though ‘Gott, durch deine Güte’ held the atmosphere of serenity for a few minutes. Most of this first hour saw thumping tone clusters, humour abound between both players and a highly irregular, distilled sound world unfurling out of the piano. 

We heard many numerous parts of this gigantic work, and the little slivers of performance are always a delight. It’s such a shame these die down as the books go on. In the second set at 5pm, Pierre returned solo (same for the third) and had further violent tendencies in their noise and impact. Birthday greetings and a homage to Janáček are present, as the Beethoven Bagatelles often cleansed the pallet after the angular abstractions. Pierre remains a fascinating pianist, in whatever he plays. His power over the keys remains masterful, the graceful consideration for every note with his own eyebrow raising, mouth chewing is for every bar. The Beethoven here is also really strong, I didn’t think this would work with the rest, but they actually did. 

By the 9pm concert, a profound fatigue had set in. The addition of an upright piano on stage, Kurtág’s admiration for the instrument is proven with lovingly sombre writing for it. His use of the middle peddle creates a serene and soft palette, pianissimo indeed. The Schumann here is exquisite, especially the well regarded ‘Im ruhigen Tempo’ from Gesänge Der Frühe. This is some of Schumann’s finest writing and is just so touching on an upright. Little to no ‘performance’ in these later ‘books’, though some warfare still prevails, the reconciliation and memories are the names of movements, aside continuing dedications and poetry. 

Had these concerts been played slightly nearer each other, I may have had the stamina for them, even after hearing the whole work back two years ago. I was not the only one who struggled, as some chose to contribute their own ‘snore games’ during this last concert.  

Fine playing as ever and a stellar reminder of one of the great living composers. 

Photo credit: Adam King

(3 / 5)

I did not have on my bingo card this year London based opera with New Zealand musicians. This paring of Weill and Poulenc is bold and may not have paid off. But I imagine local opera companies were in attendance to check out the talent.

Talent there is aplenty, soprano Katherine McIndoe who has two demanding roles (Anna and Elle) to tackle in both operas. Facinging both musical and operatic forms, she did well in both, vocally content and nimble, though the Human Voice may have faired better for her. The shopping list of sins may not have been dramatically fished out in this production but with the double pianos of Adrian Salinero and Elspeth Wilkes, it was tight and fun listen to. Less of  lecture from Brecht, as the written element is obvious in this messaging. Both operas were translated into English (W.H. Auden Chester Kallman and Joseph Machlis) and clearly audible.

Herry Grigg and Phil Wilcox play the absurd, kitchen sink parents in the Weill. Both vocally solid, paired well behind a cloth for a shadow effect at times throughout. Behind said curtain is percussionist Kepa Malgorzata not seen for most the piece, her banging on drums and tam-tam strikes and a lovely cabaret feel to things. This was musically great, but the production needed a bit more panache to it.

You dont need to do much with The Human Voice. Poulenc’s one hander, based on the Jean Cocteau play has never lost its impact. Director Alejandro Bonatto has kept it simple and the pull is still there. This is always a sad thing to see and hear, Poulenc’s ear for sentimentality whilst also capturing lush chords and harmonies, is a fine thing.

Our lady is off and on her home phone, at the mercy of operators, bad signals and a distant boyfriend. Somethings never change! Wilkes returns on the keys and is sharply grounded to the score. Some okay-ish black and white film is seen towards the wrap up and Salinero pops back, now on flute matching Wilkes, playing the trenchcoat boyfriend ending this relationship.

This was eventful, but more risks should be taken. 

(3 / 5)

After a week of travels in both Austria and Germany, I would find my journey’s end with Parsifal in Bayreuth. For me this is one of Wagner’s best bit of music. A personal and often enticing affair dripping in Christian imagery and themes. Having heard this live twice only in concert form (Marinksy & Opera North), a chance to finally see it staged was vastly enticing. 

After two days of The Flying Dutchman and Rienzi in Bayreuth, I was impressed with most things about both productions. This Parsifal broke the cycle in an odd, fruity production which left me wanting more. Jay Scheib has a bold vision for these four hours, heavy in faith and ceremony. The set design by Mimi Lien would evoke a red light district, Fallout, saint’s relics and florescent tube lighting. Video work by Joshua Higgason would see vast IMAX screens the back of the stage pulling focus on this large stage to the characters in question, live streamed for great effect. An extensive scene of the filmed dressing of a wound, is bloody and has left some viewers nauseated.   

Costumes are a variable: army camouflage, Summer of Love, gowns, t-shirts and more. ‘Remember Me’ is seen on the back of Parsifal for the third act, a nod to memorials in the R’n’b world. This story of the Welsh knight Perceval (the story is here set in Spain), sees him go from boy to man, via the quest for The Holy Lance, which pierced Christ’s side. Amfortas is given the same wound as he also got struck but it, via Klingsor the wicked knight who went off the rails. Kundry, a sorceress at times aids and in other moments torments these knights, via the hand of Klingsor. The Holy Grails also plays a part in the story, the redemptive qualities of Parsifal through his trail by fire to adulthood involve the sacred artefact as well as the Lance. 

I did not find everything to glue together here very well. Actors and the chorus did not always have a lot to do, even in the elongated Transformation Music and the finale. The live video might have been one of the more strong accepts of this staging. Klingsor’s lair looks more like a slither of a Soho nightclub, with flashing harsh colours and a huge crack in the wall. The Flower Maidens sent to woe Parsifal are hippy chic, rich in reds, pinks and greens. The first act sees a towering beacon, illuminated for dramatic moments not really suggesting more than a lighthouse. It just feels like there were ideas for the sets and costumes without any real connecting tissue to it all.  

As the singing went there was little to be upset about. As Parsifal, Andreas Schager proved valiant and rich in the role. Heavy going by any standard, the metamorphosis between these acts sees more vocal drama, leaps and sweeping proclamations for the part. Amfortas, the wounded elder knight, was Michael Volle, who in this take appears to have a severe case of hernia of a wound. A lot of suffering comes out of this role, as he is in pain for 95 per cent of his time on stage, this goes into the vocal line and Volle seeks great depths and finds jewels. Gurnemanz from Georg Zeppenfeld is always a lovely part, here no different in the inclusion of the young Parsifal to their rituals, singing the Good Friday Music with elegance and vigour. 

Titurel, Amfortas’ father is the offstage Vitalij Kowaljow, burring during the arriving ceremonies, as his son writhes in agony. Klingsor is the fabulous Jordon Shanahan and is owning every moment of this. Clad in heels, a salmon suit and foil helmet the ludicrous nature of this version is not a divergence and is fun. Also nicely delivered thanks to the de Sade like take on part by Shanahan, a shame we only see him at the start and end of fact two. Miina-Liisa Värelä had a little iffy start as Kundry, another ocean like character. She really gets into her alluring goth girl outside Blue Banana in act two, with the dress sense. Act three sees her sing very little (two lines), so the second act gives Värelä daring drama in the seduction of Parsifal to betray him. Impressed by her efforts, the audience found her also very effective. The Flower Maidens and Celestial Choirs are choral highlights in an opera hard to stage, here in Bayreuth who could do these passages better? I doubt anyone. 

Said choirs moved me near to tears, the orchestra bounded through this bulk of an opera with reverence and power. Conductor Pablo Heras-Casado did not rush this work and it may have felt a little long in parts, but often the momentum was there and it glistened. 

So, I head home with a broken back due to the famously stiff seats (they make you sit bolt upright) and some of a militant and highly unfriendly audience (some were lovely, honest). I may not return again to the Bayreuth Festival for these reasons, yet the stellar musicianship and artistic displays are always worth the journey. 

Bayreuth Festival will continue in 2027. 

(4 / 5)

One thing Wagner made clear. There would never be performances of his Rienzi in Bayreuth. An earlier work from his canon, there have been versions with various lengths and changes. For the 150th anniversary of the creation of the Bayreuth Festival, ‘Rienzi, the last of the Tribunes’ has been seen and heard for the first time. It’s all very exciting.

I knew not the music, bar the loved overture (the first ever piece of music at the Sir Henry Woods Proms) which can easily been forgotten out of the rest of the canon. There is a shadow which looms over the score, not quite the Wagner most know, the latter darker ventures. There is a leaning on Grand French opera, Wagner’s teacher Meyerbeer a good example of this style. The story is also relatively simple, even with the typical Wagner length of four hours (there appears to be a version as long as The Mastersingers of Nuremberg – 4 hours, forty minutes). Rienzi rises in popularity; this is actually a person from history: Cola di Rienzo from the 14th Century. 

He advances in the polls and earns the Tribune position in Rome. Through dodgy dealings and a lot of Shakespearian murk, there is an inevitable to the story. History never changes. Through this brand-new production at the festival, we get a contemporary twist with touches of Trump, the Titus film from Julie Taymor, Arturo Ui and a whole lot of spin. Given the change and setting of now, it’s an absorbing, at times fun and intimate outing. Though the scale of this opera rivals much of his later, moody output, Wagner creates many vast plateaus for the chorus. They own many wads of this opera.

Directors Alexandra Szemerédy and Magdolna Parditka (also making set and costume) have taken risks and set it in what appears to be today’s world of piercing political duality. The extensive overture sees Rienzi lose a child of his, this grief then permeates the entire opera, tragically effecting his career. The elongated ballet sequence in act two, a staple of Paris opera (with even Wagner’s cheeky changes in other opera caused riots), is a joy here. I didn’t expect this serious audience to be laughing the way they did, as said ballet was a wonderful send up of Bayreuth itself. 

The chorus watch vaudevillian parody of most of Wagner’s operas. Some of the chorus mock us as an audience running about at intermission trying to use the toilet, eat pretzels and make sure their heels stay on their feet. I loved all this, even through its silliness. The event that this was at in the opera would suggest a Met Gala do. Many statements about power and wealth are dripping in this. Its Video work frequently alludes to fascist imagery and news reels. Severe concrete and militaristic attire are the main stays of the set and dress.  

As for the cast, chorus and orchestra, everything is matched near perfect to perfection. I’ve spoken of the many passages for the chorus, who’s emotional depth is touching, nearly profound. Other highlights include the harps (Wagner uses them so scarcely), bells and even an organ into the fold. The orchestra, under the baton of Nathalie Stutzmann glistened and glowed in this mighty piece. This may not have been written for this famous opera house, but the sound thanks to the impeccable acoustic and the finest musicians made this a treat to the ears.

(4 / 5)

Photo credit: Bayreuth Festival

It’s been a whole twelve years since I’ve attended the Bayreuth Festival in Germany. Seen as a pinnacle for opera lovers world-wide, tickets are highly sought after. There are always scandals, I’m thinking back to the head turning Ring Cycle I saw back in 2014 directed by Frank Castorf. This year’s Ring staging saw booing and disapproval due to the use of Artificial Intelligence, though I’ve heard it before and it does not take much to set them off. There are bold stagings and then some! Yet with seats that are notoriously uncomfortable (as Richard Wagner intended) and audiences on the much stricter side, could I make it through the other side? 

This Flying Dutchman is the second this year for me after the Welsh National Opera fare. Here tackled by Dmitri Tcherniakov, get gaze upon a town of limited al space and constant atmosphere. Sets by also by Tcherniakov would conjure up the model sets to a British viewer Trumpton, moments are highly cinematic a la Ari Aster’s Hereditary. The celebratory scene in the conservatory dining room is vivid, and a snapshot of how this story might have gone down today. 

Directors attempt to changes accepts of an opera now. Whilst there are risks here, they work for the most part. The cascading overture features a woman and her child shunned for her fling with a worker, ending with her hanging herself on stage. This was all in the first ten minutes. The ending would drastically tweak things, though it’s clear the curse has been lifted, even with only one half of the tragic duo of Senta and The Dutchman getting a shock death. There isn’t a clear Nordic setting in this outing, some costume choices would evoke the contemporary scene, and the workers don’t appear to have any specific profession. 

The singers and musicians are on vividly top form. World class even. Conductor Oksana Lyniv is a rare lady conductor and listening in the pit (which is famously blocked from the audience’s sight) the storm and intrigue, jealousy and redemption all shone through. The chorus are also exceptional, their reputation also unbounded. With the gaggle of sewing women (here they are instead having a singing lesson), male workers with little to do, or the ghostly Dutchman’s crew, they adapt into these roles too easily. 

Captain Deland is a near to perfect Mika Kares, a bass-baritone has been excelling with his Hagen at Bayreuth. He can make things softer, the gloss of the voice often rings. Senta is Elisabeth Teige, with parker coat and coloured highlights it’s an extremely stroppy take. Her gutsy aria is earthy; her range is considerable and not without colour. Eric, the eye rolling ex-lover of Senta is Benjamin Bruns. This helden-tendor role is intense for its brevity, the constant bickering with Senta make him very one sided. Bruns takes on the role with a breeze and flow. 

Mary the mistress in sewing expertise is given more of a role than just one scene she appears. Nadine Weissmann’s mezzo is friendly, if not always digestible. Her silence in the dinner scene (she is cleverly in a relationship with Deland) speaks volumes and her actions in the finale are what made this new take kin the part quite devastating. 

Kieran’s Carrel is the sleepy Steersman who in the opening act loiters around a bar with other “sailors”. Some raising vocals make this small part often cherished. The third act would see Carrel encouraged frippery conga lines (WNO also did similar) and staggered off perhaps to drink some more. Carrel is controlled in the role one that opens the first and third act.

Nicholas Brownlee is The Dutchman. I was unsure at times if he worked int the role. The audience thought so and I came round topped the idea. In stature and expression of voice, he is the man, demanding drama in phrasing and more tender moments for smoother appeal. I was taken with the response tonight; the audience loved it. That’s what I really wanted to hear. Now to Rienzi & Parsifal!

Bayreuth Festival continues till Aug 29, 2026.