(4 / 5)

It’s incredible to think that there has been just one WNO production of Madam Butterfly for around 40 years. Revived many times, of course, but still remarkable. So it’s difficult to put to one side the Japanese post-colonial setting with which so many of us are so familiar.

But lay it aside we must, and approach this new production, directed by Lindy Hume, with an open mind.

It’s worth it. We are catapulted into the future – quite when is not important – and the effect is startling. Unencumbered by place and time, our attention is focused on other aspects of stage management – set, lighting – and of course the music. Costume by Isabella Bywater, is stark, and yet subtle. White is the predominant theme here, but from which era? We see late50s/early60s-inspired dresses; boots straight out of the 70s; nods to early 80s New Romantics, all adding to our sense of dislocation of time and place.

Set and lighting take centre stage here. The Pinkertons’ Americanised home could be found anywhere, a stripped, blank cubic canvas in and around which the action centres. Framed in a harsh neon square of light, Butterfly and Suzuki in particular appear trapped by confinement. Contrast this with the soft and skilful use of colour washes by Lighting Designer Elanor Higgins, on the outer walls of the stage. Rose petals, the sea and the sky, dusk, daybreak are all beautifully captured through the medium of lighting alone.

Alexia Voulgaridou manages to capture both the tender love and the horror felt by Cio Cio San on learning her fate. Leonardo Caimi’s tenor is fabulous in demonstrating his sense of entitlement and Western superiority, and both Goro and Suzuki (sung by Tom Randle and Kezia Bienek) fulfil the demands of their roles well. Other parts are sung by Keel Watson, Sion Goronwy, Neil Balfour and Sian Meinir. As ever, one of the highlights was the magnificent orchestra under the baton of James Southall, and the ever-reliable chorus. The scene accompanying the hauntingly beautiful Humming Chorus will stay will long endure.

A bold production which, via its dislocation of time and place, serves to demonstrate that this saga of power and entitlement is, arguably, as relevant to us today as it has ever been.

(4 / 5)

I’ve been slow to return to our BBC National Orchestra after restrictions have lifted. For me, they remained a large part of my concert going in Cardiff, with many dates in the cultural calendar. 

Finally back to seeing them, a concert of Grace Williams and Mahler would dominate an evening. Born in Barry, Williams is evocative in her Sea Sketches, a vision of the Welsh coast during her exile in London in WWII. They give off a clear British feel, Benjamin Britten would trump this mood with his opera Peter Grimes a year later. Written for just string orchestra, it finds a way to depict the sea through scales and a tense underlay of notes. The chippy Sailing Song lifts the air and Breakers impresses, with he final movement Calm Sea in Summer being the most celebrated extract. More of Williams in the canon could only be a good thing.

The German conductor Christoph König is in demand internationally. It was in the 5th Symphony by Mahler that he really got to show off, bringing these stalwart players to attention. I might be sad to say that some moments in the brass were a little off, yet for a work which is about 70 minutes long, we can let that go. Also live on Radio Cymru, this large Cardiff audience lapped up this grand picture that the infusion from he Austrian composer. Some highly intense moments with the percussion and brass add to this sound world, the famous Adagietto a soft and somber ten minutes, a must needed rest bite from the dower thoughts and irony.  

I’ll confess this work is over played, been forgotten by major orchestra for the some decades. BBC NOW have embraced the piece, with most of his other symphonic works along the way. My heart yearns for the lesser heard things, the 2nd and 3rd Symphonies are extremely powerful examples. The visions of the Alps, forrest, waltzes, misery and the universe are never far away from Mahler, the 5th having some of the finest examples. The composer went through a lot in life and at this time I’m thinking of my own heart break, loss and health conditions. 

We hope the orchestra will continue with a more adventurous programme, something they were well regarded for in the past.

(4 / 5)

Escapism.

That is what we are all coveting right now, isn’t it? To be transported to a world devoid of distractions, anxiety, and exhaustion – even for just a couple of hours. I was lucky enough to find a welcome slice of escapism thanks to the talents of contemporary classical music ensemble UPROAR’s latest production, Scenes From A Street.

Now, full disclosure. I am not a classical music expert. Nor have I ever claimed to be. However, I do champion anyone who wants to break barriers and make the arts an ever expanding and inclusive space. UPROAR’s claim to seek ‘new ways to break down the fears and misconceptions about new music’ had me instantly intrigued. Fear and misconception are words that are easily equated to artistic practices like contemporary classical, due to many people (myself included) feeling as though they can’t engage because they lack knowledge. This promising welcome from UPROAR gave me the confidence to take that leap and give myself over to the classical world for the evening.

Scenes From A Street consists of works from five composers based in Wales, each presenting a piece which captures UPROAR’s ethos of bringing ‘contemporary classical music into the heart of everyday culture’ – a phrase we don’t hear often enough. Again, there is no prerequisite here to be an aficionado of classical. If anything, having little prior knowledge presents the experience in its truest form, allowing full immersion in the musical story.

Each piece provided a unique sound and style, instantly transporting the mind to various locations, scenes and scenarios. The entire experience is one that initiates all the senses and emotions, resulting it a truly unique experience and allowing the audience to really feel what is played out in front of them. From states of calm and innocence to unsettling doses frenzy and panic; if you are looking for a way to allow your brain to switch off from worldly distractions, Scenes From A Street provides this with ease. Immersion and escapism were particularly present in Guto Pryderi Puw’s ‘Popping Candy’ – a beautiful ode to the delightful fizzy fun found in the nostalgia of the popular childhood treat. It was especially lovely (and skilful) to present the audience with their own pack of popping candy at interval, taking the immersive musical experience to new levels and allowing us to create our own crackling composition while awaiting the next musical morsel.

Of course, the skill of the composers shines through that of the musicians tasked with breathing life into their work. There is nothing quite like witnessing an ensemble lost in the rapture of a skilfully crafted piece of music. It is almost bewitching to bear witness to the passion, enthusiasm and connection each musician has to the works they are performing. A truly joyous and moving experience and each member of UPROAR’s ensemble deserves the highest ovation. A special word of commendation is also directed to the wonderful staff at RWCMD – extremely welcoming, helpful and knowledgeable, which is never to be underestimated.

All in all, to the untrained ear of contemporary classical like myself, UPROAR’s Scenes From A Street will feel wildly new – but that is exactly what they set out to achieve. Although it can feel daunting at times I would highly recommend, regardless of your musical persuasions, to give yourself over to the music and allow any fears and misconceptions of contemporary classical to escape. You never forget your first, and I’ll never forget my first evening with UPROAR.

UPROAR Scenes From A Street is playing at Aberystwyth Arts Centre on 25th March and Borough Theatre @ The Priory Centre, Abergavenny on 8th April 2022.

(4 / 5)

This St David’s Day is filled with worries. We’re in the post-pandemic timeline, with the worry of war also everywhere. My own thoughts on nationhood are usually compromised today and sometimes not feeling Welsh enough does enter my mind.

If only for an hour, the Harp Ensemble from the Royal Welsh College made everything okay, with a fine programme native to Wales and artists inspired by our country. Monika Stadler evokes the Preseli Skies in a light opener, the ladies of the ensemble warming up for this concert. It’s the interplay between each harp that was highly stimulating. You didn’t know where to look at times. Melodies abound in this fine little piece.

David Watkins’ Petite Suite was another sure fire delight, the Nocturne in the centre particularly noteworthy, the Fire Dance finale had some pleasant dynamics as well. In a more austere choice, one of Wales’ biggest 20th century composers: William Mathias and his Zodiac Trio made more of a chin stroking choice. Each movement is the Zodiac sign of the musicians who premiered the work (Pisces, Aries and Taurus) and Mathias isn’t afraid to try more experimental modes, even if it still feels quite conservative in nature. Flickers of Messiaen and serialism hit the ear, though the combination of harp, flute and viola might not sound as enjoyable as you would think. Through this, I still want to hear more of Mathias, who seemed to have a big impact on Welsh music.

Our host for the concert, tenor Rhydian Jenkins delivered three sublime Welsh songs. The delights of Mae Hiraeth yn y Môr and Llanrwst really made this special, Jenkins having a bright, easy voice with a little strain in the high bits (he mentioned how hard the latter song opens with some very high notes). Dafydd y Garreg Wen in an arrangement by Meinir Heulyn saw Jenkins sing with the return of all six harpists in another superb song which proves why we are known as the land of song. Wrapping things up with the Jig-a-Jig from Catrin Finch’s Celtic Concerto in an arenment by Jeff Howard. Having heard this before, Finch’s mastery over the harp is evoked in this pristine and sunny work, with it’s opening a tune worthy delight, never waining and always uplifting. Perhaps things wont be so bad after all?

Harps of the Royal Welsh College: Nia Evans, Cerys Rees, Jemima Small, Matilda Whates, Yasmin Richards & Bethany Coggon. Tenor, Rhydian Jenkins, flute Lila Bhattacherjee and viola, Michael Cilburn.

(4 / 5)

In a return to live events, the all ways reliable afternoon concerts at St David’s Hall would be my first venture out in this new year.

This first outing for me saw Azerbaijan born cellist Jamal Aliyev and Estonian accompanist Maksim Štšura. It annoyed me that the entire programme was completely changed (Chopin, Schumann and Martinů were billed), though a new show of tricks saw pieces I’ve never heard. Turkish inspired music began filled with experimentation and jazz. Though giving of a feeling of let’s try this and that, I found moments particularly enjoyable: the Henry Cowell like manipulations of the piano and perfumed cello lines were highlights.

An arrangement of Paganini’s Variation’s on a theme of Moses in Egypt takes snippets of Rossini’s really heard opera and shows off the violin, or the cello in this instance. Jamal really gets to prove his talents in this piece, the composer usually pushing the fundamentals of performing along with dynamics. No one takes on Paganini lightly, you feel Jamal has taken great care to bring this together in a showcase of both vim and intrigue.

Some slow tango vibes followed in Oblivion from Piazzolla. Pushing the genre to new heights, Piazzolla has the fortune of being accessible and experimental. Whilst this is not his most audacious piece, I found some joy in this brief outing, evocative of the tango genre it calls back to. Wrapping with up with a work by cellist composer David Popper also gave Jamal more chances to shine. He doesn’t really need to play anything special to prove his talents. Maksim on piano also being a highly watchable, refined pianist, who joins Jamal in this almost hour of fine music making.

(3 / 5)

Thank goodness for Opera Vision! Throughout lockdown their YouTube channel has screened a wide selection of international opera. This has been a well of resources at this time and I found myself drinking in its heady properties. It’s a well curated pick ‘n’ mix of treats, something for all tastes.

Iolanta, Tchaikovsky’s last opera (and a slight one at that), is now seen again in the Swedish capital since 1893, the year after its premier in St. Petersburg. One can understand the reasons why, but debate over Russian opera is the subject of a bigger discussion.

https://youtu.be/21KRHLp5Tio

In this new production, Director Sergey Novikov is trying to tackle themes of an internet culture, with variable success. The greenery of Provence seeps through the truth and lies of this internet generation themed production. Characters taking a selfie and the use of phones does not add to the mood of the story nor enhance the production, mostly set in Aleksandr Vysotskaya’s plush, gothic garden. Watching online, you pick up on a clunky feel with some of the scenes, especially with the use of the chorus members, who excel in their roles but not in their blocking.

Video work by Dmitrij Ivanchenko represents both security cameras and a giant phone. The typical shots of a lingering set of eyes feel apt to the themes of the story and more of this could have emboldened the atmosphere. The formal, monochromatic costumes of Mariya Vysotskaya feel like they have some historical weight, although without a defined period. Let’s not forget the sun-kissed youths who seem to be off to the beach, for some reason.

You can feel the rugged energy emanating from conductor John Fiore, although the cameras recording the production are rarely on him. The Royal Swedish Orchestra kept up gracefully with the dynamics of the story, rich in lush double harp and sincere, reedy woodwind. For me, there is no real standout moment from the opera, even if two arias and a duet can be considered as highlights.

Some problematic elements still linger concerning staging this opera. The lead role is a blind character and thus debate concerning who should be playing her. The “blind acting” of Olga Shcheglova might be considered dated by many, although her portrayal of the title character is one of the most appealing aspects of the production. Locked away, kept from knowing how her blindness debilitates her, Shcheglova plays Iolanta with a naïvety and fragility. It’s everything you’d want the part to be. Like many opera heroines, so many decisions are made for her, without any consent.

Perhaps the most shocking moment came with the arrival of the Muslim doctor Ibn-Hakia, a “brown-faced” Dmitry Yankovsky. Taking on board the Continent’s polarised stance of “black-face”, this still is a jarring sight. Despite this, I would say Yankovsky sings with a fiery, harsh intensity for this vital role (he somehow cures Iolanta, so she can finally see).

King René is played by Stanislav Shvets, who plays the intimidation card well. The command in his voice is what makes such Russian singing so mesmerising. He is not on stage enough. Robert, Duke of Burgundy is not an essential character, his role only to be there as an arranged groom for our leading lady, in an agreement made years past. Yet, in the role, Konstantin Brzhinskiy seems to enjoy time on stage with bravado, impressive in tone and feeling. Nursemaid Martha from Klementina Savnik is deeply perfumed and a fascinating, brief sound to hear of which I wanted more.

However, the show belongs to a masterful Igor Morozov as Iolanta’s “saviour”, from Greve Vaudémont. Not only does he get the princess, but our praises. The intense moments in the fourth and final scene, where you assume tragedy will strike, standout.

The streaming of the production was not without fault. The English subtitles occasionally did not indicate that two people were singing simultaneously. Although we have these videos online for a few months, perhaps a whole year would be invaluable. It’s what we all need at this time.

Watch Iolanata on Opera Vision, available until 15th April 2022. Subtitles available in English, Swedish and German.