There’s something about two pianos that’s just so exciting. Andrew Brownell and Benjamin Frith at Wigmore gave a sweet coffee concert to swipe away the Sunday blues. Wagner’s Overture to Tannhäuser, in the arrangement by Léon Roques flourishes. Famously open and not as engulfing as late Wagner, the overture is packed with a perfect main melody, towering scales and an overflowing sense of drama. Both pianists captured the essence of this early Wagner opera and it was a fine concert opener. I love the kinetic energy between them. I want to hear them do Satie, Messiaen.

Saint-Saëns followed in a surprisingly dull twist with his Variations on the trio section of the Menuetto from Beethoven’s Piano Sonata Op 31. No. 3. I was left so unmoved by this, it’s amazing how trite the French composer can be. Others after affirmed their dislike. The melody seems to be moved around neither cleverness, nor genius. I will listen again to try and find something of worth. Its a longshot…

Gershwin’s An American in Paris ended with a more jumpy thrill. The great musical is shrunk into these 20 odd minutes, the eternal melodies of the composer always there. The mania of Paris is depicted vividly, the sensational ballet sequence also getting its due here. Andrew and Benjamin looked like they had fun, Gershwin’s scatter bolts of notes are always fun. You should really let rip in this jazz work and they both did. Great stuff!

(4 / 5)

Photo credit: Ellie Kurtz

It would be another train strike preventing me from getting to Bath for the press night of The Turn of the Screw. I’ve been thinking about their take on Machinal I saw on Halloween and through it all, I love coming back. In Benjamin Britten’s chamber opera, the Ustinov Stuido has it’s only second opera performed in it, after last year’s Dido and Aeneas.

It is staggering just how much of Britten’s operas are the abuse and lust of older men upon a younger male. Be it his masterpiece Peter Grimes, Billy Budd or Death in Venice (the latter we will see with Welsh National Opera in the spring), he latches on to these stories as if but an obsession. The composer’s own personal desires aside, he did have the genius to pick work so charged with depth and drama. This Henry James story was a suggestion of librettist Myfanwy Piper, who’s eloquent and piercing prose is a tremendous part of the opera. A  borrowed line for the opera from W. B. Yeats seems to sum it all perfectly: “The ceremony of innocence is drowned”.

The Governess is assigned to be the main care giver for two orphans, in the country estate of Bly in east England. She meets Mrs. Grose with Miles and Flora, and settles in. Things are not what they seem as a sinister figure lurks the halls: Peter Quint. This man has abused young Miles and the prevoius governess Miss Jessel, who also appears in ghost form. Can the new Governess protect herself and the children away from this awful presence?

This stripped back arrangement sees two pianos, a celeste and a lone flute. I’d have loved to have heard the full ensemble, though the weight of the score lived in the duo pianos. Fascinating to listen to, I marvelled at the sour nursery rhymes, English folk like charms  the feverish moments of anxiety, along with the aurora of the other realm. Directed by Isabelle Kettle, I think even more could have been done to add to the atmosphere, two worlds collide in a fight to claim the innocents as their own. A long transparent shower curtain appears to be the veil between both worlds, designer Charlotte Hennery should be praised for her accurate costume design. Some props are present, the children use the pianos as another fun device in their house. Even a dead crow (quite possibly a raven) is used in one scene. All very unnerving…

Photo credit: Ellie Kurtz

Xavier Hetherington is both the Prologue speaker (this could be the children’s father or even Henry James) and Quint. I don’t think enough was done to make him a seriously intimidating figure’, with a grip of power. In voice, Xavier had some beguiling moments, like the children we are won over by his light song. Sarah Gilford owned her role as the Governess. Her gradual decent into despair over losing the children to supernatural forces is traumatic and depressing. Really ringing in voice, never an easy role to tackle. I was quite smitten. Emma Bell as Mrs. Grose give heaps of back story over the awful goings on. I dont think I’ve ever heard her in poor form, in the War Requiem nor Wagner. Her sublime moments of harmony with Sarah was worth the journey alone.

Two fairly challenging roles are for Miles and Flora, here from Arlo Murray and Catherine Mulroy. They channelled the roles well, acting not perfect, though I wouldn’t expect it from such young ages. Arlo’s take on ‘Malo…Malo’ as he learns his Latin was another highlight. Catherine’s glee and darker side are all here, her voice also pleasing. Miss Jessel is Elin Pritchard, a brief character, though with fairly sad moments. Elin offered up stirring sympathy and a clarity in her voice.

Double pianos from Aleksandra Myselk and Henry Websdale were amazing to watch. All the harsher moments, the trills and eerie lines all shone. The celeste also from Myselk came in for colour and sharpness. Flautist Carys Gittins had little to do, though wowed in the second act with weird registers and attacks.

The Turn of the Screw runs at the Ustinov Studio till 23 Dec 2023

Photo credit: LPO

(3 / 5)

The LPO gave a fairly resplendent rendition of Tchaikovsky’s 1st Symphony. Dubbed the ‘Winter Daydreams’, the promise of an exceptional career in music is here. It’s easy to say it’s lovely, yet I found most of the work remained attractive. Not as bold as later work, the nickname easily evokes the imagery fitting for this festive concert. Maestro Gergely Madaras had shape and form, the heftier moments never feeling like a chore. Musically it remains rooted in it’s era of late romance. Typical, if still mostly charming.

In what was orignall billed as a night with Reneé Fleming, she had to bow out. We were given the absolute diva from Romania, Angela Gheorghiu, one of the opera world’s biggest stars. Finally a chance to hear her live! Things started off very ropey with Caro mio ben by Giordani, this being a Italian heavy set. She sang a select few arias, half of the second half must go to the players and Madaras for their wonderful Prokofiev Troika, Polonaise from Eugene Onegin and Polovtsian Dances. Though there were some major issues with her voice, her classic Puccini arias (Madama Butterfly and La bohème) had style, if a little rough around the edges.

Perhaps the most lovely was her take on L’altra notte in fondo al mare from Mefistofele. Boito’s superb aria was the middle of the choices and I think had the most resonance. She seemed to rise above previous issues in the set and excel here. Gheorghiu’s may be past her prime and I truly hate having to say that, yet what I did love was her big presence. Her laughter and lavish costumes wont be forgotten. It was quite camp really. I expected Ru Paul in the front row.

A highly memorable encounter, perhaps not for all the right reasons. 

—

Photo credit: Euishin Kim / Det Norske Kammerorkester

(4 / 5)

Another piece I’m finally getting the chance to hear live. Patricia Kopatchinskaja is a multi-talented singer and violinist who both held the reins and let loose in a furious hour of weird music making.

Whilst I’d think most in the audience wanted to near Pierrot Lunaire by Arnold Schoenberg, we are treated to huge journeys with CPE Bach, Berio, Milhaud and more experiments. Personally, I like the piece to be played on their own and not during Lunaire. I was loving it all though, Patricia dressed as if the sad clown of Italian opera. Her Dada like happenings also added well to the broth. Her singing was furious and unwavering, more sing-talk as the composer intended. Her little improvisations on violin, were quirky, her comic timing also a thing of beauty. The stage is covered in newspapers, hanging coat tails, abstract paintings, and a metallic kettle.

Lunaire is a truly absurd piece. Even for early Schoenberg, the outrageous expression of each song bursts out, so many elements make it overwhelming. The verse by Albert Giraud paints surreal visions and appalling digressions. The band of musicians, with white make up (though more subtle on them then Patricia), also bought manic passions and a commanding presence. I imagine this is a nightmare to play and sing. I cannot begin to grasp it…

I love the extra elements of making this more accessible, also extra important today. Though I do wonder if this is the right piece for the job. The crazy, angular form of Lunaire and the floating, blasting words make it heavy load for most ears. Having said that, this was a fun hour which I will recall most fondly. 

Photo credit: Sim Canetty-Clarke

(3 / 5)

For an evening, Imogen Cooper brought a fascinating programme to the Southbank. Her serious, yet resounding presence rings out. Starting with Bartók’s 14 Bagatelles, Cooper demonstrated the bizarre nature of the selection. They are sarcastic and iconic, touches of Satie and Chopin linger. The odd finger work against the keys is also noteworthy, as the momentum goes. A short adventure with Liszt and his Bagatelle without tonality went straight on to Beethoven’s 15 Variations and Fugue on an original theme. Here things dragged a bit, the concert going into a slow show. Cooper makes Beethoven shine, and her effortless form is what really stands out.

The second half would prove much more interesting. Two Bach Chorale-preludes were a treat, brief and had a synergy with composer and pianist. Curious for the lights to dim as we hear John Dowland’s In darkness let me dwell, a recording for voice and lute from Anne Sofie von Otter and Jakob Lindberg. Why this? As lovely as this departure was, it was justification for the next work: Darkness visible by Thomas Adès. I recall the wonderful performance Robin Green gave of his at last year’s Vale of Glamorgan Festival. It’s key smacking and trills aside trills, still keep aspects of the Dowland. It’s still very pretty, even my plus one couldn’t believe her luck. It is a fascinating miniature. It never fails.

Another Beethoven, this time the Sonata in A flat ended thing, much more alluring than before. The drama of the whole piece was the bouts of anxiety, romance beyond romance and furious rebellions. Cooper became impassioned at the end, her hair rocking out. Aside from this vision, she appeared very calm and collected for the whole night. An encore of Bartók was given. With the genuine tiredness seen upon her face, we left it at that.

 Photo credit: Da Ping Luo, via Park Avenue Armory

(4 / 5)

Wigmore Hall would be packed for the Russian pianist Pavel Kolesnikov, as the bitter chill of London winter called round. I recall his time doing a dance version if Bach’s Goldberg Variations at Sadler’s Wells. I’m intrigued with him.

He is complex to watch when playing. This programme is also hand picked by him and it can’t shake away an eccentric air. Starting with Górecki’s late work: For Anna, the deceptively simple tissue of the piece could omly ever be this stunning Polish composer. The right hands leads the end of the lines with a two-note pattern, swaying softly then a more harsh terrain raids. It’s a piece which demands more listens. More on that later.

Pavel played with grace and fortitude. The following Beethoven Sonataa No. 17, is dubbed ‘Tempest’ and its easy to see why. The control he has over these piece is highly compelling, his Beethoven seemed to whip up a great frenzy and also time for retrospection. His white shirt and jacked gave a light sight in the hall, the lights dimmed and a lot of dark colours abound. La colombe or The Dove from Messiaen led after this, a buttery little prelude mimicking the flutter of the birds wings as apposed to the later bird song the composer would faithfully notate. Performed with a loving sweet and impressionistic scope.

Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A fittingly followed (this was Messiaen favourite composer). The marvellous hopscotch nature of the cheeky piece, Pavel brought insight and charm. He can’t help himself. Often mouthing along with the music, more mime and not Glenn Gould. Naturally, the famous Turkish March ended the sonata in rousing form leading to a well needed break for him, after over an hour of playing.

The Górecki piece was an apparition that did not want to leave the space, Pavel making the choice to have it played twice is daring. It was even more dark and sombre second time round, I think the audience listend even more attentively. The wrap up was Schubert’s Piano Sonata in A minor. Moments of joy are messhed with terror in this off kilter composition. Pavel reaching even newer heights. His seroius style crossed with fun music making. Schubert’s often emotional weight was ever present, some rousing, searching psychology made Pavel perform beautfully.

This arrangement of a piano programme is odd. He might have just gotten away with it. 

Photo credit: Guy Harrop

(3 / 5)

On their last leg of their Welsh tour, Swansea City Opera have made a personal and sweet show about the older men in our country. Inspired by the Mens Shed craze, which started in Australia and now is world-wide, it has seen men in the community overcome barriers and have a go at wood work. Though the craft element is the pulling force to join, many friendships have been made and its looks like men are opening up about their traumas and hangups.

This collaboration with the opera company saw a piece inspired by these stories, of men coming out of their shell after grief and turmoil. It’s a slight story one which, might not have needed an intermission. Brendan Wheatley as director and librettist, also gave a pre-show talk breaking down his role and the opera itself. He likes puns and rhyming, aside many Welsh tics and mannerisms. Lenny Sayers score was accessible for those new to opera, holding up as a spritely, pseudo Jazzy and Blues fair. A surprise and a delight to see a vibraphone and a saxophone in with the musicians. The former I imagine eventful when touring around Wales. A Gnome aria held up as an absurd highlight, only ever a good time. The inclusion of both the Llysfaen Singers choral bouts and the Lisvane Mens Shed for bouts of wooden chorus slamming felt right, proving the true community side of things.

We follow times spent with Ioan, Dai, Rhys and Charlie. Gwen, daughter of Rhys, drags him along to the shed to get him out of the house and to find a vocation. Popping along, he is warmly welcomed and comes out of his shell. The rest of the opera is the other three guys at the shed and what they have gone through, their reasons to join. This did feel like one big advert for the sheds, though if it does get extra members I can only see that as a positive.

The quartet of male singers: Robyn Lyn Evans, Dyfed Wyn Evans, Aled Hall and Wyn Pencarreg have tuned the show after said tour and previous stagings. Their humour, light and hearty singing is the bulk of the show, their histories of anguish and pain bubbling up. BBC Cardiff Singer finalist Jessica Robinson was a fine Gwen, she address the audience through speech and sung with a firm clarity.

I’ll applaud the show for giving opera to those who never thought they would go and also for its support for a mightily important endeavour. You know…I might just pop over to my own shed after all.

Photo credit: Tristram Kenton

(4 / 5)

Performance artist Marina Abramović knows a thing or two about death. Earlier this year she almost died and remarkedly got a boat over to London for her few months here (health prevents her from flying). She is stretched between time at the Royal Academy, South-bank Centre and English National Opera. The latter of which is what this review shall discuss.

Her obsession with opera diva Maria Callas started in childhood, Marina overcome with tears upon first hearing Maria on the radio. Marina’s artwork has always been extreme in command, duration, content and context. I was curious just how this would go down with opera audiences, most known for conservatives tastes and values. Well, traditionalists will find favour in these 7 deaths, each one of Callas’ most revered arias from Verdi, Puccini, Donizetti and Bellini. So seven sopranos treated us to these famous arias, each one as wonderful as the last. Some ENO trained ladies and other international stars really made this show shine. Marina during these hits remained static in bed as Maria.

Fellow Serbian Marko Nikodijević composed the fibers between the arias, creating a subtle yet somehow harsh soundworld. The video work of Marco Brambilla was hypnotic, sprilaing vortex and storms, another highlight. Marina even planned the set with Anna Schöttl, a lavish tribute to the Callas aparment in Paris. Giant video work towers over all on stage, Abramović and Willem Dafoe muck about with various inspired threads on the deaths of these operatic heroines: Tosca’s plunge, Norma’s immolation, Carmen’s stabbing et al. More performance art is here as you’d expect and some of it is captivating, other times a little on the nose. The Ave Maria from Verdi’s Otello paired with Marina covered in huge constricting snakes might just be the best thing you’ll see on stage this year.

The whole opera builds to the seventh airas and we get a scene change after it. Marina directs herself with idiosyncratic spoken word, as she has done during the intermezzos all evenings. Here, her guide to life reach the steps for Maria to end her life: getting out of bed, opening the curtains, smashing a vase on the floor and leaving the room. The seven sopranos come back in, still dressed as their maids outfits to tidy up the mess. Marina returns all golden and sparkly, she does her thing as we finally hear Callas, as her Norma is cut short and the show ends.

One of the more stanger and wonderful operatic exercises this year.

Its runs till 11th Nov 2023.

Marina Abramović at the Royal Academy runs till 1st Jan 2024

(4 / 5)

I recall fondly the form of Cardiff Opera Julius Caesar from Handel prior to the past pandemic. I’ve noted they seem to now do events both here and in Bath. This onward rise would see them tackle on of opera’s most absurdly strenuous offerings…

In these scenes from Götterdämerung, the final part of Wagner’s Ring Cycle, worlds end and new life is restored. This ‘Twlight of the Gods’ remains one of Wagner’s and the art form’s finest creations, innumerable leitmotives are heard yet again, mutated and used as a psychological jab in its effect in the listener. These highlights were around 2 to 3 fifths of the full opera, though the absence of lead hero role Siegfried and to a lesser extent the Rhinemaidens aside the Vassals was apparent.

Guiding us through the harsh narrative terrian of the story, Dave Key-Pugh was an approachable and added humour. I think I heard a mispronunciation of a German name here and there, though it was of little significance. David Hutchings assisted the singers as conductor, with a consideration for the heft of their roles. Nicola Rose as accompanists, took on the fury of the orchestral role reduced to piano with a mighty passion throughout.

The opening scene sees the Three Norms here from Charlotte Collier, Wendy Silvester and Charlotte Whittle. Some quivering notes didnt quite reach their mark, though mostly this scene was fine, as the Norns wheel the thread of fate, as this absurd story is wrapped up over the next four hours. William Stevens has feathered before with the company and his Hagen is quite impressive, his time with Longborough covering the role is note worthy. Hagen who conspires to  obtain the ring from Siegfried, gets some deliciously evil moments whenever on stage. His half brother and sister was from a fitting Alexander Learmonth as Gunther and a returning Charlotte Whittle as Gutrune. Here both singers come into their own, Alexander playing up the character’s insecurities, whilst Charlotte shapes the role with stellar vocals. As Alberich, Niall Hoskin is the thieving Nibelung, who set off the whole story, here speaking to his Hagen in an apparent dream scene. Niall got the delivery right, he makes the role his own.

Wendy Silvester gets what some say is the full Cycle’s highlight: Waltraute’s Monologue. Fellow Valkyrie sister of Brünnhilde, she comes to warn of their father Wotan and the eventful fate of all the gods. Wendy got into this rich solo, meeting the onslaught of delivery. It would be towards the end where her voice buckled, though if not due to the intensity of the writing, I’d put it down to the chillness of the venue. Laura Hudson faced Brünnhilde with a polished scope, the lasting legacy of this role being it’s soaring vocals, redemptive honours and climactic summation. As a funeral for Siegfried is taking place, Brünnhilde beings her massive final epic aria, her immolation triggers the end of all things. Wendy got the pacing and grandeur of these last 20 minutes down well.

I dare say, when are they doing the full shebang?

Cardiff Opera do Puccini’s La bohème at The Mission Theatre in Bath 14th to 17th December 2023.