Combining Steven Berkoff’s brutally in-yer-face libretto with the gutsy music of Mark-Anthony Turnage was bound to be an explosive mix. The result was Greek, Turnage’s first opera (or, more accurately, Singspiel), first performed in 1988 and now given an inspiring new airing from Music Theatre Wales. Berkoff’s text was adapted from his own play, based on the Oedipus myth.
The last of this season’s Proms Choral Sundays featured one of the most complex of all choral works, Beethoven’s massive Missa Solemnis, written around the time of his 9th symphony. Sir Colin Davis likened performing it to “Failing to reach the top of Mount Everest”, and Sara Mohr-Pietsch (in her excellent Proms Plus talk) mentioned the description of “the most famous work you have never heard”.
The second of this year’s Proms organ recitals was given by Thierry Escaich, the organist of St-Étienne-du-Mont in Paris, a performer continuing the centuries-long tradition of Parisian organist composers whose work is grounded in improvisation.
I have to confess that an event like this is not within my normal musical radar. My music reviewing and listening is predominantly serious classical, and most of it is for a specialist part of that wide repertoire. So it was a slightly brave, or foolhardy, idea to offer to review one of these musical spectaculars at my local castle.
Following Alina Ibragimova’s recent residency in the medieval Library of Chetham’s School during the Manchester International Festival, her programme of some of the most complex solo violin works has now transferred for a short spell at Wilton’s Music Hall as part of the Barbican’s summer Blaze festival.
The Proms Choral Sundays series moved from last week’s dramatic opening (Havergal Brian’s Gothic Symphony) to the more familiar but no less spectacular territory of Verdi’s Requiem. Since 1956, this has been a Proms regular, with 16 previous performances, including a run of five in the eight years from 1956 to 1963.
A work scheduled to last nearly two hours could be excused for starting with a long slow build up, but Havergal Brian’s massive Gothic Symphony (the longest symphony ever composed) bursts onto the scene with a brisk and bustling march-like flourish, contrasted briefly with a delicate violin solo that reminds us that this is very much an English composition.
The enormous organ of the Royal Albert Hall had a busy Sunday. In the evening Prom, it was due to add even more volume to Havergal Brian’s monumental ‘Gothic’ Symphony, whilst during the afternoon it was given to the charge of Stephen Farr, one of the UK’s most compelling organ recitalists, for a solo recital.
This was the showpiece concert of this year’s City of London Festival and took place in the spectacular surroundings of St Paul’s Cathedral. Three key French composers were featured, concluding with well-known 3rd Symphony of Saint-Saëns. The first performance of this work was conducted by Saint-Saëns in London in 1886 in the long-since demolished St James’s Hall.
History has cast a complex light on Wagner’s music and on Wagner the man. But Tristan & Isolde (Wagner’s enormous vision of erotic love) is an opera that can still resonate today. Nietzsche referred to its “dangerous fascinations”, “spine-tingling and blissful infinity“ and “voluptuousness”. This was Grange Park Opera’s first foray into Wagnerian opera.
The songs of Des Knaben Wunderhorn ("The Youth’s Magic Horn") form the basis for so much of Mahler’s music that it pays to hear some of them alongside a symphony (in the case the well-known Fifth Symphony, in the latest of the Philharmonia/Maazel collaborations). The performances of six of the songs by Sarah Connolly and Matthias Goerne gave a clear idea of the emotional power that they contain.
“My Sixth seems to be yet another hard nut, one that our critics' feeble little teeth cannot crack”. It will “propound riddles the solution of which may be attempted only by a generation which has absorbed and truly digested my first five symphonies.”. So wrote Mahler in letters to the Dutch conductor Willem Mengelberg and the Austrian writer and musicologist Richard Specht respectively.
I sometimes wonder what it must have been like to have been at the first performance of today’s well-known master works. Bach’s St John Passion, for example, or Beethoven’s Eroica and Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring – and Mahler’s second symphony, the Resurrection.
The gentle sound of a kettle coming to the boil was the intriguing start to the UK premiere of Louis Andriessen’s work for singer, ensemble and film, Anaïs Nin. The peeling and eating of a banana gave rather more of a clue as to what was to come, in a concert that carried the warning “This concert contains explicit content and language and is recommended for ages 16 and over”.
In a musical tour around Great Britain, the dramatic focus was centred on Wales and Scotland, with James MacMillian’s Three Interludes from The Sacrifice: and The Confession of Isobel Gowdie opening and closing the Bournemouth Symphony Orchestra’s concert at the Basingstoke Anvil.
Curiously, for a country that has created so much music, Italy has struggled to produce a world class symphony orchestra to match those from Berlin, Vienna, London and America. Partly due to the influence of the current director of music at London’s Royal Opera House, Antonio Pappano, that has now changed.
Thus reads the dedication of Alban Berg’s Violin Concerto, written in 1935 to commemorate the short life of Manon, the 18-year old daughter of the famous architect Walter Gropius (founder of the Bauhaus) and Gustav Mahler’s widow, the complex socialite, Alma Mahler. The apparently enchanting Manon (described as “an angelic gazelle from heaven”) died after suddenly contracting polio.
Imagine the first meeting between two young lovers, a couple who will eventually marry. As they walk through a forest in the moonlight, the girl reveals to her new friend that she is pregnant by another man.
