Gertsamtkunstwerk

Don Giovanni

I attended this at Covent Garden on Thursday evening.

It was the same production that I saw fourteen months ago, and some of the cast was the same. I had sat in the Lower Slips back then (two performances, one on the Left and one on the Right). This time I was in the Amphitheatre proper, in that delightful seat where legroom is restricted by a box containing wiring or somesuch, and where a small portion of the front stage is cut off from view, but where, in my experience, the acoustics are as good, and generally better, than anywhere in the house.

I have to conclude that DG is never going to be my favourite opera. It certainly has its moments, and the story is such that one can debate motives, characters and so on. But it's just too bloody long. Two acts each of 90 minutes, and plenty of scope for cutting...not that I would advocate cutting, but there are so many longeurs. Often the story advances during the most dreary musical parts, and the best music does little too advance the plot. Although that isn't in itself a bad thing.

I have mixed feelings about the Zambello production that plays at Covent Garden. I definitely prefer the Calixto Beito production that has played at ENO (don't know whether they have ditched it). I don't like the sets: so often Zambello sets seem to dominate the stage, limiting the scope for action and rendering much of the singing to the front of the stage where there is a risk if it being park-and-bark. And yet, there is enough intelligent direction of the cast, many of whom are good on the acting side anyway, that there is never any danger of it being static and formulaic.

Although there is scope for criticism, most of the cast performed well overall. There have been criticisms of the fast tempi employed by Charles Mackerras (as he took to the podium, a voice behind me exclaimed 'he's eighty two!') ; having heard Ivor Bolton's funereal interpretation I would say, the faster the better, please. However, I did find that the orchestra drowned out the singers on far too many occasions, and there was never really any sense of intimacy from the pit, which I think there should be. Although the chorus does appear, much of the singing is solo or in various ensembles of the principals.

There were various 'gimmicks' which were entertaining. Noticeable was the end of Act 1 when Don Giovanni was escaping the mob angry at his seduction of Zerlina - Simon Keenlyside shimmied up the wall, assisted only by a knotted rope for hand-grip - the wall was nearly as high as the proscenium, so this was no mean feat. 'He's forty-eight!' said a voice behind me. I do like the bit where Donna Anna and Donna Elvira intent on revenge arrive on stage in breeches and with guns slung across their back, looking delightfully boyish and seriously homo-erotic (although I found the previous outing of Anna Netrebko and Ana Maria Martinez to be more exciting). At the start of Act II DG and Leporello swap clothes and Leporello mimes while DG sings, I thought Kyle Ketelsen did a wonderful display of mugging, mimicking stereotypical park-and-bark singers who act via semaphore.

And the penultimate scene, the grand finale, when DG is sucked down into the fires of hell is a tremendous coup de theatre which doesn't pale on repeat.

Singing-wise Kyle Ketelsen was outstanding. Most of the rest were generally good or better. I concluded that Simon Keenlyside is too light a baritone for my liking, I would prefer a more bass-baritone sound. And I found his portrayal surprisingly two-dimensional; I didn't get any insights into the character, which was disappointing. Of the women, Joyce DiDonato was probably the best , but I preferred Ana Maria Martinez last time around. Marina Poplavskaya impressed me in much the same way she had in Don Carlo:a gorgeous voice that seems a bit rough around the edges, and graceful and poised on stage, but not a great stage animal. But there is something about her that says 'star quality' in big lights. I was disappointed with Miah Persson, who, when I have heard her before has sounded gorgeous. Robert Gleadow was excellent as Masetto. He impressed me in several small roles as a Young Artist and I look forward to his future in major roles.  And I really don't know what to make of Robert Murray. I thought his Dalla sua pace was unremittingly awful, wayward of pitch and with really bad coloratura, but his Il mio tesoro was basically very good. And he had the most awful mullet-wig which did him no favours appearance-wise. Erik Halfvarson was more than adequate as Il Commendatore.

So, overall, a decent and basically enjoyable performance, but not one for the ages, and not one to give me any new insights into the work. The second cast takes over now, and while it doesn't lack attractive singers, I have no regrets at giving it a miss. One performance was hard enough work.

I took some indifferent photos at the curtain call which will appear in my Performance album in due course, but there are loads of proper professional ones from the production at Arena Pal

Next event is La Calisto on 1 October.

Die Zauberflöte

It's no surprise that I have reached the age of nearly forty without ever seeing Die Zauberflöte live. Don't be surprised if I wait until I am eighty before seeing it again.

The first act is long, the second act is even longer. Indeed the second act is as long as Wozzeck. I would far rather sit through Wozzeck. There are three reasons to like Die Zauberflöte. One of them is that some of the music is fabulous. Another is that David McVicar's production is rather fun. But, having seen a few on DVD, I suspect it's easy enough to make a fun production. I recently watched the Glyndebourne/Hockney production and it seemed familiar, perhaps I had watched it in my childhood. If so, it came very close to putting me off opera for life, which would have been quite regrettable at age 9.

The third good thing is Simon Keenlyside. Indeed it became for me an opera of two parts: those when Ickle Shirtless was on stage and those when he wasn't. Not that I'm saying the rest of the cast were bad, they weren't. Just that most of them lacked any stage presence or charisma. Steven Milling was excellent as Sarastro, I could tell. And Kishani Jayasinghe almost stole the show as Papagena.

But there are and were too many bad things about it. The story is total tosh and I simply don't care about the characters. I sort of like the utter bitchiness of the Queen of the Night, but I was disappointed by the delivery of that aria. A few weeks ago I spent an evening watching some fantastic deliveries on YouTube from Diana Damrau and Edita Gruberova, inter alia. I believe that our QotN makes a career singing tis role but she didn't live up to those illustrious divas.

The music is by Mozart, whose Figaro I adore, but I feel his Cosi and Don G could benefit from judicious editing, great though they are. I think Flute could do with even more editing. Indeed, I have a CD (one disc) of highlights. That's just about enough Flute.

All that masonic crap is utterly tedious. The misogyny is of its time, and shouldn't be censored, but does nothing to enamour me to the work. There are considerable longeurs when various singers are singing pretty, but I really don't care.

No production is so great it can rescue a dismal work, not even when the director is the great god David McVicar. Great arias are great arias, but can be enjoyed in isolation in the comfort of one's own home.

So that leaves me with Simon Keenlyside to savour. I have caught him in concert rep, and in a concert opera. I walked out in the interval of Pelleas because it was musically/production-wise ghastly, notwithstanding fab performances from Messrs Keenlyside and Finley and Frau Kirchschlager. I caught him when he was in poor vocal form in Iphigenie. So, finally, I get to appreciate the full glory of Simon Keenlyside. He was the difference between a bad night out and the salvaging of something very special to remember. His singing was flawless - when I say Ein Mädchen oder Weibchen sounded just like it does on his CD, Tales of Opera, trust me  that is praise. His portrayal of the character was entirely convincing,from his rather hunched walk, to his comic timing, and, naturally, his athleticism, including a sort of somersault across stage (tumbling is, I think, the technical term for it) and his flying leap to join Papagena in bed.

Still, he said in a recent interview that he's learning the role of Wozzeck. We know that Wozzeck is planned for a future season at ROH, so perhaps that will star Shirtless. If so, I very much look forward to that, much more than to a future performance of Zauberflöte.

There was a slight comedy moment at curtain call when Simon and Stephen realised they were next to each other and Stephen patted Simon on the head. Stephen is 200 cm (I asked his manager, who was sitting next to me at Die Walküre; she asked him, he told her, she told me) and I'm sure someone's said that Simon is about 5'6". So, that's quite a difference...

Oh, and just for the record, Simon's shirt stayed resolutely on, but his trousers did come down.

I also missed the live falcon. I'm a bit thick sometimes.

Don Giovanni

Not my favourite Mozart opera, even though 'the experts' claim it to be the greatest (they've obviously never heard Le Nozze di Figaro!).

It is a lovely work, but, relatively speaking, it has its longeurs.

Also, as I discovered as a result of two separate visits, it really can depend upon the conductor. The first time I attended it was conducted by Ivor Bolton. I might have been prejudiced by the reviews that I read previously ('not fit to conduct a bus') except that on the second hearing, I thought during the overture that it was much crisper and, generally, much better. I consulted my cast list and realised that the bloke with the baton was David Syrus. And even though I don't tend to notice - or at least can't really critique - the standards of conducting, I can definitely perceive a step-change in the performance of the orchestra and how the piece and the ensemble hang together.

I have already blogged my thoughts on the actual story of the opera. I do think that story-wise, it is in a small minority of non-Wagnerian operas with plots, story and characterisations that merit re-evaluation and discussion. I was struck by how the Don 's portrayal was slightly Aspergers/ADHD. A companion suggested that she found it difficult to believe that he would have just murdered the Commendatore. I think she was implying that he simply wasn't sufficiently evil, but I contend that it is a superb definition of amoral - a failure to understand the consequences of actions and how they impact others and, ultimately oneself. He killed the Commendatore because he got in the way. I read something recently about the spate of teenage gun/knife deaths and how these juvenile gang members simply do not understand that knives kill nor do they have any concept of the finality of death. And I felt the Don had that adolescent absence of empathy. Even his prolific shagging is not done with any thought as to whether it's right or wrong, it's just something he does.

I thought that in general the cast was excellent. Erwin Schrott as the eponymous hero was excellent. There is some debate about his method of delivering recitative. On the first occasion it was parlando, on the second less so. Unlike some others I don't think it detracts from his performance. I am certain it is a carefully considered interpretation. Vocally I could not fault him. I think he has a gorgeous voice and excellent musicianship,which are in themselves enough to make his performance a memorable Don. The fact that he also happens to be an excellent stage actor and somewhat aesthetically pleasing, too, is a bonus! Especially as his clothing gets less. In the scene when the stone statue of the Commendatore comes to life (except it doesn't in this production), he is dressed only in tight fitting crimson silk trousers, and insists on pouring wine down his chest and onto his trousers. which is just unnecessary, although perfectly pleasant to watch! And the very final shot is  a glimpse of him in hell, almost certainly wearing nothing at all, although holding a woman in a position sufficiently strategic to retain an element of doubt. Very unnecessary but perfectly agreeable. Whether that really is hell, I doubt, unless hell is about continuing one's earthly mistakes: a character like the Don may never find happiness, peace or self-awareness because of his insatiable libido.

Kyle Ketelsen was superb as Leporello, a fine singer, and managing to convey quite a complex contradictory character, clearly disapproving of the Don's performance, but whether from any moral grounds or merely because of the inconvenience and practical implications, it is difficult to say. I loved the way he delivered Madamina, il catalogo è questo was particularly impressive, making me conclude that it probably is the best - or equal best - number in the work.

Of the women I thought that Ana Maria Martinez was outstanding. I am still not entirely convinced that she is not a mezzo. What I am sure of is that she is a tremendous singer and a great comedy actress. I had not really previously thought of Donna Elvira as a comedy part, but Ana Maria played her convincingly so. I happen to think that Donna Elvira is the leading lady anyway, with far more interesting vocal bits and a fuller character, even though I often find her a bit pitiful - in this interpretation it was still a bit sad that she wanted Don Giovanni despite knowing about him what she did. But at least it was logical - as if she had calculated that his social status was worth marrying into, and in nay case he was better than being left on the shelf.

The peasant leads were played by Matthew Rose and Sarah Fox. I felt Matthew was under-parted, even though I really liked the way he played the not-very-bright character. I tend to agree with the critics who feel that Sarah was  a bit generic as Zerlina. That having been said, I do not think that she was helped on either occasion by the tempo in that very great duet La ci darem la mano which should have been much quicker. But it was obviously all about Don Giovanni, when it should have been partly about her.

Although Erwin Schrott was the lead role and clearly and unanimously the star of the piece, the star name was Anna Netrebko. She had missed the first couple of performances with a cold, and dropped out of the second half of my second performance, so I have to assume that she was cold-affected throughout the run, although I can't say I noticed. She was excellent, even though she obviously takes time to warm up. If you were judging solely on her first appearance, you wouldn't think much, but her big aria towards the end of Act I was a tour de force. Marina Poplavskaya was a splendid substitute in the second act of my second attendance. I would have liked to have heard her for an entire performance. She is clearly something special, and even though she is pretty wayward at the top of her range it doesn't seem to matter when the voice in general, the musicality, and the inhabiting the role are of such a high standard. I very much look forward to her Tatiana (Evgeny Onegin) and Elizabetta (Don Carlos) next season.

I had two different Commendatori; of the two Robert Lloyd was superb, and the other one wasn't.

I can't say I cared very much for the production. It did what it had to do, just about, but without anything particularly interesting. The set was a construction that dominated most of the stage, and for most of the time the singers were forced into a very small space at the front. There was nothing else in the way of set eg no furniture, abusable or otherwise. There was not much of excitement in the personenregie, I would dread to think how it would be if the cast were less instinctive actors. The final coup de theatre was fun,as the flames of hell rose up, but I don't think that one gimmick makes a production. I prefer Calixto Beito's English National Opera production by a degree of magnitude. One aspect that particularly annoyed me is what I refer to in my mind as the "Covent Garden Lower Orders Dance". It seems to me that the Royal Opera House Ladies Chorus, whenever they have to portray common people do so by a dance which involves holding their skirts. Just because it worked for "I'd Do Anything for You" in the film of Oliver! doesn't mean it has to be aped in every sodding opera. Stop it! Now!

There are lots of pictures at Playbill Arts and, of course at Arena Pal. My Stage Door Report

Marriage of Figaro @ ENO

I saw this on 6 February, but, for some reason, never published this.

Approached with some trepidation. My favourite opera - the first one I ever saw live. Performed by a second rate company (with all due respect to ENO, they are not a Grade A house). Coming a year and two days after the brilliant performance I saw at Covent Garden, seven months to the day after the excellent revival there. In English. And subject to mediocre reviews in the media.

Marriage of Figaro is a problematic opera for me. One of the greatest pieces of art, and certainly one of the greatest operas ever produced. And yet, not really a tenor vehicle. Except for Don Curzio who barely figures at all, and Don Basilio, who, when luxury-cast with someone like Philip Langridge as last year at ROH is a wonderful role, but is usually an entirely forgettable comprimario. So, really, an opera without tenors is barely an opera at all!

My favourite opera, and one which I have three times on audio-only and seven times on DVD/video. But I could barely tell you a brief synopsis, let alone sit there and say what's coming in the next ten or fifteen minutes. Not a note of music unfamiliar, to the extent that play me a bar or two and I'll sing the next few bars without hesitation, yet every time I hear it I hear something new in the music, some previously un-noticed embellishment from the orchestra or key change in the score.  The opera I would recommend in general to newbies and one that reveals something new with every new interpretation and subsequent re-listen.

Cast: The Count: Scott Hendricks
Figaro: Iain Paterson
Susanna: Sarah Tynan
The Countess: Susan Gritton
Cherubino: Stephanie Marshall
Dr Bartolo: Graeme Danby
Marcellina: Yvonne Howard
Barbarina: Claire Mitcher
Don Basilio: Alan Oke
Don Curzio: Christopher Gillett
Antonio: Nicholas Folwell
Conductor: André de Ridder
Director: Olivia Fuchs

The production has been described as 'Gosford Park', which I suppose it means it was set somewhere between the two World Wars.  It was fine, nothing that really stood out as being either inspired or a mistake. For the opening scene in Figaro/Susanna's bedroom, a box tactic is employed, but rather than a stage-within-a-stage, it is isolated by clever lighting. Much of the action takes place in front of a bell pull device like all the best houses have. To be honest, apart from the opening box, and the characteristic ENO device of a sideways-sliding set not being wheeled completely off the stage, I remember very little of the set. Which is not necessarily a criticism: simply that it does not compare to the wonderful set at ROH last year. Although I do especially recall the Countess's wardrobe, perhaps especially because Cherubino knocked over the clothes rail and spent most of her/his time reassembling it. I am not sure whether it was accidental or part of the production.

And, generally, the production was not as memorable as the fabulous McVicar production. But it was still good enough. My bottom line is personenregie. I do not like productions that leave the singers floundering or statically facing forward regardless of whether or not they are singing.

Orchestra and stick waving. I had read others report criticisms of some tempi, but I didn't find that a major problem specifically. However, the ensemble did fall apart in that great sextet - all that sua madre, sua padre - which I think must be fiendishly difficult to hold together. Also, I was disappointed in Non piu andrai by the lack of oomph, it seemed to lack that triumphant martial quality I think the number deserves. In general, I felt the conducting/playing was technically adequate but without memorable highlights.

All the other set pieces were at least adequate and in some cases better. Of the main characters I found the Count and Cherubino to be generic, which is not especially a criticism, but they could not compare with the splendid performers I have heard in these roles live and on record. Sarah Tynan was an attractive Susanna, and I thought Susan Gritton gorgeous as the Countess. If not up to the standard yet of some of the best I have heard, I think she could be soon.

For me the highlight was Iain Paterson.  As soon as the season was announced I knew that I had to see him in this role, and it was just lack of organisation that meant I didn't book a ticket for 6 February until 2 February. I love his voice, and I think he is wasted at ENO. He was Le Bret in Cyrano de Bergerac at Covent Garden and is due to be the First Nazarene in Salome. I hope he will soon be given more substantial roles there; in the meantime, he is a delight at ENO, although even his luxury-cast Schaunard is not sufficient to drag me to ENO for La Bohème, an opera I find dreary and requiring a superstar in at least one of Mimi and Rodolfo. And from where I was sitting in the balcony I felt that a reduction in weight by about a stone would be no bad thing. He reminds me a lot of former sort-of boyfriend of mine; I think that's a positive rather than a negative!

I could write reams about the  genius that is demonstrated by Mozart's music. I could wax lyrical about Da Ponte's superb libretto. I could talk about the narrative and dramaturgy that I assume is Beaumarchais. I could also examine the subversive revolutionary element. But I won't. Just yet. Just say that I enjoyed a lovely evening's entertainment.

Don Giovanni

Ages ago, I decided that I would blog my entire record collection before I'm forty. This includes operas, whether audio only or video presentations.

And I got into a bad situation that I couldn't motivate myself to capture the words to describe one of the greatest operas ever written, Don Giovanni, the 'D' of the ABCD of opera.

I have two versions on DVD or video; I saw the 'notorious' Calixto Bieito version at ENO some time ago and I have booked to see the Royal Opera House production twice next summer.

One of the versions was shown on TV a couple of years back - a Peter Brook production from Aix en Provence: the Mahler Chamber orchestra  conducted by  Daniel Harding. When I watched it, I made the following notes:

Not especially starry cast.

Don Ottavio sang a gorgeous Sulla Pace and Il mio tesoro; La ci darem was nice enough. DG is easy on the eye not so easy on the voice. Nice modern dress and minimalist sets. Not especially gripping dramatically.

I did like Donna Elvira

Pleasant and enjoyable to watch once. Not sure I would again.

DG Peter Mattei
Leporello Gilles Cachemaille
Masetto Nathan Berg
Don Ottavio Mark Padmore
Donna Anna Alexandra Deshorties
Zerlina Lisa Larsson
Donna Elvira Mireille Delunsch
Il commendatore Gudjon Oskarsson

At which point, I think: Ah! Don Ottavio, gorgeous voice, Don Ottavio Mark Padmore. Of late I have almost become a big fan of Mark Padmore, albeit with reservations, so it's good to know that there is some consistency in my feelings.

The other version I have is a Zurich Opera Production under the baton of Nikolaus Harnoncourt, and a strong cast led by Rod Gilfrey.

Mozart Prom

Not much of a clue, I have to admit. There has been rather a lot of them. And, to be honest, six minutes into the one I am going to review I had already drafted my blog post "I'm just about Mozarted-out for 2006. Call me again in ten years or whatever..."

And I have to say Sunday's Prom was not exactly designed to make one like Mozart.

Mozart, reconstr. Philippe A. Autexier: Meistermusik, for men's chorus and orchestra, (original version of Masonic Funeral Music, K477)
Mozart: Symphony No. 39 in E-flat major, K543

Mozart, compl. Sussmayr: Requiem in D minor, K626

The main problem was the orchestra. And the choir. And I suppose, the conductor. But the choice of repertoire was not exactly inspired. The Meistermusik was boring. I am not a great fan of most of Mozart's symphonies and I can't say this one did anything for me.

The problem was an intimate Period Ensemble in the Albert Hall. I'm sure they would have been lovely in a smaller more intimate venue like the Barbican or the Festival Hall...But they were shite in the Albert Hall. Oh, all the right notes, basically in the right places and most of them on pitch. But no passion.

After the interval was Mozza's Requiem. This is not his best mass by a long shot. The C major (Coronation) is exponentially better. In my opinion, which, on this blog is all that matters, anyway...And it was not a great performance.

For some bizarre reason I have three versions of this in my collection, and two on my mp3player. I think I first really came across it in the film, Amadeus, and it's often used in documentaries of his life. There's a sense of doom running through it, especially noticeable in the introduction. But that just failed to come through, a lack of boom. boom. boom. coming from the bass, instrumental or choral. In fact a general lack of vim and a lingering aura of inertia. Jimmy didn't like it. "Requiem, bloody depressing. I don't got to Church on Sundays to sing bloody hymns. Is this supposed to be a night out?"

But the soloists were the salvation. Ingeborg Danz (ms) and Alfred Reiter (bs) were okay, and Carolyn Sampson and Mark Padmore were gorgeous. Really gorgeous.

Now, let me look at the professional reviews...

Telegraph

On Sunday night, Philippe Herreweghe, conducting the Collegium Vocale Gent and the Orchestre des Champs-Élysées, proved to be the right man at the right moment. Mozart's Symphony No 39 had impetus, clarity and healthy rhythms. And then with a front-rank quartet of soloists in Carolyn Sampson, Ingeborg Danz, Mark Padmore and Alfred Reiter, the performance of Mozart's Requiem was lean in terms of articulation but well-fed with spirituality and humanity.

Sort of what I said, really.

And the Times, kind of quite different from what I said, but I think we agree, broadly.

The Independent

The Requiem came over as reverential but not urgent. Symphony 39 bounced along nicely but a reconstruction of Mozart's anguished Masonic Funeral Music using men's voices in the plainchant, was a damp squib.

And I'm not out of kilter with Simon writing in omh, whom I'd chatted to before the concert.

So, after all, I'm not going mad and suffering from overMozart.

Most of my 2006 Promming has been done from the sofa or computer chair and I have been trying to catch most things if I'm in. It was quite a little Mozart feat this week. Tuesday's was all nice and pleasant but did rather serve to confirm my view that one can have too much of the boy Mozza, or indeed the man Mozza. It's all these symphonies. The thing is, they're all very nice, but after a while, the niceness has one yearning for a bit of Beethoven or Wagner mood and gloom, dark psychotic forces at work.

Or maybe some jazz-type stuff. Now, I don't like jazz, but this was televised on Wednesday night and I remembered my vow that I would try and catch as much as possible. Charlie Hazlewood conducting and presenting for TV. Is there no end to his talents?

I love that Ibert Divertissement, one of the best pieces that has been in the Proms all season. So far. I would have sworn that I knew neither the composer nor the music but once the band started playing it was very familiar. Hmm.  The Weill and the Gershwin were lovely, and would probably appear on my compilation "Now That's What I Call Crossover" but I'm afraid the obligatory 'new' piece was a load of wank and toss, like just about every 'new' piece I have heard this year (Magnus Lindbergh aside). I'm sorry, maybe I'm getting old, but it's just NOISE. Sort of makes me yearn for 21st Century pop music.

By Thursday night I was feeling a lot more disposed towards Mozart. the Andante from Piano Concerto 21 had enticed me on my mp3 player as I sat on the train and Soave sia il vento had wooed me as I walked through Sheffield City Centre. So I was more up for 23 piano by the evening, especially as it was accompanied by a rather splendidly large Symphony Orchestra that also played the large Bruckner.

So by this evening I didn't know what to think.

The Mozart 25 was very nice, very lively, taken at a spanking pace. Great piece of music? No, I don't think so, when you consider how many Mozart works are better. A lot of people wrote better symphonies. But I do like it. Not a contendah for Gert's Top 100, though.

Hanspeter Kyburz's Noesis was undoubtedly the worst piece of amusical pretentious rubbish I have heard in the Proms all season, up against some pretty stiff competition. I have decided that the idea of violins and cellos being made to sound like saws is not music, it's sound effects and doesn't belong on a concert platform. I'm going to buy Jimmy some wax crayons and he's going to scribble meaninglessly on the back of a cereal packet and enter it for the BBC4 Proms art competition, saying it was inspired by Noesis.

The Debussy was boring, but I expected that of Debussy.

So it was a relief when Mozart 40 came on and was taken at a spanking rattle. First movement 'made famous by ringtones the world over'. Second movement, quite possibly one of the very greatest orchestral movements ever written. Oh god yes, I've just remembered, Mozart was an utter fucking genius. Thank you, Sir Simon,  for reminding me of this fact I shouldn't have forgotten. I should of course have read my own blogpost from when I heard it in January. Maybe I should have studied the programme notes, been prepared. but what a glorious beautiful surprise to have that gorgeous music floating away from the TV and into my soul.

Just over a week to go. Sunday is Beethoven 9. Don't know any of the soloists, not that that necessarily matters. It's Beethoven's 9th. Then Monday is Beethoven 5 and Tchaik 5. Both on BBC4. Some massive orchestral forces at work all week, and we have a final Mozart-orgy on Friday with another of his excellent symphonies, and his fantastic C minor Mass, finishing with an unusually attractive Last Night, with a heavy Russian theme. I think we can all safely say we are greatly looking forward to the Mr Haughty-Russkie letting his magnificent hair down for Land of Hope and Glory and Auld Lang Syne. I hope he won't glare when people let off the dissonant party horns.

When was the last time we had a tenor at the Last Night? I think we're about due to have a tenor next year.

Le nozze di Figaro

I went to a performance of this at the Royal Opera House on Thursday evening. I thoroughly enjoyed it, perhaps more than I enjoyed my previous attendance in February, even though objectively the cast was marginally better in February.

On the way there I was a bit stressed out. I had a standing ticket, in the balcony, and I was a bit anxious as to whether I would be able to tolerate standing for the entirety of a fairly lengthy opera. But I got extremely lucky, in that the seat next to my standing place was still empty when the house lights went down, so I snagged it. Ironically, the view from my original standing place was probably less obscured than the seat in which I ended up, especially considering that the man in front of me was of above average height and seemed to have a rather large head.

The worst aspect of the evening was some of my immediate neighbours in the audience, who were clearly tourists, and gave a distinct impression of having not the slightest idea about what they were they were seeing, and, more to the point, a noticeable absence of self-awareness and awareness of how to behave in public. The chortling at every surtitle was mildly irritating; the talking during the quiet bits was boorish and solipsistic.

But the worst aspect was minutes from the end, the surtitle screen displayed, "Countess, forgive me..." and they all rolled around laughing as it was the funniest line ever written. This just proved their collective utter pre-ignorance of the opera (which, in itself, is highly forgivable) but it seems strange to me that anybody could have sat through the previous three hours and find the Count's begging for forgiveness to be funny. I could describe it many ways, but it would never occur to me to laugh. But the thing is, this is one of the most sublime  moments in the Western musical canon, achingly beautiful music made more achingly beautiful by the context of everything that has gone before. So there was quite a lot of irate shushing from music lovers. Yahoo Group members can hear the finale here; non-members can apply for membership here (this is a formality; it's just a means to try and avoid spam). This is from the Jacobs' set

I did not make the mistake of 'studying' the opera beforehand. As it is my favourite opera*, I know it better than just about any other. I have so many different versions on vinyl, cassette, video, CD, and DVD there is no 'definite' version in my head. This means that as long as it is performed competently, it would be difficult not to enjoy it.

I have now seen the production 'live' twice with largely different casts, and have seen the televising about three times, and I have to conclude that it is brilliant; a production that good deserves to stay in the rep until I've got my Bus Pass and be performed nearly every year.

It's invidious to compare one cast with another, but with it being just about five months since I saw the first cast, it's difficult not to make comparisons. But I want to stress that neither cast contained a weak link, and contained no one I wouldn't wish to see again in the roles that they played.  As Figaro, Kyle Ketelsen was good but not great. Fine voice good acting, and well deserving of enthusiastic applause. But his performance only served to illustrate just how fine a performance Erwin Schrott had given in February. I'm afraid Kyle was lacking in the areas where Erwin's strengths shone through - beauty of voice, stage presence and sheer sexy charisma. I was chatting with someone in the interval who shared this view and nearly went into palpitations when I mentioned that Erwin will be Don Giovanni next season. Soile Isokoski was outstanding as the Countess, a rich and gorgeous voice. I had enjoyed Dorothea Roschmann in this part in February but had found her voice a bit patchy. I loved Soile's voice and would love to hear her more, but she doesn't appear in London very often.

I thought Sophie Kochs was a bit too feminine for Cherubino, slightly preferring Rinat Shaham's portrayal, but slightly preferring Sophie Kochs' voice. So, a score draw there. I preferred Miah Persson's February Susanna, finding Isabel Bayrakdarian's voice to be uneven and her stage presence less.  But I wouldn't hesitate to see her again.

We had a couple of long-term favourites, Robert Lloyd and Diana Montague as Bartolo and Marcellina, and although it was a shame we had lost the splendid Philip Langridge as Don Basilio, John Graham-Hall was good enough in the part. I can't say I was sorry that the Final Act lost the arias for Marcellina and Don Basilio. bloke waving stick was David Syrus. A few people commented that the orchestra lacked 'oomph' and I'm not inclined to argue,  but it was far from lacklustre.

The Count was played splendidly by Gerald Finley. Every time I see him I adore him more. I love his voice, which I find to be nearly perfect, full of understated nuanced expressionism and, at times, sheer beauty. But I also think he is a formidable actor, and I think I have said before that his portrayal of the Count is a performance that Timothy West would be proud of.  You feel like saying "Have you ever had one of those days?", and as he stalks around getting more frustrated, confused and impotent you wonder why Mozart didn't write a Mad Scene (except that a mad scene would be OTT).  Those of you who know the production will know the part in Act II when he flings the axe across the Countess's bedroom. In a spectacular piece of furniture abuse, his axe, flying frighteningly across half the width of the stage hit a dressmaker's dummy sending it crashing to the floor. I did wonder what would happen when Figaro and Antonio attempted to enter through the bedroom door, but, of course, the servants were all eaves-dropping, and had heard it fall, so one had the sense to pick it up before mirth and woe  ensued. I asked him afterwards whether that was intended, and he admitted that it wasn't - he was just trying to make the Count seem angry. Gerald, trust me, the count seemed angry.

I love Marriage of Figaro so much. As I'm enjoying one section of music I'm tingling with excitement at the prospect of the next aria, duet or ensemble that's coming. I was thinking of highlighting my favourite moment, but I realised that it would be a list. So, instead I will single out Soile Isokoski's singing of the ineffably beautiful Porgi amor, and the very last minute when the entire cast is singing at the front of the stage, wishing us joy and peace, and the auditorium lamps come alight. I could see the goose-pimples on my arms.

I did have a thing going of reviewing all operas I own in alphabetical order, but it seems to have fallen into abeyance. I really need to revive this. If I do one a week, I ought to get to Figaro in October. Perhaps with the World Cup (almost) over and a downturn in live performances, I might make more of an effort.

* people often ask why a tenor nut has Figaro as her favourite opera, and it is a delightful paradox which I don't wish to over-analyse except that perhaps I am saved from waiting with excited but fraught anticipation for the show-stopping tenor showpiece arias...

Mozart Marketing Rip Off

Nephew #2 look away...now

Baby Mozart. You've seen it advertised.  You've heard a track from it introduced on Classic FM as "Also suitable for adults..."

Before the infamous Baritone Stalking Night the other week, SOSSLED had a meet-up in the Royal Opera House shop, where mayhem was caused. Among the objects of derision were CDs that varied on the theme of Baby Mozart. We mocked, we derided.

Your intrepid blogger found herself in HMV today and discovered that the Best Mozart Album in the World contains just about all the tracks that Classic FM's Baby Mozart does, and in total has 45% more tracks, at 40% of the price. All those poor kids being given Baby Mozart will have to get rid of their CD packaging before they start school, let alone University. Meanwhile the child with the aunt who hates marketing exploitation can keep his until CDs are completely obsolete.

How utterly cynical are these marketing companies. And how suckerish are the people buying them.

You can also get Mozart for Mums. I was not sure whether Mum is supposed to play this when she is:

a) being tender with child(ren)
b) chauffering child(ren) to myriad activities including School Run
c) desperately trying to cook and clean in between said activities
d) supervising homework and reprimanding child(ren)
e) holding down a responsible job
f) collapsing wih the gin bottle at the end of the day
g) being her own person and appreciating music for its own sake

Or, indeed, whether it's also suitable for Mums of grown-ups.

A load of Mums are going to get this for Mother's Day when, secretly, they'll be thinking, I actually wanted the Horn Concertos. Or Arctic Monkeys.

Another Figaro review

I never realised that Socialist Worker did reviews of operas. Well, not from the Royal Opera House, anyway

...Mozart’s most overtly political opera...The struggle against aristocratic privilege it depicts clearly foreshadows the great French revolution of 1789.

The opera is filled with a sense of indignation against class rule and it expresses the 18th century Enlightenment’s optimism – the possibility of progress and a new, more just society.

Although there is an occasional commenter here whose partner has suggested selling copies of Socialist Worker in the Vilar Floral Hall.

What the papers say...

...about Le Nozze di Figaro

The Guardian

Compelling: Miah Persson as Susanna and Gerald Finley as Count Almaviva in Le Nozze di Figaro, ROH, London. Photograph: Tristram Kenton

Musically the evening is remarkable. Röschmann is exceptional in giving voice to the Countess's despair. Finley is the most dangerous of Counts, Persson a sensual, feisty Susanna. Schrott, meanwhile, handsome of presence and gorgeous of tone, is a star in the making. Antonio Pappano's conducting is full of wit and emotional depth. A flawed but compelling evening.

The Times

Gerald Finley’s terrific Count is like a cornered dinosaur who senses the impending Ice Age but can do nothing except seethe impotently. Yet how magnificently he does seethe! I have rarely seen a Count who radiates so much pent-up anger, frustration and, at one truly shocking moment, physical brutality.

The Observer

McVicar is blessed with a multi-talented cast who can mostly act as well as they can sing, primarily Uruguayan baritone Erwin Schrott's feisty Figaro.. Swedish soprano Miah Persson complements him beautifully, a Susanna as comely and sassy as pure of voice and sweet of tone, stilling an awed house with her sublime 'Deh, vieni'.

Gerald Finley's nobly sung Count is less physically imposing than usual, lending stronger emphasis to the dark, scheming side of his shameless nature, angry and self-righteous enough to administer a shocking slap across the face to his long-suffering wife, superbly sung by the stately, if sometimes statuesque Dorothea Roschmann... Israeli mezzo Rinat Shaham makes a charmingly gamine Cherubino, perkily popping up in all the wrong places at the wrong times. The supporting cast could scarcely be stronger; Philip Langridge, Jonathan Veira and Graciela Araya all make the most of their chances as Basilio, Bartolo and Marcellina.

Bloomberg

Erwin Schrott (Figaro) has a thrilling, resonant voice, and Miah Persson (Susanna) floats her final aria ``Deh vieni, non tardar'' with exquisite beauty. They're both also talented and lively actors...Gerald Finley is vocally and theatrically outstanding as Almaviva, and gives a fierce center to the character's pride and arrogance. Young mezzo Rinat Shaham makes a memorable debut as the hormonally charged pageboy Cherubino. Her drunken turn in Act Four is a delight, and her deliberately awkward performance of ``Voi che sapete'' is charming.

Dorothea Roschmann occasionally struggles with the difficult, long phrases of Countess Almaviva, yet Antonio Pappano's conducting is so fresh and plastic you can almost touch it.

Music OMH

Le nozze di Figaro (Photo: Bill Cooper)

The role of Count Almaviva was surely made for Gerald Finley. His rendition of the Act 3 aria brought the house down, strongly projected and delivered with an aristocratic authority. His long-suffering wife was sung by Dorothea Röschmann. Everything she sang was deeply felt, but for me the easy legato that is so essential in this music was lacking in her upper register; these factors made Dove sono moving but slightly unconvincing.

Erwin Schrott was a superb Figaro, a real lyric baritone with a feel for the humour and the heart of this character. ROH debutant Miah Persson stunned as Susanna, producing spine-tingling half-tones in Deh vieni, non tardar. She carried off her character's stage-managing the events of the whole opera, and had a beautiful, if small voice, and a nice ringing tone.

Rinat Shaham took a while to warm up as Cherubino, but was cheeky and charming; Graciela Araya a witty Marcellina; and Philip Langridge was luxury casting as Don Basilio. Barbarina was the lovely Young Artist, Ana James, making a strong impression at the start of Act 4.

The Telegraph

The cast is strong: Erwin Schrott is a handsome dog of a Figaro, less of an oaf than usual and firmly sung. His Susanna is the pitch-perfect Miah Persson, radiating determination and competence until a dreamily beautiful "Deh vieni non tardar" shows another side of her personality.

As the Countess, that fine musician Dorothea Röschmann starts awkwardly with a nervous "Porgi amor", but hits vocal form in the evening's second half with a richly eloquent "Dove sono". Rinat Shaham is an ebullient Cherubino, and Jonathan Veira (Bartolo), Graciela Araya (Marcellina) and Philip Langridge (Basilio) make a splendidly Dickensian trio of conspirators.

The finest element of the evening, however, is Gerald Finley's dashingly self-absorbed Count, sung with a technical focus, sensitive musicality and crisp enunciation that disarms criticism. What a great operatic artist he has become.

The Independent

Dorothea Roschmann's extraordinarily intense account of "Dove sono" was genuinely a moment of self-revelation. The deployment of aching embellishments in the da capo was for once neither cosmetic, nor musicological, but entirely dramatic. Earlier in the same scene we witnessed the Count - the superb Gerald Finley on blistering form...

...At the centre of things Erwin Schrott's charismatic Figaro is as cocky, confident and showy with his big notes as you could wish...

Miah Persson's deliciously pretty Susanna certainly provided that. Her final-act romance, ravishingly sung, truly revealed the tender-hearted young woman beneath the feisty exterior... As for the randy Cherubino, Rinat Shaham  has him panting at the bit from her breathless "Non so piu" onwards. Again, a wonderfully complete performance. You can almost hear the hormones raging.

New York Times

Bill Cooper
Figaro (Erwin Schrott) with his Susanna (Miah Persson) in David McVicar's "Marriage of Figaro" in London.

Playbill Arts

Gerald Finley as Count Almaviva and Miah Persson as Susanna

Bill Cooper

Le Nozze di Figaro

Which I went to see at the Royal Opera House yesterday afternoon - the corporate page is here, with details of cast, future performances and so on. It will be broadcast on BBC2 on 25th February.

It is my favourite opera of all, and has only gone up in my estimation as a result of this performance. Although it and the play it was based on were written in the 1780s, it was updated to the 1820s, and I know that because it said so in the newspapers. I didn't read the programme notes beforehand (except for looking at the pictures) and as I'm not an expert in the subtle differences in interior and clothing design, I would not have known, nor cared. And I don't think it made one iota of difference.

Overall, I thought that the orchestral playing, the singing, the character depiction, the sets and the production were separately and together, first rate. My main criticism would be the interpolation of Bach's Toccata and a loud "hello" into the beginning of Voi che sapete. People who not only let their mobiles ring, but answer them "I'm in the opera" should be forcibly ejected from the auditorium and barred for a year. A second offence would involve stocks and pillories. When practically the entire amphitheatre is saying "shush", there is, in my view,an argument for restarting the intro to the aria.

One of my reasons for liking it is that however many times I see or hear it, I find something new in the story or music or both. However good the principals were, and they were, one of the best touches was the servants listening in at the door to all the intrigues.

Many parts of it were very funny, especially the almost farcical quality of the two scenes where Cherubino is hiding first in Susanna's bedroom, and then in the Countess's bedroom. And the Final Act, in the garden, when it seems that half the cast are running around trying to hide from each other. There were excellent bits all the way through; of course, the director must get a large part of credit for this, but there would be little point in planning clever moves without intelligent acting-singers to act them out.

The cast was of a very high standard. As soon as the ROH announced the new season last Spring, and I saw Nozze di Figaro, my heart beat a little faster, and when I saw "Gerald Finley" as the Count it beat even faster (and I've become an even bigger fan of his since last Spring!). I hadn't heard any of the rest of the principals, and, in some cases, hadn't even heard of them. And then when smaller parts are taken by the likes of Philip Langridge, who is, presumably winding down his career in style, you know that's luxury casting...!

I thought Gerald Finley was marvellous; everytime I see him I like him even more. He has a gorgeous voice, and a wonderful stage presence. He played the Count as one could imagine Timothy West playing him, and was very funny. Quite frighteningly physical at times.

Miah Persson was outstanding as Susanna and she with the lovely Erwin Schrott as Figaro had me convinced that they were a couple in love, which doesn't always come across in every production. I had read that Erwin took the recitative secco as spoken narrative, and, I have to say, reading about it, I was not sure. And indeed, in the first excerpt, I was still not sure. But then I began to realise, it really worked. And Erwin is most definitely a voice I would like to hear again, with an excellent stage presence (the internet says he's due to play Don Giovanni at Covent Garden in the future).

I thought Dorothea Röschmann was good as the Countess, although I will say that I am not a great soprano fan and there were some parts of her voice, especially up at the top that were not especially to my liking. I think Rinat Shaham was a fine Cherubino.

I'm trying to work out which was my favourite bit musically. There are so many great arias, duets, and ensemble pieces, it's impossible to single one out. And then, when you think you've had just too much in the way of beautiful singing, there comes these amazingly gorgeous strains from the orchestra.

Perhaps I will go along with Rob's comment to Anna, about the last couple of minutes, as the Count seeks the Countess's pardon, and the story ends happily*, with all singing and the house lights rising to include the audience in the general happiness.

One man on the end of myrow rose to leave as that final bit began. I cannot for the life of me begin to understand why anybody would do that. Yes, he was infirm and walking with a stick, but I could never contemplate leaving just before the grand final. Sure, leave as soon as the final note sounds. Jimmy commented "Remind me never to get old" (I said if he was serious, it could be arranged...)

Overall an excellent performance of a beautiful opera. It's my first opera of the year but I'm already thinking that it will be a contender for my Top 10 of 2006. If it doesn't make the final cut, it will be because 2006 will have turned out to be an amazingly good year...!

Oh, and it's on BBC2 on 25 February.

* although in Part 3 of the trilogy, the Countess ends up having a child outside of wedlock with Cherubino.

Le Nozze di Figaro

A really fabulous afternoon at Covent Garden.  Couldn't fault it. Well, I could nitpick, but that would be nitpicking.

Really amazingly fabulous music. Excellent cast. Very very good production.

And should I  mention the kisses I got at the Stage Door?

Shameless, me. Shameless. And, a year ago, I would have said I don't do baritones...

Just as Jimmy and I were walking past the Stage Door, he said he would go to the pub if I wanted to hang around in the  lobby to Backstage. Just as I got there, Erwin Schrott was leaving, so nervously I approached him, and explained that I  knew Giorgia in Italy who had asked me to give him a hug on her behalf. He seemed excited and pleased that I was a friend of Giorgia's, mentioning he had got a text from her this morning,  so I explained that she blogs, and I blog. So we had a hug and he kissed me on both cheeks. I said that Figaro is my favourite opera, so my expectations were high, and they were met, I really enjoyed it. So he hugged me again, and I got another kiss on each cheek. I don't do autograph-collecting, besides Jimmy had taken my programme off to the pub, and because I had inadequate preparation, I didn't even get a photo.

He departed, and I hung around for a while chatting with the dozen or so autograph seekers. I was wondering how much longer I should wait around, or whether I should join Jimmy in the pub, when Gerald Finley emerged (be still my beating heart...!). I waited while various people got his autograph, then I took a photo, and then I said,

"Erwin's given me a kiss for a mutual friend, so I was wondering if I could have one from you for me." There was laughter around me and someone said "I'll have to remember that tactic...". Gerald obliged. Oh my! I shall say no more on the matter on the internet, but I shan't forget that in a hurry...

I will do a more considered, and less girly-groupie, review tomorrow...

Marriage of Figaro Reviews

David McVicar Plays Safe in `Marriage of Figaro' at Royal Opera via Cherubino's husband

The Guardian - Four stars "A flawed but compelling evening"

The Times Four stars  "Few of the trillion Mozart celebrations this year will match David McVicar’s new Royal Opera staging of Figaro for insight or passion. It isn’t a perfect show."

I'm not actually reading the reviews until after I go on Saturday...

Nozze di Figaro

Interview with David McVicar. Definitely worth a read. And I am so looking forward to Figaro. I'm seeing it Saturday. And twice in July.

Mozart by numbers

I knew I had a ticket to a concert tonight; looking at the ticket, and what it was advertising, I realise I must have bought it  in about July.

At work I checked on the South Bank website and groaned. Mozart, Mozart and Mozart. I am just about out-Mozarted. I looked at what CDs I had with me: three Mozarts, and an Arias compilation. I think I'll listen to the arias compilation. "Il mio tesoro..." No! Not more bloody Mozart, not when I'm not expecting it. But by La ci darem la mano, I'm thinking, I do like Mozart.

I wasn't really sure what the programme was. Just things with numbers. A Rondo,  a Piano concerto, and a Symphony. I think I guessed which Symphony it was. a clue on the website about it being the one - along with Beethoven's Fifth - with the most familiar opening. "Ringtone!" I exclaim, being such a post-modernist Twenty First Century girl.

It was the Philharmonia, with Mikhail Pletnev directing from the piano. In the first half, anyway - he conducted the Symphony from the Podium.

All the pieces were familiar to me, the piano concerto and symphony extremely so, the Rondo more so than most pieces of non-vocal music by most composers.

Listening to the Rondo for piano and orchestra in D, K382 and Piano Concerto No 20 in D minor, I couldn't help thinking, this is nice music, pleasant little melody, but perhaps it's about time I got over Mozart and graduated onto more grown-up music. Perhaps those nay-saying experts are right. It's easy-listening salon music, nothing profound. As far as I could tell, the pieces were executed perfectly, technically speaking, and although the music drew me into concentration and contemplation, assisted by a wonderfully well-behaved audience, I didn't feel moved emotionally in any way.

Second half, Symphony No 40 in G minor K550. Come on, you know the one. The one that's on Ringtones. Hooked on Classics, hit the charts in '82. Dededuh dededuh dededuhdurr,  Dededuh dededuh dededuhdurr, Dededuh dededuh dededuhdurr,  dededuh duh duh Dur Dur...Clichéd and trite, I quickly concluded. I'm well Mozarted out, am I really looking forward to Le Nozze di Figaro on Saturday?*

And then something happened to me. I heard this extraordinarily familiar extraordinary piece of music in a way I have never heard it before. I had never previously noticed that it is not scored for timpani - and you'd think I'd notice something like that. But it doesn't need timpani, because of the way it's written, with low strings providing the backbone that any decent symphony needs.

Then I noticed some extraordinary things happening in the woodwind. I am not a great fan of the flute, and for two dozen years I have clung to the belief that Mozart didn't like the flute (except of the Zauber variety, of course). I read it in a book in the school library, and when you're fourteen and you've worked your way through a text book, you know everything in it is true. Even if does annoy the hell out of the flautists you know. And I knew a lot -  "Influenced by James Galway and Atarah Ben-Tobin", that generation.

I have always adored Wolfie's clarinet writing, even though I don't like the clarinet as an instrument as much as I love the oboe and, especially, the cor anglais. But I have never really thought of this as a clarinet piece, certainly not in the same way as I think of the Clarinet Quintet and Concerto, and Cosi fan Tutte.  But something very special was happening in the Philharmonic woodwind section this evening. Kudos to Paul Edmund-Davies, Principal Flautist, and my star of the evening. That was one Zauber Flote! What an amazing dialogue with the strings.

I was thinking that the strings were not at their best (or was this the acoustics of the Queen Elizabeth Hall, a venue I'm not overly familiar with?), sounding a bit like a vinyl record with fluff on it. And then they did something. It suddenly struck me, in Wagner's Tristan und Isolde there's a passage of manic violins that, surely,was directly influenced by the fiddles in this.

Overall, probably a 6/10 evening. I'm glad I went, but I might have looked back on it a bit dismally if it wasn't for the beauty of the woodwind and especially the flute. I know that when I listen to Mozart's Symphony No 40 in future, I shall do so with a more profound understanding of the music. Especially the gorgeous second movement.

Can I just say to the woman behind me, you seemed like a very nice person, so I desisted from saying anything, but please, dear, next time, a bit less perfume. I am not especially sensitive to perfume, but I did find that it was irritating my throat and nearly made me sneeze. I don't mind really, but if I had sneezed it may have ruined the music for other  people. And, I'm afraid I would have had to explain that it was your perfume.  I did check discretely with the man next to me. He used the word 'pungent'.

*Silly question, of course I am...

Happy Mozart Day

This entry is a bit of  a link log:

and a sticky post

09:04 Currently playing on the Gert Cottage CD player:

Austria celebrates Mozart at 250

You The Critic:Mozart

VOTE: Your favourite Mozart piece

Mozart: the singers' perspective - Gerald Finley and Philip Langridge tell us, in their own words, what sets Mozart apart from other composers.

UK TV highlights:

BBC4 Mozart 250 at 1900-2000; and 2300 - 0400

Artsworld has various Mozart from 1900-2220 and Performance is 'launching the first of a series of own-brand productions with a documentary exploring the musical secrets that underpinned the genius of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.' Blimey...

Google has noticed

Mozart, bravissimo!

A little on the younger son, Franz Xaver Mozart (neither of Wolfie's surviving sons had children)

Damn, to think that we satisfied ourselves a couple of years ago  that Mozart never had a blog. Turns out he does. Seems to be struggling a bit with bandwidth at the moment.

Why Radio 3 isn't scheduling Mozart (or any excuse for the Murdochian Empire to attack the BBC)

Even the Mirror has a Mozart story

The Official Mozart2006 blog - in German

And Nannerl's blogging, too

A monk blogs on Mozart

Mozart, our birthday gift

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Hacker...well, put that way...

It's Mozart's 250th Birth Anniversary!

Mozart's Mother

Mozart Day

Mozart dot com

Mozart's Paris Connection

11.30: Currently listening to:  Buy it, it's ace. Not yet available on Amazon, I read somewhere that the offical release day is 30 January. But that would be silly, because today is Mozart Day. And I got it through my letter box on Wednesday. Read my review of the connected concert

Happy Birthday to Johann Chrysostom Wolfgang Theophilus Mozart, with mp3s

The US-based National Public Radio has a Mozart special

Mozart Day

A Primer on Getting to Know Mozart

Wikipedia, with mp3s

Nicholas Kenyon's Must Have Mozart

The Classical Station seems to be playing Mozart all day.

The Mozart Project

Mozart: whatevs?

Various Mozart posts

The Wellsungs have some nice mp3s

And then there's the UKblogging Marriage of Figaro debate

Then I played Exsultate Jubilate again

14:22 now playing - although I have an earlier slightly different edition of this one...Someone once phoned me up and, hearing this, apologised for getting me out of the bath. Funnily enough, I had got out of the bath just before she had phoned. And she didn't even know me - councillor's casework...!

1700: Now playing a CD of Symphonies 29 and 40. On a CD which is obviously  a poor relation of Naxos; but damn fine interpretations by the Camerata Academica Salzburg under Bernhard Paumgartner. Oh, Salzburg....

Toujours Mozart

And absolutely nothing to do with Mozart, but today is also the 105th anniversary of Verdi's death

 

Play that magic flute, babe...

Quiz: Is this Mozart or not?

I don't how many of you remember "NameThat Tune". I always was and always will be utter rubbish at it, because there are few tunes that I can name out of context. And quickly. I may well be able to sing the next umpteen bars. But name the tune? Not on your nelly

But this just gives you a multi-choice quiz as to who composed it. Sadly, no bonus points for speed of response. I got 10/10. But I'm ace like that *

This week is Mozart week in Gert Cottage. Indeed it's Mozart week all over the world

At home or at work I have played nothing but Mozart be it on CD or DVD (or VHS). On Friday, I wonder if I can stay up through the night to watch BBC4, who are, amusingly and very irritatingly, doing highlights of 24Hours Mozart and Radio 3 is barely even dedicating the day to him. But unless something else dramatic happens, Friday will be Mozartmania all the way of mmofm

* or the quiz is really easy!

Perfect Mozart

An evening at Cadogan Hall, to which I have never previously ventured.   A lovely compact little hall, just off Sloane Square, refurbished and opened as "London's newest concert hall" less than two years ago.

Tonight was the opening concert in The King's Consort season, an exclusively Mozart evening with soprano Carolyn Sampson, who I completely adore. Also in the audience was Blogger Simon - our diaries often coincide and we share a taste for singers.

It was an exceptionally lovely concert, a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar. In full:

Regina Coeli, KV 127
Sancta Maria, mater Dei, KV 273
Epistle sonata in C, KV 278
Exsultate, Jubilate, KV 165
Symphony 34 in C, KV 338
Regina Coeli, KV 108

The Epistle sonata was extraordinarily familiar to me, and I was puzzled, because the name meant nothing, but a quick flick through my CD collection has shown that it is inserted into the Coronation Mass which features on my most favourite Mozart CD. The first Regina Coeli was slightly familiar, as if I might have heard it more than once previously. The second Regina Coeli and the Sancta Maria were entirely unfamiliar. I thought I knew the Exsultate, Jubilate, but when it started I realised I didn't, but then it progressed and I realised I did - a programme note states it is "the rarely heard Salzburg version of the famous Exsultate Jubilate..."

I sort of  know Symphony 34, although it is not in my collection. The Andante is reminiscent of my beloved Clarinet Quintet, the final movement reminiscent of the famous horn concerto. But the fabulous thing about Mozart is that it doesn't matter whether or not you can hum silently along.

The orchestra were fabulous. There was a small flub from the period horns - how precarious are modern horns, let alone old ones - but otherwise no criticisms. The sensitivity was moving. I think Robert King is a wonderful conductor, and I have rarely heard Mozart played with such delicacy and feeling, with some amazing contrasts not just in dynamics but in touch, if you get me. The orchestra was perfectly sized for the space  - interesting feature in the Guardian (and apologies to the couple next to me - this is where I read briefly about the history of the venue...). Bigger than a chamber orchestra, but not so vast as those wonderfully enormous symphony orchestras that fill the big halls.

The Choir of the King's Consort, small but beautifully formed, sounded just right, too. My only criticism was that I found their opening salvo to be quite difficult to understand, but maybe that was me adjusting to the acoustics of a new venue, because after the first few minutes, I thought them excellent.

If it had been a purely orchestral and choral concert, I would have come away delighted, but in addition to all that we were treated to a sublime performance by Carolyn Sampson, her of the crystal voice - "the leading British soprano of her generation" said the programme. There are so many aspects of her voice that I enjoy. Most of all the sheer clarity, and added to that the even-ness of tone from the very high to almost the bottom of her range. The ability to vary dynamics, the mezza di voce, and the coloratura she displayed. All this and a wonderful sense of music and the ability to project herself to the whole audience, when not singing meeting all corners of the audience with her eyes.

At the end Robert King mentioned that they would be spending the next three days recoding that programme and some other pieces in preparation for Mozart's 'big year' next year, and, if we didn't mind, they would practice one piece with us. This was Laudate Dominum, already one of my very favourite arias. The way it was performed tonight, especially by Carolyn, but also by the choir, the orchestra and conductor was something very special. And the final 'note' was a perfect appreciative silence by the audience, not under the direction of the baton, but because the music deserved it. I had experienced goosebumps at periods throughout. Laudate Dominum made the hairs on my arm stand up. I turned to the woman next to me and said "That's one CD sold, already". As I was walking up the gangway to leave there was an elderly couple behind me in tears. They had never heard Carolyn before and had never heard anything like her, especially that final Laudate Dominum.

As well as a perfect choir, orchestra, conductor and soloist, there was an almost perfect audience. At one point the woman next to me delicately rattled a packetof mints, but I suspect it was only me that noticed, and then only momentarily. Otherwise, perfect. Except that in the distance I spotted a man so repulsive that I once entirely resisted his attempts to seduce me despite his evil use of Plácido Domingo records and copious quantities of red wine direct from the chateau. I did consider taunting him about some other matter, knowing that I was surrounded by Lambeth residents (I'm such an earwigger) but there's no snappy way of saying "Where's the three million  defrauded from Lambeth Housing on your watch...?"

Così fan tutte

Last night at the English National Opera was Mozart's Così  fan Tutte. Perhaps you might wish to read this in conjunction with my visit to Covent Garden last autumn and a review of a Zurich production last month.

The cast was:
Fiordiligi - Cara O'Sullivan
Dorabella - Anne Marie Gibbons
Ferrando - Gregory Turay
Guglielmo - Mark Stone
Don Alfonso - Robert Poulton
Despina - Lilian Watson

Conductor - Edward Gardner

It is simply beautiful. Right now I am thinking it might just be Mozart's best opera - and this from someone who has asserted for years that Le Nozze di Figaro is the best opera written, ever.

I would say that it is an example of some of the most Mozartianly beautiful writing that Mozart ever wrote, of which Soave sia il vento is really up there as gorgeously sublime.

Cosi fan tutte

  Zurich Opera under Nikolaus Harnencourt.

I saw this live last autumn in a performance that was superior all round.

I watched this last week, and wrote notes on my Palm whilst sitting on the sofa. I draft posted the entry with the intention of sprucing it up and making it cogent, but reading through it, I think the desultory, fragmented nature of the post reflects my rather uninterested attitude when watching this actual video.

My problem with this is that there seems to be acting and singing going on at the same time, but in a disassociated way. None of the male singers has a voice of any beauty - at least as they sound here. And whether it's inherent, or the way they're directed, but they just seem two-dimensional cyphers of characters.

When I saw it at Covent Garden, there was a lot of laughter.

Much too much standing around and bel canting, except that it isn't especially bel.

The music as written is really quite gorgeous, but in this video it sounds quite screechy. Except for Cecilia. It isn't the best example I have of her, but it's worth watching for her

Soave il vento - trio, gorgeous as written. Shame about Don Alonso. In fact, generally shame about Don Alonso who seemed to bark through it. Dorabella a ham actress. Or ham directed, I'm not sure. I don't think the singers were particularly helped by the tempi often been on the slow side. This was noticeable, for example, during Come scoglio, one of my favourite Mozart arias. Considering that she's basically singing about standing firm as a rock, a languid tempo seems nonsense. What should be a rallantado becomes a dirge. During the finer colaratura bits in the second part CB is struggling for breath. Still, she's get a good few cheers from the audience.

Whereas Mr Bland Pretty Boy singing Un'aura amoroso barely gets polite applause. This is another of Mozart's utterly gorgeous arias. By all accounts it's a bugger to sing, and he has an approximate relation with the pitch at times, partly again due to the funereal pace. A pace unsuited to the mood of the music and the meanings of the lyrics. Plus him frowning throughout.

Act 1 isn't over yet, and I'm groaning everytime Don Alfonso comes on screen. He's not funny, he's not manipulative, just boring.

There isn't actually a lot of dramatic action happening - much of the story revolves around the psychology. In brief, Don Alfonso bets the guys that the women won't stay faithful if they're away. So they pretend to go away, and come back disguised as Albanians and woo each other's women. When the women reject their advances, they pretend to swallow poison. The housekeeper, Despina, who's in on the joke arrives disguised as a mesmeritist and magically revives them.

Act 2 Another evening, another act

It's such gorgeous music that I've booked to see it next month at ENO. There is no way that the production can be worse than this one.

Philosophically, some people have a problem with this, assuming that it is misogynous - it translates literally as "How all women are..." I have two objections to taking an overtly contemporary feminist view against operas, or indeed, drama, literature or art from historic times. Firstly, their creators are the products of their time. Guess what, neither Mozart nor Da Ponte were Guardian-reading 21st century feminists. And, if for argumemt's sake they were reasonably enlightened for their times, they would still reflect the reality of their age.

You could find it offensive that the purpose of this is to illustrate that women lack the capacity to be faithful. Yet it mentions that men do, too. You could conversely take the view that women were forced by economics and mores to marry. How sensible to marry any convenient halfway decent man. No point sitting around pining for some chap who might or might not come back from battle. Or maybe, we could remember how easily it is for practical jokes to go too far. Or perhaps, it's a lesson about not being taken in too much by charm. Maybe a lesson not to put your love to the test, and not to complain when you find it wanting.

Me, I love the music, but would rather a different cast than on this video, which I doubt I shall watch again for a long time.

Don Alfonso is a crooner, Ferrando a barker, and Guillermo has an insipid voice. Dorabella has a boring voice, and Despina an ugly one.

six other DVDs available. Opera Nights recommends  La Scala and Glyndebourne, and that EMI CD looks like a must-have.