Postcards From Exotic Places – NZSO’s Chinese New Year

Postcards From Exotic Places

SHENG – Postcards / LALO – Symphonie Espagnole

BODY – 3 Arias from “Alley” / DVORAK – Symphony No.9 “From the New World”

Tianwa Yang (violin)

Jon Jackson (counter-tenor)

Perry So (conductor)

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra

Michael Fowler Centre, Wellington

Saturday 29th January 2011

On paper, it somehow seemed a slightly gimmicky way for the NZSO to begin the year – and having two much-played works from the standard repertoire presented as “exotic places” came across as almost ingenuous. How could Dvorak’s “New World” Symphony, which EVERYBODY knows, possibly create an “exotic” impression? And, as a friend of mine remarked, “Chinese New Year Concert? – well, if you regard Lalo and Dvorak as Chinese composers, I suppose!”

In the event, it all worked surprisingly well, not the least due to some remarkable performances from the musicians involved with the concert. Both of the “standard repertoire” pieces sounded newly-minted on this occasion, and the two more obviously “Chinese” items in the concert stimulated and delighted the ear, so that we in the audience were constantly drawn towards the music. The brilliant and evocative playing of the soloist, Chinese violinist Tianwa Yang, brought Lalo’s Symphonie Espagnole alive for me in a way I wouldn’t have thought possible – I’d previously regarded the piece as vapid and long-winded, and was charmed to find myself so unexpectedly engaged by it all. As significant was the contribution of the young Chinese conductor, Perry So, who secured from the NZSO players plenty of energy and focus throughout, enabling one to fall in love all over again with Antonin Dvorak’s most well-known symphony, one whose familiarity might just as easily have prompted a routine, all-purpose makeover. Instead, here was a fresh, urgently-delivered sequence of responses which made the notes sound as though they really mattered, the first two movements in particular for me getting right into what sounded like the music’s pulsating heart.

One of the most interesting aspects of the concert was the performance of three of the arias from Jack Body’s opera “Alley”, first staged in 1998 in Wellington’s International Arts Festival. At a pre-concert-talk the composer himself charmingly spoke about the music and the figure behind its inspiration, China-based New Zealander Rewi Alley, an active and life-long supporter of Mao Tse-tung’s Communist Revolution and its aftermath. Though problematic for a number of reasons, the production at the time received a lot of acclaim, though I felt the music had been somewhat compromised by the various on-and off-stage goings-on. Here, then, was a chance to experience without undue distraction three of the opera’s musical highlights, each of the three arias belonging to the young Rewi Alley, reflecting upon different aspects of both pre-and post-revolutionary China.

Each aria was sung by Australian counter-tenor Jon Jackson, not quite with sufficient voice in his “normal” register, but crackling with electricity in his “counter-tenor” mode, galvanizing the textures with incredibly emotive tones. The first song, Two Eyes, describing the execution of a young dissident, began with beautifully-focused “exotic” textures, readily capturing a sense of a time and place at once immediate and far away. The singing, precise and controlled at first, seemed muted, in danger of being consistently overwhelmed by the orchestral textures (less of a problem, perhaps, with the band in an opera house orchestral pit), but then hurling aside all reticence in counter-tenor mode, as the victim’s fate becomes apparent. The second aria , Men at Work, featured goosebump-making antiphonal drumming, and orchestral vocalizations, the soloist more “sprecht” than “gesang” in places, describing both the power and purpose of “ten thousand men working naked”, and the near-eroticism of the sight of a young boy cooling his body with irrigation water. Finally, Night painted a visionary, in places heartbreaking set of images of sleep, involving sleepers, whispering trees and millions of “battered, joyless children” imploring, seeking comfort and love. Body and his librettist, Geoff Chapple, used texts drawn from Alley’s own poetry.

Opening the concert, Bright Sheng’s Postcards took us on a whirlwind tour of different parts of China, the composer using folk music idioms from specific regions to help characterize a particular feeling about each one. From the Mountains took listeners to remote, widely-spaced places, the wind lines exotically “bending” their melodic pitching in places and creating a peaceful sense of drifting distance in tandem with undulating string figurations. A contrast came with From the River Valley, whose Respighi-like energies, heralded by bell-sounds, featured ear-tickling sonorities from winds and a muted trumpet set against the roar of heavy percussion at climactic points. Rather more primitive and challenging was From the Savage Lands, sounding in places like a “Stravinsky-meets Britten” amalgam of rhythms and sonorities, building up to an exciting rhythmic tattooing of percussion and shrieking winds, until muted trumpet and bass clarinet led the music away from the bacchanalian frenzies to a state of exhausted afterglow, the composer confessing that at this point in his work, the final Wish You Were Here, his homesickness for his native land became all too apparent. Sheng’s music amply demonstrated at this point that peculiarly Oriental ability to evoke whole worlds with the simplest of artistic means, the restraint of the scoring making all the more telling a concluding impression of peaceful resignation.

As for the two better-known items in the concert, what I really enjoyed was the immediacy of the playing of both the soloist and the orchestra – I thought the instrumental textures were given a bit more edge and “bite” in places than has been the case with the orchestra of late, making for an exciting and involving sound. Beside violinist Tianwa Yang’s stunning playing – expressive across a gutsy-to-sweetly-rapt continuum – many of the orchestral solos both stimulated and enchanted, none more so than the superb cor anglais playing of Michael Austin throughout the New World Symphony’s Largo, though comparable magic was wrought by the front-desk octet of strings at the close of the movement. Apart from a reading of the Scherzo of the Symphony which in places relied perhaps too much on speed instead of rhythmic pointing, I thought conductor Perry So’s approach to the music constantly fresh and invigorating. And I liked the sounds he encouraged from the players, direct and wholehearted, and serving the music well.

Dialogues des Carmélites – the sources

In my review of the New Zealand Opera School’s gala concert on 13 January, I mentioned that Poulenc’s opera, Dialogues des Carmélites, in the last scene of which the Carmelite sisters are guillotined and which the women singers at the opera school performed, was based on a novel by Georges Bernanos.

I erred.

It was based on a drama by that novelist, but the story’s origins go much further back.

It derives from actual events during the Terror that followed the French Revolution in 1793/94, when the sisters of the Carmelite convent at Compiègne were indeed guillotined. The story was told by one of their members, Mother Marie, who is assistant prioress in the opera and survived the massacre to live till 1836. The publication of her chronicle, Relation, led to the beatification of the sisters in 1906. The German writer Gertrude von Le Fort turned it into a novel in 1911, inventing the role of Blanche, naming her ‘de la Force’, an adaptation of her own name.

After the Second World War, the French resistance fighter Father Brückberger created a screen-play on the story, and invited Bernanos to write the dialogue. He too invested something of himself in the work; he was dying of cancer, like the Prioress, Madame de Croissy, and he even gave her his own age, 59. And he clothed the Prioress’s discourse with Blanche on theological matters and the character of their order. with his own religious obsessions and feelings.

But Bernanos’s work was regarded as unsuitable for film and it was turned into a stage play which Poulenc saw in the early 1950s. So that when his publisher, Ricordi, suggested it to Poulenc as the subject of an opera, he seized the chance at once. The opera was premiered at La Scala, Milan, in 1957, in which the role of Blanche was sung by Virginia Zeani, founding principal tutor at the Wanganui opera school.

As I wrote in the review, this ensemble was perhaps the most striking of all the performances at this year’s concert. Perhaps it will prompt an enterprising impresario or opera company to tackle the entire opera, generally considered one of the greatest of the twentieth century.

(drawn from the Grove Book of Operas)

 

Whanganui hosts a sell-out opera school gala concert

Seventeenth New Zealand Opera School at Whanganui. Director of the school: Donald Trott; Performance director: Sara Brodie

Royal Wanganui Opera House

Thursday 13 January 2011

For the first time, the gala concert to end the summer opera school was a sell-out. A brilliantly contrived TV item may have been partly responsible, with a rehearsed ‘ad hoc’ performance in a street market a couple of days before featuring the brindisi from La traviata.

In recent years a group has become established, Wanganui Opera Week, which helps popularise and make visible and audible the school’s activities in the city. And year by the year appreciation of the rare distinction that Whanganui enjoys in the survival of its Victorian opera house grows. A house not only of considerable architectural interest but also with excellent acoustics.

The last four summer opera schools have had the benefit of staging and, shall we say, dramaturgical embellishment by choreographer and opera and theatre director Sara Brodie. And it was this element, in addition to the widely acknowledged rise in vocal skills, that dominated audience conversations. In contrast to last year’s concert which comprised a series of tableaux each with something of a common theme, this concert was guided by two ideas.

The first was an audition session from the inside, with Sara Brodie playing the key role in the assessments. The first candidate, Bianca Andrew, sang a vivid ‘Parto, parto’ from La clemenza di Tito, all the taxing roulades cleanly delivered, and she was rewarded with an immediate, ‘You’re hired!’.

The auditioning process recurred from time to time throughout, but it was overlaid by a French cabaret or revue setting, and the colour blue seemed to be a constant image, along with the sensuous use of large feather boas; they became a sort of trade mark. The joint MCs of the revue scenes were Bianca Andrew and Cameron Barclay; he later sang the aria from Les Troyens.

Nothing could have been more French than the four excerpts from Offenbach’s Les contes d’Hoffmann and the panel’s conferring about the singer led to the Students’ drinking song from the Prologue to that opera, sung by the men – I counted nine. Was this a record? I don’t think there have been so many excellent male singers at the school before.

The first ‘Act’ closed with the Barcarolle – the duet from the Giulietta act, with the surprise inclusion of the Sri Lankan counter-tenor Stephen Diaz, who had attracted wide attention last year. He took Nicklausse’s mezzo role, inauthentically, as a female mezzo normally sings the part of Hoffmann’s male friend. His performance was immaculate and authoritative. Bryony Williams sang Giulietta, well, though the two voices seemed to inhabit quite different acoustic spaces; was it a quirk of the theatre or was there some subtle amplification taking place?

Diaz had earlier sung an aria by one of the great composers of the castrato era – Riccardo Broschi, the brother of Carlo, more famous as the castrato Farinelli, from his opera called Idaspe (Venice, 1730). Though this year’s aria (‘Ombra fedele anch’io’) was unknown, it made no less impact than Handel’s ‘Ombra mai fu’ did in 2010. Though Diaz made his performance with its dazzling embellishments look easy, it was not merely the uncommon vocal register that made him stand out, but also his musicianship and lyrical gift, his natural expressive powers, the penetrating strength and subtlety of his singing that placed him in a class of his own.

Bryony Williams’s solo aria was in the second half – Catalani’s greatest hit, ‘Ebben? Ne andrò lontana’ from La Wally. Here, in a long blue gown, Wally enters being chased from her father’s house because she persists in her love for the son of her father’s enemy. Her polished voice and arresting stage presence did full justice to this evocative aria.

The second offering from The Tales of Hoffmann was the Kleinzach chorus, sung in English, with the final sound of both that name and the Bach town of Eisenach pronounced ‘k’; no need to anglicize to that degree. However the singing was spirited. It was followed as if there was some narrative connection, by ‘Mon coeur s’ouvre à ta voix’ from Samson et Dalila; Elisha Fai sang it in French, showing a few flaws though hers is a pleasing and promising voice.

A Samson presented himself at her feet during her performance, which was followed by the metamorphosis from Samson to Hoffmann to a continuation of Kleinzach. Darren Pene Pati’s voice exhibited colour and real beauty as well as impressive control.

We did not hear him in an extended aria till his beautiful performance of ‘Che gelida manina’ (Bohème) near the end of the concert. His was one of the highlights of the concert and it received a well merited ovation. His Mimi, Xing Xing Wang, followed it naturally with ‘Si, mi chiamano Mimi’ in a perfect interpretation that was vocally affecting and histrionically poised and moving. Applause for her was hardly less enthusiastic.

The third piece from Hoffmann was the above mentioned Barcarolle; the fourth, fittingly, was the septet that brings the opera to an end, as it did the concert itself, with the entire assembly singing with huge gusto and enjoyment. Bruce Greenfield accompanied all the Hoffmann excerpts, lending the spirit of the fantastic and the recklessness that characterizes the story of Offenbach’s hero.

Other French pieces included a lovely aria that is familiar but whose provenance is probably obscure: ‘Oh! Ne t’éveille pas encore’ from Jocelyn by Benjamin Godard, a contemporary of Fauré and Chausson. Oliver Sewell did not altogether avoid the danger of allowing its charming sentiment from sliding towards the sentimental; a good voice but as yet little stage presence.

In ‘Act II’, the first French aria came from a rather neglected quarter: Berlioz.

Cameron Barclay repeated his successful recipe from last year, with something very unfamiliar. In 2010 he sang an aria from Copland’s The Tender Land; this time it was Iopas’s aria ‘O blonde Cérès’ sung to console Dido in Act IV of Les Troyens. His French was good and the quality of his voice promising as he found the right idiom and phrasing for Berlioz’s sometimes unusual metres.

There followed two familiar arias from familiar operas, Carmen and Faust, but first, and most remarkably, the final scene from Poulenc’s devastating opera Dialogues des Carmélites. (Note the proper title of the opera is without the definite article). Here, in the opera based on Georges Bernanos’s novel, all 11 women in the school took the parts of the nuns, falling dead in full view on stage as we hear the swoosh of the guillotine, in one of the many terrible acts of fanaticism perpetrated during the Terror following the French Revolution. In the only live production I’ve seen, the nuns are led out one by one to be executed out of sight; the effect is, as always, far more chilling and powerful than for violent acts to be portrayed graphically, a fact to which most theatre and film directors today seem oblivious.

It was perhaps the most dramatic and memorable item on the evening.

School director Donald Trott reminded those of the audience unaware of the career of founder tutor of the school Virginia Zeani, that she had sung the major role of Blanche de la Force at the La Scala world premiere of Carmélites in 1947 – the opera made such a remarkable impact that productions followed in the same year in Paris, Cologne and San Francisco.

Kieran Rayner followed that with Valentin’s aria from Faust pleading that God watch over his sister Marguérite while he is away at war. As with his brindisi from Thomas’s Hamlet in 2010, aria Rayner showed his flair in the French repertoire, striking presence and a robust attractive voice. Oddly, I found some of his French vowels a little eccentric.

From fifteen years later, Carmen made its appearance in Micaela’s second aria, ‘Je dis que rien ne m’épouvante’.Rachel Day chose it well for it lay comfortably for her even though her top notes were a little shrill.

Other nationalities were represented in a few items.

American operas had interesting exposure, starting with Bernstein’s Candide. Here was a splendid vehicle for promising coloratura Olga Gryniewicz who sang a Rimsky-Korsakov aria in 2010. In truth, some of the high notes in ‘Glitter and be Gay’ showed her at a little below the polished and assured brilliance of some earlier performances, but there is both fine musicianship and vocal virtuosity here; and she is a vivid actress.

Menotti is American rather than Italian and the aria from The Old Maid and the Thief opened ‘Act II’; Bridget Costello sang the droll ‘Steal me, sweet thief’ with clear diction and straight-faced irony; her voice is well schooled, has excellent dynamic control and she inhabited the role well.

The third American opera was Carlisle Floyd’s Susannah from which Amelia Berry sang ‘The trees on the mountain’. She sings with skill and confidence, her voice firm, accurate and expressive. In choosing this aria she demonstrated both adventurousness and a musicality that should take her far.

Two singers had chosen Britten.

Rose Blake sang the Embroidery aria from Peter Grimes, a long and difficult piece to interpret musically and with lyricism, yet her well-supported voice and secure high notes complemented her musicality.

Considerably less familiar is Britten’s Rape of Lucretia though its first appearance just after World War II led to many productions. The former Wellington Polytechnic produced it about a decade ago. It was not the title-role we heard – made famous by Ferrier and Baker – but the part of Tarquin, as he contemplates the sleeping Lucretia. Thomas Barker’s baritone was beguiling and attractive rather that expressing the violent lust that drives him.

Stravinsky’s The Rakes’s Progress can also be classed as English for Stravinsky set this operatic interpretation of Hogarth’s set of engravings in English. Imogen Thirlwell sang Anne’s poignant aria, ‘No news from Tom’ with clarity and some sensitivity.

Since the last gala concert of the opera school, several of these singers were heard in one or both of the operas in Rhona Fraser’s Days Bay garden: The Marriage of Figaro and Rossini’s The Journey to Rheims. There they all demonstrated their ability to handle not just individual arias but sustained performance in a real opera.

Mozart in fact out-numbered Offenbach, with six singers in a variety of well-known arias from four operas. There were two arias from Figaro.

Isabella Moore sang the Countess’s ‘Porgi amor’, her first appearance at the beginning of Act II. I thought her red dress offered the wrong image for the betrayed wife, but her singing showed her understanding nevertheless.

A little later in Act II the young page Cherubino, a mezzo trouser role, seeks the help of Susanna and the Countess in understanding his unrelenting priapism: ‘Voi che sapete’, and Ceit McLean sang it well enough; as yet she has not developed the flair and confidence to carry such an aria off with real elan.

I mentioned Bianca Andrew’s ‘Parto, parto’ from Tito, which opened the concert.

Tavis Gravatt sang the baritone role of Guglielmo from Così fan tutte: ‘Donne mie, la fate a tanti’, in a sturdy, capable performance, not yet invested with much charm.

Another baritone, Anthony Schneider, sang the first of two arias from The Magic Flute: Papageno’s ‘Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja’, natural seeming; the by-play seemed a little de trop, as the Three Ladies made their appearance which would have made sense only to those familiar with the story. There were glosses on several other performances that would have had meaning only to the initiated. Schneider carried it very well.

The tenor ‘hero’ Tamino in the Flute is less funny than Papageno, and so makes quite different demands. A somewhat rapturous reaction is called for as he looks at a vignette of the princess Pamina, and neither Jamie Young’s costume nor his demeanour quite met the requirements; the by-play was again a little distracting but his actual singing portrayed Tamino effectively.

Accompaniments were uniformly splendid; in addition to Greenfield, they were Greg Neil, Iola Shelley, Evans Chang, Travis Baker, Mark Dorrell, and Philippa Safey. Michael Vinten conducted choruses. The tutors were Prof Paul Farrington, Margaret Medlyn, Barry Mora, Richard Greager; Flavio Villani tutors in Italian and Kararaina Walker was production assistant and delivered the opening Karanga.

In a country so isolated from the musical, especially operatic, resources and performances available in Europe and even in North America, more than usual efforts need to be made to provide opportunities to hone skills and cultivate talents and interpretive insight as well as taking part in live performance. This now 17-year-old opera school at Whanganui provides some of the scarce experiences of the first kind.

The Whanganui project is the result of extraordinary efforts on the part of a few dedicated enthusiasts, led by Donald Trott, dependent on huge fund-raising efforts which ought to be taken up to a far greater degree through the state-assisted tertiary education system.

We need both advanced training and journeyman experiences for our rising singers, plus professional companies that can stage more than two productions a year to provide a basic livelihood in their own country.

While New Zealand often seems content to congratulate itself for producing gifted musicians and others in the arts, little attention is paid to the stark fact that this country is right at the bottom of the OECD in terms of arts funding at all levels and in all the serious genres. What initiatives the Government does take seem, extraordinarily, to be devoted to energy and money-wasting ‘reviews’ and consultative processes, to cutting and imposing ever-increasing barriers and demands on poverty-stricken, already struggling enterprises.

Free Concert to mark the Summer School of Choral Conducting

Choral pieces by American composers, Rossini, Brahms, Lauridsen, Helen Fisher, David Griffiths, David Childs and Anthony Ritchie

Choir of the Summer School in Choral Conducting conducted by three visiting tutors from USA with accompanist, Bronwyn Brown (Australia); Voices New Zealand Chamber Choir conducted by Karen Grylls, with Horomona Horo (taonga puoro)

Sacred Heart Cathedral, Hill Street

Sunday, 2 January 2011

A free concert is always welcome, and Sacred Heart was nearly full for a short choral concert.

The opening bracket of songs were all by American composers, and conducted by tutors at the Summer School of Choral Conducting, the choir being made up of those being tutored: choral conductors and fledgling conductors.

Jo-Michael Scheibe conducted ‘I carry your heart with me’ by David Dickau, with words by e.e. cummings. He explained that there had only been three hours for rehearsal; whether this was for this piece alone or for all three pieces was not made clear. After a tentative start, this was a good performance, though not electrifying, despite one of the headings in the printed programme reading ‘International Summer School in Choral Conduction Inc.’ The choir of over 40 was well balanced, and featured splendid basses. This item was accompanied on the piano by Bronwyn Brown.

The second choral song was a setting of Psalm 121: ‘I will lift up mine eyes’, by Nicholas Mekaig. It was conducted by Christopher Kiver, an Englishman resident in the United States. Again, the opening was a little tentative, and at one point the soprano sound turned into something of a shriek, but there was good unaccompanied singing, and a lovely balanced ending.

These were two beautiful settings, which would be worth local choirs taking up.

The last of the three was accompanied, and opened with excellent unison singing. Most of the choir sang from memory in this item: ‘True Light’ by Keith Hampton, conducted by Mary Hopper. This was a gospel-style number, with the choir eventually swaying to the beat.

The choir made a good fist of unfamiliar music. The conductors were clear in their beats and other gestures, without flamboyance, and produced good results from a group not accustomed to singing together, performing new music.

After a short break while the choirs changed places, Horomona Horo slowly led Voices New Zealand into the Cathedral, as he played taonga puoro. He switched instruments from the conch shell trumpet-like instrument to a long wooden, very loud wind instrument when the choir reached the front of the church.

For a complete contrast, the choir began with Rossini’s ‘Cantemus’, an attractive piece reminiscent of compositions of a couple of centuries earlier. Immediately we were in the presence of a very impressive choir. These are quality voices, singing very effectively with unified tone, excellent enunciation, feeling for the music, which moves forward all the time. Legato singing was graceful, and dynamics superbly graded.

Brahms’s ‘Nachtwache’ and ‘Verlorene Jugend’ from Funf Gesänge followed. Fullness of beautiful tone is what distinguishes this choir and its remarkable conductor, as well as accuracy and attention to detail. For example, all the vowels are made in the same way by every one of the 24 choir members. There is plenty of volume when required. In this piece there were one or two harsh high soprano notes, but this was an isolated occurrence. I am sure Brahms would have been thrilled with this performance.

The noted American choral composer Morten Lauridsen wrote Six Fire Songs. Three were performed, and proved to be very effective music. They were sung with force and clarity. There were difficult harmonies, all executed to perfection.

‘Pounamu’ by Helen Fisher was the only one of the Voices items accompanied: Horomona Horo played the koauau beautifully during this quite lengthy piece. The instrument contributed to a ghostly feeling, as did the long-held notes from the choir. The interval of a second occurred frequently; this was difficult music, and not something that many other choirs could readily tackle.

David Griffiths set poems of Charles Brasch in Five Landscapes, of which we heard two: ‘Oreti Beach’ and ‘On Mount Iron’. This was stark, but interesting music, and the second song particularly featured delicious choral writing. However, from where I sat it was not possible to hear most of the words.

A lovely ‘Salve Regina’ setting by David Childs was exquisitely sung. There were gorgeous harmonies, and the basses particularly were outstanding. A few fuzzy entries did not really detract from a fine rendering.

Last of all was a piece written especially for Voices New Zealand: ‘Olinda’ by Anthony Ritchie. Here, the words were clearer – it may be that the writing of a former New Zealand Youth Choir member (and present Board member of Choirs Aotearoa) lent itself to greater clarity. It was a cheerful item with which to end a memorable concert.

Christine Argyle introduced the Voices items, each of which was received with sustained and hearty applause from the audience.

The four New Zealand compositions were all more adventurous in style than the American ones. This is not to put down the latter – they were all most effective choral pieces, and certainly not without tricky harmonies and rhythms. We were treated to a programme of demanding music, magnificently sung.

Connecting with Sibelius – NZSO on Naxos

Sibelius –  Symphony No.1 in E Minor Op.39 / Symphony No.3 in C Major Op.52

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra

Pietari Inkinen, conductor

(recorded in the Michael Fowler Centre, Wellington,

March 3rd-5th 2009)

Naxos 8.572305

Interesting that Pietari Inkinen and the NZSO chose to record these works before presenting them in concert – I had thought that the orchestra’s “Sibelius Festival” of September 2009 was the occasion for parallel recordings of the same repertoire, but it appears from the dates given on the disc that the First and Third Symphonies at least were set down some time before the concerts, in March of that year. Doubtless, Naxos’s “schedules” would have been the overall consideration in the done order of things, but I would have thought it best to have tried to capture on record some of the energy and impetus generated by the “live” performances. I have to say that the music-making on this new Naxos CD represents a pretty stunning achievement by conductor and players, as were the live concerts, of course. At the time I felt Inkinen’s interpretations and the orchestral playing, though beautifully and expertly realized, hung fire in places, though while listening to both works on CD I did feel that at certain flash-points the concert performances had a sharper focus, as if the music had been lived with for a while and the structural and emotional terrain even more deeply considered.

I do remember the beautifully-presented clarinet solo at the beginning of the First Symphony – in the concert the player was Patrick Barry, and there’s every reason to suppose that it’s the same musician on this recording. It couldn’t have gotten the symphony’s performance off to a more auspicious beginning, the last few whispered notes of the solo startlingly flooded with light and energy by the strings’ entry, the playing fervent and sonorous. Everything’s nicely caught, the mood-changes profound and atmospheric, but judiciously fitted into the music’s long-term contouring. We get a vivid sense of the work’s journeying through varied territories, pizzicati strings, winds and brass building up the excitement and tension with the development’s repeated falling melodic figure, leading to the glorious flowering of the strings’ big tune and the reprise of their opening material, grander and more epic this time round, on full orchestra. Is all perfect? – Here, and again at the movement’s end I find myself wanting a notch or two more bite, more fire in the music’s belly – those stern summoning brass calls near the end for me need to sound as though they REALLY mean business!

Following are rich, dark evocations at the slow movement’s beginning – expressive strings and wind against a sonorous brass sound. As the music moves from pastoral playfulness to epic resolve, Inkinen and the orchestra take on the challenge with ever-increasing intensity. The stormy episode trenchantly rumbles and threatens, only a slight rhythmic hiccup at the top of a string phrase (a rogue edit?) momentarily delaying a sense of those rhythms and impulses spilling over and flooding everything in the way, though the elephantine brass snarls and lower-string energies are wonderfully visceral! A Finlandia-like theme (a variant of the movement’s opening phrase) calms the storm, and takes up the dark tender song of the opening once again, singing the movement to its end – beautifully played.

Good to hear Laurence Reese’s timpani so well caught in places here, but especially in this scherzo, stunningly presented by all concerned – I liked the cheekiness of the canonic episode begun by the winds and bolstered by the strings via deftly-voiced dovetailing. Then, shortly afterwards, there’s that astonishing mood-change beautifully wrought by the horns at the beginning of the trio – so magical, like revealing a secret garden whose veil is, for a few minutes pulled back to breathtaking, alchemic effect, before being peremptorily hidden from view and the opening rhythmic patterning reaffirmed. Right at the end, I thought Inkinen could have encouraged his brasses to spit out the final phrases with a bit more temperament – again, emphasizing a kind of “this is what we’re here for” attitude, which would have had the effect of more tellingly focusing the music. The finale’s opening has tragic, but noble strings, with wind-and-brass exchanges preparing the way for spirited, urgent allegro sequences, the timpani’s crisp rhythmic patterning especially well-caught as the music drives towards crashing chords and tumbledown string figurations. The hymn-like string tune is sweet and warm, keeping emotion in reserve the first time round, then blossoming more readily at its reprise – even so, I feel it’s all a bit cool, beautifully played, but held at arm’s length. “Oh, for a muse of fire!” exclaims a Shakespearean character; and likewise I crave here and there in the playing a touch of proper incandescence.

Symphony Three follows on the disc, a work more overtly classical in structure and organization, but still with Nordic overtones, by turns bracing and melancholic. Inkinen’s very “poised” approach brings out the lines and structures clearly, trusting more at the outset to the steady spin of rhythms and melodic lines than to accenting and phrase-pointing (the strings at the opening seem almost casual, with clipped phrase-ends) – though as the performance takes hold, conductor and players draw the listener into the spell woven by the music’s tensile insistence, the playing finding ever-increasing nuance and colour as one episode leads into another (whole realms of wonderment at 2’46” for example, when a great stillness draws its cloak over the skies for a few precious moments). And by the time the opening motive gathers up its impulses and returns, unequivocally, on the full orchestra, we are here swept along with the music’s tide, the triumphal march making its point and disappearing, almost as quickly as it had come. Only a strangely lukewarm-sounding final “Amen” from brass and timpani momentarily disconcerts – the rest is truly heartwarming.

But it’s the slow movement in this performance that truly enchants – Inkinen and the players manage to at once let the music unfold, as if conjuring it out of the air, while bringing a richly-wrought storyteller’s focus to each and every phrase. Winds and strings take turns to sing the melody, while brasses lay down ineffably distant pedal-points of ambience, the whole interaction of sounds here making for a listener’s  memorable distillation of imaginative possibility. I like the truly forthright wind-playing in the becalmed central section, and a sense of the air being stirred and shaken by quickening impulses from strings and winds, whose brief, impish dance sparkles like a will-o-the-wisp in the gloaming. The sunlight returns at the finale’s opening (such beguiling winds), though remembrances from the slow movement soon begin to cloud the skies and drive the energies and irruptions towards the juggernaut-like martial theme that sweeps the work to its conclusion. Stirring stuff – even if at the very end I could have imagined a grander, more celebratory sense of arrival (the live performance seemed to convey this more tellingly), with brass and timpani allowed rather more “attitude”!  Still, on the strength of all of this, I for one will await the rest of the series with considerable expectation.

Soprano Barbara Graham wins major French vocal prizes

The New Zealand School of Music website reveals that Wellington soprano Barbara Graham has won important French music prizes, not long after her arrival to study and audition in Paris.

Soprano Barbara Graham , an alumnus of NZSM, won both the French Melodie Prize and First Prize in the Festival de Musique et de langue français – des mots et des notes –  a competition for French language and music in Paris. With nine singers in the final, eight of them French, this was quite a coup for the Kiwi girl! Barbara was invited to stay on and sing a concert with a Parisian orchestra and will give two more Paris concerts with the orchestra in January. One of the judges told her that her French was better than the French singers!

Barbara also came second in the big Symphonie d’Automne competition in Macon with judges including Rudolph Piernay and Teresa Berganza. She didn’t realise she had won something until she heard her name, walked out on stage and was handed some wine and an envelope marked ‘Second’. She said she nearly dropped onto the floor with surprise.

As NZSM Classical Voice tutor Richard Greager points out: “With literally thousands of sopranos vying for recognition in Europe, for Barbara to achieve these results is quite simply outstanding.”

The Tudor Consort in a brilliant Christmas Oratorio

Bach: Christmas Oratorio, BWV 248

 

The Tudor Consort and the Vector Wellington Orchestra conducted by Michael Stewart. Soloists: Anna Leese (soprano), Kate Spence (alto), David Hamilton (tenor), Jared Holt (bass)

 

Wellington Town Hall

 

Saturday 18 December 2010, 7.30pm

 

The Tudor Consort’s courage in hiring the Town Hall for its Christmas Oratorio was rewarded by a good audience and by an absolutely wonderful performance. Anna Leese was no doubt an important draw-card, but in the event the success was achieved through the other three principals, by the choir itself, and very importantly, the superb baroque ensemble drawn from the Vector Wellington Orchestra.

 

Here was just one occasion when this fine orchestra provided an indispensable contribution to a performance. Bach calls for only about 23 players, but these were players who created an accompaniment of such finesse and sensitivity to the Baroque style that I can hardly imagine better in this country, or any other. As he had shown in his work with the choir, Michael Stewart proved an equally gifted orchestral director, as diverting to watch as to hear.

 

Most striking perhaps were the three trumpets, led conspicuously by section principal Barrett Hocking who carried most of the high-lying embellishments. No less beautiful were the four oboes two of which dealt with Bach’s writing for two deep-voiced oboe da caccia; or the accompaniment by solo violin and cello (Matthew Ross and Jane Young) of Kate Spence’s aria in Part III, ‘Schliess mein Herz’, and elsewhere.  The only outside players were NZSO timpanist Larry Reese and bass player Alexander Gunchenko whose playing made consummate contributions too.

 

On its own in the Sinfonia of Part II, all the many strengths of the orchestra, such as beautiful string playing, became most conspicuous.

 

Soprano Anna Leese had, naturally, attracted most of the pre-concert publicity; unfortunately, Bach had misread his brief and offered her fewer solo opportunities than she merited. Nevertheless, her singing stopped the audience in its tracks, as it were, in her first, short offering in Part II, as the Angel, in duet with David Hamilton’s Evangelist: ‘Und der Engel sprach zu ihnen’; again, in Part III, she sang in duet with Jared Holt, ‘Herr, dein Mitleid, dein Erbarmen’, somewhat oddly, many metres apart, at the front of the stage: her voice penetrating, dramatic, agile, and nicely blending with Holt’s.  

 

After a most delightful trio between soprano, alto and tenor, Leese got her big solo in Part VI, ‘Nur ein Wink von seinen Händen’, which only convention prevented the audience from shouting to the rafters: such variety of colour and articulation, such insight into the meaning of every word.

 

(It was interesting to look back at the Mobil Song Quest in 2002: Anna Leese, winner; Kate Spence, second; Ana James, third. The other three finalists were ‘whatever-happened-to’ names: Majka Kaiser, Andrew Conley and the recently returned from Europe and still singing-in-opera, Anna Pierard.)

 

David Hamilton deserved equal billing for his prolonged work as the Evangelist, rich with highly accomplished ornaments, and interpretation of the words in the most lively and sympathetic way. His voice hardly tired, it remained clear and accurate throughout, still singing like a thirty-year-old!  For example, he made an impressive and arresting job of the melodious aria in Part II, ‘Frohe Hirten, eilt, ach, eilet’, adorned with ornaments and charmingly accompanied by flutes.  

 

After her runner-up prize in the 2002 Mobil Song Quest and studies in London Kate Spence had only a short professional career in opera; but she often sings on the concert platform. One has to lament that support of opera in New Zealand has been so poor that a singer of such talent has not been able to stay in the profession. Her voice, a lovely mezzo with characteristic warmth at the bottom, is full of character, projects strongly, a voice that bloomed in the Town Hall acoustic. I commented on her above; and she had several other notable recitatives, arias and ensembles, such as the long aria ’Schlafe mein Liebster’ in Part II, this time attractively accompanied by oboes and flutes.  

 

Jared Holt won the Mobil in 2000 and had a promising career that even reached the stage of Covent Garden; like several other singers, he had equipped himself with the safety-net of a law degree and that is now offering him more security. A strong opera company that can employ a regular ensemble of principals would have kept him away from law. His first substantial aria in Part I, ‘Grosser Herr, o starker König’, was a fine display of his sturdy competence, vigorous and splendidly dramatic: its accompaniment by a brilliant trumpet did his performance no harm at all. And I noted above, his very striking duet with Leese.

 

The oratorio obviously offers great music for the choir itself, with its wealth of lively, often triple-time numbers, and chorales, many of which have a familiar ring since so much of the music was recycled from earlier pieces. Not unusually, the choir’s energy and confidence built through the performance. Perhaps a shade more ecstasy might have driven the opening chorus, ‘Jauchzet, froh locket’, yet it was still among the most polished and exuberant performances I have heard; the subsequent chorales, calmer, enabled the choir to gather its strength for some powerful singing, till a chorus such as the opening of Part V, ‘Ehre sei dir, Gott, gesungen’ was a thrilling exhibition of ebullience and vocal athleticism.

 

Foremost in the thoughts of audience members as they listened to the orchestra’s polished and exuberant playing, must have been the present threat to the orchestra whose existence in at least its existing size and quality is vital to Wellington’s musical life. The behaviour of Creative New Zealand which would deny this orchestra even the modest level of assistance it now receives, seems driven by either vindictiveness, some obscure, adolescent, PC-ridden agenda, or plain ignorance: perhaps all three.

 

I can only hope that those who make boasts about the cultural capital will be able to bring to their senses those who have such destructive impulses.

 

 

Creative New Zealand: proposals for major funding recipients

The following is the press release from Creative New Zealand setting out proposals entitled Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) decisions.

It has serious musical implications.

It will be noted that of the orchestras currrently funded by Creative NZ, only the Auckland Philharmonia is among the chosen 22 while the orchestras in Wellington, Christchurch and Dunedin are in the holding pen of 10 further arts bodies.  However, the NZ String Quartet is among the 22.

It will also be noted that eight of the number are in Auckland, plus one – NBR NZ Opera – which is based in Auckland but also performs in Wellington.

The NZ International Arts Festival, Capital-E – National Theatre for Children and BATS Theatre are the only Wellington bodies among the 22. There are a number of ‘national’ arts organisations based in Wellington, which have no particular impact on Wellington.

BATS Theatre is the only Wellington theatre to qualify: neither of the major, long-standing companies are in: Downstage and Circa.  While in Auckland, the Auckland Theatre Company and Massive Company; and the Court Theatre in Christchurch and Centrepoint in Palmerston North are among the select.

And Christchurch’s Southern Opera is among neither the select 22 nor the other 10 in the waiting room.

It might be of interest to see a geographical breakdown of the 22 qualifying arts bodies:

National

Chamber Music New Zealand
DANZ
NZ Book Council
NZ String Quartet
Playmarket
Taki Rua

Auckland

Auckland Festival Trust
APO
Auckland Theatre Co
Black Grace
Massive Company
NBR NZ Opera
Objectspace
Tautai Contemporary Pacific Arts Trust
Toi Māori Aotearoa and Touch Compass Dance Trust

Wellington

Bats Theatre
Capital E
NZIAF

Christchurch

Court Theatre
The Physics Room

Dunedin

???

Palmerston North

Centrepoint Theatre

The text of the press release is as follows:

The Arts Board and Te Waka Toi (the Māori Arts Board) has confirmed 22 arts organisations into Creative New Zealand’s new Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) programme.

Of the 39 Expressions of Interest in the programme, 22 organisations have been confirmed to deliver one or more of the key roles.  A further 10 organisationshave been asked to provide further information before a decision is made on their ability to fulfil a key role or their fit with the programme.  As the number of organisations in the programme has not yet been finalised, no decisions have been made about the amount of funding to be allocated to any organisation.

“We are pleased to confirm three new organisations are to receive longer term funding for the first time as part of the Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) programme.  They are Massive Company (youth theatre), the Auckland Festival Trust and Touch Compass Dance Trust (which integrates dancers with and without disabilities in professional performances and events),” Creative New Zealand chief executive Stephen Wainwright said.

Seven organisations have been declined but can apply for funding through the complementary Arts Development Investment (Toi Uru Kahikatea) programme.

“The Arts Board and Te Waka Toi have made decisions on which organisations will take a leading and collaborative role in developing New Zealand’s arts infrastructure for the 21st Century,” Mr Wainwright said.

The new investment programmes were announced in July 2010 and will take effect from 2012.  They replace the existing Recurrent Funding Programme, which was closed to new applicants, and the contestable Arts Investment and Sector Investment programmes.

Timetable for next steps
The 22 arts organisations confirmed in the Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) programme have been asked to submit an indicative programme of activity and budget for the period 2012-2014, by May 2011. 

The 10 organisations where further assessment is needed have been also asked to submit programme and budget information as well as additional information to help assess their fit with the programme.

Creative New Zealand will be meeting with the 32 (22 + 10) organisations in February 2011 to provide advice on the information required and to discuss leadership and development of the arts.

The seven organisations not accepted into the Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) programme, but which are intending to apply for the complementary Arts Development Investment (Toi Uru Kahikatea) programme, must submit their applications for that programme by Friday 10 June 2011.

In August 2011 the Arts Board and Te Waka Toi will decide:

  • how much will be invested in the 22 arts organisations which have been confirmed in the Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) programme
  • whether the 10 organisations where further assessment is needed will be confirmed in the Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) programme and, if so, how much will be invested in each.  Organisations that do not receive funding through this programme may receive funding through the Arts Development Investment (Toi Uru Kahikatea) programme, and
  • which organisations will receive funding through the Arts Development Investment (Toi Uru Kahikatea) programme and how much.

Applicants will be advised of the outcome of these decisions in September 2011.

“This is the first of two sets of decisions to be made by the arts boards as we implement the new investment programmes.  We will be working with arts organisations during 2011 to manage the transition to the new programmes and establish certainty of funding for 2012,” Mr Wainwright said.

Description of the new programmes
The Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) programme provides support of between two to five years to well run, financially sound organisations that fulfil a key role or roles in the creation, presentation and distribution of high-quality arts experiences to New Zealanders.

The Arts Development Investment programme (Toi Uru Kahikatea) offers greater flexibility in the range of activity it can support with funding available for periods from six months to two years.

The 22 organisations which have been confirmed in the programme are: Auckland Festival Trust, Auckland Philharmonia Orchestra, Auckland Theatre Company, BATS Theatre, Black Grace, Centrepoint Theatre, Chamber Music New Zealand, DANZ – Dance Aotearoa New Zealand, Massive Company, Capital E – National Theatre for Children and Wellington Children’s Festival, New Zealand Book Council, New Zealand International Arts Festival, NBR New Zealand Opera, New Zealand String Quartet, Objectspace, Playmarket, Taki Rua Productions, Tautai Contemporary Pacific Arts Trust, The Court Theatre, The Physics Room, Toi Māori Aotearoa and Touch Compass Dance Trust.

The 10 organisations which have been asked to provide further information before a decision is made on whether they will be confirmed in the programme are: Arts Access Aotearoa, Artspace, Choirs Aotearoa New Zealand, Christchurch Symphony Orchestra, Circa Theatre, Downstage Theatre, Footnote Dance, Fortune Theatre, Southern Sinfonia and Vector Wellington Orchestra.

Establishing the Arts Leadership Investment (Toi Tōtara Haemata) and Arts Development Investment (Toi Uru Kahikatea) programmes was a recommendation from Creative New Zealand’s review of its programme for Recurrently Funded Organisations (RFOs).   The RFO review is the last of three funding programme reviews that Creative New Zealand undertook to complete as part of its strategic plan for 2007-2010.

In addition to the new programmes, Creative New Zealand will continue to offer Arts Grants and Quick Response Grants and continue to support the Creative Communities Scheme.

Organist Richard Apperley celebrates Advent and Christmas

Modern organ music for Advent and Christmas, by Andrew Baldwin, Marcel Dupré, Flor Peeters, Charles Ives, David Farquhar, Wilbur Held, Maughan Barnett.

Wellington Cathedral of St. Paul

Friday, 10 December 2010, 12.45pm

A fine organ recital from Richard Apperley consisted of mainly short seasonal pieces. All the composers were either born in the twentieth century, or did most of their composing in that century. Three New Zealand composers featured.

Andrew Baldwin was Composer in Residence at the Cathedral from 2006-2008, and wrote An Advent Prelude for Apperley in 2009; this was its first public performance. Charming chord progressions, alternation between manuals and much use of the swell pedal, allowing for gradual build-up from pianissimo passages were features, as were key changes. Not a profound work, it nevertheless made pleasant listening.

Dupré was one of the great French organist-composers. His ‘Ecce Dominus veniet’ (Behold the Lord cometh) from his Six Antiphons for the Christmas Season was short and sweet: attractive, but not diverse in style or key.

Another organist-composer, this time Belgian, was Flor Peeters. His music for organ is varied and imaginative, as was ‘Hirten, er ist geboren’ (Shepherds, he is born). At the beginning there was delightful use of a 2-foot stop in running passages for the right hand, with the chorale melody below. The music reminded me of flights of birds, or music as droplets of sound.

Charles Ives, the American composer, had studied the organ in his youth. His Prelude ‘Adeste Fidelis’ began with a sustained high note, which changed to dissonant chords, followed by the melody in the lower part, against ever more dissonant chords and pedal before the return of the high note. It was a thoroughly innovative treatment of the well-known tune.

Another well-known Christmas melody was the subject of David Farquhar’s piece: ‘“…From Heaven I come” with Song and Dance and Dance’; variations on ‘Vom Himmel Hoch’. While I found a few parts of this setting a bit dull, at least in the Cathedral’s acoustic, overall it was interesting. The trumpet declaimed the melody, with intermittent chords below it, then flutes varied it discursively. They were followed by variations interspersed between the manuals in a variety of registrations, the pedals not being consistently employed. A declamation on reeds was followed by frisky flute runs. This was quite a demanding piece, that ended in a great roar. We would not think of Farquhar as a composer for organ, but he obviously knew his way around it. The programme note states that Apperley worked with David Farquhar to prepare registrations for a performance of the work on Christmas Day in 2002.

American Wilbur Held (b.1914) was represented by a setting of the Christmas hymn ‘Of the Father’s love begotten’. The high-pitched opening was an unusual and appealing treatment of the theme. The variation introduced chords in a variety of harmonies. A most enchanting setting ended calmly.

Maughan Barnett was English, but moved to New Zealand in 1893, and to the position of organist and choirmaster at Wellington’s St. John’s Presbyterian Church two years later. He became the first city organist in 1908. He wrote music for a variety of important occasions, and was a notable figure in the city’s musical scene until his death in 1938. His ‘Introduction and Variations on the Christmas Hymn ‘Mendelssohn’’ (alias ‘Hark the Herald Angels Sing’) was quite a lengthy piece. It began loudly and robustly, in good Victorian or Edwardian style (its date of composition is not known).

There was plenty of decoration, full organ contrasting with more straightforward playing of the hymn tune. The first variation featured broken chords on two manuals. I must admit I was reminded of someone slurping porridge, interspersed with doing the same with their cup of tea (i.e. the higher pitched registrations).

The second variation had a background of rapidly running notes, while the melody itself was subject to some variation. The third began with bombastic chords, and put the tune into a minor key, while the fourth had the tune rendered more or less straight, on a reed stop over a quiet accompaniment. The next one had a bland registration of the melody with harmony on the pedals, but above that, lovely runs on a 2-foot registration.

The sixth and final variation began with quiet chords on reeds, the melody having varied harmonisations and decorations, moving into a full harmony treatment on diapasons with some upper variations, and finally a grand ending.

Apperley’s playing was impeccable and tasteful throughout the varied programme of considerable interest.

NZSO – incidentally, on Naxos…..

BEETHOVEN – Incidental Music to “Egmont”

Concert Aria “Ah! perfido!” Op.65 / Marches WoO 18/19

Madeleine Pierard (soprano)

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra

James Judd (conductor)

NAXOS 8.557264

MENDELSSOHN – Incidental Music to “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” (complete)

Jenny Wollerman / Pepe Becker (sopranos)

Varsity Voices / Nota Bene

New Zealand Symphony Orchestra

James Judd (conductor)

NAXOS 8.570794

There’s much to enjoy in both of these NZSO/Naxos recordings, perhaps more consistently so with the Beethoven than with the Mendelssohn, though the latter, for all its idiosyncrasies, still contains many felicities, especially with regard to the orchestral playing. Under the direction of its former chief conductor James Judd, the orchestra delivers highly-polished, fleet-fingered accounts of all of the music on both discs. Some will love the Mendelssohn recording, relishing the fusion of music with spoken text from Shakespeare’s play, while others may well be annoyed by the way that it’s been put together. Less problematical in that respect is the Beethoven disc, especially as the Naxos recording concentrates largely on the music and doesn’t follow the example set by its Decca predecessor from the 1970s. This featured George Szell and the Vienna Philharmonic, with soprano Pilar Lorengar, but also included several of the spoken melodramas adapted by Franz Grillparzer from Goethe’s original drama, including Egmont’s final stirring speech that precludes his execution and the “Victory Symphony”. The Naxos – rather lamely, in my view, though others may disagree – includes from the spoken drama only Egmont’s  account of his vision in a dream of the heroine Clärchen. This means that the “Victory Symphony” bursts in at the end as if out of nowhere – there’s no preamble, and certainly no sense of Egmont’s pending execution and his defiance of the forces of tyranny and repression.

So, of the two productions, it’s the Mendelssohn recording on which efforts are made to integrate the incidental music with the drama. As I’ve said, the playing by the NZSO is terrific throughout both discs, even if James Judd’s somewhat “neutral” conducting personality doesn’t deliver any great insights or searing revelations – although making the famous donkey’s calls in the overture sound more musical than asinine might be counted a good thing by some listeners. Throughout the well-known orchestra-only pieces – Overture, Scherzo, Intermezzo, Nocturne, Wedding March – one registers beautifully supple orchestral strings, both delicate and full-toned, along with nicely-flavoured winds and crisp, focused brass, with deft touches of percussion in appropriate places (though the timpani are too backwardly recorded for my taste). Especially good is the Intermezzo – superb wind-playing at the outset, and a wonderful dovetailing of parts, making for a real sense of swirling magic in the interweaving lines; and then a beguiling change of mood with the entry of the mechanicals to the strains of a march. And the Wedding March seems to gain in depth and amplification as it progresses, working up to something properly celebratory and swaggering by the end.

Voices there are aplenty, both singing and spoken – delightful and engaging are the singing voices, the two soloists both characterful and utterly different (some people are bound to like one or t’other!), and the choir voices beautifully elfin, the sounds they make as light as thistledown. Jenny Wollerman’s bright, infectiously tangy soprano has more of the solo work than Pepe Becker’s pure, relatively chaste tones, though for me it’s a case of “vive la difference!” when they follow one another in “Ye spotted snakes”, each voice creating its own “face” and character in turn. Perhaps the tempo in the latter is a bit fast for a “lullaby”, but the lightness of touch helps create a “faery” atmosphere, even if the effect is a tad breathless here and there – of course, “Through this house, give glimmering light….” conversely needs to urgently scamper, in accordance with the Overture’s bustling activity – as it does here, brilliantly.

Recordings can be curious beasts in the way the parts are put together – and this one verges on the bizarre, with the orchestra-only contributions set down in 2003, the solo and choral numbers taped in New Zealand during 2007, and the actors’ contributions two years later in England! Despite this the orchestral and vocal items have been convincingly married, and sound pretty much of a piece. A pity, therefore, that the spoken texts and melodramas don’t have anything like the same sense of integration with the whole, partly the result of being recorded by voices from the other side of the globe, with little or no thought given to creating a theatrical or dramatic atmosphere in the same acoustical space as the orchestra. Even given these discrepancies the matching of voices with music could have been managed far more sensitively – unfortunately, the actors are all too close to a microphone, and there’s no sense of interplay with the orchestral interjections (which is presumably what the composer wanted).  I quite like the voices themselves as such, though dramatically they’re a variable bunch, both Oberon and Titania getting full marks for impeccable diction and zero for dramatic evocation in their “Ill-met by moonlight, proud Titania” scene. The Puck is better, though he’s also too “present”, the voice again too close, and,like all the others, having little or no sense of being in “a wood, near Athens”.  Unfortunately, the over-riding formulas relating to international marketing of recordings probably would have told against the idea of using New Zealand actors to speak the stage roles – whereas I thought that, in this of all plays, a bit of local rustic spoken colour different to the “BBC Shakespeare” norm might well have added more interest to the idea of this disc and its conception.

Still, fascinating though the dialogues and melodramas are in their theatrical context, the music’s essentially the thing – and Mendelssohn, if not Shakespeare, is well-served by this beautifully-played and musically well-caught recording. Some people won’t, I’m sure, share my objections to those voices, either theatrically or recording-wise, while others won’t think it matters in the context of the whole. When all’s said and done, it’s a disc I’m glad to own. Speaking of context, for people who know Beethoven’s Egmont Overture, but haven’t heard any of the rest of the incidental music inspired by Goethe’s drama, the other Naxos NZSO disc here will be well worth investigating. Again, the production involves the use of spoken word, but, unlike the “completeness” of the Mendelssohn disc, here only one of the spoken melodramas  makes a brief appearance, to accompany the sequence of Egmont’s dream and his vision of Clärchen, his heroine-lover. It’s a shame that we don’t get at least some of Egmont’s final speech leading up to his execution and the final Victory Symphony – compare the Szell Decca recording at this point for a proper scalp-prickling theatrical effect at the end, with the music rounding off the drama as the composer presumably intended.

In remarking that, as with the Mendelssohn recording, there’s little “atmosphere” generated by the placement of the speaker’s voice on the Beethoven Naxos recording (again, simply too microphone-bound, and seeming not to “share the space” with the musicians), I must point out that neither does the older Decca recording capture the spoken voice with any great dramatic verisimilitude – don’t people who make these recordings know anything about theatre? Fortunately, (and again, as on the Mendelssohn disc) the orchestral sound has plenty of impact, focus and colour, and the bright, sonorous tones of Madeleine Pierard’s soprano have been well-caught by the engineers, both in the two “Egmont” arias and in the dramatic stand-alone concert aria “Ah! perfido!”

The “Egmont” Overture has, of course, one of the most arresting opening chords in all music; and James Judd and the NZSO players here achieve a fine beginning – sharp attack, then big-boned orchestral tone, followed by a beautiful woodwind rejoined, and then a renewed orchestral surge, with rich wind chordings. Judd gets a real sense of expectation in the progression via the repeated descending phrase leading to the allegro, where there’s again fiery attack and plenty of tone – though the strings don’t fix their teeth insufficiently upon the speeded-up version of the opening, repeated-note motto,and sound a bit too well-mannered (there’s even a hint of a diminuendo on one of the last notes of the phrase first time round, weakening the effect – those notes surely ought to be hurled at the listener like thunderbolts!). But Judd makes amends with the “Victory Symphony” at the end, encouraging on-the-spot attack from all departments and getting a heady rush of musical adrenalin as a result.

As Clärchen, Madeleine Pierard sings splendidly, never letting us forget that she is not actually a soldier – others such as Birgit Nilsson or Pilar Lorengar (each heard on previous recordings) might, in “Die Trommel geruhret”, depict the cut-and-thrust of battle and the pulsating of blood through the veins more excitingly and viscerally; but with Pierard we hear a young woman’s attractive and eager voice (singing a different note on the first “sondergleichen” to the singers in the other recordings, which could be in the edition she used), more feminine than Valkrie-like, in her evocation of the conflict and dreams of glory.

The following “Entr’acte” vividly delineates interactions between the citizens of Brussels, arguments leading to violence, while the succeeding episode accompanies the appearance of Count Egmont with his soldiers, to restore the peace, the music’s nobility of utterance reminiscent of similar themes in Beethoven’s opera “Fidelio” – both of these exerpts are beautifully realized by Judd and the orchestra. Madeleine Pierard returns for “Freudvoll und leidvoll”, and sings it as well and committedly as I’ve heard anybody, beautifully negotiating the somewhat treacherous vocal descent at the end. Another “Entr’acte” echoes Clärchen’s “Freudvoll und leidvoll”, before the music changes to a stirring march, again reminding us of “Fidelio” and the entrance of the tyrant Pizzaro, the drama concerned with the Dulke of Alva’s plans to arrest Count Egmont. A tragic note is struck at the beginning of the Fourth Entr’acte, where Egmont is arrested, and Clärchen attempts to rouse the citizens to help resist the Duke and her beloved’s arrest. Act V draws from Beethoven music of great melancholy and anxiety as Clärchen awaits word of Egmont’s fate, then takes poison at news of his imminent execution.

And so to the final scene, in Egmont’s prison, where the hero sends a final message to his beloved, before sleeping and dreaming of her (“Süsser Schlaf!”), uttering words of joy at her visitation to his thoughts, before calmly resigning himself to his fate at the executioner’s hands. The ensuing “Victory Symphony” sweeps in (on its own, alas – no stirring words beforehand), and the drama concludes in a blaze of fervent heroic triumph.

As if by compensation, several additional items round out the disc, two marches which the composer called “music for horses”, written for the Archduke Anton, the elder brother of Beethoven’s patron, the Archduke Rudolph; and the famous concert aria “Ah! perfido”, Beethoven’s setting of a passage in Metastasio’s drama “Achille in Sciro”, composed in 1796. Both the marches (great fun!) and the aria considerably add to the recording’s attractions – in “Ah! perfido!” Judd encourages a lean, athletic sound, and Madeleine Pierard tears into the opening declamations with intensity and gusto, carrying these qualities right throughout the first section, depicting the anger and frustration of a jilted lover, including a plea to the gods for vengeance, and then a change of heart, in favor of mercy. Perhaps the central aria-like section “Per pieta, non dirmi addio” lacks a little light and shade on the singer’s part, but when the agitations return, at “Ah, crudel!” Pierard again commands the music, her voice firing and sparking as she rails against the cruelty of fate, the coloratura giving her little signs of trouble. Though stylish-sounding throughout, I felt that orchestra and conductor could have made something more gutsy of the aria’s instrumental conclusion, the effect here being “contained” instead of properly full-blooded, more classical than romantic. Perhaps Judd didn’t want to overload the performance with anything that smacked of anachronistic force of expression, despite the overt emotionalism of the text. Something tells me, however, that the composer would probably not have minded any such “excess of feeling” in the least!