Tag: vocal

Monteverdi gets keen, sharp-edged and exciting treatment

Posted on by Peter Mechen

Claudio MONTEVERDI – Vespers of the Blessed Virgin of 1610
New Zealand Festival 2016

Concerto Italiano
Rinaldo Alessandrini (director)

Michael Fowler Centre,
Wellington

Saturday, 27th February 2016

There was certainly a festive spirit around and about the Michael Fowler Centre leading up to the performance on Saturday evening of Claudio Monteverdi’s resplendent Vespers of 1610, to be given by the highly-acclaimed visiting baroque ensemble Concerto Italiano with their director Rinaldo Alessandrini.

The performance fulfilled all expectations, managing even to transcend the venue’s drab, determinedly secular vistas and ambiences. My last encounter with this music “live” having been in the atmospheric precincts of St.Mary of the Angels Church here in Wellington, it took a while for me to supersede my resonant expectations and recontextualise the sounds made by Concerto Italiano – here, a far tighter, more focused sound-picture, emphasizing clarity and transparency ahead of any layered ecclesiastical context of listening.

Of course the focus and brilliance of the singing and playing drew me into the group’s very different sound-world before too long – and even though I would still have preferred a church setting in which to experience this work, I was ultimately carried away by the beauty, wonderment, excitement and depth of feeling of it all – things which go to make up the full force of the festival experience!

Having said all of this, it’s ironic that this work by Monteverdi, regarded as one of the cornerstones of the baroque vocal-and-instrumental repertoire, and on a par with similar iconic masterpieces such as Bach’s B Minor Mass and Handel’s Messiah, was written by its composer more as a kind of showcase of his composing talents than a public expression of personal faith. In fact, it appears to have been performed only once in the composer’s lifetime, and then, not for over three hundred years afterwards.

At the age of forty-three, Monteverdi wanted a change from being in the service of the Duke of Mantua, and so arranged for the publication of his Vespers in 1610 to advertise his wares as a composer. It didn’t land him the job he REALLY wanted (Master of Music at the Papal Chapel in Rome), but it helped get him something nearly as good – Master of Music at the prestigious St. Mark’s Church in Venice. The rest, as they say in the classics, is history.

So the 1610 Vespers represent Monteverdi as a composer of a number of different styles of sacred music which he had produced during his time in Mantua, and here put in the form of a single liturgical service. The scholarly arguments over what ought to go into the Vespers from Monteverdi’s publication for whatever  structural or liturgical reasons have raged about this music for years, ever since the work was taken up once again in the 1930s.  The upshot of all this is that there seems to be no one “correct” version of the work, and that every performance is therefore, as expressed by the writer of an article in the festival program about the music’s history, “a unique experience”.

Though comparisons with the previous performance I had heard in Wellington six years ago (referred to above) are largely academic for all of the above reasons, each one on its own terms proclaimed the music a masterpiece with stunning and often breath-taking conviction. From the earlier performance I continue to cherish things such as the performances of the two soprano soloists, who remain hors concurs in my experience – good though the female singers of Concerto Italiano were, neither put across the music’s beauty, colour, sensuality and even erotic impulse, to the same extent as did Pepe Becker and Jayne Tankersley in St.Mary of the Angels, especially in the vocal concerto Pulchra es, as well as in the Psalmus 147 Lauda Jerusalem, with interactions and dovetailing highlighting what the remainder of the singers were doing most delightfully.

My other enduring memory of the earlier performance relates to its physical setting, allowing a wonderful and engaging immediacy in overall effect for we in the audience/congregation – for me, greater than was to be had in the MFC – and a more atmospheric sound-picture in St.Mary’s giving both vocal and instrumental tones splendid resonance, as well as allowing for especially stunning antiphonal effects (though Concerto Italiano’s off-stage efforts were exquisite and magical in their own way).

So now, having satisfied my urge to relive some of the more memorable aspects of the work’s previous Wellington performance, I can now at last turn to the real point of this review and consider Concerto Italiano’s stimulating and satisfying rendition of the music. As I’ve said, it took me some time to get on the performance’s wavelength, but as each section took its turn to unfold, I found myself more and more drawn into the music’s world and that of the group’s strongly-focused realizations. Throughout the particularly arresting section featuring the motet Nigra sum, words taken from the biblical Song of Solomon and pertaining to the Virgin Mary, I was spellbound – here sung by a tenor and accompanied by a pair of theorbos (instruments similar to lutes but with lengthy fretboards and strings), the music achieved an intimate, heartfelt quality, ranging from passionate declamation to raptly-voiced wonderment on the part of the singer.

Though not quite matching the élan and physicality of the earlier performance I’d heard of Pulchra es, the singers gave their exuberant flourishes sufficient energy to make a stirring impression, before throwing themselves into the complexities of the coloratura of Psalm 121, Laetatus sum, the music’s rollicking pyrotechnics concluding with a Gloria. The men’s voices then purposefully tackled another motet, Duo Seraphim, the singers relishing the piece’s fantastically rapid note-repetition, before combining with the rest of the ensemble to deliver the Psalm 126 with grandeur at first, and then energy, as the music switched engagingly to three-four time – a great first-half closer!

We enjoyed the onstage/offstage echoes of the tenors’ exchanges during the motet Audi coelum, the music having a luscious, exotic “feel” about it, a mood which the entry of additional voices and a quicker tempo set upon its head in the tumult which followed, the harmonies of the music taking on a lovely ongoing, “rolling” quality. And I so enjoyed the deftness of the music’s interweaving during the following Lauda, Jerusalem, Dominum, the syncopated figurations generating tremendous “schwung” – well, its Venetian equivalent, anyhow – finishing with a hymn-like grandeur of utterance, again, with a rolling, surging “Amen” that was a thrill to experience.

What gorgeously rich harmonies were floated, hymn-like, for our pleasure at the beginning of Ave maris stella! And how tenderly both strings and brass by turns contributed gently-voiced, dance-like reprises to the verses! This was, however, but a prelude to the splendors of the Magnificat which concluded the work, beginning with grand declamations and passages of florid vocal decoration intensifying the radiance of the opening words, and concluding with a Gloria which built upwards from an amazing “statement-and echo” sequence between two tenors into a mighty peroration from both singers and instrumentalists, effectively giving the lie to my opening impression of a certain smallness of scale from the brass. The trombones, especially, contributed a truly awe-inspiring sonority to the panoply of sounds ringing through the auditorium.

At the work’s end Alessandrini and his singers and players were treated to a standing ovation, as well they might have been – a truly festive occasion!

Palliser Viols and Pepe Becker enjoyed at St Andrew’s lunchtime concert

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

‘Curious Fancies’; pieces for viols, and viols and voices by Pierre Phalèse, Orlando Gibbons, Alfonso Ferrabosco, Tobias Hume, Thomas Tallis, William Byrd, John Jenkins

Palliser Viols (Lisa Beech, Sophia Acheson, Jane Brown, Andrea Oliver, Robert Oliver), with Pepe Becker (soprano)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Wednesday, 9 December 2015, 12.15pm

I find that I reviewed Palliser Viols at St. Andrew’s as recently as September. However, although some of the composers were the same, the music was not duplicated, and we had this time the addition of a singer, not named in the programme.

This time the programme was not clearly set out, so it was not always easy to tell which piece we were on. The interesting programme notes did not discuss the composers in the order in which we heard them, which was a little confusing. Nevertheless, it was good to have the words of most of the songs printed.

The opening Pavane Lesquercarde and La Roque Gailliard were the only pieces not by English-born or resident composers (Alfonso Ferrabosco coming into the latter category). Phalèse was Flemish, and these dances were from Antwerpener Tanzbuch, published in 1583. They were very pleasing pieces, and although there were one or two flaws in the playing, the ensemble was well-balanced and skilful.

Gibbons’s song The Silver Swan is perhaps his best-known secular song today, and its simple beauty never fails to delight. It followed another of his songs: O that the Learned Poets, whose amusing words included the following, wishing that poets ‘Would not consume good wit in hateful rhyme’.

A Fantasy for four viols by Ferrabosco was followed by further songs by Gibbons, from Hymns and Songs for the Church, published by George Wither in 1623. A straightforward ‘Song III’ had the words ‘Blest be the God of Israel, For he his people bought…’   while the next, ‘Song IIII’ began ‘Now in the Lord my heart doth pleasure take…’ This was very engaging, both melodically and harmonically. As the programme note pointed oiut, the language of these hymns and songs is not highly poetic, but rather ‘deliberately ‘common’ in its expression’.   The third, ‘Song XXXIV’ is titled ‘The Song of Angels. While the words are not used today, the tune is frequently used in churches, with its original number and title, to Charles Wesley’s words ‘Forth in thy name, O Lord, I go’; there are other words set to it, too.

(Pedants like me note that the words said ‘Thus angels sung and thus sing we’, and ‘If angels sung at Jesus’ birth’ whereas we would consider this a misuse, and that the word should be ‘sang’.)

This last song particularly was a demonstration of the skill of Robert Oliver; accompanying these melodies on the bass viol, there is the difficulty of playing the chords on a six-stringed instrument. The instrument came into its own in two pieces by Tobias Hume, from Captain Humes Musicall Humors, of 1605. The first was ‘A Humorous Pavan’. Robert Oliver’s programme note says ‘all puns intended’. The Pavan roamed through different moods, with lots of tricky work for fingers and bow. Specifically, it introduced pizzicato and col legno (hitting the strings with the back of the bow), as instructed by Hume. The four Humors (melancholic, phlegmatic, choleric and sanguine) were traversed, and the piece had humour in the other sense as well.

The other consort members returned for a solemn In Nomine by Thomas Tallis, and a lively Fantasy a 4 by William Byrd.

Two more Gibbons songs followed, the first a setting of a poem by John Donne (though considerable liberties were taken with the text): ‘Ah, dear heart’, which was short and sweet, and ‘What is our Life?’ written by Sir Walter Raleigh as he sat in his condemned cell. The latter was, understandably, mournful. A final song, with mainly bass viol accompaniment was an anonymous ballad to the tune of ‘All in a garden green’, and then Fantasy no.6 by John Jenkins on that tune, employing all the instruments.

The songs all revealed a wonderful marriage of words and music, and the concert was one of delights as well as of Curious Fancies.

 

Sparkling performances from superbly schooled Youth Choir

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Wellington Youth Choir

Te Quiero (‘To adore, to love, to have faith’)

Directed by Hazel Fenemor and Jared Corbett (accompanist)

Music included by Stanford, Childs, Chilcott, Mendelssohn, Mark Sirett, Alberto Favero, Gershwin and traditional songs

Cathedral of the Sacred Heart, Hill Street

Friday 9 October, 7:30 pm

The name given to this concert, Te quiero, was borrowed from the song that ended the first half. It was an attractive, slightly sentimental song by Argentinian multi-talented musician, Alberto Favero. A nice title for a concert as a general sentiment, though its relevance to most of the items seemed a bit indiscriminate.

There was a reasonable audience, part of which seemed to comprise a sort of claque or bunch of groupies who led vociferous, rock-concert-style clapping and shouting at every opportunity. A spirited and enlivening backing that surely encouraged the singers, under the gifted Hazel Fenemor, to invest their performances with the energy, zeal, precision and polish that characterised all their singing.

Even the singing of the first item, a Latin motet of pious character, inspired wild enthusiasm. And though I applauded in a more restrained fashion, I felt the same as the fans about the splendid singing of Stanford’s ‘Beati quorum via…’, literally, ‘Blessed (are those) whose path is undefiled (and the rest is ‘who walk according to the law of the Lord’). His delightful setting gave space to each section of the choir to display its virtues, while finally blending beautifully in full ensemble.

David Childs, US-based, New Zealand composer’s ‘O magnum mysterium’ (which doesn’t refer to an inscrutable, outsize champagne bottle) employed the choir much more in ensemble mode, again a cappella and again full of energy and clarity.

That ended the Latin, and Bob Chilcott’s arrangement of the Londonderry Air, with Jared Corbett at the piano, followed; it was gently paced, with sopranos leading the canon-like opening through each section of the choir, in attractive harmony.

The concert’s structure was carefully devised, with interesting variety, avoiding the risk of unduly upsetting any audience members with musical prejudices. So Schubert came next; Will King sang ‘Ich frage keine Blume’ (Der Neugierige) from Die schöne Müllerin. An attractive unforced voice that carried comfortably over Corbett’s piano and across the church. (One Schubert song is never enough).

Mendelssohn didn’t dabble in Latin either and his motet ‘Ehre sei Gott in der Höhe’ (or, in the Gloria of the Mass: ‘Gloria in excelsis Deo’). Balance between men and women of the choir shifted interestingly; and it was an opportunity for several solo voices from the choir to come forward: Kristin Li, Hannah van Dorp, Joel Miller and Will King. These and almost all the solo singers impressed me with their ease of delivery and awareness of the demands of articulation and integration with a larger whole.

From this point familiar composer names diminished. Mark Sirett is an admired Canadian composer, from the Acadian region – Nova Scotia, New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island, or part thereof. One of his very popular choral pieces is ‘Ce beau printemps’, a setting of a poem the great 16th century French poet Pierre de Ronsard, conducted by Jared Corbett: another quiet, quasi-religious, a cappella motet with wide musical range, it was engaging.

Then the eponymous song, ‘Te quiero’. The programme seemed to suggest that its meanings were variously as in the heading; but ‘quiero’ is not the infinitive form, but the first person singular and according to my limited grasp of Spanish means ‘I love’ or ‘I adore you’ or perhaps, ‘I have faith in you’.
Anyway, it’s by Argentinian composer Alberto Favero, a multi-talented musician who’s very popular; this a cappella song involved women’s voices prominently, and two soloists, soprano Samantha Morris and bass William Briscoe. An attractive setting, with a touch of sentimentality, or perhaps just sentiment; the word that came to me at the moment was ‘very nice’.

After the interval the singers took their places all round the nave and down the aisles, creating effects that would have varied hugely according to one’s place in the church. They sang the Norwegian ‘Jesus gjør meg stille’ (Jesus makes me silent) starting with some very remote and quiet voices but suddenly they burst into full voice. Bass Phill Houlihan took a solo part and the men maintained a drone which led to more complex, climactic polyphony, slowly fading away with women’s voices in unison. The effect was enchanting.

The concert continued with more traditional items, including another Norwegian song, Northern Lights, sopranos and altos prominent, dynamics beautifully controlled. The Beatles’ ‘I want to hold your hand’ was sung by Lizzy Olliver with guitar accompaniment. The Traditional spiritual ‘This little light of mine’ brought Corbett back to guide singers though this slow, dreamy song, featuring alto Jenna Cook. Christianna Stewart sang Gershwin’s ‘Someone to watch over me’, with vocal subtlety, wispy, ethereal, that rather undid me.

‘I want it that way’ was coloured by a barbershop, a cappella quality; as I should have remarked much earlier, under their conspicuously talented director Hazel Fenemor, they produced brilliant vocal colour and character, ensemble was excellent and thus diction was invariably clear, and I choose the Backstreet Boys’ 1999 hit, to draw attention to these qualities.

And finally, another splendid Broadway classic, Gershwin’s hit from Funny Face, ‘S’wonderful’, complete with solo alto voice Lee Stuart, Eddie Kerr (snare drum) and Phill Houlihan (bass).

This was an admirable concert, quality and variety excellently judged, hardly any piece that was not really worth performing and made worth listening to by this splendidly schooled choir.

NZSM Voice-Students at St Andrew’s

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Arias from Opera, and Songs
New Zealand School of Music: Vocal students of Richard Greager,
Jenny Wollerman, and Margaret Medlyn,
with Mark Dorrell (piano)

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Tuesday 6 October 2015, 12.15pm

A varied programme was provided, both in terms of the styles of voices, and of the composers whose music was sung.  The items were all solos, unlike the equivalent programme two years ago, when ensembles were included in the programme.  There was a nice mixture of the familiar and the less familiar.

Each singer sang two or three (or in one case, four) items.  I have grouped the items by each singer, but in most cases they sang one song and returned later in the programme to perform more. It was a pity that no programme notes, words or translations of the songs were provided.

Luka Venter was, sadly, the only male on the programme.  His light tenor voice was suitable for the Monteverdi opening aria, ‘Vi ricorda o boschi ombrosi’ from L’Orfeo, which he sang in robust style, with clear words. Despite this not being a big voice, it was used well, amounting to an effective presentation.

Later Luka sang the sublime and well-known ‘Morgen’ by Richard Strauss.  It receivedappropriate phrasing and emphasis.  I couldn’t help being reminded of Renée Fleming’s wonderful performance with the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra recently.  Here, it was sensitively sung and played, but perhaps it required a fuller voice.

However, Luka must be congratulated for tackling the greatest variety of songs (and languages) in the programme, including the earliest one, the Monteverdi.  Finally he sang Manuel de Falla’s ‘Seguidilla Murciana’ from Siete Canciones Populares Españolas.  While sung accurately and with panache and commitment, the voice was not sufficiently mellow or sultry for this song.

Next we heard from Hannah Jones, the first of the five women, all of whom were sopranos. Singing Donizetti’s ‘Chacun le sait’ from La fille du régiment, she was not always spot on with intonation in the difficult, high introductory part of the aria.  Later on, the high notes were very secure.  Her sound was very pleasing, and pronunciation and enunciation of words were excellent, as was the case with all the singers.  A little more variation of tone would have added to a dramatic performance.

Her second piece was a song by Rachmaninoff, which translates as ‘Oh, never sing to me again’.  She conveyed the Russian language and idiom well, and the drama of the song; this was a very fine performance.

Elyse Hemara, like Hannah Jones, had been noteworthy in the School of Music’s  operas this year – Dido and Aeneas, and L’enfant et les Sortilèges (Elyse in much smaller roles).  Her voice has a lovely quality throughout.  Expressive singing was enhanced by excellent words.  Her singing was very accurate and ‘Una voce poco fa’ from Il Barbiere di Siviglia by Rossini demonstrated her considerable range.

Later she sang three short songs by Ned Rorem, a contemporary American composer notable particularly for the huge number of songs he has written.  ‘Stopping by woods on a snowy evening’, ‘Ferry me across the water’ and ‘Love’ featured clear words, while tone and presentation were excellent.  Elyse appeared to know the songs really well, so that she could concentrate on communicating them to the listeners.  Her tone was attractive, and her vowels immaculate.

She was followed by Alexandra Gandionco, who gave us first ‘Mondnacht’ from Liederkreis Op. 39 of Robert Schumann.  This singer has a pure, open sound which is gorgeous.  After the excesses (sometimes) of opera, this was a beautiful pool of calm delight.  It illustrated what I had just been reading about soprano (and mezzo) Christa Ludwig, that there is an opera voice and a lied voice.

Her second song was from Gounod’s Faust: ‘Faites-lui mes aveux’.  This did not suit her as well as did the lied, and her tone was a little breathy, though it improved.  Her top notes were very good.

Rebecca Howie sang Schumann’s ‘Widmung’ from Myrthen with feeling and gusto, but intonation was occasionally slightly wayward.  Just a little rubato here and there would have made the performance seem less breathless.   Her next piece was the lovely Mozart aria ‘Ach, ich fühl’s’ from Die Zauberflöte.  A pleasing tone was evident, but again, some notes were not quite nailed.  As with her lied, the performance was a little mechanical, as though she was not right ‘inside’ the music (another Ludwig quote), and having to think about it too much.  Nevertheless, she had a variety of tone colours.

Katherine McIndoe was ‘L’enfant’ in the recent opera, and performed extremely well.  Today’s first offering was also in the French language, though written by Benjamin Britten: ‘Parade’ from Les Illuminations.  The drama of the poem (by Rimbaud) was in her vocal tone and in her face.  She was thoroughly involved in that drama, and her French pronunciation was excellent.  Katherine then sang ‘Summertime’ from Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess.  It’s a song heard frequently, but here it was beautiful.

Katherine was the only performer to choose three twentieth-century songs – or was the last one twenty-first century?  It was by recently-retired Professor of Music at Otago University, John Drummond, with words by well-known comedy playwright, Roger Hall.  It was entitled ‘Prima Donna’.  There have been other songs that spoofed opera themes and the role of the soprano heroine, but I don’t recall any of them being as intelligently funny as this one!   

Katherine’s soprano wished to make a living from dying, and demonstrated this energetically, including with a rather convincing knife.The music was appropriately operatic, and the excesses involved were hardly greaterthan they are in some operas.  The humorous words were very clever.  Katherine sang in a thoroughly believable way, with great timing and panache.  The piece was difficult and demanding, and was given a very musical and entertaining performance.

Brilliant writing made this parody of opera heroines a great way to end the concert. Mark Dorrell’s accompaniments were sensitive or dramatic as occasion required.  He was never too loud for the singers, but had plenty of spirit when opportunities arose.

Wellington G&S with another hit in funny, well-sung The Gondoliers

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Wellington G & S Light Opera Company

The Gondoliers by Arthur Sullivan and William Gilbert
Musical director: Hugh McMillan; stage director: Wayne Morris; producer: Stuart Gordon

Lead singers: William McElwee, Orene Tiai, Laura Loach, Charlotte Gartrell, John Goddard, Malinda Di Leva, Georgia Jamieson Emms, Mark Bobb, Chris Whelan,

The Opera House

Saturday 19 September, 7:30 pm

G&S goes on and on. Hard to think of another composer whose music in a certain genre has acquired such a single-minded following from so many, and of those, one suspects, some don’t particularly enjoy any other kind of opera or musical theatre, or even any other kind of classical music. Offenbach has no comparable cult status in France; nor Lehár or Kálmán in Austria; nor any one composer of zarzuela in Spain. Though in all cases, the relevant numbers of operettas is considerably larger than the usual
canon of G&S.

The G&S repertoire is rather small after all. Out of the total of fourteen operettas on which the two men collaborated, only about eight can be regarded as being in the standard repertory. Compare with the far greater number from each of the many prominent operetta composers of France, Austria, Germany. The number of extant zarzuelas is reputed to exceed 1000.

The Gondoliers, which was the last successful collaboration between composer and librettist, was well chosen for its contemporary New Zealand relevance. It deals with one unusual issue – the novelty of the introduction of the limited liability law – but also normal social issues of class, the nobility, honours, republicanism, the question of equality – everything but the flag; perhaps the flag controversy can be seen hovering just below the balustrade. As important for the success of the piece, apart from the full ration of splendid tunes, was the conventionally contrived plot involving misalliances, a missing heir to a Ruritanian throne, which is temporarily shared, giving Gilbert’s legal background rein for mockery; by shifting the setting for gentle satire of English royal and parliamentary institutions to Venice and an obscure, mythical central European state, they avoided censorship dangers.

The interpretation, staging and design were presumably the collaborative work of producer Stuart Gordon and stage director Wayne Morris.

After the overture that offered assurance that the players, mostly from Orchestra Wellington, would support the singers pretty professionally, the chorus confirmed a well-coached ensemble. And the chorus remained a delight throughout the evening, even taking account of moments later on when the voices of men and women of the chorus parted company. Under musical director Hugh McMillan, balances between orchestra, chorus and soloists were conspicuously comfortable, and the pace and expressive character remained lively and sensitive.

The stage revealed an expansive grand canal with stylized buildings, hinting rather shyly at Venice, rising from it. Some of the solo singing at the beginning showed a little uneasiness; but William McElwee and Orene Tiai as gondoliers Marco and Giuseppe, grew steadily into their roles… as did the two maidens, Gianetta and Tessa (Laura Loach and Charlotte Gartrell) to whom they would shortly be betrothed. The four sometimes operated better as a quartet than separately, for example in the ‘Then one of us will be a queen’.

The entry of the visiting Spanish Duke and Duchess (John Goddard and Malinda Di Leva) with their lovely daughter Casilda (Georgia Jamieson Emms) soon embedded the story in serious improbability, and this was a strength that enlivened the performance in the true spirit of absurdity; Goddard’s early vocal unevenness settled after a little while.

The farcical element helped obscure weaknesses in the singing by the less experienced singers; on the other hand none of the nonsense obscured the fact that there were excellent performances, by Emms, and by McElwee and Tiai, who found themselves sharing the job of temporary monarch. The important role of the Grand Inquisitor, Don Alhambra, was splendidly carried by Chris Whelan, without excessive overacting, displayed brilliantly in his ‘I stole the prince … no possible doubt whatever’, which reveals the crux of the problem that dominates the drama.

The denouement sees the temporary dual-king(s) deposed, to their great relief, and the heir to the Baratarian throne, is revealed as Luiz, tenor Mark Bobb, a recent arrival in New Zealand. One of the most vivid figures on the stage, he sang excellently with a fast, disciplined vibrato. In the first act he had acted as ducal orchestra, displaying finesse on the side-drum to herald the Duke’s arrival. He and Emms – lovers, unaware of how things will evolve – sang a charming duet, ‘There was a time’.

The stage scene at Act II is the interior of the royal Barataria palace, quite an imposing affair with grand staircase set to a curious perspective. Giuseppe’s amusing solo about the troubles of a king, up-dated, had the edge on Marco’s ‘Take a pair of sparkling eyes’, pretty as that was.

The action proceeds with an energetic Spanish dance and then the Grand Inquisitor’s (Chris Whelan) classic show-stopper, ‘There lived a king’, showing how equality and republicanism are quite absurd. These moments are usually furnished with localised political lyrics, this time by the singer himself, which I have permission to reproduce here. The singing was accompanied by a series of pertinent illustrations of many of the leading comic figures involved in the following narrative.

In southern oceans far away
A strange perversion once took sway
The people wanted greater say
And MMP resulted

It meant that none could rule alone
Without some partners on the throne
And compromise would be the tone
At least that was the theory.

Soon parties formed in every hue
Of red and blue and yellow too
So every wretched fellow knew
Their interests were cared for.

But parties needed ways to share
The power so that all seemed fair
So to the top of every tree
Promoted everybody

Now it is clear and plain to see
That ranking colleagues equally
Will put an end to rivalry,
Promoting everybody.    

Soon ministers were everywhere
With rank and perks in equal share
But trade and finance ranked the same
As arts and social housing

Like Judith Collins some were bad
Or Gerry Brownlee slightly mad
Though voter faith did gently sag
The PM seemed delighted.

The coalition held its course.
Dave Seymore was a trifling force
And Peter Dunne was a resource
Among the minor minions.

So party leaders you might meet
In twos and threes in every street,
Professing with no little heat
Their various opinions.

Now that’s a sight you couldn’t beat
Two party spokesmen in each street,
Professing with no little heat
Their various opinions.

The end can easily be guessed,
When skill no longer is the test
Soon personality was best
For getting voter traction

The voters favoured charm and wit
And ranked good hair above true grit
Soon one emerged that seemed to fit
In Southland and Kaitaia

The voters turned to one who seemed
Averse to baubles though he preened
Through spluttering indignant schemes,
Was Winston made kingmaker.

In short whoever you may be
To this conclusion you’ll agree
When everyone is somebodee,
Soon no one’s anybody.

Now that’s as plain as plain can be,
To this conclusion we agree:
When everyone is somebodee,
Soon no one’s anybody.

And there were various references to current political scandals scattered through the score, for example the ennoblement of The Duke of Plaza-Toro dotcom.

While the build-up to the denouement goes along nicely, as the former nurse is finally persuaded to tell the court that neither of the joint-temporary kings is the heir, no imperishable musical hits are to be found in the last scenes, apart from a reprise of the big dance scene.

The costumes were elaborate, the sets ingenious and appropriate, and the direction generally lively and credible, paying some attention to the traditions of 1880s comic opera, and today’s tendency sometimes to do violence to the original conception and to impose our own interpretation. There was nothing at which one could take offence in this.

It had been see already in Lower Hutt, Kapiti and Whanganui, so that any teething troubles would have been sorted out and word spread of its virtues. Thus there was a good audience at the Opera House.

 

Young Musicians Programme in another impressive concert supported by Music Futures

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

New Zealand School of Music Young Musicians Programme
Presented by Music Futures

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Sunday 13 September, 3 pm

This concert, a showcase for a large number of the students who have participated in Victoria University’s Young Musicians Programme was the second in the space of six weeks.

It was facilitated by Music Futures. After the Friends of the NZSO wound up, Valerie Rhodes was approached by an orchestra member with the suggestion of an organisation to support young musicians. That led to the formation of Music Futures in 2011 and their first concert in August 2012.

This year Music Futures offered to fund a concert for the Young Musicians Programme at St. Andrew’s on 13 September, giving access to a venue they wouldn’t otherwise have used. In addition to those promoted by Music Futures the YMP continues to put on a programme of public concerts throughout the year.

Although we had been led to believe that the YMP was not as warmly supported by the university as it might have been, Dr Robert Legg assures us that YMP is viewed as critically important by the university and by NZSM, and that significant resources, in terms of staff time, are devoted to the programme.

Contributions from a wide range of NZSM staff, including Legg (who had hosted Sunday’s concert), Rodger Fox, Dave Lisik, Inbal Megiddo, Michael Norris, Debbie Rawson, and centrally the New Zealand String Quartet, make YMP possible. NZSM director Euan Murdoch is also very interested in the YMP, having founded one of its predecessor organisations, the Victoria Academy fifteen years ago; he was
present at the concert.

The tutors involved at this concert were Simeon Broom, Margaret Guldborg, Reuben Chin and Debbie Rawson, Jonny Avery, Linden Loader, Ludwig Treviranus and Rachel Church.

Some of these players I’d heard in a concert at the School of Music on Queen’s Birthday weekend; others at the Music Futures concert on 26 July.

I had begun this review intending to avoid naming individuals, but that proved impossible; the challenge then was to find some rationale for mentioning some and not others. I have not really succeeded as the reasons for mentioning certain ones, especially where they appeared more than once, have been so varied. To those omitted, my apologies: all are equally praiseworthy.

The first group, two violins and piano, had played at the June concert the same pieces by Godard as they played here, now the Godard Trio (Tony Xie, Peter Gjelsten and Keiran Lewellen). In my review of 1 June I noted that Benjamin Godard was a gifted French composer who lived a short life in the late 19th century, famous for the lovely Berceuse from his 1888 opera, Jocelyn. The two movements played from his Six Duettini supported his reputation as a charming melodist, and again they captured the flowing rhythm and gentle melodies.

Next was an ensemble of five violins and two cellos, some of whom reappeared in different formations later. Their interesting choice was two of Lilburn’s four Canzonas which have recently emerged to become among his most genuinely popular pieces, especially the first. However, these performances, including the very brief No 2, helped confirm the charm of the whole set. Though one or two players looked no more than seven or eight, the support of the septet did the music proud. Eliana Dunford, lead violinist, reappeared later in the Rachmaninov; Nick Majic played again in the Saint-Saëns and the two Lewellen boys had other appearances too.

Two saxophones represented the woodwind department (though there’s not much wood in saxophones). First a March by Prokofiev, which created a rather lazy atmosphere, though there was nothing lazy about the performance; it was followed by ‘Lazy Coconut Tree’, a calypso tune which exhibited rather more energy than the Prokofiev. Both Annabel Sik and Stella Lu were surprisingly comfortable in their performances.

A sextet of guitars produced a coherent performance of a tune by Michael Jackson, ‘Billie Jean’, revealing a wide range of abilities, some doing little more than tapping the body of the instrument. That’s not fair: under Jonny Avery, all contributed to the attractive ensemble.

Linden Loader led a vocal sextet through one of Rossini’s Soirées musicales, ‘La Pesca’.  Not much to do with fishing, it’s a nocturnal love duet sung on the sea shore, and the duet for soprano and mezzo was happily transformed for a group of attractive young voices.

Then, straddling the interval, came five pianists, all tutored by Ludwig Treviranus. Brendan Looi played a sweet little Intermezzo by a small-time Australian composer Robert Adam Horne, who came to New Zealand later; he wrote in a Victorian salon style: charming. Patrick Grice, who’d played cello in the Lilburn pieces, played a Sarabande by another obscure composer, this time one born in New Zealand: Hugo Vernon Anson. If that made little impression, Grice gave a fine performance later in the Saint-Saëns piano trio. Stella Lu had earlier played the saxophone; here she made an accomplished job of the third movement of Beethoven’s Sonata, Op 10 No 1.

The next two were the brothers Xie – Perry and Tony, both very young: Perry, thoughtfully in the first movement of Mozart’s Sonata in C; it’s sometimes called the Sonata Semplice, because it’s easy for beginners (but hard for professionals). Tony had played piano in the Godard pieces and here he played a Chinese piece, part of The Dance of the Watergrass, gentle, impressionist music.

Finally there were three piano trios. The Glinka Trio, comprising three small boys (one, Perry Xie again) on violins and piano (Zhe-Ning Chin), playing Russian pieces, evidently all by Glinka. I’m not sure whether this was exactly the same group that had played some Glinka pieces in the June concert. Each group had spoken briefly about their music, some hesitantly, some with clarity and confidence: the violinist Brayden Lewellen was the latter kind.

The group named Melodius Thunk had played last June: then the opening of Smetana’s piano trio; now, tutored by Simeon Broom, Rachmaninov’s first Trio Élégiaque. Listening to each player in turn – Nick Kovacev, Bethany Angus and Eliana Dunford – I was impressed by their polished and accomplished performances, individually and in ensemble, demonstrating real grasp of the style and musical content.

Rachel Church, who’d tutored the Glinka Trio, also looked after the final group, the Saint-Saëns Trio. They were Patrick Grice, Milo Benn and Nick Majic. This too had been in the June programme and I was impressed then. I was even more impressed hearing it again, and wondered why, though now familiar from the earlier playing, I hadn’t been thoroughly acquainted with this accomplished, compelling work before, a work that deserves to be in the standard piano trio repertoire (perhaps it is in other countries). I’d have thought that it would, from its publication in 1892, have been confirmed as a major chamber music work of the late 19th century, certainly of the French school. The trouble would have been the long-lasting disparagement of Saint-Saëns as a great composer, due to his refraining from falling in behind the ‘progressive’ movements of his later years.

So there can be very interesting, incidental and peripheral discoveries flowing from the choice of music by students whose teachers often plough fields that are not in fashion in the wider world of classical music. That was just one of the reasons for enjoying this enterprising concert.

 

 

 

Memorable, glamorous, musically interesting evening with Renée Fleming and the NZSO

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Renée Fleming: A Gala Evening
New Zealand Symphony Orchestra, conducted by James Judd

Ravel: La Valse
Shéhérazade: ‘Asie’; ‘La flute enchantée’; ‘L’indifférent’
           Pavane pour une infante défunte
Canteloube: Songs of the Auvergne: ‘Bailèro’; ‘Malurous qu’o uno fenno’
Gounod: Jewel Song, from Faust
Richard Strauss: Waltz sequence no.1 from Der Rosenkavalier
           ‘Morgen!’ Op.27, no.4; ‘Zueignung’ Op.10, no.1
Tosti: ‘Aprile’
Puccini: ‘O mio babbino caro’, from Gianni Schicchi

Michael Fowler Centre

Saturday, 12 September 2015, 7.30pm

What a generous singer is Renée Fleming, performing so many items for us!  Yet she seemed as relaxed at the end as she was at the beginning, and in just as good voice. Although much of what she sang could be termed popular classical, it was all fine music.  It was good to see James Judd on the podium again, controlling the considerable forces.

Poised almost above the percussion, it was easy for me to look out on the Michael Fowler Centre gratifyingly almost full, and also to see the very large orchestra used for the first and many of the other items.  It was not an ideal position for reviewing, being parallel with the front of the platform, and therefore not receiving the full import of Fleming’s wonderful soprano voice.  However, thanks to others’ kindness, I was able to change at the interval to a rather better seat on the other side.

La Valse, as the excellent notes in the lavish programme explained, changed its character from when Ravel began its composition before the outbreak of World War I to what it became when he returned, a changed man, after service in the French Army throughout the hostilities.  I had not heard this considerable orchestral piece live for a very long time.  It contains some amazing effects – even though brass and percussion dominated where I was sitting.  In the case of the latter, that included seeing the tambourine player making a dash from one side of the back of the stage to the other, just in time to play that instrument towards the end of the work.  Typical of much French music was the use of the harp – in Saturday’s concert, two harps, used to magnificent effect.

Renée Fleming made her appearance wearing a beautiful gown with train and a cape – she looked stunning – to sing Shéhérazade.  This exotic work was not only demanding for her to sing, but demanding for the orchestra too.  Both emerged triumphant.  Sultry, brilliant, memorable are all appropriate descriptions of the performance. The soprano’s glorious opening low notes on the first words, ‘Asie, Asie, Asie’ (Asia) set the scene wonderfully, and she modulated her tone to great expressive effect. Fleming employed a certain amount of gesture – never overdone. The only detraction from the performance was that the lighting level was too low to enable one to read the full words and English translations of Tristan Klingsor’s fine poems the printed in the programme!   Intervention from Fleming over the interval (and from me, via an usher, too!) meant this situation changed for the second half.

The different mood of the second song allowed Renée Fleming’s voice to shine even more.  Here, Bridget Douglas’s flute playing was simply dazzling.  It was noticeable that after this song cycle and elsewhere in the concert Fleming was quick to applaud and bow to the orchestra – and in one of her little chats via microphone she commended the orchestra on its quality and flexibility, and remarked how proud we must be of it (applause).  She also commented that she liked singing in the MFC.

After the short third song in this evocative and dramatic cycle, came the interval.  Afterwards, the orchestra returned to play Ravel’s well-known Pavane.  According to the programme notes, Ravel disliked it being played slowly, like funeral music, saying ‘It was the princess who dies, not the pavane!’
Mellifluous horns against pizzicato strings was just one of the magical effects the smaller orchestra produced.

Again, outstanding flute playing featured.  However, I was moved to note ‘I prefer my music unpolluted by coughs’.  Nevertheless, the audience was mostly very attentive.

When the strings (muted) changed to bowing, a wonderful lush sound emerged, embellished by the harps.  The piece was like a scintillating example of French jewellery, although perhaps it was a little slow, bearing in mind Ravel’s remark.

Fleming returned, in a different gown, in pastel shades with a stole.  She spoke briefly about both the Canteloube and the Gounod items.  The former was notable for a lovely cor anglais solo, giving the music that rustic feel, and also for more flute from Bridget Douglas.  Of course the most popular song is ‘Bailèro’, and it received a well-justified rapturous reception from the orchestra and James Judd as well as from the audience.  Throughout her items, Fleming seemed relaxed, and to be enjoying herself.  The production of her attractive silvery tone appears effortless.

Gounod’s ‘Jewel Song’ is not an easy sing.  Fleming brought so much variety to this well-loved aria.  She had us bewitched, just as Marguerite was.  She turned to each side, and even to the orchestra when singing, so no-one could feel left out, and admired the rings she was wearing, in order to act out the aria’s words.

Her later enquiry to the audience discovered that there were many singers in the audience; they would have learned much. Renée Fleming employs portamento in her operatic arias, but it is never overdone or ugly; it embellishes and beautifies what she is singing.

I find the waltzes from Der Rosenkavalier somewhat hackneyed – thanks to Radio New Zealand Concert!  But through Strauss’s use of interesting harmonic intervals and marvellous instrumentation, plus the brilliant playing of the orchestra, I was seduced.  The five horns and three bassoons played faultlessly, and the great violin solo from Vesa-Matti Leppänen was a delight; James Judd almost danced to the music, and seemed delighted too.

Our soloist emerged again – in a third gown, of turquoise blue (later she told us it was the first time she had worn three gowns in one concert!)  She told us that she regarded herself as primarily a Strauss and Mozart singer; she made entertaining and humorous remarks too.

On to my favourites in the entire enticing programme: two of Richard Strauss’s most well-known songs.  These enchanting lieder are most often heard with piano; to hear them with orchestra was a real treat.  In Morgen! the introduction featured inspiring solo violin, with pizzicato violas, cellos, basses and harp. When the violins entered, their bowing produced a delicious pianissimo.  The singing was so
beautiful, yet simple and unaffected.

Fleming sings the words and music; she does not display herself and her skills.  Her use of the words is
extraordinarily intelligent and musical. Who could not be moved? Similarly with Zueignung.  It is a wonderfully uplifting and even jubilant song; quite sublime.  Yet people coughed even during these wondrous songs.

The name Tosti (Francesco Paolo) is associated with Dame Nellie Melba, and with rather sentimental Victorian parlour songs, written during the composer’s long residence in England.  But this song in Italian had charm, and a delicious orchestral accompaniment.  Next was ‘Top of the Pops’, Puccini’s soaring aria titled in the programme’s translation ‘Oh, dear daddy’.  Again, our superb singer took it simply, but beautifully, with well-judged portamenti. Her velvety tone did not prevent drama where appropriate.  Fleming must have sung this many times, but it sounded fresh, and it had the orchestra in splendid form, as throughout the concert, the latter receiving applause from Renée Fleming.

Not limiting herself to this ending to die for, Renée Fleming gave three encores: ‘Summertime’ from
Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess was first.  For this she changed the character of her voice; it became appropriately brassy.  Then came the audience participation – singing the chorus to her ‘I could have danced all night’ from My Fair Lady.  As a brilliant stroke to prevent the curtain calls and standing ovations from going on for hours, she finished with a much less familiar item: Marietta’s aria ‘Glück das mir verblieb’ from Korngold’s Die Tote Stadt.  Again, Fleming’s singing was deceptively simple-sounding, yet heartfelt and masterful, with wonderful dynamics.  The aria’s orchestration was splendid.

Negative points: the price of the programme was high, and there were too few sellers, resulting in long queues, which people had to abandon when the concert was about to begin.  These points meant that
many people did not have a programme.  A single sheet printed with the composers and titles of the works is common in European countries, and would have been helpful on this occasion.

All who attended were privileged to hear one of today’s great singers in top form, who had us eating out of her hand, while singing a generous and varied programme, with an orchestra in brilliant form, and a very experienced and enthusiastic conductor, who is an old friend of the orchestra, and of the audience.  A night to remember for a long time.  Thank you, all!

 

 

 

Talent aplenty at Wellington Aria Contest but poor publicity denies finalists deserved audience

Posted on by Rosemary Collier

Wellington Aria Contest Final, 2015
(Hutt Valley Performing Arts Competitions Society)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Sunday, 6 September 2015, 7pm

By 7.50pm on Sunday there were 5 people seated in the audience; by 7.10pm when the singing began there were about 30.  Of these, most appeared to be other contestants in the earlier stages, teachers, family members, and Hutt Valley Performing Arts Competitions Society officials.

Where is the publicity?  The previous Sunday there were well over 300 people attending a concert in Waikanae by Tākiri Ensemble, comprising Anna Leese, Bianca Andrew, Andrew Glover and Robert Tucker.  These people have all participated in competitions in their time – and look where they are now!  Today’s participants may be the stars of tomorrow, and none of them need feel ashamed of the standard of their singing.  The music-loving public enjoys hearing young singers, but needs to know when and where they are!

The more people who know about the event, the more people will come, and their admission charges will pay for the advertising.  There are plenty of vehicles for getting the word out: Upbeat! on Radio NZ Concert, Arts Wellington email newsletter, ‘Regional News’ supplement in the suburban newspapers – not to mention the ‘Coming Events’ pages of Middle-C web-site (where it had been listed).

The adjudicator at this year’s senior vocal competitions was Amanda Atlas, formerly Amanda Winfield, who studied at Victoria University with Emily Mair, and after some years overseas now lives in Christchurch, but works from time to time with Opera Australia.  The aria competition had 22 entries, and eight finalists were called. The performers were all of a high standard, making the adjudicator’s task difficult.

Mark Dorrell and Catherine Norton accompanied, in highly competent fashion; it was a pity that their names were not printed in the programme.  The piano lid was on the short stick, appropriate for accompanying young singers.  Both accompanists achieved delicate pianissimos as well as bold sounds when required.  The compère was again Georgia Jamieson Emms.  She has an actor’s flair for this role, summarising the plots of the operas in brief but witty vein.

The concert was in two halves, with the competitors singing, in the same order, an aria in each half.  I have noted each performer’s two offerings together in this review.

A couple of the performers, Olivia Sheat and Katherine McIndoe, had sung in last year’s contest.  Both had been in the award line-up then.  There were several singers this time whom I considered unlucky not to receive an award.

First up was Eliza Boom, who sang first ‘Si mi chiamano Mimi’ from Puccini’s La bohème, and later ‘Eccomi in lieta vesta’ from I Capuleti e Montecchi by Bellini.  These arias showed off her considerable range and her clear yet warm-toned voice.  It was produced well, and her enunciation, some of the best, and expressive variation of timbre were noteworthy.  She has a powerful voice, but good control.

Imogen Thirlwall was next; she is quite an experienced singer now, with operas and oratorios under her belt.  Her aria ‘The Trees on the Mountains’ from Susannah by Carlisle Floyd, composed 1953-1954.  The soprano produced a lovely resonance in her voice – using the resonators of the face rather than large-mouthed grimaces (not that any of these singers did that).  Her breathing was rather noisy at times.  High notes were mostly well managed, but there were hints of strain and forcing.  She gave expressive effect to the words along, with achieving the style of American opera well.

It was perhaps unfortunate that her second choice was rather similar in style, being ‘Glück das mir verblieb’ from Korngold’s Die Tote Stadt.  The composer was not in America at this stage; he wrote it before he had to flee the Nazis.  While it was innovative, the inclusion of something from an earlier period would have better demonstrated her versatility.  She exhibited excellent control, yet also passion, and some spoken words were clear and given meaning.

Chelsea Dolman was the third soprano, and she sang ‘Come scoglio’ from Mozart’s Cosi fan tutte and André Previn’s opera A Streetcar named Desire, (1995), based on the famous Tennessee Williams play.  A dramatically sung recitative and aria, the Mozart demonstrated a voice of even tone throughout its range, with trills and runs managed very proficiently.

The Previn piece was premiered by Renée Fleming in 1998.  She is to visit this country in a week.  Another dramatic soprano (like Eliza Boom), Dolman put over the drama of the piece well.

Jamie Henare, the only male in the contest (it was the same ratio last year) is the possessor of a very fine bass voice; his splendid, full low notes are to die for.  He is young, and his voice will develop for years yet.  He gave us ‘Mi ravviso’ from La Sonnambula by Bellini, then later ‘Il lacerato spirito’, from Simon Boccanegra by Verdi.  Both suited his voice and revealed his range.  In the first he conveyed the character’s nostalgia for his youthful past very well.  In both he used the words – not just communicating them, but making them contribute to the total effect.  Their sonority conveyed the drama.

Ella Smith sang ‘Kommt ein schlanker Bursch gegangen’ from Weber’s Der Freischütz.   Her later aria was ‘Il faut partir’ from La Fille du Regiment by Donizetti.  She had an easy style and a good, resonant voice, with pleasing tone when focused, but there were spots of insecure intonation.  Top notes were powerful and strong, and seemingly effortless.  Some miming and movement added to the projection of her arias.

Madison Nonoa was a name I did not know, and she was the only coloratura in the Final. Her first aria was the very florid ‘Da tempeste il legno infranto’ from Giulio Cesare by Handel, and her second the lovely ‘Ach, ich fühl’s’ from Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte.  She managed the very florid first aria with all its trills and runs with phenomenal skill.  As well as being very demanding, this aria was very fast, and it was notable that her tone was even throughout the considerable range, in fact this improved as time went on.  She was confident, but though the characterisation was good, communication with the audience was less so.

In the second, her manner and voice were appropriate for Pamina.  Just a few times there was some loss of control, but mostly her voice was very focused, and she was able to broaden her tone beautifully.

Olivia Sheat gave us two lovely arias: ‘Donde lieta’ from La bohème and ‘Song to the Moon’ from Dvořák’s Rusalka.  I found her performance thrilling, and full of feeling, employing excellent vocal technique.  The second aria is such a particularly beautiful one, and it was radiantly sung in the difficult Czech language.  Despite this, the enunciation was superb; it was the only aria in the contest not in Italian, English, German or French (there was only one of the latter).

Those magical opening chords from the piano sounded stunning, and Olivia had the power to fulfil expectations.

The last contestant was Katherine McIndoe, who sang ‘Tornami a vagheggiar’ from Alcina by Handel, followed later by ‘Embroidery Aria’ from Peter Grimes by Benjamin Britten.  Strong and secure with good vocal tone, Katherine nevertheless had a few unsure notes in the first aria, and I found her
breathing a little too apparent.  The Britten aria came over very dramatically; it was a fine portrayal of Ellen Orford.

The Patricia Hurley Opera Tours award for the best rendition of a song/aria in Italian went to Madison Nonoa, the Robin Dumbell Memorial Cup for the young aria entrant with the most potential to Jamie Henare, the Rokfire Cup for the most outstanding competitor (in the whole competition, not just the final) went to Imogen Thirlwall.

The runner-up to the Dame Malvina Major Foundation aria was Chelsea Dolman, and the winner (and of the Rosina Buckman Memorial Cup) was Katherine McIndoe.  Congratulations to all the winners, and to The Hutt Valley Performing Arts Competitions Society for encouraging young singers and putting on a splendid evening of singing.

 

Delightful Takiri Vocal Ensemble heralds a new era for the song recital?

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Takiri Ensemble
Anna Leese (soprano), Bianca Andrew (mezzo-soprano), Andrew Glover (tenor), Robert Tucker (baritone)
Kirsten Simpson (piano)

Songs and ensembles by Schubert, Schumann, David Hamilton, Ross Harris, Anthony Ritchie, Britten and Vaughan Williams

Waikanae Memorial Hall

Sunday 30 August 2:30 pm

The Takiri Ensemble is a novelty for New Zealand: a vocal quartet that aims to be a permanent presence in this country. It challenges the long-held and flimsily sustained belief that there’s no audience for the song recital; another similar, ill-supported notion is that there’s little appetite for piano recitals. Each prejudice has probably been based on cases that have not been representative or well-conceived, flawed through poor programming, or uninteresting-looking performers.

I should, however, note another straw in the wind: an enterprising song recital inspired by pianist Catherine Norton on 10 June (see the review at that date).

This example looks like winning through the presence of at least the two well-known female singers, and a programme that has a decent proportion of genuinely popular, well-known material. Soprano Anna Leese has become one of the best-known young singers to have established an international reputation; Bianca Andrew, now at the Guildhall in London, has attracted a big following in New Zealand through her vivid persona. Andrew Glover has not been so visible in New Zealand since going to study overseas where he has had substantial professional engagements: Opera North, Garsington Opera, Opera Holland Park and English Touring Opera. Robert Tucker studied with Andrew at the Opera Centre in Perth, and has been singing professionally overseas for some years, including Schaunard in La bohème and Guglielmo in Così fan tutte (which he sang recently, alongside Bianca as Dorabella, with Wanderlust Opera in Wellington).

Pianist Kirsten Simpson is an artist-teacher in accompaniment at the school of music, Victoria University. During her extensive time overseas she has accompanied at the Solti Te Kanawa Accademia di Bel Canto in Italy.

The programme began with what I imagine is still the best known of Lieder: Schubert. All very familiar to me from my teens, though how familiar they are to today’s teenagers, I wonder. I was lucky to have had two music-loving German masters at college who used Lieder, mainly Schubert (also my first hearing of Schumann’s ‘Die Grenadiere’), and German folk-songs to embed the language, and at university, the wonderful Oxford Book of German Verse, very much my Bible, was annotated with details of musical settings.

So it will be obvious that the quartet did not confine itself to music composed or arranged for all four singers; in fact, all of the Schubert songs were sung in turn by individual singers. Because these are generally more familiar, I suspect that the ensemble will be wise to include a reasonable number of such well-loved songs as ‘loss-leaders’ for the more meaty or less easily digested music.

The second group of songs was totally unfamiliar to me: Schumann’s late cycle entitled Spanische
Liebeslieder (Op 138) might have been composed specifically for this ensemble. The piano alone plays a Prelude at the beginning and an Intermezzo in the middle, signalling the significance of the piano as scene or mood painter; it was always rewarding to listen to Kirsten Simpson’s thoughtful and colourful support for the voices.

Each of the eight songs is set for one or two voices and the last, ‘Dunkler Lichtglanz’, for the quartet, and the performances follow the pattern of voices adopted in the famous Graham Johnson Complete Schumann songs, on Hyperion for the bi-centenary in 2010.

Anna sang the first song, Schubert’s ‘Die Forelle’; it was a wonderful exhibition of her fluidity, her easy command of varied articulations and colours and the fisherman theme reappeared with ‘Fischerwiese’, marked with a joyous quality over sparkling accompaniment.

Robert Tucker used dynamic subtleties, especially a hardly audible pianissimo, in ‘An Sylvia’ which used to be popular as sung to Shakespeare’s original lyric from Two Gentlemen from Verona. Then there was firm metal in the voice, and in his later ‘Schwanengesang’ (not the song cycle), pregnant silences, depicting the approach of death.

Andrew Glover’s first song was the heart-felt ‘An die Musik’, with a caressing tone and an almost religious pianissimo, supported by discreet face and hand gestures. Then in ‘Nacht und Träume’, he held long high head notes, beautiful breath control. But in the Schumann cycle, in ‘O wie lieblich ist das Mädchen’ there was a little tightness in his high register.

Bianca Andrew took over, with the powerfully emotional ‘Die junge Nonne’, which she sang with impressively rich imagination; she knows how to use her head and arms to illuminate the music and dramatise the sense of the words.

Though not all the Schumann songs are equal in melodic charm and emotional integrity, this cycle, Spanische Liebeslieder, deserves outings as a whole. Though the notes naturally drew attention to Spanish character, there was little to my ears; both verses and music sounded thoroughly absorbed into a German sensibility. So they stood in the mainstream of the Lied. The two women sang the duet ‘Bedeckt mich mit Blumen’ with special delight, their voices and intent in harmony.

The men too had their duet, ‘Blaue Augen hat das Mädchen’, and their voices showed a delightful unanimity of style and sense.

After the interval came a few New Zealand songs: David Hamilton’s arrangements for these singers of his choral pieces, Three Anzac Settings.  Utterly unpretentious little works, quite different one from the other, handling sharply contrasting aspects of the war, including one, ‘Before Battle’, which dealt with the experience of conscientious objectors, in an idiom refreshingly free of any striving for ugliness or horror. There was a childlike tone in its rhythms, beautifully caught by singers and pianist, very remote from the sanctimonious character found in much music that deals with the tragedy of war.

The third, ‘In Flanders Fields’, was more subdued, in which men’s voices predominated.

Ross Harris composed three songs for Wellington soprano Lesley Graham in appreciation of her role in Harris’s two operas of the 1980s, Waituhi and Tanz der Schwäne. Bianca sang these charming vignettes set to poems by Bub Bridger; short little stories, gently declamatory; ‘Gossip’ had the air of wistful memories.

Two songs by Anthony Ritchie: the more I hear of his music, the more I feel it reflects clearly the happy return to compositional sanity, honesty and musical communicability after the perversities of the late 20th century. ‘He Moemoea’ is a polished, mature little song; ‘Ataturk Memorial’, to me, was somewhat unconvincing, a little prosaic, yet it seemed to work as a song.

Andrew Glover sang two songs by Britten: ‘Let the Florid Music Praise’ and ‘Oliver Cromwell’, the first with an uncanny hint of his Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings, the second a witty little piece, quite
splendidly done.  Anna Leese sang Britten’s ‘O Waly Waly’, with an arresting edginess and clarity.

Three Vaughan Williams songs brought the programme to an end. Anna and Bianca joined in singing ‘It was a Lover and His Lass’, weaving among the notes joyfully; the two men in ‘Fear no more the Heat of the Sun’, produced tones of touching solemnity, calm, elegiac; and the quartet sang ‘Linden Lea’, a cappella, perfectly fitting.

The quartet had sung already in Kaitaia, Wanaka and Motueka; they go on to Whanganui, Rotorua and Whakatane, but sing nowhere else in Wellington – What A Shame!

Do the other concert promoters still fear that singers will keep their audiences at home? This concert, with its audience of over 300, should persuade them otherwise.

P.S.
My colleague Rosemary Collier, who was also at the concert, has just commented about the excellent diction, which is so important in the singing of Lieder and other ‘art song’ – that they are ‘a marriage of poetry and music’.  (10am, Tuesday 1 September). I totally agree with her.

 

 

Opera Society revives its tradition of presenting promising young singers in tantalising song

Posted on by Lindis Taylor

Songs and arias
(New Zealand Opera Society – Wellington Branch)

James Benjamin Rodgers (tenor); Georgia Jamieson Emms (soprano); Elisabeth Harris (soprano); Christian Thurston (baritone)
Piano accompaniment: Catherine Norton

Liszt: Three Petrarch sonnets
Songs by Georg Tintner, Mahler
Arias by Gounod, Leoncavallo, Massenet, Nicolai, Verdi, Britten, Douglas Moore, Weill, Richard Rodgers and Sondheim

Cathedral of the Sacred Heart

Thursday 6 August, 7:30 pm

Once upon a time, the Wellington Branch of the New Zealand Opera Society used to stage almost monthly recitals of mainly opera arias and ensembles. As performances of the real thing increased in the 80s and 90s, with the establishment of Wellington City Opera, annual productions by both Victoria University and Wellington Polytechnic schools of music as well as a variety of adventurous ad hoc amateur groups, the appeal of de-contextualised arias and excerpts diminished.

Now that the number and variety of staged performances has seriously declined, scope for aria recitals should again have developed. So we must welcome a venture of this sort: the audience was large enough to encourage the society to try again.

First thing to exclaim about was the enterprising range of items. Absent were almost all the standard arias from the top 20 operas, as well as the once common scattering of popular art songs by Schubert and Schumann.

James Rodgers
One of the most surprising was the first bracket – Liszt’s famous settings of three sonnets by Petrarch; they were also among the most challenging, and in the hands of tenor James Benjamin Rodgers, not flawless in execution.

My main concern was with his gauging of the church’s acoustic. It’s a fine space for the singer, but very easy in which to misjudge the amount of force required for projection. The expression of passionate and unrestrained emotions in the poems tempts the singer to deliver tempestuously, with too much force. The beginning of No 104 was much more promising as Rodgers captured better the calmer sense of puzzlement, but too often one wanted a little more subtlety, variety of mood, just a softer, less driven voice.

So I looked forward to his later pieces. The first of them was the third act duet between Violetta (Georgia Jamieson Emms) and Alfredo in La traviata; here his voice was beautifully modulated, capturing the confusion between his full awareness of Violetta’s imminent death and his need to support her delusionary dreams of happiness. The pair was excellently matched in tone and dramatic perception.

Unusually, Rodgers sang, from Britten’s The Rape of Lucretia, the male chorus’s interlude describing Tarquinius’s ride to Rome to rape Lucretia, the wife of his general Collatinus. An absolutely splendid portrayal, with a peerless piano accompaniment from Catherine Norton.

Next morning Lucretia herself delivers an extraordinary, dignified lament, ‘Give him this orchid’, before killing herself before her husband: it was Elizabeth Harris’s triumph. Incidentally, one must record that the opera was done by the then Conservatorium of Music of Massey University a decade or more ago.

James Rodgers’s final group of pieces clinched his standing as a very fine singer, capable of grasping a wide variety of musical styles and emotional dilemmas. There were excerpts from two Kurt Weill works; the operetta The Firebrand of Florence and his ‘musical tragedy’ Lost in the Stars; and from Sondheim’s Sunday in the Park with George and Into the Woods (here duetting with Emms). Rodgers caught the wit and variety of mood keenly, demonstrating a natural talent for ‘becoming’ the character in question both through vocal nuance as well as facial expression and gesture. The title song from Weill’s Lost in the Stars sat right in the middle of his voice. In ‘Finishing the hat’ from Sunday in the Park his pianissimo conveyed perfectly the tortured conflict that the painter Seurat faced.

James and Georgia ended the concert, together again, with ‘It takes Two’ from Into the Woods, sensitively revealing the nature of the relationship between the couple. The two singers were again beautifully matched in this touching duet.

I am one who has not found it easy to enjoy Sondheim’s musical theatre, perhaps through exposure in live performance only with amateur productions; but the two examples here rather captivated me. Nevertheless, professional productions, which is what these pieces demand, are very unlikely in New
Zealand.

Georgia Jamieson Emms
Georgia had first displayed her interpretative talent with three songs (two by Theodore Storm and one by Hesse) set by Georg Tintner who fled to New Zealand from the Nazis in Austria before WW2 and, typically, found it almost impossible to gain musical recognition here, though he eventually became conductor of the New Zealand Opera Company. I hadn’t come across any of his compositions before; in these three one could hear hints of inter-war Vienna, touches of Alban Berg, Schoenberg and influences from Mahler and even Liszt could be perceived; secure and confident in realisation though nothing strongly memorable. But the performances would have charmed the composer.

Later offerings from Georgia included an unfamiliar aria from Nicolai’s German take on The Merry Wives of Windsor. It’s often done still in Germany but here we know only the overture and perhaps the splendid Drinking Song. This ‘Nun heilt herbei’ was sprightly and expressive, with comic effects that Georgia delivered very well. (Nicolai was a strange case, dates exactly those of Chopin, but a much smaller talent; he wrote a few other operas none of which held the stage).

That was followed by the Traviata duet, in which she created a moving and lively simulation of dying.

Georgia’s last items were an aria from Weill’s Street Scene of 1946, entitled ‘An American opera’, and then the ‘letter scene’ from Douglas Moore’s famous (in America) The Ballad of Baby Doll. In
both she displayed a lovely timbre, with careful control of emotional expressiveness.

Christian Thurston
Thurston arrived on stage in the middle of the first half and sang two opera arias, both amorous yearnings after forbidden fruit: ‘E fra quest’ ansie’ – Silvio’s aria from Pagliacci, and the rather less known ‘Vision fugitive’ from Massenet’s Hérodiade. Unlike the Jokaanan in Strauss’s Salome, here John the Baptist is made to feel quite open lust for the seductive Salome.

In both arias I felt that Thurston was pushing his voice excessively. While it was disciplined and firm, his voice lacked colour and emotional variety and didn’t really convey the trembling, out-of-control emotion that one expects to find in, and to be touched by, the words and the music itself of these two arias.

His third song was addressed to a young lady who was accessible to the singer: Emile’s well-loved ‘Younger than Springtime’ from South Pacific. But here again he missed the gentleness and sentiment of the beguiling melody in spite of a voice of even quality and pleasant timbre. I could not decide whether the problem was his miscalculation of the nature of the acoustic, encouraging needless pressure on his voice, or simply the choice of pieces that suited neither his voice nor his histrionic talents.

Elizabeth Harris
Before her aria from Lucretia, mentioned above, Elizabeth Harris had sung one of Mahler’s songs from Des Knaben Wunderhorn: Das irdische Leben. The subject echoes Schubert’s Der Erlkönig; and she sang it with tremulous intensity.

Then came a much anthologised opera aria from an unknown opera: from Gounod’s first opera, Sapho: ‘O ma mère immortelle’. It’s a touching little piece which she handled with sweet sensitivity. She also sang one of Britten’s brilliant cabaret songs, Johnny, which she carried with sparkling acting and a zaney, daring self-confidence along with Catherine Norton’s dazzling piano.

The concert as a whole has to be rated a considerable success, both as highlighting one singer who has gained some international success and three others of great promise.  As I observed at the beginning, the decline in the amount and variety of live opera in performance should create a renewed thirst to explore opera, through excerpts, that look less and less likely to be performed here. And it is disturbing that such well-schooled and talented singers as these are unlikely ever to find full employment in this country.