Beethoven’s Leonore as seen in a production by Buxton Opera, 2016
LeonoreOverture no.2 Op.72a, used by Beethoven for the first edition of his opera in three acts (1804-05, Beethoven aged 34)
Duration 13′
by Ben Hogwood
Background and Critical Reception
Beethoven’s struggles with writing his first opera extended to finding the right overture. In all he composed four overtures for Leonore / Fidelio – three for the former, and one for the latter.
Lindsay Kemp, writing booklet notes for LSO Live, explains how the problem was not one of musical quality, but one of function. Originally his idea was ‘to provide a programmatic prelude that would foreshadow the ensuing drama and its music in the manner of the overtures of contemporary French opera.’ He describes the results as ‘grand but architecturally loose’.
Confusingly this is known as ‘no.2’ – which was followed the next year by ‘no.3’, then a heavily trimmed ‘no.1’ and finally Fidelio.
Thoughts
Drama is to the fore in this overture, and it is immediately clear that Beethoven’s efforts to find a suitable prelude led to a great deal of invention.
The opening pages are redolent of a French overture; also more than a little reminiscent of the Representation of Chaos that begins Haydn’s Creation oratorio. The tension barely lets up, save for a softer episode where a tender love theme is aired. All too soon, though, we are back in stormy C minor – Fifth symphony territory – from which Beethoven navigates to the major key for an episode of power and precision.
This is a serious orchestral dialogue that operates on the scope more of a symphonic poem than an overture, and the final arguments are thrilling in their execution. The trumpet fanfares towards the end are a case in point, setting the scene perfectly for a triumphant final coda – and also for the action to follow.
Recordings used
Berliner Philharmoniker / Herbert von Karajan (DG) Cleveland Orchestra / George Szell (Sony) Chamber Orchestra of Europe / Nikolaus Harnoncourt (Teldec) Orchestre Révolutionnaire et Romantique / Sir John Eliot Gardiner (DG Archiv) Freiburger Barockorchester / René Jacobs (Harmonia Mundi)
There are some terrific versions of this overture. Maximum theatricality can be achieved by listening to any of Karajan, Szell, Harnoncourt and Gardiner – though the silky strings of Karajan’s version really do set the tension. René Jacobs, too, in his version of the complete opera, starts with high stakes.
You can listen on the links below:
Also written in 1805James HookThe Soldier’s Return
Gilly’s Wood is the name for a plot of hawthorn woodland in East Kent – and now it shares its name with an album made by Phil Self in the same spot. This is in complete contrast to Self’s previous record under the Dau moniker, for Zed Zed was made in isolation indoors, with just four walls for company.
No, Self has used his connections with instrumental sextet yndi halda to bring to life a set of improvisations he recorded in the woods two weeks after the Smugglers Festival on the same spot in 2021. The recordings feature Self playing the reed organ alone in the woods, with nothing but a Tascam field recorder for company.
What’s the music like?
There is a rich, pastoral beauty to the music here, and a sense of the slow moving passages of time the trees have taken in Gilly’s Wood itself. The sonorous reed organ lends a stately air to proceedings, especially with the slow moving chord progression of Neu. Not only does the organ feature but the birds and other natural phenomena are round about, giving space and perspective especially on headphones.
Self constructs his portrait in six parts, four of them tracks over eight minutes in length, which gives the music plenty of time to plot its slow course and development. There is a fuzzy, out of focus production which gives the music a soft, grainy texture that proves appealing through Camping and the title track, whose slow progression is a beautifully ambient one.
Only The First Of The Month sounds a little more ominous, with two sonorous tones from the reed organ close together – but this is soon past and we return to fuzzy ambience with Mulberry, which uses musical layers to make a vivid collage of consonant sound. Finally Mary is the most expansive of Self’s musical ideas, its broad canvas reaching to the tops of the trees.
Does it all work?
Effortlessly so. Self’s music does not ask a great deal of the listener other than a suitable environment in which to listen. If you find a restful spot in which to enjoy Gilly’s Wood, the benefits are clear.
Is it recommended?
It is. This is a lovely and rather beautiful suite of English pastoral ambience, a celebration of the outdoors and a positive shot of musical mindfulness.
For fans of… Bibio, Loscil, Kit Downes, Erland Cooper
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Published post no.2,069 – Saturday 27 January 2024
A simple quote from the author puts this new release in perspective. In it, Robag Wruhme (aka Gabor Schablitzki) has listened to his audience and released the Tulpa Ovi releases all together on vinyl. His biography accompanying the collection is simple:
My music and I in the spirit of the times? But not before and neither behind? More like in between somewhere? A side street maybe; I like these better than the busy main streets anyways, as you can still discover things. That’s exactly where I want to be.
What’s the music like?
As minimal as the fuss surrounding its release – but rather beautiful too. Wruhme’s approach is very much a ‘less is more’ aesthetic, where details of percussion come through to play a big part in his writing, alongside very subtle but heart-softening keyboards.
That much certainly happens on the intimate confines of Robellada.22 and the intricate Beta Gora, while the tougher beats of Quokka Supra work really well and generate plenty of forward momentum. These are tracks for the shadowy corners of the underground, and the sublime Avo Thal typifies that approach, a track that begins as a closed shop but opens out wonderfully well to reveal a bright, ambient canvas, drawing back the dark curtain on a much brighter painting behind. The textures of Spoddy Spy reach for the stars, twinkling keyboards and all, while there is an exclusive song included, the bumpy beats of Loss Breda cutting away to reveal the dappled vocals of Lysann Zander.
Does it all work?
It does. Wruhme’s use of colour and structure is pretty much impeccable, though keeps an instinctive approach too.
Is it recommended?
Yes, enthusiastically. These are darkly tinged pieces of minimal electronica that reveal warmth and intimacy with repeated listening.
For fans of… Kompakt, Recondite, Max Cooper, Rival Consoles
This is the launch of a new moniker for Brazilian producer Renato Ratier, the man behind Sao Paulo’s D-Edge and Surreal Park clubs.
He already has two albums under his belt, but with Ritual he makes a conscious reboot.
What’s the music like?
There is some excellent, vibrant house music in the course of Ratier’s album, made by a producer who keeps things moving, doesn’t overstay his welcome with any of the tracks, and keeps a really strong concentration on the dancefloor throughout.
Aura is a brilliant deeper house cut with vocal hits, taking influence from Chicago in its execution. Bamboo really hits the spot too, a bouncy track with a woozy chord pattern that leans towards trance. There are a couple of powerful spiritual tracks, with Mantra featuring a guest vocal from L_cio that talks emotively about divisions, ultimately pleading to ‘teach us how to pray’. Profeta is of a similar ilk, with a great low bass underpinning the vocal. Meanwhile Ritual is a winning cultural blend, and you can feel the heat shimmering over the house beats as the indigenous chants play out.
Does it all work?
It does. Ratier works his crowd to excellent effect.
Is it recommended?
Heartily. One the house music heads will certainly enjoy, especially if they are of a Chicago or Detroit persuasion!
For fans of… Floorplan, Carl Craig, Marshall Jefferson
Listen
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Published post no.2,067 – Thursday 25 January 2024
Breathtaking music-making for an attentive audience including a sparkling Petrushka.
Marcus Roberts Trio [Marcus Roberts, Martin Jaffe, and Jason Marsalis] Philadelphia Orchestra / Yannick Nézet-Séguin
Stravinsky Petrushka (1910-11 rev.1947) Weill Symphony No. 2 (1933-34) Gershwin Rhapsody in Blue (1924)
Carnegie Hall, United States Tuesday 23 January 2024
Reviewed by Jon Jacob. Photo (c) Jon Jacob
For those of us from the UK more accustomed to perfunctory applause, the enthusiastic response from the audience welcomed conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin to the stage ahead of Stravinsky‘s ballet Petrushka came as a bit of a surprise. The sound of the applause crinkled in the acoustics in a way I don’t remember hearing at the Cleveland concert. The capacity crowd was already psyched. Uplifting stuff before a single note was heard.
The Philadelphia Orchestra’s sound is incredible, generated by a powerful, carefully controlled machine that delivers both weight and delicacy. The band feels incredibly responsive, meaning the smallest of gestures can bring about a range of different colours and textures that illicit all manner of emotional responses. This receptiveness demands players at the top of their game. They are the elite.
There’s also a perceptible self-assurance in the sounds they produce. That promotes a sense of confidence in the listener, in turn elevating listening experience. Put simply if the first sounds you hear aren’t like anything you’ve heard before you’re going to listen more attentively, in the same way you’ll drive an expensive BMW differently simply because of the feel of the steering wheel and the smoothness of the ride.
In Petrushka the principal flute had a bright sweet sound, flanked by a delicate and precise piccolo. There were beautifully burbling and babbling clarinets. Trumpets sparkled with rapid articulation that was clear but avoided fussy-ness. A virtuosic piano line highlights that the material was originally conceived as a concert piece for piano – the demands Stravinsky makes on the pianist remain high and it’s a dazzling contribution from pianist Kiyoko Takeuti.
Elsewhere, the big string section brings phenomenal weight given the heft (no great surprises perhaps – 17 first violins, 14 seconds, 12 violas, 10 cellos and 8 basses). When the basses underpinned a sequence, it felt as though we were digging down into the foundations, great jabs slicing into the ground with a sharp-edged spade.
The WeillSecond Symphony opened the second half. A smaller number of players on stage but still the same detail, responsiveness and jaw-dropping spirit that elevates this band above so many others. At three movements it is a concise work, packed full of evocative tunes, inventive treatments, and tantalising textures. It undoubtedly entertains but does it move? I’m not entirely convinced, although age has mellowed me, so my conclusions are not as severe as those reported by Weill to a friend after the 1934 premiere who said the work had been dismissed as ‘banal, ‘disjointed’, and ‘empty’.
There were plenty of entertaining thrills and spills conjuring up nail-biting peril and jeopardy in the first movement. The Mahlerian second movement funeral march had some respite from the powerful grandeur on display in the sweet flute and trombone solos. It was a much prompter reading compared to some of the recordings I’ve listened to after the concert. Weill’s trademark melodies are evident in the final raucous movement.
Running to half an hour, Weill’s second symphony isn’t a long work, but given the stage move necessary to bring the piano and drum kit on for the final Rhapsody in Blue, the evening was feeling long. But the payoff was undoubtedly worth it. Hearing the music of New York, written in New York, here in New York was special. So too hearing the Marcus Roberts Trio with Philadelphia Orchestra.
Pianist Marcus Roberts treats the work’s piano sequences with far more improvisational zeal than the more familiar ‘straight’ recordings (you can get a sense of the material from this performance filmed in Geneva’s Victoria Hall
The familiar signpost orchestral sequences remain, but the energy is upped tenfold by the seeming flights of creative fancy the trio embarked upon. Excited applause rippled around the auditorium accordingly. The effect of this ‘directors cut’ was for competition to emerge between orchestra and trio. When the improvisations concluded and the orchestra kicked in, the well-known orchestral score sounded dull in comparison to the spectacle we had been treated to before. Was the kind of ‘Experiment in Modern Music’ Gershwin had in mind when the work was first premiered at the Aoliean Hall down the road a hundred years before?
The energy in the auditorium unexpectedly seemed to come with me as I made a ‘dash’ up the steep balcony steps for the exit. After I’d run for a subway train (conveniently located outside the concert hall), I sat down and immediately yawned. Heads turned.
“It was a long evening, wasn’t it?” said the man sat next to me. “It was. But I loved every single minute of it.” “The Weill was fantastic. I do think they packed in more than they needed to. And I’m sure the ensemble was off in the Petrushka.” He looked across the aisle to a couple who were listening to our exchange. “I thought so too,” said the woman. Then a man stood in the aisle, “No. It was the Weill that was the problem. I can’t stand Weill.”
I gently protested, jokingly telling them they were all wrong and they should take a long hard look at themselves and listen back to the broadcast when they got home. A surprisingly in-depth conversation ensued amongst the five of us. I missed my stop as a result.
“You know, you’d never have this kind of post-kind of conversation on the Tube in London”, I explained. “Oh we know,” replied the woman, “That’s what we do here.” It’s a lovely thing too.
Jon Jacob is a writer, digital content producer and strategist, authors the Thoroughly Good Classical Music Blog, and produces the Thoroughly Good Podcast.
Published post no.2,066 – Wednesday 24 January 2024
Arcana.fm 