by Ben Hogwood Picture by Kauppo Kikkas, used from the ECM Records website
Today marks the birthday of one of our most important and best-loved composers, the Estonian Arvo Pärt.
Pärt is best known as a composer with the ability to write music with a deep, spiritual connection, that often has a haunting and meditative quality. Yet a listen to a range of his works confirms that he is – and has been – so much more than that, with an early body of work that is uncompromising and challenging, to be heard alongside the deceptively simple, child-like pieces that make such an easy transition to relaxing playlists.
Pärt is most definitely a ‘playlist composer’, as short pieces such as Fur alina, Fratres and Cantus in memoriam Benjamin Britten confirm…but the playlist below brings these together with some of the earlier pieces, where a rebellious, pre-punk approach brought startling and compelling results. Try listening without skipping, so that you include the fascinating Symphony no.2 and the Credo. In context, the remarkable qualities of the shorter pieces take on new meaning.
by Ben Hogwood Picture by Sl-Ziga, used from Wikipedia
Last week we learned of the sad news that Russian composer Rodion Shchedrin had died at the age of 92. You can read a brief obituary of him at the Guardian website.
Shchedrin was a colourful orchestrator, and my occasional encounters with his music were rarely less than entertaining. One that particularly stands out was his Piano Concerto no.4, a broad canvas of dazzling virtuosity and exotic harmonies.
Meanwhile on record the orchestral colour is always evident in his Carmen Suite ballet, an arrangement and enhancement of Bizet’s music with percussion to the fore. His Concertos for Orchestra are also full of original thoughts, while the ballet Anna Karenina – an illuminating score – is a standout work, written for his ballerina wife Maya Plisetskaya (above, with Shchedrin).
The playlist below brings the first Concerto for Orchestra, Naughty Limericks, as an overture to the Piano Concerto no.4 and the Carmen Suite. Added to that is the Anna Karenina ballet in full.
Opera in Four Acts (Nine Scenes) Music by Dmitri Shostakovich Libretto by Alaxander Preys and the composer after the novella by Nikolai Leskov English translation by David Poutney Semi-staged performance, sung in English with English surtitles
Katerina – Amanda Majeski (soprano); Boris/Ghost of Boris – Brindley Sherratt (bass); Zinovy – John Findon (tenor); Mill-hand/Priest – Thomas Mole (baritone); Sergey – Nicky Spence (tenor); Aksinya/Convict – Ava Dodd (soprano); Shabby Peasant – Ronald Samm (tenor); Steward – Alaric Green (baritone); Police Sergeant – Chuma Sijeqa (baritone); Teacher – William Morgan (tenor); Old Convict – Sir Willard White (bass-baritone); Sonyetka – Niamh O’Sullivan (mezzo-soprano)
BBC Singers, Chorus of English National Opera, Brass Section of English National Opera, BBC Philharmonic Orchestra / John Storgårds
Ruth Knight (director)
Royal Albert Hall, London Monday 1 September 2025
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Andy Paradise
In this 50th anniversary year of Shostakovich’s death it made sense for the Proms to schedule Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, his second and final completed opera, in a performance reminding one of English National Opera’s commitment to this work stretching back almost four decades.
In scenic terms, the semi-staging directed by Ruth Knight was little more than a gloss on what was heard. Its framing device of the heroine in the witness box now seems a tired device that served little purpose, and the emergence of a bed at rear of the platform as a focus for sexual activity had surely passed its sell-by date at the end of the David Poutney era. More effective was the use of lighting to accentuate dramatic highpoints; incidentally reminding one such a procedure had come of age around the time that Shostakovich’s opera first appeared on stage.
Vocally this was a mixed bag. No-one could accuse Amanda Majeski of lacking presence or, moreover, eloquence in her assumption of the title-role, yet her emotional aloofness made her seem not so much distinct as overly detached from the wretched circumstances all around her. Brindley Sharatt was a shoo-in for Boris, his boorishness yet evincing a cunning intelligence who easily held the stage – not least his latter ‘ghost’ incarnation. Nicky Spence was vocally assured but dramatically two-dimensional as Sergey and, as Zinovy, John Findon resembled more a provincial critic than a merchant, though Thomas Mole made a lively contribution as a dipsomaniac Priest with Chuma Sijeqa uproarious as the Police Sergeant. His cameo as an Old Convict found Sir Willard White in gratifyingly fine voice near the end of his eighth decade.
Smaller roles were generally well taken, not least Ava Dodd’s hapless Aksinya and Niamh O’ Sullivan’s scheming Sonyetka, while the ENO Chorus lacked little in forcefulness or clarity of diction, though this latter might have been felt a drawback given the frequent contrivance of Poutney’s translation – which has not aged well. Otherwise, this was very much the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra and John Storgårds’s show. Having impressed with Shostakovich symphonies over recent seasons, the latter had a sure grasp of this opera’s dramatic unfolding and paced it accordingly. No stranger to this composer’s music, his orchestra was as responsive to the seismic climaxes (suitably abetted by ENO brass) as to passages of mesmeric introspection which, in many respects, prefigure the composer Shostakovich was increasingly to become.
It has often been claimed that, had his fortunes not reversed so dramatically as on that fateful evening of 26th January 1936, Shostakovich would have continued upon his path as an opera composer. Yet there is a nagging sense that, whatever its theatrical potency, Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk is intrinsically no more than the sum of its best parts. Leaving aside the intermittent success of his and Alexander Freys’ remodelling of Nikolai Leskov’s ‘shabby little shocker’, dramatic characterization frequently seems to have been laminated onto its musical context.
If tonight’s performance never entirely banished these thoughts, it certainly gave this opera its head in what was a memorable night for orchestra, conductor and, for the ENO contingent, an impressive bowing-out as it prepares for the next phase of its existence – based in Manchester.
Yesterday marked 200 years since the death of the influential composer and teacher, Antonio Salieri, at the age of 74.
Salieri gets a very one-dimensional press these days, known primarily for his rivalry with Mozart, but as with so many of these things there is a whole lot more to the story as far as we can tell it.
As a teacher, Salieri was responsible for helping shape the careers of Beethoven, Schubert and Liszt, along with Hummel and Franz Xaver Wolfgang Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus’s son. His keen dramatic instincts were honed by his own teacher Gluck, who became a good friend and was a clear influence on an operatic career whose gems are only just being revealed.
Of course the rivalry with Mozart makes very good press – but without the full knowledge, I’m going to sidestep that and simply present a short playlist of Salieri’s own, highly accomplished music – some from the concert hall and some from the stage:
Complementing the playlist is a new recording of the 1788 opera Cublai, gran kan de’ Tartari, conducted by Christoph Rousset – his fourth venture into the stage works of Salieri for the Aparté label.
Comic Opera in One Act (two scenes) Libretto and music by Grace Williams, after En Famille by Guy de Maupassant
Grandmama – Edith Coates (contralto) Papa – Edward Byles (tenor) Mama – Noreen Berry (mezzo-soprano) Louisa – Anne Pashley (soprano) Augusta – Janet Hughes (soprano) Aunt Genevieve – Jean Allister (mezzo-soprano) Uncle Steve – David Lennox (tenor) Doctor Charlton – John Gibbs (baritone) Rosalie – Marian Evans (soprano) Welsh National Opera Company, Welsh National Opera Chorus, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Bryan Balkwill
Lyrita REAM.1147 [79’32”, Mono/ADD] Producer John Moody Broadcast performance from Odeon Theatre, Llandudno on 18 August 1966
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
What’s the story?
Lyrita continues its coverage of Grace Williams with this first commercial release of her only opera, taken from its first run by Welsh National Opera and so adding another major work to the discography of one who, almost half a century after her death, is finally receiving her due.
What’s the music like?
Although she was, by her own admission, brought up in a ‘singing tradition’ and experienced opera from an early age, it was only in 1959 that Williams was approached with a commission for one. Written to her own libretto, after the short story by Guy de Maupassant, The Parlour was completed two years later but not premiered until May 1966 – a subsequent performance being broadcast and heard here. There have since been semi-professional stagings in London (1974) and Cardiff (1993), but no further production from one of the main British companies.
Relocating this story away from Paris to an unspecified Victorian seaside town, Williams was mindful to maintain the petit-bourgeois conservatism and mendacity from that original setting. As a narrative it makes for pretty dispiriting reading, but the liveliness and wit of her libretto is rarely less than engaging, while her music hardly falters in bringing out the essence of the situation at hand. Eight out of nine singing roles get a turn in the spotlight, and though their profiles might not be sharply drawn, the interplay of characters as of voice-types is astutely managed. Orchestrally the score may lack the intensity of Williams’ other large-scale works, but its dextrousness and intricacy seem ideally suited to a domestic drama; with that pathos which frequently surfaces in her music being no less evident during the opera’s final stages.
Vocally there are strong contributions by Edith Coates as the implacable grandmother, from Edward Byles as her always put-upon son and from Noreen Berry as her perennially hapless (and luckless!) daughter-in-law. Anne Pashley and Janet Hughes become one as her witless grand-daughters, with Jean Allister and David Lennox ideally cast as her favoured daughter and her wheedling son-in-law. John Gibbs makes the most of her doctor in all his contrived bluffness or feigned disinterest, and Marian Evans chips in as the dim-witted family servant. The Welsh National Opera Company and Chorus betray occasional tentativeness, but swift-moving passages for the neighbours lack little of focus or discipline – from a time when this organization was in the process of making its transition from amateur to professional status.
Does it all work?
It does, not least owing to the excellence of this performance. WNO did not then have its own orchestra, but the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra is more than equal to the task of projecting Williams’s eventful score with the necessary clarity and verve, while it responds with alacrity to the direction of the company’s then music director Bryan Balkwill. The mono broadcast has come up more than adequately in its remastering, and this set comes with the full libretto and insightful annotations from Paul Conway in what is a typically excellent Lyrita presentation.
Is it recommended?
It is. The Parlour is unlikely to have a professional staging any time soon, making this release of more than archival interest. Could Lyrita acquire the 1963 broadcast of Daniel Jones’s The Knife, intended to be staged with the Williams in what would have been a weighty double-bill.
Arcana.fm 