As part of Arcana’s occasional Sunday look at the serenade, we cannot leave out one of the finest examples in the form. Mozart‘s Gran Partita, composed in 1781, was written for 13 instruments – wind ensemble and double bass – and is in seven movements. It is a special piece of music, not least in the third movement Adagio. Here it is in a 1991 performance from the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra conducted by Sir Colin Davis:
Published post no.2,232 – Sunday 7 July 2024
Madam Butterfly (1903-04)
Semi-staged performance with English surtitles
Cio-Cio San – Maki Mori (soprano), Pinkerton – Pene Pati (tenor), Suzuki – Hiroka Yamashita (mezzo-soprano), Sharpless – Christopher Purves (baritone), Goro – Christopher Lemmings (tenor), Kate – Carolyn Holt (mezzo-soprano), Yamadori/Bonze – Sanuel Pantcheff (baritone), Imperial Commissionaire – Jonathan Gunthorpe (bass), Yakuside – Matthew Pandya (bass), Cousin – Abigail Baylis (soprano), Mother – Hannah Morley (mezzo-soprano), Aunt – Abigail Kelly (soprano), Ufficiale – Oliver Barker (bass)
Thomas Henderson (director), Laura Jane Stanfield (costumes), Charlotte Corderoy (assistant conductor), Charlotte Forrest (repetiteur), Daniel Aguirre Evans (surtitles)
CBSO Chorus, City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra / Kazuki Yamada
Symphony Hall, Birmingham
Saturday 29 June 2024
reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photo (c) Yuji Hori
The current season by the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra ended on an undoubted high with this performance of Madama Butterfly – if not Puccini’s greatest opera, then likely his most affecting and one with which Kazuki Yamada demonstrably feels an acute empathy.
Semi-stagings can be a mixed blessing, but Thomas Henderson fulfilled this task admirably through several strategically placed screens at either end and across the rear of the stage that enabled the singers to enter or exit without detriment to musical continuity. The costumes by Laura Jane Stanfield brought authenticity without risk of caricature, while whoever handled the lighting should be commended for so discreetly intensifying those emotional highpoints – notably when the ‘heroine’ meets her end in what felt as powerful visually as it did aurally.
The cast was a fine one and dominated (as it needed to be) by the Cio-Cio San of Maki Mori – her unforced eloquence and innate goodness evident throughout, while her only occasionally being overwhelmed by the orchestra underlined her technical assurance. A pity that Pene Pati was not on this level as, apart from his rather cramped tessitura in its higher register, his was a Pinkerton neither suave not alluring but precious and self-regarding – with barely a hint of remorse when forced to recognize the consequences of his actions. Hiroka Yamashita had all the necessary empathy as Suzuki, while Christopher Purves gave a memorable rendering of Sharpless – unsympathetic as to profession yet emerging as a hapless participant conveying real humanity, if unable to prevent what could hardly be other than a tragedy in the making.
Smaller roles were well taken, not least Carolyn Holt as a well-intentioned Kate and Samuel Pantcheff as a yearning if not over-wrought Yamadori. The CBSO Chorus gave its collective all in a contribution that goes a long way to defining the culture and atmosphere in a turn-of-century Nagasaki riven between its Oriental tradition and Occidental intervention. Otherwise, the CBSO was the star of this show in responding to Yamada’s direction, as disciplined as it was impulsive, with a precision and finesse maintained over even the most opulently scored passages. It is often overlooked just how wide-ranging Puccini’s idiom had by then become, with its impressionist and even modal elements duly subsumed into music whose Italianate essence is consistently enhanced while without sacrificing any of its immediacy or fervour.
Some 120 years on and attitudes to what this opera represents have inevitably changed, but it is a measure of Puccini’s theatrical acumen that anti-imperialist sentiment abounds in the narrative without drawing attention to itself conceptually or musically. Conducting with an audible belief in every bar, Yamada ably maintained underlying momentum – not least those potential longueurs in the initial two acts, while his handling of the third act made an already compact entity the more devastating in its visceral drama and ultimately unresolved anguish.
Overall, a gripping account of an opera too easy to take for granted as well as an impressive demonstration of the CBSO’s musicianship after just a year with Yamada at the helm. And, if ‘joy’ was in relatively short supply this evening, next season should more than make amends.
For information on the new CBSO season for 2024-25, click here
by Ben Hogwood
What’s the story?
From Emika’s own words: “I’ve had this sound in my head for many years, this record saved my life”.
Haze finds Emika unifying a lot of the elements that have been present in her music so far – in the words of the Bandcamp commentary, ‘a blend of her neoclassical descending melodies, signature breathy, female vocals, icy pianos, heavy sub-bass vibrations and layered Hazy beats. Let’s call it Emika’s love-affair with the Future Garage genre.’
What’s the music like?
This is music to dive into, as Emika hits the sweet spot between pure ambience and busy musical activity. The latter brings positive energy through glitchy beats, murmured vocals and piano-driven motifs, often manipulated in music that wraps the listener up like cotton wool.
Emika cleverly weaves in thematic unity between the pieces, with slowly descending motifs that are presented with different backdrops or energy, the beats usually moving quickly and delicately in the middle ground.
(star key) is a beauty for the morning after, the familiar descending motif given fluttering beats and expansive production for company and setting the mood for the rest of the album. The breakbeats are crisply executed, reminiscent of Bicep or Burial but striking out individually too.
As the album progresses the pieces get shorter, their one-word titles (Ache, Shards, Rain, the beat-driven Waltz), are borne out in music of descriptive, cold elegance. Smoke is a beauty, with chord progressions of frozen beauty, while Writer exerts thoughtful arpeggios and breathy vocals that float on air. Low End feels like a piece of ‘Netflix noir’, and indeed much of the music would be very much at home providing the soundtrack for an Alex Garland series.
Does it all work?
It does. This is atmospheric music, perfect for mindful contemplation but with plenty of energy to reward foreground listening.
Is it recommended?
Very much so. Emika is one of those consistently versatile artists who is often on the move in a good way – and that is certainly the case here. Lively yet ambient, Haze is the ideal antidote to the overexposure and overstimulation given to us by the modern world.
Listen & Buy
Published post no.2,230 – Friday 5 July 2024
by Ben Hogwood
What’s the story?
James Devane has been busy – but along with his personal investment comes music of chance.
In his own words: “These recordings are the result of chance. Using hours of source material, everything was “chosen”, manipulated, and assembled at random via custom software without concern for key, tempo, measures, or rhythm. A search button and a save button.”
What’s the music like?
Consistently good – with a wide range of sonic panoramas as the album unfolds. The glitchy rhythm of Kilter proves to be rewarding, with a spatial backdrop. On One Place he puts the squeeze on the melodic material, and the same with the hi hat appropriation on No More No Less. Bottom Dweller is surprisingly ambient, while Vascai has a fulsome presence.
As part of the varied emotional backdrop, Maybe Tomorrow is a bassy beauty ending in a rich pool of sound, before the dubby Last Strut. Lights Down Low is heavier and bassy but atmospheric with it, while the booming Ending is almost too oppressive but signs off in style.
Does it all work?
Yes – a wide variety of styles for sure, but brought together in a way that makes Searching a coherent album.
Is it recommended?
It is. James Devane proves himself to be a highly versatile producer, traversing a number of contrasting moods through this album. It proves extremely effective, a really impressive addition to the canon.
Listen & Buy
Published post no.2,229 – Thursday 4 July 2024
Un giorno di regno (1840)
Melodramma giocoso in Two Acts – music by Giuseppe Verdi; Libretto by Felice Romani (revised by the composer)
Sung in Italian with English surtitles
Il Cavaliere di Belfiore – Joshua Hopkins (baritone), Il Barone di Kelbar – Henry Waddington (bass-baritone), La Marchesa del Poggio – Christine Rice (mezzo-soprano), Giulietta di Kelbar – Maddison Leonard (soprano), Edoardo di Sanval – Oliver Sewell (tenor), La Rocca – Grant Doyle (baritone), Il Conte Ivrea – Robert Murray (tenor), Delmonte – James Micklethwaite (tenor), Servant – Daniel Vening (bass)
Christopher Alden (director), Charles Edwards (sets), Sue Willmington (costumes), Ben Pickersgill (lighting), Illuminos (Matt and Rob Vale) (video), Tim Claydon (choreographer)
Garsington Opera Chorus, Philharmonia Orchestra / Chris Hopkins
Garsington Opera, Wormsley
Monday 1 July 2024
review by Richard Whitehouse Photos by (c) Julian Guidera and Richard Hubert Smith (as marked)
Garsington Opera has a laudable track-record in presenting rarities or supposed ‘also-rans’ to best advantage, with this new production of Un giorno di regno no exception. Verdi’s second opera fell flat on its premiere at La Scala in September 1840, though the death of his wife and both of his children over the previous two years meant his heart was simply not in the writing of a comic opera: one of several extenuating circumstances that included a dearth of suitable singers for the main roles plus the demonstrably backward-looking nature of the work itself.
All credit to Christopher Alden for creating a production which, whatever its modishness of appearance, is rarely less then relevant and always entertaining. Verdi’s hurried refashioning of a 22-year-old libretto – concerning real-life impersonation of King Stanislaus prior to his briefly regaining the Polish crown in 1733 – was never likely to thrill the Milanese audience, but it does provide a lively context for this sequence of increasingly inane goings-on such as respond well to being situated in an authoritarian state swamped by ‘fake news’ and political one-upmanship. Just occasionally the deluge of video imagery threatens to overwhelm what is being enacted on stage but, overall, what can seem a needlessly involved and diffuse plot is, if not simplified, thrown into sharper focus so as to maintain the interest of those present.
In so doing, Alden is abetted by the faux-stylishness of Charles Edwards’s sets and the no less eye-catching costumes of Sue Willmington – their combined effect enhanced by the dextrous lighting of Ben Pickersgill and a video component from the Illuminos duo that adds greatly to the effect of immersive decadence. Nor is the choreography of Tim Claydon found wanting in its physicality and convincing use of all available stage-space, not least those gangways in the auditorium that function briefly if vividly as its extension for certain highpoints of the action.
An opera production is arguably only as good as its singers, and the present cast could hardly be bettered. As the false king Belfiore, Joshua Hopkins brings style and suavity to a role that could easily become insipid – and with his ‘Freddie Mercury’ cameo carried off to perfection. Teasing out the cowardliness behind his thuggery, Henry Waddington is ideally cast as Kelbar and Grant Doyle hardly less so as the scheming La Rocca – his ‘sparring partner’ made literal during their uproarious breakfast confrontation. Oliver Sewell overcame initial unsteadiness to deliver an Edoardo of resolve and eloquence, with Robert Murray the stealthily insinuating Ivrea. Neither female role leaves anything to be desired – Madison Leonard vulnerable for all her minx-like persona; Christine Rice stealing the show as the Marchesa whose solo spots are the opera’s likely highlights. James Micklethwaite and Daniel Vening both acquit themselves ably, while Garsington Opera Chorus evidently enjoys its collective function as those ‘people in black’ who variously comment on the action then intervene often forcibly when necessary.
Stepping in at the eleventh hour (for an indisposed Tobias Ringborg), Chris Hopkins directed with verve and real sense of musical continuity – not least when Verdi (seemingly for the only time in his career) made recourse to ‘recitativo secco’ which here furthers the action without impeding its progress. Otherwise, the Philharmonia Orchestra despatches with relish a score which, for all that this lacks the sophistication and urbanity of Rossini’s or Donizetti’s mature comedies, crackles with energy along with an engaging personality for which it has not yet had its due.
Although a lesser opera in the Verdi canon, Un giorno di regno met with modest success even in his lifetime and its later revivals were well received. Thanks to this Garsington production, his ‘King for a Day’ finds itself more than able to enjoy a timely 15 minutes in the spotlight.
For further information and performances, visit the Garsington Opera website. For more on the performers, click on the names to read about director Christopher Alden, conductor Chris Hopkins and the Philharmonia Orchestra
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