An important new release in the Sir Arthur Bliss anniversary year, from a record company who have done so much to advance the cause of the composer. This is the recording made around a concert in Nottingham in February, where the Metamorphic Variations were appraised by Arcana’s Richard Whitehouse.
Chandos write in their press release: “Perhaps now overshadowed by his earlier ballet Checkmate, Miracle in the Gorbals was a tremendous hit for Bliss and the Sadler’s Wells Ballet company. First performed in 1944, it was repeated in every season through to 1950. Based on a scenario by Michael Benthall (inspired by Jerome K. Jerome and Dostoyevsky), the ballet features the appearance of a Christ-like figure amid Glasgow’s most infamous slum. This mysterious Stranger performs a miracle, reviving the Girl Suicide, who in despair had earlier thrown herself into the Clyde. The locals rejoice, but an Official (Benthall had in mind a priest) is jealous and, after a failed attempt to cast doubt on the virtue of the Stranger via the local Prostitute, has him slashed to death by a razor gang.
Bliss’s score employs a wide range of styles and harmonic language, and also exploits Leitmotifs for the principal characters. Originally titled Variations for Orchestra, Bliss composed the Metamorphic Variations towards the end of his life, during a late surge of creativity. Two of the sixteen movements were dropped before the first performance (given by the LSO and Vernon Handley in 1973) and for some reason were not re-instated at any of the later performances of the work until that given by Michael Seal and the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra in February 2025, the day before they made this recording.
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.
Sean Shibe (guitar), BBC Philharmonic Orchestra / Anja Bihlmaier
Richard Strauss Tod und Verklärung Op.24 (1888-89) Simpson ZEBRA (or, 2-3-74: The Divine Invasion of Philip K. Dick) (2025) [BBC commission: World premiere] Berlioz Symphonie fantastique Op.14 (1829-30)
Royal Albert Hall, London Tuesday 22nd July 2025
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse Photos (c) BBC / Mark Allan
The current BBC Proms season features several high-profile premieres, not the least of them being tonight’s from Liverpool-born clarinettist and composer Mark Simpson, remembered at these concerts for his orchestral fanfare sparks launching 2012’s Last Night in no uncertain terms.
On one level, ZEBRA (or, 2-3-74: The Divine Invasion of Philip K. Dick) is a straightforward three-movement concerto following the customary formal trajectory. No work that draws its inspiration from one of Sci-Fi’s most distinctive authors could be deemed predictable and so it proved with this musical representation of an epiphany which, experienced in his mid-40s, pervaded his thinking until his untimely death. Whether or not possessing divine overtones, it duly provided an imaginative context for the present work as it unfolds from a combative and even assaultive opening movement, through a mostly ruminative yet sometimes restive elegy, into a finale whose rapidly accruing energy surges towards an apotheosis of theatrical overkill – the ‘Zebra’ of the title as demonstrative as it remained elusive a presence during Dick’s life.
Music whose virtuosity summoned an orchestral response to match – the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra responding with alacrity to Simpson’s often febrile textures and translucent sonorities under the assured guidance of Anja Bihlmaier. Ultimately, of course, this was Sean Shibe’s show – his magnetic presence and mastery of electric guitar making it a notable addition to a genre still lacking in worthwhile contributions. His encore of a dreamily disembodied soundscape might even have been paying oblique homage to the great, happily not so late Robert Fripp.
On another level, Simpson’s concerto chimed ideally with the likely concept of this concert. One that commenced with an unexceptionally fine account of Richard Strauss’s Tod und Verklärung, Bihlmaier characterizing its more inward episodes with affecting poignancy as compensated for a lack of implacability in its early stages or a slightly underwhelming affirmation toward its close. Rarely in doubt was the direction in which this composer’s metaphysical musings were headed, even if the outcome was a performance no more than the sum of its best parts.
Berlioz pursued a rather less elevated ‘death and transfiguration’ in his Symphonie fantastique, but an approach with which Bihlmaier seemed more fully in accord. The lengthy introduction of Rêveries – Passions was eloquently delineated, and if the main portion of this movement (without exposition repeat) was overly self-contained, it elided naturally into Un bal with its ingratiating waltz offset by passages of despondency and elation. The highlight was a Scène aux champs which unfolded seamlessly from its plangent cor anglais solo, through mounting agitation, near catastrophe then uneasy resignation, to its mesmeric ending made more so by undulating timpani chords. After this, Marche au supplice (with first-half repeat) built with ominous tread to a climax almost graphic in its depiction of the ‘hero’ condemned to death.
An outburst of applause suggested many had not anticipated the orgy to come, but Bihlmaier responded with a Songe d’une nuit du Sabbat that, if lacking the ultimate drama, set the seal on an engaging performance with the BBC Philharmonic at something like its collective best.
You can listen back to this Prom concert on BBC Sounds until Sunday 12 October.
Sir Arthur Bliss Miracle in the Gorbals (1944) – Overture Things to Come (1934) – March Metamorphic Variations (1972)
Royal Concert Hall, Nottingham Wednesday 26 February 2025
Reviewed by Richard Whitehouse
2025 promises no mean retrospective of Arthur Bliss’s music in this 50th anniversary year of his death but no more significant revival than that of Metamorphic Variations, the composer’s late masterpiece that was heard live this evening for the first time in more than three decades.
Completed in December 1972 and premiered at Croydon’s Fairfield Halls the following April, Metamorphic Variations was the last while also the longest of Bliss’s purely orchestral works. Shorter than might have been, even so, as two of its sections were omitted at that first hearing (Leopold Stokowski having requested more rehearsal time for Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique after the interval) and given as an appendix in the published score; being excluded at later hearings as on the two commercial recordings. Tonight brought their reinstatement almost 52 years on.
First performed as ‘Variations for Orchestra’, this work only acquired its definitive title after considerable soul-searching on the composer’s part, though Metamorphic Variations is more accurate in terms of those ideas outlined in the initial Elements: an oboe cantilena, a phrase for horns then strings, and a cluster on woodwind – thereby setting up melodic, rhythmic and harmonic possibilities to be explored intensively over the ensuing 15 sections. The first five comprise a lively Ballet, a brusque Assertion and atmospheric Contrasts whose absence hitherto has been to the detriment of overall balance. Less crucial formally, Children’s March is of considerable fascination for its deft pivoting between innocence and experience, while Speculation marks a crucial expressive juncture through its renewed sense of anticipation.
Such anticipation is fulfilled by the starkness of Interjections then incisiveness of Scherzo I, before Contemplation yields further repose. Next come the two most elaborate sections – an increasingly energetic Polonaise being followed by Funeral Processions which builds to a wrenching, even anguished culmination. A lighter sequence moves from the dextrous Cool Interlude, via the angular Scherzo II, to the ingratiating Duet – an intermezzo prior to the final two sections. A brief yet potent Dedication makes explicit the work’s inscription to the artist George Dannatt and his wide Ann, then Affirmation draws each of the main elements into a sustained peroration thrown into relief through its ultimate subsiding into a return of the oboe cantilena from the opening and which, in its turn, brings a withdrawal into silence.
Scored with real virtuosity for sizable forces, Metamorphic Variations proves no less testing for the players as it is conceptually for the listener, though the BBC Philharmonic responded with assurance to Michael Seal who (given the unavailability of John Wilson) had not merely learnt the score in around 10 days but ensured an interpretation that was distinctively his own. Hopefully a recording from this source (how about it, Chandos?) will follow before too long: meanwhile, however, this performance is being broadcast by BBC Radio 3 in the near future.
Having provided the musical illustrations in Stephen Johnson’s introductory talk, Seal and the BBCPO had framed the first half with the fateful ‘Overture’ to Bliss’s wartime ballet Miracle in the Gorbals then the rousing ‘March’ from his inter-war score to the film Things to Come.
Prom 33 – Dame Sarah Connolly (mezzo-soprano), BBC Philharmonic Orchestra / John Storgårds
Weber Oberon – Overture (1825-6) Pejačević Zwei Schmetterlingslieder Op.52 (1920); Verwandlung Op.37b (1915); Liebeslied Op.39 (1915). [Proms premieres] Mahler-Werfel orch. Colin & David Matthews Die stille Stadt (pub. 1915); Licht in der Nacht (pub. 1915); Bei dir ist es traut (pub. 1910) Rachmaninoff Symphony no.1 in D minor Op.13 (1895)
Royal Albert Hall, London Wednesday 9 August 2023
by Richard Whitehouse photos by Chris Christodoulou / BBC
This evening’s Prom brought a welcome appearance by the BBC Philharmonic with its chief conductor John Storgårds, in what was a typically enterprising programme that continued this season’s emphasis on the music of Dora Pejačević in the centenary (last March) of her death.
Among Pejačević’s sizable output of songs are four with orchestra, making a viable sequence in its own right. Dame Sarah Connolly (above) brought out the searching whimsicality from Karl Henckell’s Butterfly Songs, whether the fanciful imaginings of ‘Golden stars, little bluebells’ or the more concrete thoughts of ‘Flutter, o butterfly’ with delicate contributions by flute and glockenspiel. The setting of Kael Kraus’s Transformation taps deeper emotion, not least with those ecstatic violin solos between stanzas (eloquently rendered by Yuri Torchinsky), whereas that of Rainer Maria Rilke’s Love Song is notable less for the gently undulating phrases of its vocal writing than for the soaring ecstasy of its central interlude which only double one’s regret that neither composer nor poet lived long enough to collaborate on an opera project as had been mooted.
Making up this sequence were three songs by Alma Mahler-Werfel, taken from sets published in 1910 and 1915. Neither those contrived sentiments of Richard Dehemel’s The Silent Town or self-conscious emoting of Otto Julius Birbaum’s Light in the Night summons an especially personal response; only the winsome poise of Rilke’s I feel warm and close with you implies any individuality. The orchestrations by Colin and David Matthews are sensitive and apposite, but the latter might reasonably have expected more from the Proms in his 80th birthday-year.
Opening this concert was a beautifully judged reading of the overture to Weber’s final opera Oberon – less often heard now that overtures are no longer the automatic curtain-raisers they once were but which, in its deft interplay of evocative and energetic, still casts a potent spell.
By contrast, Rachmaninoff’s First Symphony has come much more into its own now that the composer’s orchestral output has moved to the centre of the repertoire. Unheard for 48 years after its disastrous premiere in 1897, it remains a testament to the young composer’s ambition – not least in an opening Allegro whose implacable ‘motto’ sets the course for this movement overall. Storgårds had its measure, not least in the mounting fervency of its development, then delivered a probing account of a scherzo the more ingenious for its pervasive understatement.
Although it will never supplant that of its successor in audience affection, the slow movement is a minor miracle of thematic subtlety and emotional restraint as came through via felicitous playing by the BBC Philharmonic woodwind. Launching the finale in suitably visceral fashion, Storgårds (rightly) made the most of its contrasts between the celebratory and the speculative – any remaining ambivalence not so much resolved as forced into submission through a coda which renders the fatalism of Tchaikovsky’s Pathétique from a distinctly personal vantage.
So, an unlikely programme which worked well as a concert – the more so given it proceeded without an interval. Those in the audience surreptitiously eating or drinking between pieces might have preferred otherwise, but for both music and performances it was nothing but gain.
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