Aria for … Monday – Fra l’ombre e gl’orrori (Aci, Galatea e Polifemo)

One of the most frustrating things is not always having the time to write up and give due justice when a notable new recital disc is released.

On this occasion it was Christopher Purves’ disc of Handel arias for bass with the marvellous ensemble Arcangelo.

Sadly work and travel got in the way.

Again it’s nice when shuffle throws up something unexpected. And especially after a long day in the office and Fra l’ombre e gl’orrori from Handel’s Aci, Galatea e Polifemo was a perfect antidote to commuter-dom.

I have to admit that I prefer this, Handel’s earlier Italian version – by a decade – to the English version of 1718. As well as this aria there is the heart-stopping Verso gia l’alma col sangue and generally the music is beautifully original.

Fra l’ombre e gl’orrori shares the same sentiment and warm instrumental colouring of the aforementioned but there the similarity ends. This is possibly one of the bleakest simile arias ever written – the dying moth burnt from the lure of the flame drawing a parallel with a soul that will never know either hope nor pleasure of love.

And Handel writes an aria of great yet simple poignancy completely at odds – you would think – with the inhumanity of Polifemo. But personally, I prefer to think that Handel wished to make the giant less a monster and more a man as witnessed by the music written for the role over and above this aria.

With the distinct colouring of a flute – so often associated with death and tomb scenes in Handel’s operas and melancholy in general in Baroque music – the range required of the singer is vast. And married to this is the requirement for the singer to have absolute technical virtuosity and control to deliver and sustain the vocal line.

And Christopher Purves has it in spades. Of course I still have burned into my memory his incredible performance as The Protector in George Benjamin’s Written On Skin. Here his resonant and richly coloured bass effortlessly manages both the wide tessitura required but sung with complete mastery, never once letting the vocal line sag.

Purves’ performance in this aria – and the entire disc – only reaffirms him as a remarkable talent and one of the leading basses performing today.

And as ever, sympathetically supported by Arcangelo directed by Jonathan Cohen.

This aria would be reason enough to purchase this disc if it wasn’t for the fact that the entire disc is magnificent.

Aria For … Wednesday – Se il mar promette calma (Lotario)

What I love about hitting shuffle on the iPod is that way it can throw out not only something that I haven’t heard in a long time but something that I don’t know that well.

Se il mar promette calma from Handel’s Lotario is an example. It’s not an opera I know at all well and this aria – for bass – doesn’t even ring the most distant memory.

A shame as it’s a jaunty number for the remarkably named character Clodomiro and here sung by Vito Priante accompanied by Il Complesso Barocco and Alan Curtis.

From what I can understand it’s one of those typical simile arias about crossing a stormy sea, which in baroque terms is all about overcoming adversity. You can’t beat a good simile aria and I love Metastasio’s perfect model.

The aria itself is incredibly simple yet both elegant and effective. The string accompaniment and running bass in the continuo are clearly meant to refer to the sea and wind and the playing of Il Complesso is both exemplary and exhilarating.

The vocal line itself is surprisingly florid for a bass aria and from what I can gather for a secondary character but Priante delivers the aria with both gusto and incredible musicianship. Not only are the more florid passages managed with great skill and a beautiful legato line but also his voice is both mellifluous and resonant through his entire range. And the returning da capo is tastefully decorated.

This is an aria that shouldn’t be anything less than a recital item for bass singers.

As I said, I love it when something like this happens and now I am off to listen to the entire opera.

Marvellous.

Bravo Radamisto

Review – Radamisto (Barbican, Sunday 10 February 2013)

Radamisto – David Daniels
Zenobia – Patricia Bardon
Tiridate – Luca Pisaroni
Tigrane – Elizabeth Watts
Polissena – Brenda Rae
Farasmane – Robert Rice

The English Concert
Conductor – Harry Bickett

Handel composed Radamisto to open the Royal Academy of Music in 1720 and it was followed by a series of operas – Floridante, Lotario and Flavio – that were subsequently eclipsed by Giulio Cesare in 1724.

On the strength of the concert performance at the Barbican on Sunday night, Radamisto deserves to stand outside the shade of its illustrious successor. The beauty and depth of Handel’s music in this opera was brought to life by an incredibly strong cast and the English Concert under the expert direction of Harry Bickett.

And this in spite of an announcement before the overture that Mesdames Bardon, Watts and Rae were suffering colds.

Following a sprightly, well-placed overture the richness of Handel’s musical invention comes to the fore immediately with Polissena’s Sommi Dei which immediately lays bare the queen’s character. And despite her indisposition, Brenda Rae carefully judged and beautifully sang this tricky aria with its high tessitura and exposed vocal line. Indeed throughout Ms Rae delivered the most beautiful singing of the night. She has impressive technique and a bright yet light soprano that can both negotiate Handel’s coloratura but also switch to land the most delicate phrasing and float top notes with elegant ease. Her second aria – Tu vuoi ch’io parta? – with its inbuilt dramatic pauses, was also delivered with great poise and vocal security and her third act Barbaro! partirò, ma sdegno poi verrà was both vocally incisive and thrilling. I see from her biography that Ms Rae is a member of Oper Frankfurt and I am seriously considering a trip to Frankfurt in May to see her in Giulio Cesare.

Patricia Bardon had a more gradual take off but proved to be an impressive Zenobia. Her rich and resonant voice might not always find the right balance – as with her recent Cornelia – with the vocal line but hers is always an impassioned performance. Son contenta di morire was suitably vehement while Quando mai, spietata sorte – its beguiling simplicity underlined by its gentle scoring for oboe – was beautifully sung. And the duet with her husband Radamisto – indeed the entire scene – was one of the evening’s many highlights.

In the title role was David Daniels who remains one of the leading countertenors on the stage today. His soft grained voice did not always carry over the orchestral, but there was no doubt about his singing – musically intelligent, impassioned and technically faultless. His opening number, Cara Sposa was a lesson in how to sing a trademark Handel aria, exposed save for the continuo with a beauty of line that took my breath away. Similarly, Daniels’ performance of Ombra cara da mia sposa underlined why he remains one of the leading Handel interpreters on the stage. A purity of line was infused with incredible pathos. And as I have already mentioned, his duet with Bardon was joyous, their voices blending beautifully.

Yet when he needed to, Daniels could produce the necessary fire. Vanne, sorella ingrata more than ably demonstrated that Daniels has maintained a fine vocal instrument capable of the trickiest of runs that were delivered with great aplomb. And Daniels’ ability to spin out long, elegant phrases was fully exploited in Dolce bene di quest’alma.

As Tiridate Luca Pisaroni was perfectly cast. His deep and resonant bass suited the music like a glove and he was brilliant at capturing the menace of the role as evidenced in Si, che ti renderai. However the highlight was swaggering aria Alzo al volo di ia fama with its resplendently played natural horns that rightly deserved a cheer on the evening.

Special mention must go to for Robert Rice’s appearance as Farasmane. And a shame that they did not include his single aria.

But the strongest performance of the evening came from Ellzabeth Watts, a soprano who I first saw as a Young Singer at English National Opera. As Tigrane she threw herself into the role with great relish including frock coat and knee-high boots. With her bright and richly honeyed soprano each of her arias was delivered, despite a cold, with a high level of musical and technical accomplishment. None of the coloratura seemed a challenge to her vocal abilities and her da capo ornamentation was well judged. From her opening Deh, fuggi un traditore it was clear to me not only that Handel had been at is most inspired but that she relished the part from opening bar to final cadence.

If you haven’t already, snap up her recital discs of JS Bach and Richard Strauss.

More Elizabeth Watt please.

And of course the quartet in the closing act not only uniquely highlighted Handel’s dramatic genius but enabled us to enjoy for the cast singing together. Although I dispute the spurious claim in the programme that the quartet looks forward to those of Mozart and Verdi.

Supporting this incredible cast of singers was The English Concert conducted by Harry Bickett. The warmth of sound from the entire ensemble reminded me why The English Concert is one of the leading – and oldest – original instrument ensembles around. And Bickett is a consummate Handelian. They played the entire score with great panache and my only regret is that they didn’t include the instrumental movements from Radamisto or at least the famous passacaglia that was so beautifully played a few nights before at the Barbican.

But this is the small reservation. An incredible cast of singers accompanied with incredible verve and attention to detail under the direction of Harry Bicket created a memorable performance.

Hamstrung Handel

Handel’s Altos – Music for Countertenor & Castatro (Wigmore Hall, Tuesday 27 November 2012)

Iestyn Davies (Countertenor)
Alexis Kossenko (Recorder, flute)
Jean-Marc Goujon (Recorder)
Neil Brough (Trumpet)

Ensemble Matheus
Jean-Christophe Spinosi (Conductor)

Iestyn Davies opened his residency at Wigmore Hall – A Singularity of Voice after the biography of Alfred Deller – with a concert inspired by selections from oratorios and three arias from Partenope together with instrumental selections from Handel and Telemann.

Iestyn Davies is – personally – one of the leading countertenors performing today. He has a wonderfully rich timbre, even and resonant with a sure-footed technique that cuts through even the most devilish divisions written by Handel. And what was particularly stunning last night was his complete control of dynamics and vocal light and shade in his singing. Marvellous.

So it was disappointing that this inaugural concert took a while to settle down and ultimately didn’t quite gel.

Not through any fault of Mr Davies.

The opening piece, Eternal Source of Light Divine, so ravishingly performed only last week at OAE’s Nightshift, sounded distinctly hesitant and ragged under Spinosi’s direction. Indeed intonation and inconsistent playing seemed to be Ensemble Matheus default position for most of the evening and was clearly a distraction not only sitting in the audience but it seems for Davies himself.

Eternal Light simply failed to shine. Indeed Davies looked almost ‘discomforted’.

The remaining arias in the first half of the concert were delivered with increasing measures of success. Davies was much more secure in Their Land Brought Forth Frogs from Israel in Egypt but again Spinosi’s players played the notes with some rhythmic indistinction and poorly attuned ensemble playing. This was particularly noticeable in the middle section of The Peasant Tastes The Sweets of Life from Joseph and his Brethren with the continuo player had clear intonation problems.

By the fourth aria Davies seems more in control – perhaps a sharp word in the green room between appearances? – and the selections from Jephtha and Semele were much more decisive and alert. The figurative melisma in Up The Dreadful Steep Ascending (Jephtha) were thrown off with great confidence by the countertenor and Despair No More Shall Wound Me from Semele was a suitable tour de force to end the first half.

Spinosi also included the overture and Sinfonia from Handel’s Xerxes in the first half. For some reason – and I don’t buy the programme notes line about “optional at all – there were no oboes present on the stage. This led to a distinct lack of colour, piquancy and weight in the overture. An ill-conceived decision.

The second half opened with the cantata Splenda in Alba when Ensemble Matheus were supplemented with additional flutes but despite a reference in the programme note, still no oboe. Davies sailed through this relatively unknown cantata with ease. His voice was clarion clear and he sang the arias with beautifully poised affection.

The Ensemble then performed a well-executed if bland performance of Telemann’s Concerto in e minor for flute, recorder and strings. At this point Spinosi returned to the stage violin in hand and in a rather affected manner seemed to take an age to tune. Distracting. It’s a wonderful concerto but failed to grip me. I was not a fan of Kossenko’s over-blousy recorder timbre and while both soloists were technically proficient there was a distinct lack of character in their playing. As I said it was a well-executed performance but didn’t seem to delve into the richness of Telemann’s music full as his music is with the baroque Affections. And the gypsy-inspired foot-stamping by the ensemble in the final movement seemed more contrived that the result of infectious and joyous music making.

Davies closed the concert with three arias from Partenope. Again he was slightly let down by his orchestral players. Sento amor was spun out with great delicacy, with Davies demonstrating he most perfect skill in delivering Handel’s wonderful arcing phrases. And his musical intelligence and sensitivity was underlined here – as in other arias of the evening – with beautifully placed ornamentation on the da capo return. But the wonderful Ch’io parta was marred by what can only be described as turgid playing leading the aria to drag and undermining the simplicity of this aria. And again the continuo cellist suffered from intonation problems in the middle section.

Fittingly, if not chronologically correct, Iestyn closed the concert with the firework-laden Furibondo spira il vento. As well relishing the coloratura of this aria, Davies revelled in delivering with bell-like clarity the vocal leaps and bounds. Suitably the audience roared their approval.

The encore was the beguiling, almost Galant-style Un zefiro spirò from Rodelinda. Once again Davies sang in pure, honeyed tone, beautifully spinning out the triplet melismas with great delicacy. Sadly it was ever so slightly undermined by dodgy intonation once again from the continuo cellist although full plaudits to the wonderful harpsichord playing.

So perhaps not a completely auspicious start to this innovative residency but again not due to any lack of musical brilliance on the part of Iestyn Davies. Without a doubt he was vocally and musically on top form but his performance was undermined – if not marred – by Spinosi and Ensemble Matheus.

Having most recently enjoyed his Arias for Guadagni with Jonathan Cohen and Arcangelo, I only regret that they weren’t the ensemble on stage with this amazingly talented countertenor at Wigmore Hall.

Aria For … Wednesday – Lascia ch’io pianga (Rinaldo)

Every morning I hit random on my iPod and listen to the first aria that it delivers. It not only sets me up for the day but also more often than not reveals a piece that I have not heard or self-selected for a while.

So my first Aria … For Wednesday this morning was Lascia ch’io pianga.

It might be the most ‘common hackney’d’,, but it remains – for me – one of the most beautiful arias Handel ever wrote. And this particular performance by Yvonne Kenny is beautifully poignant.

Sensitively accompanied by the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra conducted by Paul Dyer, this is a performance of the utmost simplicity that finds Ms Kenny in superb voice. But what makes it all the more beautiful is the elegant and tasteful ornamention of the returning da capo. Some might argue that this aria – of all Handel’s arias – doesn’t require ornamentation in the da capo (For example Ms Kermes’ recent performance) but here Ms Kenny’s vocal flourishes are not only intelligent but underline the pathos of the aria.

Simply stunning.

What’s yours?

A Slice Of Quattro (Mezzo) Soprani

Sogno Barocco – Anne-Sofie von Otter (Sandrine Piau, Capella Mediterranea, Leonardo Garcia Alarcon)
Prima Donna – Karina Gauvin (Arion Baroque Orchestra, Alexander Wiemann)
Dramma – Simone Kermes (La Magnifica Comunità, Isabella Longo)
Amoretti – Christiane Karg (Arcangelo & Jonathan Cohen)

It seems that new CDs by leading singers are like buses. You wait ages and then a slew of them arrive at the same time. In the last few weeks I have bought no less than seven new recital discs. As well as those listed above I also have excellent recital discs by Joyce DiDonato and Soile Isokoski as well as Marie-Nicole Lemieux’s more lacklustre recital of Eighteenth Century arias. The latter bordering, sadly, on the disappointing.

While I will return to Mesdames DiDonato and Isokoski at a later date, the four recital CDs listed above have – to varying degrees – given me many hours of pleasure from repeated listening.

Heading the list – and rather unexpectedly I have to admit – is Swedish mezzo Anne-Sofie von Otter’s Sogno Barocco. I do not say unexpectedly from any sense that the recital isn’t of the very highest standard but rather this isn’t necessarily music that I more normally delve into.

But I am glad I did. I have always greatly admired Ms von Otter. Her luxuriant and characterful mezzo is combined with an intelligent yet impassioned approach to performance. As well as having many of her performances on CD, I have seen her in recital as well as in a broad range of operatic roles including as Brangäne in the Sellars/Viola Tristan und Isolde.

Following her magnificent disc of French arias, Ombre De Mon Amour with Les Arts Florissants and William Christie, Ms von Otter steps back further in time to the earliest Baroque opera composers and has created a recital interestingly coincidentally based on music for queens, either fictional or real. Accompanied by the excellent Capella Mediterranea under Leonardo Garcia Alarcon the listener is further spoiled – and there is no other word to use – by the appearance of Sandrine Piau in three tracks. As well as Monteverdi, Ms von Otter has built a recital that includes Rossi, Cavalli and a rather boisterous number by Provenzale.

The mood and standard is set immediately by Monteverdi’s Si dolce è ‘l tormento. The strophic structure of this song with it varied instrumental interludes is beguiling in its simplicity.

But the standout highlights of the recital are undoubtedly Pur to miro from Monteverdi’s L’Incoronazione di Poppea and her impassioned soliloquy Di misera regina from Il ritorno d’Ulisse. In the first and famous duet, Mesdames Otter and Piau wrap their vocal lines around one another with a sensuality that I’ve not heard matched in other performances, and after a rhythmically alert middle section what can only be described as an almost sexual tension is heightened in the melting beautiful da capo. And in the second, Ms von Otter ensures that each and every word is carefully weighed for its emotional content and woven into a grieving whole.

But while the selections from Monteverdi define the album, this recital disc includes numerous other gems that demand repeated listening. For example Cavalli’s Dolcissimi baci (La Calisto) and Doriclea lamento (Doriclea) or at the other end of the unusual scale, Rossi’s Lamento de la Regina di Suezia with contralto Susanna Sundberg. Here von Otter runs the gamut of a whole range of emotions including a most impressive ‘battaglia’ section. And on a more boisterous note there is Provenzale’s Squaciato appena havea.

Throughout von Otter is brilliantly accompanied by the players of Capella Mediterranea led by Leonardo Garcia Alarcon, and they provide a scattering of instrumental pieces throughout the recital alternating vigour with delicacy. Even if – like me – you are not normally an early Baroque enthusiast this is definitely a disc worth listening to.

Next was Karina Gauvin’s Prima Donna with the Arion Baroque Orchestra directed by Alexander Wiemann. All the arias on the disc were written for Anna Maria Strada del Pò and while the bulk of the arias are by Handel there are isolated arias by Vinci and Vivaldi. However it is with Handel that del Pò is mainly associated and for her he wrote key roles including Angelica in Orlando, Adelaida in Lotario and the title role in Partenope. Indeed it seems that Handel was responsible for her career as Charles Burney wrote she was “a singer formed by himself (Handel), and modelled on his own melodies. She came hither a coarse and awkward singer with improve talents, and he at last polished her into reputation and favour”. Sadly Burney cannot resist a rite critical stance on her appearance, writing “she had so little of the Venus in her appearance, that she was usually called the Pig”. Not something critics today would dare write methinks.

I tried very hard to love this recital disc as much as I have loved previous recordings by Ms Gauvin as well as her live performances. But after repeated listening – and I am sure I will return to it again and again – all I can admit to is admiring Ms Gauvin’s technical proficiency combined with her bright and sonorous soprano. But bar a few fleeting moments when she almost gets under the skin of the music, these are ‘glossy’ performances.

There’s little ‘bite’ or colour and very little interpretation. But she can throw off the coloratura as witnessed by a rather jaunty Scherza in mar from Lotario and Angelica’s No, non potra dirmi ingrata that opens the recital.

The moments where there are glimpses of what could have been are in the three numbers from Alcina – Ah! Ruggiero, crudel … Ombre pallide, Si, non quella and – what must be one of my favourite of all Handel’s arias – Ah! Mio cor. Here the emotional temperature gets above lukewarm but never to boiling point.

I think it part it is due to the colourless – almost polite and reserved – playing of the Arion Baroque Orchestra and direction of Wiemann. Even the orchestral excerpts – including the rather odd decision to throw in a rather scratchy Grave from Handel’s Concerto Grosso in c minor for his Opus 6 collection – are lacklustre.

So in the end a disappointing disc that does very little to demonstrate Ms Gauvin’s very obvious musicianship and vocal brilliance.

Simone Kermes’ album Dramma delves into the world of the castrato with a disc of music of composers Giuseppe de Majo, Porpora, Pergolesi and Leo together with a single yet highly memorable Handel aria with great verve delivered in spades. And many of the arias world-premiere recordings.

Ms Kermes has carved out a place for herself as a coloratura soprano of some standing and this disc reinforces this position with authority. Not only is she in magnificent form but she digs deep to find the emotional dimension in each aria.

I don’t know if it’s my disc but the opening aria, de Majo’s Per trionfar pugnando has a scratchy opening almost as if listening to an old 78 but it doesn’t distract from the brilliance of the orchestral playing – and in particular the trumpets – or Ms Kermes’ vocal security and polished tone.

Indeed Ms Kermes throws out the challenging coloratura of many of the arias with both enviable ease and accuracy. For example in Empi, se mai disciplogo, Leo’s Son qual nave in ria procella with its pinpoint delivery or Pergolesi’s Sul mio cor.

But one of the most beautiful arias on this disc is Alto Giove from Porpora’s Polifemo and coming as the second track underlines the breadth of Ms Kermes talent. The momentum – almost nervous pulse – of the accompaniment belies the beautiful vocal line that Ms Kermes spins above it. Her opening phrase – the simple dynamic control she exerts – is a lesson in musicianship and following the short middle section it’s return is stunning. This is the most wonderful preghiera.

In a similar vein is Porpora’s lilting Le limpid’onde from Ifiginie in Aulide with its luminous wind writing. Charming.

Hasse is represented by two arias and the first, Consola il genitore, has Ms Kermes accompanied only by harpsichord. The sheer simplicity of this aria is in stark contrast after the seven preceding arias yet the exposed vocal line is beautifully delivered. In the scheme of Hasse’s L’Olimpiade from which this is taken, it must have been an incredible moment.

Handel is represented by Lascia ch’io pianga. A difficult aria to carry off normally here it is nothing short of a heart-stopping event in this recital. The hushed da capo, almost totally unadorned in any way, is reason enough to buy this disc.

The orchestral playing under Isabella Longo as I have already said, is of the highest standard. Listen to the bold contrapuntal opening of Vedrà turbato il mare for example or the delicacy of Tace l’augello with its solo string writing complimenting Ms Kermes superbly. But perhaps the greatest evidence of the evident joy of La Magnifica Comunitá is Porpora’s Se dopo ria procella with its nothing less than raunchy but accurate horn playing.

Christiane Karg is new to me but Amoretti – with arias by Mozart, Gluck and Grétry – is a gem.

Ms Karg has a beautifully clear and bell-like soprano combined with very sure technique. The opening aria from La Finta Giardinera – and the title of the album – is beautifully presented and sets the standard for the remaining arias by Mozart as well as the whole disc.

Ferma aspetta … Infelici affetti miei from Ascanio in Alba belies how young Mozart was when he wrote it and Ms Karg invests it with suitable dramatic power. And this emotional investment comes to the fore in the scena from Lucio Silla, Fra i pensier.

Mitridate’s Lunga da te is taken at a daringly measured pace but has both a superb horn obbligato and wonderful elegant legato phrasing from Ms Karg.

And if anyone is in doubt of Ms Karg’s technique then Biancheggia from Il Sogno di Scipione will dispel any concerns as she veritably flings out the divisions with incredible ease.

The selections from Gluck include the rarely performed Soumis au silence from Orphée et Euridice and Sacre Piante from Il Parnasso Confuso but it is the Adieu from Iphigénie en Aulide which stands out. Crystal clear diction and a real sympathy for the rhythmic structure of the vocal line, Ms Karg is a natural Gluckist.

But the real finds of this recital are the arias by André Ernest Modeste Grétry. In my teenage years, rummaging through a second-hand record shop I came across a recording of Grétry’s – I’m pretty sure it was his Richard, Cœur de Lion. At the time I remember trying anything from the Eighteenth century ‘rather than’ Mozart but have to admit that having got it home I was more than a little disappointed.

Having revisited Grétry more than once since it is no small shame that he is not performed more often, especially based in the selections made here. Comme in éclair from La fausse Magpie written in 1775 is an exercise in Galanterie and clearly influenced not only by his time in Italy but by a plethora of Italian contemporaries in its composition. Again the coloratura here holds no fears for Ms Karg and her vocal technique shines through.

Il va venir! … Pardonne o mon Juge from Silvain was a comédie written five years earlier and again clearly owes much to Italian opera. Following a well-crafted accompanied section the subsequent aria with its oboe interjections is almost Mozartian – early Mozart.

The third aria, Au bien supreme from the comédie Lucille was written in 1769 owes something to Gluck in its woodwind colouring.

Perhaps it’s about time that the spotlight was shine more fully on Monsieur Grétry. Any offers?

And throughout Ms Karg is confidently supported by Arcangelo under Jonathan Cohen. As in their disc with Iestyn Davies Cohen and the players demonstrate their instinctive talent and musicianship.

Another slice anyone?

Piau Wows

Review – “Ruhe sanft” – A Mozart Kaleidoscope (Wigmore Hall, Monday 15 October 2012)

Sandrine Piau (Soprano)
Jonathan Manson (Cello)
The Orchestra of Classical Opera

Ian Page (Conductor)

It was quite simply an evening of the highest standard of musicianship from French soprano Sandrine Piau, brilliantly and sympathetically supported by the Orchestra of Classical Opera under Ian Page.

The narrative of the concert included arias spanning the beginning and closing years of Mozart life, including his interest with Handel. Inspired by his discovery of JS Bach and Handel the concert opened with a dramatic, rhythmically alert and sonorous performance of Mozart’s Adagio & Fugue in c minor. The Adagio had all the tension of coiling a spring before the release of the fugue, driven forward with incredible care given to the individual lines by Page right into the stretto at the end.

Also in the first half the Orchestra gave a spirited performance of Mozart’s Symphony in F written when he was only nine years old but only discovered in 1981. What’s so clearly evident – as it was with the Orchestra of the Age of the Enlightenment only a few weeks ago – is the very clear enjoyment and pleasure that this ensemble has in music making. I’m beginning to wonder in fact if this evident enjoyment on the stage is unique to original instrument ensembles as I rarely see more ‘traditional’ orchestras even crack a smile when playing. Playing all the repeats again Page kept the tempos brisk and drove the music forward with rhythmic vitality.

Ms Piau first took to the stage with an aria from Mozart’s arrangement of Handel’s Ode for St Cecilia’s Day, Leidenschaften stillt und weckt Musik, more commonly known as ‘What passion cannot Music raise and quell’ and an aria that Ms Piau has committed to disc recently.

Jonathan Manson, principal cellist with the Orchestra of Classical Opera deserves special mention for his delicate and fluid playing of the obbligato in this aria as well as one of two encores performed at the end of the evening. His rich, suave tone was a pleasure to listen to and he complimented Ms Piau perfectly.

The actual arrangement of this aria by Mozart made the original by Handel seem – to me at any rate – more like Haydn. Almost like something that would be out of place in The Creation for example.

Ms Piau immediately demonstrated why she is one of the leading sopranos. Her sure and solid technique combined with musical intelligence and eloquence underpins a voice of great beauty and character which is warm, bronzed almost, and even.

Ms Piau bestowed on Mozart’s arrangement of this aria a serenity that had the audience enthralled from the moment she began to sing.

Next she sang an aria from Mozart’s own oratorio, Die Schuldigkeit des ersten Gebots, performed in 1767. Mozart only provided music for a single act, sharing the commission with Michael Haydn and Anton Adlgasser. Classical Opera are to make a recording of this for 2013 so it will be interesting to be able to compare the three composers side by side.

The aria itself, Ein ergrimmter Löwe brüllet (An Enraged Lion Roars) is a typical metaphor aria in da capo form where the middle section, with it’s reference to Mercy, is gentler and slower. While it can’t compare with later vocal number by Mozart it was a charming aria and showed that even at the age of eleven he could not only write confidently but had a clear understanding of the voice.

And Ms Piau imbued the aria with an emotional intensity that made you forget that this was in fact the work of a child – albeit it prodigy. I do hope that Ian Page has persuaded Ms Piau to participate.

I own – and I can’t recommend it enough – Ms Piau’s recital disc of Mozart arias with the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra. Some of the arias from that disc she performed at Wigmore Hall and the first of these was Grazie al Numi … Nel grave tormento from Mitridate, re di Ponto, written by Mozart for Milan in 1771, a year before Lucio Silla.

Perhaps because it was a live performance, but compared to her rendition on the disc, that evening this aria seethed with emotion. And if anything, with the passage of time her voice had grown in terms of depth and lustre while at the same time losing neither its flexibility nor range. And the way she delivered the allegro coloratura – like bullets out of a gun – demonstrated her incredible technique.

Post the interval, Ms Piau returned for two arias from La Finta Giardinera – Geme la tortorella and Crudeli, oh Dio! Fermate … Ah dal pianto, dal singhiozzo. Written for the character of Sandrina, the are arias of contrasting emotions which Ms Piau carried off with both vocal and emotional aplomb. Similarly, in the second aria, Ms Piau handled the feisty accompagnato with a dramatic intensity that she carried into the ensuing aria.

In the first aria, supported by gentle yet precise playing from Classical Opera, Ms Piau demonstrated again that Mozart not only knew how to write for the voice but write with suitably tinged pathos.

I cannot admit to knowing all of Mozart’s symphonies and therefore the Orchestra of Classical Opera’s performance next of Symphony No. 27 in G Major was a nice surprise as I tend to start at Symphony No. 32 and move upwards. But this symphony is a real ‘Galant’ gem while at the same time acting as a precursor to the aforementioned symphony in many ways. The lilting triple time opening movement is followed by an gentle, almost rustic Andantino grazioso with rippling triplets and some delightful major-minor mode changes and some closing cadential humour. The contrapuntal final movement has distinct echoes of Mozart’s final symphony. It is definitely worth a listen.

Ms Piau then returned to the stage for her final two arias from Zaide. Ruhe sanft – with James Eastaway’s beguiling oboe obbligato – was taken at a speed slower than normal but not as slow as on her recital disc. Yet the tempo allowed Ms Piau to relish the vocal line especially in the melismas of the closing bars. Yet it was her performance of Tiger! Wetze nur die Klauen which was almost the finest performance of the evening. Again the soprano inhabited the role from the first outburst but never let the emotion blur the purity of her singing.

I say it was almost the finest performance of the evening but Ms Piau delighted the audience with two superb encores.

The first was Mozart’s arrangement of Softly Sweet, In Lydian Measures from Handel’s Alexander’s Feast once again beautifully complemented by the obbligato playing of Jonathan Manson.

And with the second encore Ian Page informed the audience that he was sending us home “with death” – Verso gia l’alma col sangue from Handel’s Aci, Galatea e Polifemo.

It was the ultimate lesson in how perfect a performance can be. Over the gentlest string accompaniment Ms Piau unwound the delicate vocal line with passionate intensity.

It was a most exquisite death and the perfect end to a perfect evening.

Dancers In The Dark

Review – Julius Caesar, English National Opera (Thursday 4 October 2012)

Julius Caesar – Lawrence Zazzo
Cleopatra – Anna Christy
Cornelia – Patricia Bardon
Sesto – Daniela Mack
Ptolemy -Tim Mead
Achillas – Andrew Craig Brown
Curio – George Humphreys
Nirenus – James Laing

Fabulous Beast Dance Company

Director & Choreographer – Michael Keegan-Dolan
Costume – Doey Lüthi
Lighting – Adam Silverman

Conductor – Christian Curmyn

For the record, I wore jeans and trainers to last night’s performance of Julius Caesar – pace Giulio Cesare – at English National Opera. And I wasn’t alone. Somehow I think ENO’s latest bid to get ‘young people’ through the doors will fall flat. It doesn’t matter what you wear to the opera – one gent was in a track suit – as long as what is happening on stage commands your complete and total attention.

Sadly, ENO’s new production of Giulio Cesare did not.

John Berry continues with his obsession of employing ‘creatives’ who have no or little track record of previously directing opera. I am not saying that on occasion – a rare occasion – he doesn’t score a success. I am thinking in particular of Anthony Minghella’s cinematic production of Madame Butterfly. It may not have plumbed the depths of characterisation but it was certainly memorable.

Others have not been so fortunate. Terry Gilliam’s Faust was – after all the hype – disappointing; Figgis’ Lucia di Lammermoor was nothing less than bel canto cannibalisation and Rufus Norris’ Don Giovanni mistook crass violence for drama.

For this venture at the self-dubbed ‘House of Handel’ Berry selected to work with Michael Keegan-Dolan in a co-production with the latter’s Fabulous Beast Dance Company. Previous credits for Keegan-Dolan include ENO’s production of Alcina, which I remember with some fondness for the elegance of its choreography and their more recent production of The Rite of Spring, which I did not see.

ENO has assembled a pretty strong ensemble of singers for this venture. Led by Lawrence Zazzo it included Anna Christy, Patricia Bardon and Tim Mead whom I have seen before as well as Daniela Mack, Andrew Craig Brown, George Humphreys and James Laing.

And in the pit, Christian Curmyn.

On paper it all looked so promising. And overall musically it was.

Zazzo’s voice may have lost some of its bite and attractive starchiness over the years but he still sounds beautiful. He can still produce a gently honeyed tone although perhaps now there is a little less colour and shade throughout his still considerable range. And he has lost none of the vocal agility for which he is renowned and which was tested to the full in this role. I won’t go so far as to say his Cesare was a tour de force but there were moments of great beauty. In particular in the third act, his Aure, Deh, Pietà was just short of stunning and thankfully devoid of much of the pointless direction that littered the evening.

Before the metaphorical curtain rose, we were informed that Ms Christy was suffering from a severe cold. Apart from a slight hint of tightness at the top of her range and the smallest hint of flagging just before she rallied for the final duet, hers was an accomplished performance as Cleopatra. She handled the florid runs and her da capo ornamentation with gusto and almost pinpoint accuracy. I imagine that when she is fully recovered her voice will have an added softness that was sometimes missing on Thursday evening. Her V’adoro, Pupille – sung rather smartly I admit as a nightclub singer – was suitably graceful and light and her final aria – Piangerò la sorte mia – was heartfelt if lacking in the subtle vocal colouring that would have made it more memorable. However there was no faulting the end of the second act and Che sento? Oh Dio! Se Pietà di me non senti. Here Christy delivered a mesmerising, undistracted performance, emotionally focused and beautiful of tone. It was – for me – the highlight of the evening.

Patricia Bardon got off to a rocky start. Her opening aria Priva son d’ogni conforto – a pitfall for many singers exactly because of its simplicity – was too heavily sung but she got into her stride and by the duet at the end of Act One was in fine voice. She does have a slight tendency to untidiness in her ornamentation in the da capo return but the depth and richness of her voice always makes her a joy to listen to.

Tim Mead as Ptolemy was both vocally secure, with a pleasant bell-like tone sufficiently distinct to his Roman nemesis with confident technique to manage the coloratura. And Daniela Mack – in her Coliseum debut – was a striking Sesto. Played inexplicably as a girl, Mack’s Sesto was the character who most clearly evolved from child to avenger in the course of the opera. However how much this was due to Keegan-Dolan’s direction rather than her interpretation of Handel’s music and her own talent is open to question. Again her bright soprano eased through the music with agility and precise coloratura. I look forward to seeing more of Ms Mack on stage.

Curmyn led the orchestra with finesse. But as I remarked when he conducted Castor et Pollux, there was a lack of orchestral light and dark amongst the players – he didn’t really delve deeply into the sound world that Handel so carefully wove into the score. But his rhythms were sharp and crisp and he maintained a good sense of momentum through the recitatives. My only gripe is that sometimes his tempi erred on the side of haste. In particular in the wonderful duet between mother and daughter/son Son nata a lagrimar and Cleopatra’s Piangerò, where a little more breadth was really needed to do full justice to the music.

Unfortunately the quality and thoughtfulness given over to the casting and music was badly missing from Keegan-Dolan’s directing and choreography.

Bar one single instance of inspiration the entire evening was nothing short than a slow-footed mess. My heart sank when I first entered the auditorium to find the curtain pulled back to reveal the stage. This was a device used most recent at ENO by Barry Kosky in Castor et Pollux. But whereas his stage was empty, Keegan-Dolan’s revealed a suspended stuffed crocodile and a giraffe loitering at the back of the stage like a Toys R Us after a raid by particularly misbehaved children. I would like to think that the director selected the crocodile because of it’s Renaissance symbolism – as suggested in one review – but I think it had more to do with the geographical location of the opera and the allure of a cheap visual gag.

I also cannot fathom the reason why corps de ballet were on stage throughout except that the restrictive set design did not facilitate easy access or exit either stage left or right. When they weren’t dancing they were tidying up, pouring fake blood over the singers or sitting in one of the trenches.

And so to the dancing. I didn’t find it distracting overall but I do question what artistic or narrative value it added. I am not opposed to dance in opera – even when it isn’t implicitly written into the score. I think back to Alcina and the charming way Tornami a vagheggiar closed the first act. By Keegan-Dolan I note.

In this production’s programme the director/choreographer wrote that the dances reflected “the yearning of the characters to connect with the universal and express each characters’ attempt to find resolution and end their suffering.”

Really?

I am not expert in the vocabulary of dance but if the movements of the dancers were meant to express the feelings of the dancers then Keegan-Dolan saw the characters as emotionally bland and simple ciphers. The same flailing movements occurred again and again and again, either in solo or ensemble or, quite tiringly, starting as solos and then gradually more dancers joined one by one.

Indeed the single moment of beauty and insight in this masterpiece of Handel’s was at the end of the Second Act. Cleopatra’s Se pietà was heartrending not only in her performance but in the direction. Why? Because the stage was devoid of any dancing or pointless activity so that everything was focused on Christy. It threw the rest of the Opera’s tediousness direction into sharp relief.

A few years back I saw Piña Bausch’s Iphigénie at Sadler’s Wells. I remember being sceptical as the curtain rose thinking how could anyone merge Gluck’s masterpiece with dance. Well Bausch achieved it, creating a work of infinite beauty and emotional depth, intelligence and impact. All sadly lacking from Keengan-Dolan’s interpretation.

Also in the programme Keegan-Dolan, almost in defence of his production it seems writes – “As a choreographer or director one is vulnerable to making the mistake of adding too many extra elements to what Handel has given us, when in fact all that is necessary is to excavate thoroughly what is already there and simply allow its implicit power to emerge.”

It’s a shame that he didn’t listen to his own advice. Apart from the visual gags, the dancing didn’t add anything and in fact – while not overtly distracting – seemed to afford him with something to hide behind similar to the sheet behind which the onstage orchestra performed for V’adoro pupille. It enabled him to overlook, or more damning, neglect the development of the characters in this, only of Handel’s most carefully written operas in terms of characterisation.

And as for his comment about apple pie – “Adding ice cream to cream already on a slice of apple tart will smother any taste of the apple” – I can only assume that Mr Keegan-Dolan has an over-sweet tooth artistically speaking as he simply cannot leave anything alone. Apart from the crocodile and the giraffe complete with its ripped out tongue, Keegan-Dolan persisted in cramming nonsense into the production. Balloons, Caesar for some unknown reason as cowboy cum big game hunter and out of the blue a single moment of cruelty that was completely out of kilter, unexpected and therefore totally unnecessary. I refer to Ptolemy’s treatment of his sister in the Third Act. The abuse – and there is not other word for it – was more akin to the work of Calixto Bieito but at least in the latter’s productions it is consistently applied. Here it felt simply felt contrived and a desperate attempt to lift the drama through tawdry shock tactics.

And not content with interfering with the narrative thigh his ideas, he messed with the story itself. Why was Sesto a young woman? There was absolutely no dramatic justification for it nor any explanation. Pointless.

As for the lighting and costumes. Bland. Why was Caesar in cowboy boots and vest and why did Cornelia look more like a shop assistant from Estée Lauder than a grieving widow?

But to return one final time to Keegan-Dolan’s own note in the programme he writes – “If you close your eyes and listen to Handel’s music …”.

I am not saying that the Fabulous Beast Dance Company are not talented but by the start of the Second Act it was a very tempting to,take the director up on his offer.

It’s a tragedy, almost of Classic proportions, that singing and musicianship of such a high standard was almost universally marred by a bad original idea and worse than dreadful direction. It’s even sadder that I think that this production of Giulio Cesare will never see the light of day again.

Indeed if this was the Roman Coliseum it would definitely be getting the thumbs down.

My Raptur’d Soul

Review – Arias For Guadagni
Iestyn Davies, Arcangelo & Jonathan Cohen

Guadagni was one of the most famous – or infamous – castrati of the Eighteenth Century and his career included close association with composers from Handel to Hasse and Gluck who’s Orfeo ed Euridice he championed.

After a shaky start his musical career blossomed and Charles Burney referred to him at least twice. In 1755 when he was in London he remarked on his “full and well-toned voice” and later when visiting Padua – where Guadagni later settled – he remarked that he was “for taste, expression, figure, and action … at the head of his profession”.

And these two descriptions could be similarly ascribed to Iestyn Davies. In the year that we are celebrating – even if it is in rather muted fashion – the centenary of the birth of Alfred Deller, the first great countertenor, it is only fitting that the Iestyn Davies’ talent is being fully recognised and his star is in the ascendant.

And among the numerous countertenors on the stage today it is refreshing that he hasn’t been subjugated by marketing but has focused on musicianship and intelligent performance.

That is not to say that his colleagues are not accomplished for the most part but in a sense Davies has more in common with Andreas Scholl’s scholarly and measured manner than his other European counterparts.

And the similarities in the timbre and the shape of their voices can’t be denied in my opinion. As well as seamless legato they both posses an evenness of tone throughout their range and a bell-like upper register without any sense of the harshness of their colleagues. There is something slightly more metallic and angular in the vocal timbres of a countertenor like Jaroussky or Cencic and to a certain extend Valer Barna-Sabadus but that is not to say that they are unattractive. They are simply the flip side of a vocal type that I do enjoy.

But Iestyn Davies is in an entirely different league. An intelligent performer, he has an incredible grasp of technique married with a faultless sense of interpretation.

I have seen and enjoyed Davies’ numerous stage performances over the years. Those that come most readily to mind are his performance as Creonte in Steffani’s Niobe at Covent Garden, a wonderful and poignant production, and his numerous roles for ENO including a beautiful performance in Mark Morris’ King Arthur, as Armindo in Partenope, and his magnificent Oberon in Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

And this recital disc, of arias written for the famous castrato Gaetano Guadagni, is simply brilliant and he is more than ably supported with a mix of gusto and delicacy by Jonathan Cohen and the players of Arcangelo.

From the hushed opening of O Lord, Whose Mercies Numberless to the closing aria on the disc composed by Guadagni himself, Davies’ musicianship and simple enjoyment of the arias he sings is manifest. All combined with crystal diction effortless technique.

His Handel is unsurpassed. The purity and control of the vocal line combined with the dignity he imbues in the embellishments in the opening aria from Solomon sets the standard for the entire disc. And The Raptur’d Soul from Theodora has a true sense of rhythmic alertness in the triplet flourishes combined with real fluid legato. And – as I have said before – how refreshing not to have the da capo too heavily ornamented.

Yet, Can I Hear That Dulcet Lay, from The Choice of Hercules is exquisite and sadly so rarely heard and again plays to the strengths of Davies technique as he spins out the gentle coloratura with complete ease.

However the ‘Handel highlight’ of the disc is the magnificently martial Destructive War, Thy Name Is Known from Belshazzar. Davies flings out the divisions with abandon and is brilliantly supported by bright yet light playing from the players and in particularly the crisply articulated brass. Whole I thought Marie Nicole Lemieux was enjoyable this Iestyn Davies’ rendition is stellar.

Hasse is a countertenor’s dream and quite rightly as he wrote some of his most beautiful music for castrati. Like Barna-Sabadus he opts for a selection from Didone Abbandonata but not the same arias.

Ah, Che dissi! … Se Resto Sul Lido with its accompagnato and then unexpected slow opening vocal section is a real gallant gem with the tempo changes expertly handled by both singer and orchestra. And Davies never makes the short declamatory phrase sound clipped or snatched as might be expected. And again he avoids the temptation to over-ornament in the returning opening section.

The martial returns with Odi Colà La Frigia Tomba? … A Triofar Mi Chiama with its impressive horn playing and Lombardy snaps and also give ample opportunity to enjoy the breadth of Davies vocal range and especially the bell-like upper notes I referred to earlier.

Guadagni didn’t not only sing Handel roles when he was in London and Davies includes two arias by English composers. The first is from JC Smith’s The Fairies Say, Lovely Dream and the second is from Thomas Arne’s Alfred, Vengeance, Oh Come Inspire Me. The former aria is deceptively simple with its gentle and murmuring string writing below a vocal line that belies its simplicity and requires a strong and confident technique to deliver its sustained notes and high tessitura as well as the delicate roulades and trills. The Arne is almost a typical period ‘vengeance’ aria that Davies dispatches with the necessary vigour and bite. What makes it more notable is Arne’s use of unison between voice and orchestra as well as use of dramatic pauses.

It makes one wish that Davies and these players will consider a disc of arias by Handel’s English contemporaries and successors alone.

But if I had the tiniest reservations with the disc it is this – the inclusion of a symphony by CPE Bach. I am not convinced by the argument made in the sleeve note. Again don’t misunderstand me, I love CPE Bach’s symphonies and it is brilliantly played with real Emfndsamer-stil style, but that is exactly the problem. The narrative of the disc works for me in terms of Handel to Hasse to Handel’s contemporaries to finally Gluck. CPE Bach is literally world’s apart in terms of style and emotion.

But as I have said it is a small price to pay. And in some ways it serves to clean the palette in preparation for Davies’ Gluck.

From Telemaco comes Ah! Non Turbi Il Mio Riposo with its doleful oboe obbligato and hesitant phrasing. Davies captures the poignantly of this aria beautifully while maintaining the exposed legato vocal line.

The most startling thing about the opening bars of the arioso Che Puro Ciel! from Orfeo ed Euridice is how – for some reason – it reminded me of Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony. I can only put this down to the wonderfully articulated playing of the orchestra. A real moment and this is heightened when Davies enters and there is no sense that the orchestra is in any muted below the singer. I don’t think I have heard this arioso performed with such clarity and beauty in a long time.

One review I read that said that Davies didn’t convincingly carry off the broad phrases in Orfeo. I don’t agree at all. If anything Davies elegant phrasing and attention to the words highlights the simplicity of Che Farò to greater effect.

The final aria of the recital, Pensa a sebarmi o cara, was written by Guadagni himself. To be honest after the gems that precede it his own aria – while clearly playing to his vocal abilities – is a pleasant enough example of galanterie but nothing more.

Yet it doesn’t detract from the overall impact of either the entire recital or Iestyn Davies’ talent.

This is a hugely enjoyable recital and one I return to often. I am looking forward to his performance at Wigmore Hall this November and in advance of that I heartily recommend this disc to everyone.

Vocalympics 2012

Review – Handel & The Rival Queens (St. John’s, Smith Square, Saturday 26 May 2012) and L’Olimpiade (Queen Elizabeth Hall, Monday 28 May 2012)

Handel & The Rival Queens, Lufthansa Baroque Festival
Lisa Milne (Francesca Cuzzoni)
Mhairi Lawson (Faustina Bordoni)
Christopher Benjamin (Narrator)

Early Opera Company
Conductor – Christian Curnyn

L’Olimpiade
Megacle – Romina Basso
Licida – Delphine Galou
Aristea – Ruth Rosique
Argene – Luanda Siqueira
Clistene – Jeremy Ovenden
Aminta – Nicholas Spanos

Venice Baroque Opera
Conductor – Andrea Marcon

Two different concerts but both based around the idea of competition and rivalry.

Vocalympics in a sense and if you’ll pardon the simplistic play on words.

First up was a concert based on the legendary rivalry of Cuzzoni and Bordoni in Handel’s London. The idea of Handel’s “rival queens” is not new. There is a magnificent CD with Emma Kirkby and Catherine Bott for example and I can’t believe that this is the first concert to emulate this moment in time. Indeed Handel himself wrote for both these prima donne in Alessandro as I have mentioned before.

Christian Curmyn and his exemplary Early Opera Company were joined by Mhairi Lawson and Lisa Milne, a late stand in for Rosemary Joshua who cancelled for personal reasons. And as narrator there was Christopher Benjamin. I was not wholly convinced by his contribution and while the anecdotes were amusing some seemed overlong.

However the quality of the singing and musicianship was incredibly high. It’s been a while since I’ve heard Mhairi Lawson and was slightly anxious as the last time her performance was marred by over indulgent vibrato. I couldn’t have been more pleasantly surprised and enamoured of her performance as her voice had a bright and elegant sheen and she excelled in the virtuosity demands of the music, throwing out clean and accurate coloratura and embellishments throughout. The highlights were Brilla nell’ alma from Handel’s Alessandro and Son qual misera colomba from Hasse’s Cleofide. Lisa Milne valiantly and most ably stepped into the breach in place of Ms Joshua. Her richer and more resonant soprano was a perfect foil to Lawson’s and while her embellishments were not as sophisticated as her colleagues – perhaps as a result of being a late stand-in – hers was nevertheless a great performance with Che sento … Per pietà from Giulio Cesare and Porpora’s Miseri, sventurati, poveri affetti miei both displaying the polar opposites of her talent.

Yet – and quite rightly – the final duet proved the ultimate highlight of the concert as their voices melded together seamlessly.

Curmyn and his orchestra played with get poise and style. Tempos were easy and there was real bite in the strings and bar a few intonation problems in the Porpora, the oboists were suitably mellifluous. So all in all a very enjoyable evening.

And it was inevitable that the classical world would provide its own homage to the forthcoming Olympics. The Lufthansa Baroque Festival performed Vivaldi’s opera L’Olimpiade and Andrea Marcon and his Venice Baroque Orchestra’s contribution was a pastiche opera – which they have also recorded – using Metastasio’s same libretto as its basis. This libretto was first used in 1733 by Caldara as well as composers as diverse as Galuppi and Leo on the one hand to Mysliveček, Piccinni and Cherubini from the other end of the century. All featured here alongside Vivaldi, Gassmann, Jommelli and Traetta as well as a new composer to me, Davide Perez.

While in principle a clever idea, it tripped over a few hurdles on the night. First and foremost the orchestra led by Marcon, was ragged. Entries were disconcertingly imprecise, tuning was often awry and Marcon’s own tempi were more often than not rushed and hence unsympathetic to the singers. It was this that in my opinion was the root cause of the lower than expected quakity of the playing from the orchestra. This marred some of the more beautiful arias that evening and in particular Jommelli’s Lo sequitai felice where the oboes and French horns simply struggled as did mezzo soprano Romina Basso herself.

That was a shame as Signora Basso was one of two singers who clearly deserved Olympian laurels on the evening. Hers is a velvety and sonorous mezzo soprano voice and once I had become used to her slightly eccentric mannerisms it was a joy to sit back and listen to her. From her opening aria, Superbo di me stesso she commanded the stage and audience throughout the evening. Similarly the second mezzo Delphine Galou displayed both great technique and musicianship – her Mentre dormi by Vivaldi being the highlight of the evening.

The other singers were of varying success. Luanda Siqueira had a bright soprano but would have benefitted from not singing into her score for the majority of the evening while Ruth Rosique, albeit a convincing actress, had a tendency to shrillness in her upper register as she snatched the higher notes. Of the two men, Jeremy Ovenden was a fluid if bland tenor and Nicholas Spanos had gentle timbred pleasantly reedy countertenor but lacked sufficient support to project the bottom notes of his range.

However the one nagging question for me was this – had Marcon simply chosen too many composers? Like a child when confronted by too much choice in the candy shop, had he over-indulged in his choices over too great a span of time? As a result, stylistically his Vivaldi sounded like his Hasse which sounded like his Jommelli which sounded like his Cherubini. Indeed Cherubini complete with harpsichord and lute – strange. Perhaps a narrower range of composers would have left a more stylistically coherent performance at the end of the evening.

Yet it was an interesting experiment. I have purchased the CD and happily admit that I listen to it a great deal mainly because Marcon adopts a more measured pace which allows the beauty of the individual arias stand out, and in particular the aforementioned Jommelli. But at the end of the day it remains more a compilation of charming arias than a coherent pastiche opera seria.

Further Reading
1. An Invigorating Dasch Through Mozart. Enjoyment Assured.
2. Review – Prima Donna. Vivaldi Arias (Nathalie Stutzmann & Orfeo 55)
3. Handel With Care