Oberon's Grove

Ô Lumière de Troie!

Above: The Ghost of Hector appears to Aeneas; Henri Fantin-Latour (1836-1904)

Hector Berlioz's LES TROYENS is a unique masterpiece. The libretto was written by Berlioz himself, drawn from Virgil's epic poem The Aeneid. The two-part opera was composed between 1856 and 1858. Berlioz did not live to see a complete performance of the work.

Every time I listen to LES TROYENS, I'm thrilled by its power, mystery, and tragic sense of doom. The scene where the slumbering Aeneas is visited by the Ghost of Hector has become, over the years, a particularly moving one for me. 

AENEAS:

"Oh, light of Troy!...Oh, glory of the Trojans!
From what fated region do you return? Your eyes are veiled.
Hector, what summons you back from the dead?"

THE GHOST OF HECTOR:

"Ah!... flee, son of Venus!
The enemy is within our walls! The whole of Troy crumbles!
A hurricane of flames engulfs our temples and palaces.
To save the soul of Troy
Pergamus commands you: Go, seek Italy!
After a perilous journey over the waves,
You shall found a mighty empire
That shall dominate the world.
There, a hero’s death awaits you."

The Trojan soldiers rush in, confirming that the city is being destroyed. Aeneas leads them into the fray.

PRISE DE TROIE ~ O lumière de Troie! - Nicolai Gedda - Plinio Clabassi - RAI 1969

Alma Mahler: Muse or Monster?

Above: Alma Maria Mahler Gropius Werfel

Wednesday, May 18th, 2022 - Aspect Chamber Music Series presenting works by Alma and Gustav Mahler, Korngold, and Zemlinsky at the Italian Academy. In the days leading up to this concert, I watched again the remarkable film Bride of the Wind; read about it here.

I had not realized that this evening would include a lecture; I generally avoid such events, though tonight's commentary was not overly long. However, it was not until the lights went down and an announcement was made that wearing masks during the performance was "optional" that I realized how many people around us did not have masks on. Had I known this in advance, I would never have attended. But the lights were down and it would have been impossible to exit without disturbing people. So we stayed for the first half, feeling quite uncomfortable.

As a sort of unannounced prelude to the evening, pianist Adam Golka (above) played a Chopin nocturne with ravishing finesse. This established a beautiful musical atmosphere which was sustained throughout the performance.

A screen was then lowered and musicologist Nicholas Chong spoke of Alma's famed beauty and of the many men in her life, while photos of the lady and her suitors were shown. What a life she led! Of course, many of her adventures are spoken of in the film Bride of the Wind. It might have been illuminating to hear more about her musical education and of her small catalog of surviving works, though.

Alexander Zemlinsky was Alma's music teacher...and her lover. Tonight, Zemlinsky's Three Pieces for Cello and Piano were performed for us by the Escher Quartet's marvelous cellist Brook Speltz (photo above), with Mr. Golka at the keyboard. The first of these, Humoreske, is a folkish piece that turns lyrical. Then comes Lied, a song of poignant beauty which expresses a sense of longing. The third piece, Tarantella, is a lively dance. To each of the three, Mr. Speltz brought his trademark warmth and expressiveness, well-matched by Mr. Golka's sensitive and rhythmically deft playing.

Two sets of songs, four by Gustav Mahler and five by Alma Mahler, brought forth mezzo-soprano Rebecca Ringle Kamarei (above) and the Canadian pianist Brian Wagorn. Ms. Kamarei, a comely woman with a unique voice and a sure sense of feminine power, looked striking in a black gown trimmed with golden vine-like appliqué.

From Gustav Mahler's vast song repertoire, Ms. Kamarei opened her set with the dramatic "Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht"; her voice instantly captivated me with its distinctive colour-palette size, a compelling command of dynamics, and a thoughtful way with words.  Continuing with the familiar "Rheinlegendchen", the singer was sailing along beautifully when she had a momentary memory lapse and needed a re-set...this was charmingly handled, and she and the pianist resumed their music-making. In two of my most beloved songs from the Rückert-Lieder, "Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft" and "Liebst du um Schönheit", Ms. Kamarei and Mr. Wagorn wove their spell thru the dreamy passages of the first song to the wryly romantic sensibilities of the second.

Above: pianist Bruce Wagorn

The five Alma Mahler songs drew my companion and me into even higher regard for Ms. Karamei and Mr. Wagorn. In "Die stille stadt", the singer gave the signature descending phrases a nice sense of quiet drama; an unfortunate cellphone intrusion did not deter her from her poetic path: she displayed the great power of her voice, then reined it in to an impressive piano with complete control The pianist's lovely postlude gave the song a perfectly polished end.

During "Laue Sommernacht", the singer's expressive hands were captivating to watch. Again, her assurance of dynamic 'rightness' found her skillfully pulling back from forte to piano, making an exciting effect. This songs ends quietly; throughout, Mr. Wagorn was the ideal collaborator. In "Bei dir ist es traut", lyrical expressiveness and finely-shaded vocal colours kept us riveted to the music; and the gentle sway of the song's central section had its own allure. 

Mr. Wagorn's gently restless piano figurations created the right summertime mood for "Ich wandle unter Blumenen";  but the singer cannot suppress a sudden burst of drama when she feels the desperate need for her lover's embrace: her ardour creates a touch of witty irony. 

Finally came "Lobgesang", a song of praise. Introspective at the start, the music becomes quite grand. By now we are under Ms. Kamarei's spell, and wanting to hear her in...some Wagner: Fricka and Waltraute came immediately to mind, as did - of course - the Wesendonck Lieder.

Meanwhile, our desire to escape became more urgent as the unmasked couple in front of us began coughing the moment the music ended. We left hastily, regretting that we were missing the concert's Korngold finale.

~ Oberon

Rysanek's Penultimate Met Senta

Above: Leonie Rysanek as Senta; photo by Louis Melançon

The final scene of FLIEGENDE HOLLANDER from the Metropolitan Opera performance of February 12th, 1970. This was Leonie's penultimate Senta at The Met, though of course at the time we did not know this.  Thomas Stewart sang the Dutchman and Robert Nagy sang Erik. The conductor was Karl Böhm.

Rysanek struggled a bit with the arduous tessitura of the Senta-Dutchman duet in Act II, but in the opera's final scene, she was blazing away.

Listen here:

HOLLANDER - finale of the opera - Robt Nagy - Rysanek - Thomas Stewart - Met 2~12~70

CMS ~ Carnival of the Animals

Author: Oberon

Sunday May 15th, 2022 - The final program of the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center's 2021-2022 season...and what a season it has been! Great programs played by fantastic musicians for attentive, engaged, and enthusiastic audiences. This evening's program - and the line-up of musicians - gave great pleasure, from first note to last.

Above, the artists of the Miró Quartet: William Fedkenheuer, John Larges, Joshua Gindele, and Daniel Ching, in a Jeff Wilson photo. The Miró players, whether as an ensemble or as individuals, played a major role in the evening's success.

Opening the concert, Heinrich von Biber's Sonata representativa in A-major for Violin and Continuo, C. 146 (B. IV 184) (c. 1669) brought forth Mr. Fedkenheuer as solo violinist with Mr. Gindele's cello and Michael Stephen Brown at the harpsichord giving the continuo a fine polish. This sonata is in nine movements, some of them named for various birds and other creatures.

It opens with a stately Allegro, with fanfare-like passages. We then hear from the Nightingale, wherein the violinist executes flourishes of coloratura over sustained cello phrases. The cello plays the two-note Cuckoo motif next, followed by the slashing, discordant hops of The Frog. Cock and Hens starts slowly and then turns rapid and screechy. By contrast, the gracious Quail drew lovely playing from all three musicians. Then  Mr. Fedkenheuer had fun producing "meows" on his violin for the hilarious Cat. The gallant Musketeers March found Mr. Gindele drumming on his cello; the sonata ends with an elegant Allemande.

Soprano Erika Baikoff of he Metropolitan Opera Young Artists Program then appeared, in a striking creamy-white gown, to sing Handel's “Sweet Bird” for from L’Allegro, il Pensieroso ed il Moderato (composed 1740). The renowned flautist Tara Helen O'Connor provided the sweetest bird-calls imaginable whilst Mr. Gindele and pianist Lucille Chung (lovely in an aquamarine frock) were the continuo duo. The voice of Miss Baikoff, an excellent Xenia in the Met's BORIS GODUNOV earlier this season, at first seemed overly large and vibrant in the space; but she quickly found her footing, with some nimble fiorature and alluring straight tones. Ms. O'Connor's playing was simply enchanting.

The Miró Quartet then gave an exemplary performance of Franz Joseph Haydn's Quartet in D-major for Strings, Hob. III:63, Op. 64, No. 5, “The Lark”, dating from 1790) this quartet is known as “The Lark” because of the soaring, circling violin melody in the first movement, but that designation did not come from the composer.

The opening movement, Allegro moderato, finds Daniel Ching’s violin soaring sweetly over a graceful rhythm. Interesting harmonies spring up; after an agitato passage, the violin's "lark" theme returns. Speaking of harmonies, Haydn gives us some gorgeous ones in the Adagio cantabile, with Mr. Ching delivering the lyrical melodic line with serene grace. Mr. Gindele's cello sounds abundantly warm here.

The elegant Menuetto features touches of humour, and then we arrive at the Finale: Vivace, a brisk movement in which Mr. Ching dazzled us with his fast and fluent playing. The audience, clearly hanging on every note, burst into lively applause at the finish.

After the interval, Ms. Baikoff returned for Aaron Copland's brief and comical “I Bought Me a Cat” from Old American Songs, dating from 1950. This calls for the singer to make various animal sounds, which Ms. Baikoff did with good-natured enthusiasm. The song is over so soon, though, and surely the soprano merited another number: maybe Schubert's Die Forelle...?

The evening proceeded with a spectacular rendering of Claude Debussy's sensual masterwork, Prelude à l’après-midi d’un faune; the music was composed in 1892–94, with the arrangement given this evening dating from 1920.  What an ensemble the Society put together! It's hard to imagine a more spell-binding performance of this music.

Tara Helen O'Connor's astounding breath control allowed for flowing passages of soul-moving beauty and expressiveness. Her woodwind colleagues, Stephen Taylor (oboe) and Jose Franch-Ballester (clarinet) were equally impressive. Mr. Taylor, who so recently delighted me in a Bach cantata with the Orchestra of Saint Luke's at Carnegie Hall, and Mr. Franch-Ballestar, a handsome fellow indeed, both delivered their phrases tonight with a special glow. Lucille Chung was at the piano, playing rhapsodically, whilst Mr. Brown was seated at a small organ from which he summoned mellow sounds. Scott Pingel's rich-toned bass playing kept hitting my pleasure nerve at all the right moments, while the fellows from the Miró gave Debussy's string writing the lush treatment. Percussionist Ian David Rosenbaum gave the ensemble its final, subtle touch. I have had countless memorable musical experiences over the years, but this Faune is up there in the topmost echelon.

Scott Pingel's double-bass was rightly front-and-center for the concluding work, Camille Saint-Saëns' Le carnaval des animaux. Prevousy I had only heard this famous work at New York City Ballet, where Christopher Wheeldon's 2003 ballet set to this music played for a few seasons, and was taken up by other companies.

As the carnaval's fourteen movements unfolded before us tonight, there was so much to take in, and to savour, from the grand theatricality of the opening Royal March of the Lions, thru the slow and solemn Elephant, and the shimmering piano, strings, and flute of Aquarium, everything was superbly played. Mr. Franch-Ballester suddenly left the stage, only to be heard moments later from the wings, intoning the Cuckoo's two-note call, to the delight of the audience. Tremelo strings and Ms. O'Connor's flute gave us the charming Birds, whilst Pianists became a comedy routine. In the amusing Fossils, bits of "Twinkle, twinkle little star" and "Mon ami Pierrot" spring up, and Ayano Kataoka strikes up the xylophone. The poignant theme of The Swan was handsomely played by Mr. Gindele; people definitely wanted to applaud him when it ended, but they restrained themselves. In the Finale, Ms. OConnor took up the piccolo, to brilliant effect.

Update: some photos from this concert have just come my way; the photographer is Cherylynn Tsushima; click on each image to enlarge:

Above: William Fedkenheuer, Michael Brown, and Joshua Gindele playing Biber

Above, Tara Helen O'Connor, Lucille Chung, Joshua Gindele, and Erika Baikoff: "Sweet Bird"

Above: the Miró Quartet playing Haydn

Above: the players salute Tara Helen O'Connor after the Debussy

Above: "Carnival of the Animals"

Above: final bow, standing ovation

Many thanks to Beverly Greenfield of Kirschbaum Associates for the photos, and for arranging everything for me during the Chamber Music Society's 2021-2022 season.

~ Oberon

WOZZECK ~ Hamburg State Opera 1970

Above: Toni Blankenheim as Wozzeck

~ Author: Oberon

This specially-filmed production of Alban Berg's WOZZECK from the Hamburg Opera is sort of a companion piece to the same Company's MEISTERSINGER, which I raved about not long ago. Both performances seem to have been made expressly for television, and some of the same artists are involved, both in the production aspects and as singers.

While the MEISTERSINGER was ingeniously filmed in a vast studio space, WOZZECK has been filmed on location. The town seems to be an abandoned fortress area, very dreary; all the exterior scenes are heavy with palpable moisture, while the interiors are claustrophobic and sterile. The quality of the film is surprisingly high, as you can perhaps sense from the screen captures I have included here. 

The opera itself sounds simply thrilling; conductor Bruno Maderna (above) gives the score a darkling, lyrical glow whilst managing to honor all the angularity that makes it unique. The orchestra is superb, and the cast is fabulous.

Toni Blankenheim (above), a great Beckmesser in the MEISTERSINGER film, is just as impressive in the title-role of the Berg. His suffering is palpable, as is his inexpressible love for Marie. Harried and ordered about by the Captain and the Doctor, cheated on by Marie, and degraded by the Drum Major, Wozzeck is the epitome of the beaten man right from the start. Mr. Blankenheim makes him achingly real, and sings perfectly into the bargain.

Sena Jurinac (above) is a compellingly human Marie: vain, duplicitous, manipulative, and god-fearing all at once. She looks striking, although perhaps too neatly coiffed. I have never been a fan of Jurinac's singing, usually finding her strayings from pitch quite off-putting. Perhaps I should try listening to her again, because she certainly makes tremendous impression here. 

Above: Jurinac's flirtation - and eventual coupling - with the Drum Major (played by Richard Cassilly, above) sets up the opera's lurid climax.

It's a stellar cast all down the line: Hans Sotin (above), who went on to a long and glorious Wagnerian career, is simply perfect as the Doctor who uses Wozzeck as a guinea pig for his theoretical experiments in the field of nutrition...and urination. Sotin, who was my first full-Cycle Wotan/Wanderer, is chilling to watch and wonderful to hear.

As the Doctor's sidekick, the Captain, tenor Gerhard Unger (above, with Sotin) plays a character vastly different from his excellent David in the MEISTERSINGER film. Unger is a first-class character tenor...one who can really sing.

One of Wozzeck's few friends, the rather bumbling but good-natured Andres, is played by tenor Peter Haage. Blankenheim and Haage, above, in the desolate field of reeds, give a sense of the dreariness of their lives.

Later, at the tavern, Haage sings Andres's ballad in a happy/tipsy frame of mind (above).

At the crowded dance-hall/tavern, Marie's friend Margret (the very pretty Elisabeth Steiner, above) submits to Wozzeck's fondling whilst she sings her Swabia-lied.

In a tour de force performance, the great basso Kurt Moll (above) portrays the First Workman. He sings magnificently, and makes a most believable drunk. His boozing buddy, by the way, is none other than baritone Franz Grundheber.

Tenor Kurt Marschner (above, with Toni Blankenheim as Wozzeck) is a Gollum-like Madman; he gives off a disturbing air of being totally disconnected from reality.

Overall, this WOZZECK is thoroughly absorbing, both musically and dramatically. I've watched it twice already...and will come back to it, for sure.

As I have recently learned, the WOZZECK and MEISTERSINGER are part of a ten-DVD set of operas specially produced in Hamburg around 1970. 

Author: Oberon