Monday, 10 March 2025

Mitchell - The Necklace (Belfast, 2025)


Conor Mitchell - The Necklace

The Belfast Ensemble, 2025

Conor Mitchell, Chanice Alexander-Burnett, Christina Bennington, Mark Dugdale, Darren Franklin, Kara Lane, Charlie McCullagh, Ciara Mackey, Tom O’Kelly, Nigel Richards, Brigid Shine

Lyric Theatre, Belfast - 9th March 2025

You never know quite what to expect next from Conor Mitchell and the Belfast Ensemble. Recent experience would suggest something bold and provocative, something that stretches the boundaries of the lyric stage (at the Lyric Theatre), dealing with topical subjects that we can all recognise as being up-to-date and as pressing and relevant as those on this evening's news. So the proposal to produce a musical based on the Maupassant story, The Necklace (La Parure), and only present it in a one-off concert performance seemed a little lightweight and not at all the kind of cutting edge musical theatre you would expect from this composer. Needless to say we got a lot more than we expected.

But before the musical got underway, the audience was also treated to a short tongue-in-cheek introductory music lesson from Conor Mitchell, who was conducting this premiere performance of the work at the Lyric Theatre in Belfast. Essentially what he wanted us to be aware of was the importance of the cadence in everything from Wagner to Sondheim by way of Beethoven. He also mentioned a forthcoming new opera to be presented at the Dublin Theatre Festival later this year and how he now had come from seeing opera and musicals as not all that different to now consider them as distinct or at least "distant cousins". Personally, largely due to Mitchell's previous works, my journey would have come from the opposite direction, not really having much interest in musicals but coming to the view that it all depends on the musical and the composer. If done right, regardless of the compositional and presentational elements, a piece of good music theatre can be just as effective and just as musically sophisticated as an opera. That at least was brilliantly demonstrated in The Necklace.

The plot itself is indeed not all that complicated and can be summed up fairly easily. Set in Paris in the late 19th century, Camille Loisel is dissatisfied with 'making do' and wishes that her husband, a humble civil servant often looked down on because of his Prussian origins, would work harder at improving their social status. He manages to get them an invitation to an exclusive party with a Countess, and they spend a great deal of money borrowed from a loan shark just to get Camille a suitable dress for the occasion. Camille despairs however when realises that she can't go to such an event without jewellery to show off, and borrows a diamond necklace from an old friend, Madame Forestier. Unfortunately Camille loses the necklace and, in an effort to replace it without Madame Forestier knowing, she and her husband run up a huge debt that destroys their lives trying to pay it off.

As far as cadence goes, Mitchell's recommendation was to just trust your ears in the assurance that the composer has all the musical elements in place that will lead you through the work to its necessary resolution without you having to analyse or think too hard about it. And that was good advice, as far as it goes. It might sound like what happens in between is less important, jokingly glossed over by Mitchell as a lot of filling in and clever showing-off on the part of the composer, but what he rather breezily dismisses is actually how the composer uses other musical techniques to turn what might otherwise be a lightweight story into something of greater gravity and deeper resonance. There are other dramatic cadences in the characters and their stories also, each leading up to and culminating in the work's conclusion. The twist punchline there might now be seen as a little too pat, the familiarity of the convention feeling like it has been employed to give the work a little more dramatic weight and poignancy that hasn't been sufficiently explored in the character development, so it's left to the composer to grace it with musical depth that reveals more about the human side. And Mitchell doesn't rely on just the cadence to do that either.

Each of the characters in this musical version of The Necklace have their own little introductions, wishes and dreams and their lives undergo a journey to different conclusions from the Loisels. The maid Colette dreams of love, in adoration of her Alain, and if it doesn't climb to the heights that she dreams of they nonetheless achieve a satisfaction or a drive in their lives with their children that keeps them going. Madame Forestier - the owner of the necklace - has already been disillusioned with life, which is ultimately proved to be 'fake' and she lives with that reality, seeking to improve the lives of others. Even Vernier, the loan shark, has his own justifications and accommodations that allow him to live his life this way. Mitchell's lightness of touch of the libretto or book is balanced by the sophistication of the musical richness that he composes for these characters and their situations, reaching its height in a piece written for the Countess who provides a wonderful take-down of all the other fake and superficial high society guests at her party.

Why the composer chose this story of superficiality and social climbing for a musical treatment and what he sees in it as having contemporary relevance I wouldn't hazard a guess, but in a lot of ways it embodies Mitchell's own developing sophistication as composer and leader of the Belfast Ensemble. Not that there was anything lacking in the company's basic philosophy and approach in their earlier endeavours but, as Mitchell again observed in his introduction, there are certain restrictions and limitations imposed by the necessity of obtaining arts funding, as well as certain obligations. Without compromising their art or ambition, the Belfast Ensemble have worked within their means, building up character, mission and reputation, proving their value over the last few years. That has been evident right through Abomination, Propaganda, The Headless Soldier and in Mitchell's other larger scale commissions like Riot Symphony. The Belfast Ensemble have proved their worth and the faith and investment put in their growth across these successive works, building an audience along the way.

So there was no compromise involved either in the presentation of a major, musically and dramatically sophisticated a work such as this as a one-off concert performance. The treatment and presentation was not lacking in any way and a great deal of the reason for that was putting the investment where it is most important, in the expanded Ensemble and in the exceptional cast assembled for this performance. The singing was breathtakingly good across the board, each managing to bring personality and character to the roles. Christina Bennington brought real vulnerability to Camille Loisel, helping you to sympathise with her ambitions. Who doesn't want to be well thought of - but at what price? That was for Charlie McCullagh to find out as Gustav, stoically and sympathetically. Brigid Shine brought another dimension to the work as the sparkling Colette. Can you be a down-to-earth dreamer? Colette made you think so.

Although there were superb individual performances from all the cast, the choices made by the composer in how to deliver them proved to be another critical factor in the success of the presentation of the work.  There were notable turns from Chanice Alexander-Burnett as the Countess and Nigel Richards as Vernier that were as much to do with well-written characters and their musical pieces as their performance, but threaded throughout the work was a substantial role from Ciara Mackey as the Narrator, as well as all the singers providing a chorus to underline key aspects of the story. Perhaps most effective of all - since we had all been geared up to expect the final cadence - was the manner in which Mitchell chose to let Kara Lane's Madame Forestier deliver the killing blow of the twist in the most subtle but effective manner. But really, all the hard work had been done beforehand.

It was that kind of sophistication that is what strikes you most about The Necklace. Despite the modesty of the presentation of the premiere, it's clear that there has been a lot of hard work put into making this a musical drama that is on a par with the best musical theatre has to offer. There were no spectacular numbers, nothing that - on a first listen anyway - that stood out as a big showstopper tune, but without wanting to overelaborate the metaphor too much (I'm going to anyway), The Necklace was a more modest piece of jewellery; unostentatiously set with gemstones that were perfectly placed to give colour and compliment the piece with a view to letting it work as a whole. Conor Mitchell is not getting ahead of himself, not dealing in paste jewellery and pawning his principles to get there. The Necklace is another gem in the Belfast Ensemble's collection.


External links: The Belfast Ensemble, 
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Monday, 3 March 2025

Bennett - All Earth Once Drowned (Belfast, 2025)


Ed Bennett - All Earth Once Drowned

Brilliant Corners Festival, Belfast

Ed Bennett, Cherry Smyth, Xenia Pestova Bennett, Kate Ellis, Tom Challenger, Martyn Sanderson, Neil McGovern, Barry O'Halpin, Damien Harron, Steve Davis

The Black Box, Belfast - 2nd March 2025

It's probably a sign of the times, but recently there seems to be an upsurge in contemporary composers taking an interest in and having a greater engagement with pressing matters in the world today. That at least has been my recent experience with Northern Irish composers, looking at the state if the world from a local and universal perspective, whether it be the specifics of the political and social climate of this province (Anselm McDonnell 'Politics of the Imagination' or Conor Mitchell and the Belfast Ensemble) or the environmental issues facing us all. This year's Hard Rain SoloistEnsemble's Ink Still Wet programme saw a whole host of new commissions taking nature as an inspiration, not so much to highlight climate crisis specifically, as much as to remind us of the importance of nature, its structures and how it literally affects everything around us. There can surely be no more pressing issue that needs to be addressed or at the very least highlighted.

Ed Bennett, originally from the seaside town of Bangor in Northern Ireland, has also recently recorded an album with Kate Ellis of the Crash Ensemble, Strange Waves, where he notes how "the sound of waves has been ever present in my life". If you didn't know Ed Bennett, you might think this work with a solo cellist would be a minimal affair, but typically of Bennett, while wanting to retain and highlight the evocative qualities of that instrument, he has Kate Ellis play eight cellos. Not all at once evidently, but using multitrack recording with the composer providing additional field recordings and electronics. A single cello wouldn't be enough to connect with the sheer vastness and incomprehensibility of the sea or characterise his own personal relationship with it. And perhaps eight cellos could only take that so far because the sea has again proved to be the inspiration for Bennett's latest work, All Earth Once Drowned.

And indeed Bennett takes his exploration of the importance of the sea to himself, and to us all, much further in this latest work, commissioned by Moving on Music and the Arts Council NI and presented in the 13th edition of Northern Ireland's Brilliant Corners Jazz Festival. Can you really integrate a new music composition into what is primarily a jazz festival? Well, yes, especially since the festival incorporates boundary stretching avant-garde, experimental and improvised music as part of the programme. Although composed and played from a score, Bennett’s Decibel Ensemble does it all, drawing on musicians from a jazz and improvised music background as well as contemporary classical and experimental musicians. It's a crossover of disciplines and styles that is essential to the purpose of this work and how Bennett wants to treat the subject.

The chief motivation for All Earth Once Drowned lies in texts written by Northern Irish poet Cherry Smyth. She provides a reading of the texts here at the performance of the work at the Black Box in Belfast accompanied by Bennett's score, and with that vocal element to the fore the subject and content of the work is much more upfront. It's about the beauty of the sea, the majesty of the sea, the unknowability of the sea and the destruction of the sea. "The sea is shut?" Cherry calls out in astonishment at one point in the fifth section of the six part 70 minute piece, and then repeats the phrase in increasing indignation and disgust, an expression of sheer disbelief that something as immense and vital and as part of everyone's life as the sea can be, and in some places has been, has been placed off limits due to environmental pollution.

Confronted with the immensity of the subject, not just the mystery of the seas but the potential destruction of the seas, Bennett accordingly upscales the instrumentation and the sound world from already expansive use of eight cellos in Strange Waves, employing his Decibel Ensemble for All Earth Once Drowned. If you've heard his Decibel Ensemble work before, you will know what to expect. If you haven't, the name gives you a clue. It's a ten piece line-up that is required for this work in performance at the Black Box, the stage of the venue unusually extended to accommodate the ensemble - and even then it was a tight fit. The instrumentation includes two saxophone players, trombone, guitar, cello, piano, percussion, drums and vocals, with Bennett himself conducing and managing the electronics. It has a tendency to get very loud but exploits the full dynamic range that the ensemble offers across the whole work.

It needs that kind of instrumentation for the immensity of the subject; the sea, its importance, its mystery and its many moods. Sometimes the brass front line of Tom Challenger, Neil McGovern and Martyn Sanderson sounds like the roar of the sea or the blow of the fetch, sometimes like distant foghorns carrying across the water, Barry O'Halpin's guitar providing textures, Xenia Pestova Bennett's piano sunlight and splashes rippling on the water. Damien Harron on percussion and Steve Davis on drums were capable of whipping up a storm out of nowhere. Davis did much the same with his own Stephen Davis Unit at the Brilliant Corners festival last year with a likewise counterintuitively roaring depiction of nature inspired by the Wicklow mountains in The Gleaming World. Throughout however it's again Kate Ellis’s cello playing that provides the rhythmic force of the tides, the hidden undercurrent, constant and insistent, its sad theme slowing and fading as the sixth part draws to a close.

Although composed there would appear to be a degree of openness and improvisation in the performance, which again is in accordance with the unpredictability of the seas. You would get that anyway with the individual qualities of the performers and the interaction between them, as well as the unpredictability of what happens in a room full of people. There was an energy to the live performance at the Black Box that has to be felt between the performers and the audience. The ensemble could however probably have done without the unexpected intervention of the fire alarm going off at the start of the sixth section, shutting down the lights and the power. It wasn't as if content the piece and its message needed any assistance in raising the alarm bells than the ultimatum already delivered emphatically by Ed Bennett, Cherry Smyth and the Decibel Ensemble.


External links: Brilliant Corners, Ed Bennett

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Thursday, 27 February 2025

OperaJournal 1000

I thought I would use my 1000th post here on OperaJournal to reflect a little on what has been written so far and what might come next, but it's mostly an opportunity to run through the blog's stats. I'm not going to restate any philosophy on why I think opera is important, vital and the most creative of artforms; it's all there in the reviews. I claim no special insight or qualification other than loving opera and having taken the time to watch and write about 999 productions. Everything I feel I want to say about every individual production is in each review. Even the last couple of reviews below should give an indication of what interests me enough to continue to watch, enjoy and write about opera. Mainly, it's the joy of discovering something new, something that has its own unique qualities and history, but which also resonates and has meaning today. Hopefully a little of that comes through in all the reviews.

I might perhaps say more though about my reasons for starting a blog and writing reviews. Clearly - I would hope - it shows enthusiasm for the art form and love for the unique qualities of opera. No other art form touches me as deeply as opera, constantly surprises with its creativity, innovation, progressiveness and no other art form impresses me as much with the talent of its creative artists. Why write about it? Well, it's an opportunity to reflect and think about what you have seen, research it a little, and that all deepens the appreciation. And, if you are going to make those views public, it encourages you to try to be a little more rigorous and accurate about what you are writing. And be honest, but always trying to look for the positive. Also a large part for me personally is to remember and catalogue what I've seen. That gives me a view and understanding of what appeals and is important to me.

OperaJournal Statistics

The stats then only tell you so much, but they are revealing. OperaJournal has had 1.62 million All Time views, there are 999 reviews at the time of writing (only a few not strictly opera) by 234 composers (not all opera composers).

The most reviewed composers on OperaJournal

Unsurprisingly, Verdi and Wagner feature far more prominently than other composers, which since many would say they reached the creative peak of respective Italian and German approaches to opera, is probably how it should be.



Most reviewed operas on OperaJournal

The most reviewed operas (more than 10 reviews) tend to be the ones that are most frequently staged of course, but what I choose to watch and discuss is of course a factor. The list bears out largely what I would consider to be many of my favourite and greatest operas, or since an opera only really exists in the moment it is performed, the works that I find constantly provoke interesting interpretations and responses in every new production.



The most viewed reviews on OperaJournal

I don't know how Blogger calculate views as they don't correspond with the actual number of views showing beside each review and some big hitters are missing from the stats - maybe they count unique hits in one total and overall hits in another (Rameau's Les Indes Galantes for example shows 10426 hits, while the all time stats show 7.71K). It's literally only now that I think I might have worked out why this Bordeaux Les Indes Galantes also seems to consistently receive the most hits every month since 2014, as I've just noticed a common theme in another review that has recently seen a surge in hits - the Helsinki Salome. Both reviews probably - I haven't checked yet - must contain some form of the words 'full frontal nudity', which I suspect might be a popular Google search phrase for some reason. Bloggers - take note of how to improve your hit count! I'm going to edit those reviews to remove any misleading phrases. According to the all time views, the most popular reviews including those that do at the moment and don't mention 'full frontal nudity' (making the most of this while I can) are:

The lists of most reviewed composers and operas reflect my own favourite composers to some extent. As the numbers show, Verdi and Wagner are the greatest masters of opera and can't be ignored, but not included above as they aren't performed as often I also greatly admire and respect the operas and other compositions by Dmitri Shostakovich, Gustav Mahler, Camille Saint-Saëns, Franz Schreker, Eric Wolfgang Korngold and others of that character. I'm most fascinated by all the new music and new ideas floating around at the beginning of the 20th century. If I had to choose one important composer however who needs to be revived more often for new opera productions and forgotten operas, it would be Christoph Willibald Gluck. And I wouldn't say no to more Sergei Prokofiev either.

Favourite works of opera

My personal favourite operas - off the top of my head at the moment - are those that if I see there is a new production available that I can get to or see streamed, I will make every effort to do so. Listed in no particular order.

Strauss - Salome
Gluck - Orpheé et Eurydice
Wagner - Parsifal
Wagner - Tristan und Isolde
Prokofiev - The Fiery Angel
Mussorgsky - Boris Godunov
Verdi - Don Carlos
Massenet - Werther
Debussy - Pelléas et Mélisande
Tchaikovsky - Eugene Onegin
Janáček - Jenůfa


Favourite opera directors

I think it is also clear from my reviews of opera productions that aside from the importance of the composers - who I give sole prominence to in the right-hand side panel - I personally place greater value on directors more than conductors or singers as the most essential element in bringing any given opera production to life. This is just a personal preference - other views are equally valid - towards the belief that the music and singing are nothing in opera without dramatic playing and conviction. I don't go to opera for a conductor or to see a singer - although there are some I greatly admire and hopefully I express that in individual reviews - but I would make every effort to see productions directed by the following:

I also look forward to seeing more from Simon Stone and Kirill Serebrennikov.

If I have one favourite director, it has to be Christof Loy. His choice of productions often seems to coincide with operas that I love and I find his stripped back simplicity and lack of over-imposition of personal style or ideology onto works most appealing - although I do find other avant-garde and experimental directors who have their own voice interesting and often essential. For me Loy's greatest quality is his ability to direct acting and drama and touch deeply on the humanity expressed by the composers in operas that are really deserving of a full, considered and respectful treatment, approached with utmost conviction and belief in the inherent beauty and quality of the works.

The last thing I will say before I disappear again and start writing more about opera is that I believe it is a progressive art and as such I'm all in favour of new music and new opera. Having explored all eras in the history of opera, covering every period and finding much to admire in works from all those periods and styles, I have more recently tried to focus on rare older works I haven't heard or seen before and new opera by contemporary composers. That's what will hopefully inspire me to keep this OperaJournal blog going. If you are going to explore new forms of opera and musical expression, there is no point in being proscriptive about it either, so I may branch out occasionally into more contemporary music reviews and CDs. (I'm also minded to consider starting a separate Jazz blog as well).

It would feel strange to say thank you for reading, because I've always genuinely felt that I am just writing for myself, and that's why I don't invite comments or discussion (aside from not wanting to get into moderation), so it surprises me that the blog continues to receive so many hits and views. To everyone who has read the reviews, contacted me via email and shared my blog on their own, thank you. It's wonderful to be able to celebrate all that I find so inspiring about opera, to see so much talent and creativity, and that it continues to remain relevant to so many people.


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Tuesday, 18 February 2025

Magnard - Guercœur (Strasbourg, 2024)

Albéric Magnard - Guercœur

L'Opéra national du Rhin, 2024

Ingo Metzmacher, Christof Loy, Stéphane Degout, Catherine Hunold, Antoinette Dennefeld, Julien Henric, Eugénie Joneau, Gabrielle Philiponet, Adriana Bignagni Lesca, Marie Lenormand, Alysia Hanshaw, Glen Cunningham, Natalia Bohn, Yannick Bosc, Lucas Bléger, Laurence De Cet, Éric Kaija Guerrier, Dominique Kling, Aleksandra Kubuschok, Caroline Roques, Nicolas Umbdenstock

ARTE Concert - 2, 4 May 2024

For my 999th post on OperaJournal, Albéric Magnard's Guercœur presents a fine opportunity to reflect on the nature of opera and its ability to convey the experience of life and death in a way no other artform can match. The existence of Guercœur itself is almost miraculous, the opera a forgotten and almost lost doorway into the past, one that when revived and staged for the first time since its posthumous premiere in 1931 has been allowed to breathe again. Many such works are forgotten and lost, but the fact that some works survive to make this journey across centuries and speak to us from the past never ceases to be a magical and irresistible experience for me. What is special about Guercœur is that its story and indeed the story of its own existence all combine to illustrate and emphasise that it has something important to tell us that needs to be heard in the present day.

The fact that Guercœur exists at all is, if not miraculous, fortunate to say the least. Composed between 1897 and 1901, the story of a knight who has died and gone to paradise but begs to be allowed to return to the world only to be disappointed by what he finds there, the opera was never fully performed in the composer's lifetime. Magnard was killed in 1914, attempting to protect his home from German soldiers, his property destroyed along with most of his manuscripts, including the opera Guercœur. It was reconstructed from memory and a piano reduction by the composer's friend Joseph Guy Ropartz and presented for the first time in 1931. There are many such stories of composers lives and careers ruined destroyed by war and untimely deaths, but it is the fact that Guercoeur actually concerns itself with similar sentiments, about a warrior who has been ripped away from the world too soon and wants to return there to complete his life's work, that makes this even more fascinating.

It's down to the Opéra national du Rhin in Strasbourg now to revive this work from the dead, putting real flesh and bones, real human sentiments, feelings and expression into something that otherwise exists as nothing more than markings on paper. There is even a sense of that longing to be brought back to life in the opening scene of the opera where, in a place beyond time and space, souls live in ideal blissful contentment, no wants, no desires. Except for one spirit, Guercœur who begs to be given the chance to live again. The Shades of a Virgin, a Woman and a Poet are unable to persuade him otherwise, nor Souffrance (Suffering), so Vérité (Truth) accedes to his request  allowing him to "become again the plaything of human weaknesses, of desire, hatred, shame, doubt and fear".

And those human qualities are what the idealistic Guercœur goes back to face. In the two hours since he has died and been in a place beyond space and time however, two years have passed on Earth and the world is already a very changed place from the one he left. Guercœur's love Giselle is now engaged to his faithful disciple Heurtal and the people that the knight freed from tyranny are already calling for an authoritarian dictator to restore order and make their country great again. Hard to imagine something like that happening today, I know. To Guercœur's horror, his friend and disciple. Heurtal is ready to assume that role of dictator, just as he has assumed Guercoeur’s place as the beloved of Giselle.

On the surface, Guercœur is not the most complex of this kind of Orphic myth or morality tale where someone is given a chance to see life and death from both sides. It's a Wonderful Life and A Christmas Carol reveal otherwise unrealisable truths just as effectively as the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, a story that has been a cornerstone of the opera world in many forms and varieties over the centuries. The moral can be seen as a simple warning about life being for the living and leaving the dead to their place, but it's the emotional beauty and the human tragedy of the story that is attractive and superbly related in Magnard's opera and self-written libretto. It covers the idealism of the spiritual nature of man and questions of our legacy after death, but it also considers the other side of the equation, the day-to-day reality for most people, how they cope on an individual level as well as part of a society in response to the death of an important and influential figure or in the aftermath of a war where death takes an even greater toll. There is the fear that true peace can only be found in oblivion.

In the way that it contrasts our expressed desire for beauty, freedom, peace and a utopian society with the reality of human weakness for earthly material needs, greed, pride, power and ambition, it could easily be an opera written for today. What is fascinating and makes this even more strangely compelling, is the history of the work and the composer itself, its brush with the finality of death and destruction, its 'calling' to be brought back to life. As mentioned earlier, what is special about opera is that this 'dead' work of notes on a page has been reincarnated here, in an expressive manner that can only be achieved through opera performance when it is produced for the stage. Real people pour their heart and soul into these recreated figures and its the efforts of Ingo Metzmacher, Christof Loy and Stéphane Degout here who raise this work from the dead to bring an important message to the world today.

Conducted by Ingo Metzmacher, the music is drenched in turn of the century post-Wagnerian Late Romanticism, but Magnard's fantastical view of a lost paradise is more than just the extravagant fin de siècle fantasies of Korngold and Schreker (although arguably they also in their own way reflect and confront the reality of the world around them and the philosophical ideas of their time). Guercœur has the same quest for answers to questions on Love and Death and the role of the Artist as some of Wagner’s late works, but it doesn't have the same sense of mythological self-aggrandisement (if I may somewhat unfairly and not entirely accurately characterise Wagner's more nuanced and ambiguous position for the sake of comparison). Although there are recognisable elements and references there, Guercœur belongs more to the French Romanticism of César Franck, but like many composers that followed him in this period, the shadow of Wagner is inescapable. 

Magnard’s own voice however can be heard in this and its primarily in the human rather than the mythological element of the story, the willingness to confront his idealism and humanitarian viewpoint with the truthful reality of the nature of people and society. The opera draws resonance and complexity from how it recognises these issues, and like the period of time that has elapsed in the real world since Guercœur died, the work too has been in a state of suspended animation and needs some form of adjustment, translation or interpretation to reconnect with the new world it finds itself in. In essence, more than a faithful musical or singing performance, that is the principal element that needs to be brought forward into our modern world, and it is the task of the director to 'translate' that into action on the stage for a contemporary audience.

Christof Loy approaches the work with his characteristic attention to detail. Detail in regards to the human experience, that is, reducing the sets and other potential distractions to the bare minimum, never letting the focus drift away from what is essential to make the work feel alive, vital and meaningful. It's not a spectacle, despite the nature of this work seeming to call out for bold contrasts between the otherworldly allegorical and the human reality. Loy treats them equally, a simple plain background - one dark, one light, but seeming to overlap as the set containing really only chairs revolves to slip between one reality and the other. It looks like there has been very little hands-on input, but in truth the power of the work is better expressed by human figures than stage props and Loy is I believe one of the best directors of actors. There are no operatic mannerisms here, you believe in the characters and feel the weight of their predicament.

That goes not just for the extraordinary experience and conflict within Guercœur, a role that is taken with pure heartfelt expression and sincerity by Stéphane Degout, a singer I have admired and rated very highly for a long time, in a perfectly judged performance, but all the roles are perfectly weighted, balanced and aligned with the content, tone and intent of the opera; the 'human' characters as well as the allegorical ones. The conflict of love for one lost and the need to find a reason to live is no less great a dilemma for Giselle, sung with sensitivity and clarity of purpose by Antoinette Dennefeld, and there is even sympathy for Julien Henric's Heurtal, who struggles with the demands placed on him in the role he has inherited. There are choice roles for Catherine Hunold (Vérité), Eugénie Joneau (Bonté), Gabrielle Philiponet (Beauté) and Adriana Bignagni Lesca (Souffrance), all of them with key roles to play in Guercœur coming to an acceptance of his fate.

The opera is also gifted with heavenly choruses that are not only ravishing but necessary to contribute to and support the underlying sentiments and transformation that Guercœur has to undergo, contrasted with the earthly uproar, conflict and violence that he is forced to endure on his return. Loy recognises that the power and true meaning of the work is in its third act credo of Hope for a better future and that it is here that Truth, Beauty and Goodness, with some necessary 'Souffrance', are most needed. There is also an acknowledgement that this is no magical fantasy, that this message needs to go out to all those in witnessing the performance at l'Opéra national du Rhin, and as the cast approach the front of the stage in the lead up to the beautiful conclusion, the camera filming the event takes in that other crucial element for any opera to continue to live and breathe; its audience.


External links: L'Opéra national du Rhin, ARTE Concert

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Sunday, 16 February 2025

Wagner - Siegfried (Brussels, 2024)

Richard Wagner - Siegfried (Brussels, 2024)

La Monnaie-De Munt, 2024

Alain Altinoglu, Pierre Audi, Magnus Vigilius, Peter Hoare, Gábor Bretz, Scott Hendricks, Wilhelm Schwinghammer, Ingela Brimberg, Nora Gubisch, Liv Redpath

RTBF Auvio streaming - 25th September 2024

Well this was unexpected, but in the end perhaps not totally surprising. Ring Cycles are notoriously complicated to stage and require enormous planning and resources. Sometimes they fail, sometimes they are abandoned before they start, sometimes mid-stream (as appears to be the case with the English National Opera production), but this the ambitious new production at La Monnaie in Brussels, the first two parts of which took place in the 2023/24 season with the remaining parts to be fulfilled in 2024/25, is the first I've seen where the director has jumped ship half-way through. La Monnaie issued a press statement advising that the remaining two parts would no longer be directed by Romeo Castellucci and that they had parted ways on this Ring Cycle by mutual agreement, unable to achieve what was planned within the planned timescale and budget.

The reason is probably more complicated than simply creative differences or even just budgetary concerns. It's not as if La Monnaie lack resources or ambition and have staged many extravagant Castellucci productions over the years, so his plans for the remainder of the cycle must have really been really out there. Considering the extraordinary visuals of what was staged the previous season in Das Rheingold and Die Walküre and that there was a proposal for a full length feature film using new untested technology to accompany Siegfried and a "double project" mixing theatre and opera for Götterdämmerung, it is genuinely feasible that the production team were indeed incapable of meeting the technological demands of Castellucci's vision for the remainder of the tetralogy.

The unenviable task of taking over the reins on a Ring Cycle in the middle of the race is handed to Pierre Audi, and it's not as if he even has any clear direction to follow. The horses of the Valkyrie have already bolted from this Ring stable, the previous two parts looking spectacular but having very little in the way of any coherent or even comprehensible intent to latch onto. There may have been ambitions (probably not) for the complete cycle to come together into something more thought-provoking rather than just appear as a series of bizarre visual ideas thrown out for each part by Castellucci, but either way I for one was looking forward to seeing where the director would take it next. It seems however that the next level was just simply unachievable, the artist's ambition greater than anyone's ability to realise its potential. Can Pierre Audi attempt to pull this together what has come before into something just as interesting, while at least remaining achievable?

There are maybe a few minor references to what has come before in the opening filmed footage that plays out before the opera, a group of schoolchildren putting on cardboard masks and wooden swords - a reminder at the surprising use of children to play the gods in one scene of Castellucci's Das Rheingold - and in one of children drawing a large circle - a reference found at the beginning and end of both parts directed by Castellucci. Or perhaps, like the childish drawing of a man with a sword that leads into the overture, it's more a sign that this is a return back to basics which, since that characterises Siegfried in Siegfried to some extent, is a reasonable way to approach it. The children's drawings however only make a reappearance as overlaid projections in the closing moments of the opera, so their inclusion - at this stage anyway - is a mystery.

But it's hard to find anything at all meaningful in Pierre Audi's Siegfried. It's true that he hasn't been given much to work with (apart from Wagner's account of the myth obviously) and it must be difficult to take over any project half-way through, but his style has always been for abstraction and bold grand symbolism. Not the obvious kind though. Here in Act I the scene consists of a wall of tarnished gold blocks (a familiar Audi image) with a huge jagged black ball hovering above it. You could potentially see this as representative of the two figures, one corrupted by desire for gold, the other an unformed ball of potential. You could however find a reason for reading this the other way around, so I may be giving the abstract design more credit for symbolism than it's worth, but it seems to be borne out when a long glowing spear descends and bisects the stage at the arrival of the Wanderer. On its own terms the staging is fine, the effective lighting capturing tone and mood, but it's not really enough to make the playing out of backstory between Mime and Siegfried and Mime and Wanderer any more interesting.

The credibility of Act II unfortunately suffers from poor choices in the combination of costume design and lighting. Alberich and the Wanderer skulk about the darkened stage wearing Judex capes and wide-brim homburg hats, their faces bathed in green light, making it looks like a casting session for Wicked. Perhaps that's not the worst image to hang on Alberich and Wanderer, but it looks silly and rather ruins the tone as they gather outside the formidable grotto of the dragon Fafner. The huge inflatable crumpled ball covered in heavy-duty black plastic sheeting sprouts lights for eyes as the dragon, but the spectacle is brief and the impact of Siegfried slaying the dragon is rather ineffective. There is added gravitas however when Fafner appears carrying the desiccated blackened and rotted remains of Fasolt, underlining the tragic end of the race of giants. That gravity is carried over into the scene between Erda and Wanderer but it has little else to offer, the confrontation and destruction of Wotan’s spear feeling somewhat routine.

It does however lead into a dramatic science-fiction-like Act III, the huge ball splintering or rather replaced with floating shards in a blazing red sky, before giving way to the coolness of the discovery of Brünnhilde in a frozen state in an abstract landscape of a blazing white dawn. That at least gives this scene its own distinct character and tone, although in its abstraction it could equally pass for a scene from Act II or Act III of Tristan und Isolde. It's an effective scene nonetheless on its own terms, held together by the sense of epic revelation and resolution to the tragic consequences of Die Walküre, the performance of the score and the singing all coming together to reveal the full majesty of the moment, which of course is built upon everything that has come before. It's a bit of a chore getting there, but almost worth it in the end.

Audi's taking over of Siegfried was undoubtedly a challenge and it at least looks the part, breaking away from the direction Castellucci was taking the cycle and focussing on just delivering a suitably bold spectacle with good singing. Personally I find that Siegfried needs a little more than that. Although you would be hard pressed to understand the direction Castellucci was taking this Ring des Nibelungen in, Audi's vision has no psychological or philosophical underpinning and doesn't invite one or even have any distinctive directorial stamp. It's just a routine performance, in as much as a challenging work like Siegfried can ever be 'routine'. Peter De Caluwe, the general director of La Monnaie prefers to rebrand this cycle now as two diptychs, the first two "allegorical" about the gods, the second two a "human" story about the love between Siegfried and Brünnhilde. It's a big disappointment however when you think that, however extreme and absurd his ambitions might have been, the reasons given for Castellucci's departure is an acknowledgement that his Siegfried would at least never have been dull.

There are no big gestures in the score, which is given a softer reading from Alain Altinoglu than I expected, making me think that La Monnaie were perhaps not using full scale orchestration. It's more likely however that the choices were made for the sake of dynamism, saving the impact for where it is needed and it fairly scaled up for the final scene. Another reason might be to give the singers room to be heard, but there were few problems on that front, although they were left with fairly standard characterisation with no obvious direction. Peter Hoare's Mime is excellent, but it was a familiar weasely and slimy semi-comic routine. Gabor Breitz is a solid menacing presence but brought little that was distinctive to his continuation of the role of Wotan/Wanderer. Scott Hendricks makes great efforts as Alberich but struggles a little. The Wicked outfits perhaps didn't help either of them. The best performance here comes from Magnus Vigilius as Siegfried, totally in command of the role, his voice approaching Klaus Florian Vogt lightness but with a little more steel and not so much softness, which seems ideal. Ingela Brimberg reprises her Brünnhilde from Die Walküre and sings it well, but just as importantly, captures the complexity of her condition as a formidable but now fearful Valkyrie.


External links: La Monnaie-De Munt, RTBF Auvio

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Monday, 10 February 2025

Karlsson - Fanny and Alexander (Brussels, 2024)

Mikael Karlsson - Fanny and Alexander

La Monnaie-De Munt, Brussels, 2024

Ariane Matiakh, Ivo Van Hove, Susan Bullock, Peter Tantsits, Sasha Cooke, Jay Weiner, Sarah Dewez, Thomas Hampson, Anne Sofie Von Otter, Jacobi Loa Falkman, Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen, Alexander Sprague, Justin Hopkins, Polly Leech, Gavan Ring, Margaux de Valensart, Marion Bauwens, Blandine Coulon

La Monnaie Streaming - December 2024

There is an element of semi-autobiography in nearly all of Ingmar Bergman's films, or perhaps it could be described as an element of exorcism in confronting the fears, concerns and formative experiences that determined his outlook on life. Whether it's the terror of death in The Seventh Seal or the silence of God in ...well, most of his work, that outlook is not a particularly optimistic one. Perhaps the most important formative experience for Bergman and for most people is family and particularly one's childhood experiences. It was only much later in his life, in preparation for what he believed would stand as his final film and testament as a career as a writer, director and filmmaker that Bergman was able to approach those youthful moments of joy as well as the more familiar explorations of pain and fear in a masterful and probing manner through Fanny and Alexander.

As much as they draw upon personal experiences, incorporating the root causes of many of his personal fears as well as his influences that he would unflinchingly bring to the screen as one of the world's greatest film directors, Fanny and Alexander of course has a much broader outlook on life. Which it would need to, since Bergman's experience of childhood in Fanny and Alexander, fictionalised as the well-to-do Ekdahl family in provincial Sweden in Uppsala, doesn't appear to have much in common with most people's lived experience. The challenge of adapting this to opera then would be to focus on and draw out the more universal qualities and experiences from the sprawling richness of the original filmed work, as well as retaining the sense of coming-of-age drama of a turbulent family experience that is to have a profound impact on how one child relates to the wider world as an adult.

With his sister Fanny, Alexander grows up in a wealthy family of businessmen and artists, all of whom gather at the start of Mikael Karlsson's opera version of Fanny and Alexander, composed for La Monnaie in Brussels from a libretto by Royce Vavrek. The family own and run their own theatre, managed by Fanny and Alexander's father Oscar. As the extended family in formal dress gather around the lavish Christmas dinner table prepared by a host of servants after a performance of a nativity play at the theatre, Oscar tells the children that "Outside is a big world and the little world in which we were born succeeds in reflecting the big one" while Alexander and Fanny sit at the foot of the table creating their own personal little drama with a miniature toy theatre. It's a little heavy-handed maybe, but it succeeds in establishing how the opera develops the theme that art doesn't just imitate life but seeks transform those human experiences. 

What this scene also establishes is the gulf between childlike innocence and imagination and the danger of its corruption when it comes into contact with the harsh realities of the world. Certainly there is a lifetime of troubling experiences to be processed as the children unwittingly eavesdrop on the private lives of their relatives, lascivious uncles philandering with maids, their grandmother reminiscing with an old love, one uncle facing ruin from failed business interests, another depressed at aging and the declining state of the world. It would take Bergman a whole career to process these issues - some his own experiences as an adult reflected here as much as fictionalised ones for other people - and confront their roots in this ambitious project.

The most harrowing experience for the young Alexander, as it would be for many children, is their first encounter with the death of a close family member. His father Oscar is rehearsing a scene from Hamlet when he has a heart attack and dies. For the young Alexander, seeped in the family's theatrical tradition, it's as profound an experience as Hamlet’s own horror of meeting his father's ghost, and indeed his own father will later make a similar ghostly appearance in the story. It's a moment wrapped in theatrical and philosophical meaning and suitably presented as such in the staging of this premiere opera production by Ivo van Hove. The Shakespearean allusions continue as Alexander's hatred grows for his step-father, their mother Emilie remarrying to an austere authoritarian and cruel man of the cloth, a bishop who demands they abandon their former life of privilege.

All this will be familiar to anyone who has seen Bergman's film or extended TV mini-series, which is a sign that the creators of the opera have succeeded at least in retaining the essence of the work. Both composer Mikael Karlsson and librettist Royce Vavrek have a good track record in adaptations of movie-sourced material, the two having previously worked together on Lars von Trier’s Melancholia for the Royal Swedish Opera last year. Musically Fanny and Alexander is recognisably in the same style evidenced in that opera, rhythmically and melodically propulsive in the idiom of John Adams, with electronic effects used for dramatic underscoring. It's less 'science-fiction' sounding electronics this time, providing rather an undercurrent that underlines moments of intense emotional stress as well as the ghost appearances, which are also heralded by shimmering bells.

What doesn't come across in the recorded and broadcast version of the production is the effort of the composer to make the opera a visceral theatrical experience. Modern technologies don't have to be restricted to theatrical techniques - and Ivo van Hove knows all about those - but can surely also be employed for musical effect in modern opera. That however is not something that most opera houses are equipped for and it does involve a considerable amount of effort and complexity to install surround speakers and deep subwoofer technology to make the audience actually feel the musical reverberations. There is also the challenge of synchronising the electronic elements of the score with the acoustic orchestra (the performers also wear microphones so that they can be mixed into the live sound design), but the impact of all that is lost in a streamed broadcast.

As well as employing cinematic techniques in his theatre and opera productions, Ivo van Hove is a director who is also very familiar with adapting Bergman and other filmmakers for theatre and often uses extended theatrical techniques like live cameras and projections. By comparison his direction of Fanny and Alexander for the most part feels rather restrained and almost traditional. I have to say I prefer when he is a little more adventurous and avant-garde. The fact however that the scenes have the necessary impact - minimalist but for a number of key scenes like the death of Oscar, the ghost story of the two drowned children and the remarkable effects used for the Isak and Ismaël scenes - suggests that he knows when to hold back in order to give those key moments prominence (underlined by the reverberating score) and does succeed in finding the best way of presenting the material.

That's surely the essential thing, but aside from the scenes mentioned above that are creatively handled, and despite what sounds like a wonderful musical interpretation, personally I didn't find either enough to hold attention as the opera moved into the second half. It was perfectly good, but I was perhaps too familiar with the movie version, so the adherence to the original felt predictable and something of a pale copy of Bergman's film, an unnecessary reworking that didn't really add anything as an opera. I felt like that at least until the stunning and remarkably effective choices for the setting of the avant-conclusion in the puppet theatre shop of Isak and Ismaël. Here Karlsson and van Hove succeeded in establishing the value of the opera on its own terms, which, as it should be, was in the realm of bringing music, drama and singing together to lift the source material to new heights.

That is no small part was due to a stunning performance from countertenor Aryeh Nussbaum Cohen as Ismaël. His extraordinary voice and presence brings that necessary enigmatic quality to the key moment when Alexander's eyes are open to how an artist can take those mysteries and unknowns, the personal traumas and experiences and use them to not only create art, but also how they can be a vital tool for survival. That is supported, as I have said, in the music score and in the stage direction with conductor Ariane Matiakh harnessing all those varied forces of the complex musical arrangements together.

The singing and performances are excellent elsewhere, relying on some veteran performers like Susan Bullock, Thomas Hampson (first time at La Monnaie) and Anne Sofie Von Otter for smaller roles in order to bring extra significance to their roles in the drama. The principal role in the opera however is that of Emilie, the children's mother, sung impressively by Sasha Cooke. Boy soprano Jay Weiner played Alexander exceptionally well with no stage-school mannerisms or over-acting. Although Fanny is not a large role, it was equally well performed by Sarah Dewez.


External links: La Monnaie-De Munt, Fanny and Alexander streaming

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Wednesday, 5 February 2025

Hard Rain SoloistEnsemble - Ink Still Wet VIII (Belfast, 2024)

Hard Rain SoloistEnsemble - Ink Still Wet VIII

Composers: Anselm McDonnell, Fionnuala Fagan-Thiébot, Simon Mawhinney, Omar Zatriqi, Peter O'Doherty, Sam Chambers, Ian Wilson

Conductor: Benjamin Haemhouts

Hard Rain SoloistEnsemble: Aisling Agnew (flute), Sarah Watts (clarinet), David McCann (cello), Daniel Browell (piano) with guests Alex Petcu (percussion), Ciaran McCabe (violin), Ben Gannon (oboe), Lina Andonovska (flute)

Harty Room, Queen's University, Belfast - 1st February 2025

There may be some commonality in the musical backgrounds of the composers, many of them having studied at Queens University in Belfast or lectured there, but that's to be expected considering that the pieces in this programme of contemporary music are being presented - and in the case of four of the seven pieces actually commissioned - to form part of the eighth annual concert of new music performed by Northern Ireland's principal contemporary music ensemble, the Hard Rain SoloistEnsemble. New music so fresh in fact that this particular annual programme goes under the title of Ink Still Wet. The backgrounds of the composers however are rather more varied than that suggests and that is reflected in the surprisingly wide variety of compositions presented in Ink Still Wet VIII.

Or perhaps not so surprising really. Aside from the permutations that you can make use of in a core ensemble of five or six musicians and a few additional guests, there are various creative and modern technologies that can be employed where appropriate in service of the demands of any given piece, and some unexpected ones too. As such, none of the pieces in the programme were remotely alike, which is a testament to the individuality and creativity of the composers and to the performers of the HRSE in adapting to those styles, but it's also a sign that new contemporary music is in a very good place at the moment - both locally and internationally - not relying on the style or technique of some of the modern titans of new music past, but seeking to find new and creative means of personal expression that speaks of the world today.

What impressed me most about all the selections is that none of the compositions presented here - well, maybe one or two of them a little - were purely 'conceptual' or technical exercises in virtuosity, but indeed many of them reflected in one form or another consideration of an newfound or revitalised appreciation for nature. The programme notes for Ink Still Wet VIII reveal that many of the pieces here found inspiration from sources in nature, and embraced the challenge of finding an artistic and creative way to express and share those impressions with an audience through music.

The first two pieces in the programme strove to do this by extending the range of traditional musical instruments by including electronic and sound effects from nature. A play on the word Ectosymbiont, that refers to a parasitic organism that attaches itself to another to form a symbiotic relationship Anselm McDonnell's 'Echosymbiont' saw the composer acting as the 'outside' force, processing some of the sounds of the live performance on computer and playing it back through an on-stage speaker as an echoing response. It was a little unsettling initially to hear pauses where Alex Petcu's percussion continued in soft fading delays of electronic reverberations, but aside from perhaps recognising that there is a symbiotic (but hopefully not parasitic) relationship between composer and performers, it also reminded me that music doesn't stop when the playing finishes. It resonates in the room and - hopefully - has made a deeper connection with the listener and perhaps stays with them even longer than that. This one certainly did. 

Fionnuala Fagan-Thiébot's 'Lisnabreeny Townland' was perhaps the piece where the connection with nature was most open and obvious without the aid of programme notes, the composer choosing to find her own form of symbiotic relationship in a solo flute composition by introducing field recordings alongside the playing of the flute. In four parts, inspired by walks to the ancient Lisnabreeny Rath in the Castlereagh Hills, the flute blended with and interacted with the sounds of birds, wind, water and leaves, even background sounds of traffic recorded on location. This was not just a pastoral piece however, but touched on mythology and fairy lore and our connection with an ancient world through nature. You could almost imagine this piece working in an outdoor setting, since it certainly achieved a sense of that even within the acoustics of the Harty Room at Queen's University. The piece resonated wonderfully with some deeply felt and sympathetic playing from Aisling Agnew. Again it emphasised how music is all around, how sounds inspire music and how music can strive not just imitate natural sounds but seek to embrace them and invite the listener to hear them in a fresh context while making something entirely new.

Simon Mawhinney perhaps stretched the definition of 'ink still wet' with his piece 'In Blue and Gold', taking a youthful student composition from 1998 and developing it into something new in 2024. If there is a connection to nature here it is at a remove, taking initial inspiration from another artistic work itself based on nature - a Middle Eastern painting 'Nocturne in Blue and Gold' by Walter Greaves, (which in itself were inspired by Whistler's paintings of the Thames in the same style) - which makes it an intriguing proposition when the composer is himself working at a remove and with maturity and experience in response to his younger nature and ideas. And it very much proves to be, the expansion of the instrumentation for a seven piece ensemble requiring the addition of guest oboist Ben Gannon with the HRSE delivering the wonderful richness and fullness of sound of the newly developed piece.

Belfast-born Omar Zatriqi's 'Diatribe' also proved to have a deep connection to exploring personal roots and influences, drawing from the composer's Albanian, Scottish and Croatian heritage. Although it incorporated folk influences from each of these worlds across each of its three sections and coda, there was no evident referencing of old style music in this thoroughly modern and contemporary piece composed for six piece ensemble. That in itself is a testament to acceptance of the gift of diversity and musically processing that mixed heritage into something new. If anything there was an sense of jazz fusion as much as folk in the bringing together of those influences to derive something of a distinct contemporary and personal voice. Different instruments would come into focus in each section, taking a lead and responding to each other, with the piano and marimba acting as a kind of connecting tissue. Each section seemed to build to a head only to be punctuated by crashes to release the build up of tension created by the overwhelming weight of bearing such rich and diverse ideas.

Perhaps it was just a lack of focus on my part after the interval, but Peter O'Doherty's 'Inflorescence' flew over my head and I was unable to find a way into it on a single hearing. It seeks to replicate in its structure the cluster patterns of flowers on a plant, the whole ecosystem of growth, flowering, decay and renewal. I love the idea of taking inspiration from structures in nature but it inevitably makes it a very complex piece with interweaving clusters, creating textures and resonances on adjoining sections and instrumentation. I would like to hear this again to see if I could get my head around it.

While understandably some of the commissioned works take advantage of the full resources of the musicians of the HRSE, there is also the freedom to choose to avail of just one of its soloists. Sam Chambers' 'His Feet are Light and Nimble' for solo violin certainly put guest violinist Ciaran McCabe through his paces, the piece feeling like it lay somewhere between a jig and demonic possession. It's not a long piece but such was the drive and delivery that you almost feared that McCabe was operating under a spell or a curse, and that if he stopped he would drop down dead in the spot. Fortunately that did not happen, but such are the fanciful ideas that come to mind while listening to the thrilling performance of this piece. Perhaps not so fanciful really since the piece is indeed inspired by just such a satanically possessed performance by a character in Cormac McCarthy's novel Blood Meridian.

While trying to navigate my way through a new piece of music heard for the first time, I often look for focus on an instrument that leads the way through it. There was no such difficulty with Sam Chambers' piece and definitely no mistaking that the focus of attention in Ian Wilson's 'When I Became the Sun' was on the rivetting performance of guest flautist Lina Andonovska, for whom the piece was written. Again the concept determined to a certain degree the choice of instrument - another ambitious engagement with nature on a grand scale, perhaps the most important one of all - but there was no failing to recognise the dominance of the role of the flute in the piece or the virtuosity of the performance. Becoming the sun, Andonovska's playing was a stellar force of nature, and if the rest of the ensemble at times felt like they were merely responsive to its force and whims, they were nonetheless vital components in the piece and in the overall fabric of the concept.

Suitably rich in its instrumentation, the piece therefore had a coherence but also an unpredictability in how a response to those emanations could take many forms. Sometimes it manifested as playful ripples of percussion and piano keys, sometimes inviting a concerted rhythmic pulsation from the ensemble, slipping into a melodic bliss or a chaotic breakdown, in the process of course inviting an individual response within the listener. One other quite original element that introduced a hard to define character to the composition was the threading of motifs and indeed riffs, from heavy rock band System of a Down's 'Toxicity' throughout the composition. The title of the composition indeed comes from the last line of the song 'When I became the sun I shone life into the man's hearts'. It served perhaps as the human counterpart to the flute's sun and the ensemble's Earth responsiveness, but certainly brought additional dynamism to the conceptual and musical flavour of the piece.


External links: Hard Rain SoloistEnsemble

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