Karlsson - Melancholia (Stockholm, 2023)

Mikael Karlsson - Melancholia

Royal Swedish Opera, 2023

Andrea Molino, Sláva Daubnerová, Lauren Snouffer, Anne Sofie von Otter, Rihab Chaieb, Ola Eliasson, Jens Persson Hertzman, Johan Edholm, Mikael Stenbaek, Anton Textorius, Klas Hedlund

ARTE Concert - 2nd November 2023 

I don't envy any composer - and to be honest can't even understand their motivation - for choosing to make an opera based on a fairly recent film. It's not that it's necessarily a bad idea in itself; cinema is a valid source of inspiration to opera and theatre directors and Kryzsztof Warlikowski and Ivo Van Hove in particular have drawn on movie and film techniques for some excellent productions. The challenge of making an opera based on Lars von Trier's Melancholia however is considerable. Since the original soundtrack of the film heavily featured Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, how would a composer put that out of his head while approaching a new musical version? But more to the point, does it even need to be made into an opera when the successful film is readily accessible?

Well the truth is that you could pose the same question to Lars Von Trier, since as a filmmaker he has followed - like many - in the footsteps of Andrei Tarkovsky. That influence has been obvious throughout his career, in the visual style of his earlier films, and Melancholia bears more than a passing resemblance in tone with Nostalghia and the apocalyptic subject matter of The Sacrifice. Von Trier nonetheless has managed to establish his own vision, and Melancholia proved to be one of the director's best films up to that point, one where he didn't need to court controversy for attention. The discovery of a hitherto unknown planet on a crash course for Earth as a metaphor for a young woman with mental health problems facing a devastating breakdown on the day of her wedding was a powerful one, related one supposes to the director's own mental health issues. "Melancholia is on her warpath".

It's a powerful subject, but there is no reason a composer couldn't bring out another dimension to the subject, particularly when it doesn't have to rely on Wagner as a generic musical accompaniment, no matter how well that works as a soundtrack for the film. An interview with the composer Mikael Karlsson on bringing the premiere of this opera to the Royal Swedish Opera, shows he was familiar with the film but clearly able to put the presence of Wagner aside and use his own musical language to work in service to the libretto written by Royce Vavrek. And it's a very modern approach that Karlsson takes, using a traditional orchestra, opera singers and chorus, but supplementing it with electronic rhythms, synthesisers and sound effects, not so much to create a 'science-fiction' feel as much as find a way to represent two different worlds, the external one and the interior struggle that Justine grapples with.

It might not really be the end of the world, but it certainly feels like it to Justine. This breakdown, coinciding with news of the appearance of the planet Melancholia, doesn't come from nowhere of course and there are many elements to explore in the young woman's relationships with her family; an overbearing mother who isn't satisfied, her father complaining that she isn't happy enough for all the expense he has put into the wedding, doubts about commitment in the marriage to her new husband, and issues with her father-in-law who is also her employer in a job where Justine is something of a workaholic. All of her frustrations, pressures and anxieties come to a head in the pressure-cooker atmosphere of the wedding reception. All of this takes up Act I of the opera, which really amounts to little more than the wedding from hell, but all the underlying issues individually as well as cumulatively are clearly traumatic.

The looming planet that appears in the sky hurtling towards Earth could be just a metaphor for an impending mental breakdown on an apocalyptic scale, but even if it is real, Justine's condition is such that the complete obliteration of Earth would be welcomed. There are several levels that have to be worked on then. Since it is not a movie there is evidently little room for the kind of cinematic techniques, montage and special effects employed by Von Trier, but the composer - if he is good enough - has the most powerful element of all at his disposal, which evidently is the musical expression of the layered issues. Karlsson's music needs to be more than just a soundtrack and it needs to avoid the danger of being bombastic on the progress of a planet hurtling on a collision course, as much as it has to depict the inner disintegration of Justine's mental breakdown.

Karlsson's use of electronic effects and synthesiser rhythms alongside the more traditional orchestral and arioso singing arrangements works quite well. It's a unique new sound I haven't heard used so extensively in opera before and it suits the subject. There's a bit of predictable ominous choral backing of haunting oooohh and aahhhh vocalisations, but there is also strong use of the chorus for reaction to the declining situation. In the first Act it sounds not unlike John Adams, quite dynamic, rhythmic and melodic, curiously establishing a mood that reminded me more of Luca Guadagnino’s use of Adams' music for I Am Love than Von Trier’s Melancholia, the former perhaps also closely related thematically and in a similar social and familial milieu.

As with the film version of Melancholia however, the second half - seen principally from the perspective of Justine's sister Claire - has an entirely different character, her view on motherhood giving a less self-absorbed view. It still has a melancholy and oppressive character, but it's one related to a wider existential concern; the thought of annihilation and extinction, whether personal or global, and the sense of sadness and loss of everything and everyone we know. Karlsson's approach to the music is accordingly quite different in response, as you might expect really, blending the electronic and acoustic well, with electronic sounds, samples and distortion replacing the ordered progress of the music.

While Karlsson succeeds in placing his own stamp on the story of Melancholia, it has to be said that the stage director Sláva Daubnerová and set designer are not so ambitious, or perhaps is less able to avoid the pull of the planetary force of the original, since it remains very close to the visual colour scheme and feel of the film version, certainly in Act I. On the plus side, the single location of the luxury hotel and the wedding reception adds to the intensity of the situation, an oppressively stressful occasion in proximity to family. Nor can they resist a stage version of special effects, having the wedding guests resort to strange movements, speeding up, slowing down and freeze-framing. Act II uses other techniques to close the world down, the stage darkening as the sun is blotted out by the mysterious planet growing larger as it bears down on them, clawing branches reaching down, the borders of the lawn curling in on the remaining figures of Justine, Claire and her son Leo. The projection effects built in intensity alongside this up to the spectacle of the finale.

I'm not sure whether you could say that the opera sufficiently establishes own distinct character from the original film, but you might feel differently if you haven't seen the film. On its own terms Vavrek's libretto, while heavily reliant on the film for situations, does nonetheless have its own expression. "Even as the bride wore white, inside the gown the bride was blue turned black" the chorus intone gloomily at the end of Act I, and I don't recall anything like the Act II hunter's scene in the original film, or certainly not like this and the way the opera slips into a surreal dream or nightmare world. There is definitely an effective equilibrium achieved in the contrasting tone of the two acts, the perspective of the two sisters, and in the music composed for them in each act.

It can't be easy to likewise balance all the varied tones of the drama in the unconventional electronic instruments and sound effects with the acoustic orchestral instrumentation, but the effectiveness of the musical direction under Andrea Molino is evident and impressive. As is the singing. The opera relies on two central performances from Justine and Claire, and it has two superb singers in Lauren Snouffer and Rihab Chaieb, but also solid performances from Jens Persson Hertzman as Michael, the husband and Ola Eliasson as the father. As Justine's mother Gaby, Anne Sofie von Otter must break some kind of record for the most use of the word 'fuck' in the aria 'Fuck you and your fucking rituals'. There is no reason that strong language can't be used in a modern opera, but it feels a little gratuitous here. Then again, why not? There are many ways of expression and this is just another one, which is no less effective than the others so well employed in Karlsson's Melancholia.

External links: Royal Swedish Opera

Wagner - Tristan und Isolde (Bayreuth, 2024)

Richard Wagner - Tristan und Isolde

Bayreuther Festspiele, 2024

Semyon Bychkov,Thorleifur Örn Arnarsson, Andreas Schager, Günther Groissböck, Camilla Nylund, Olafur Sigurdarson, Birger Radde, Christa Mayer, Daniel Jenz, Lawson Anderson, Matthew Newlin

BR-Klassik - 25th July 2024

It's not often I am at a loss of words to describe or give an impression of a production of Tristan und Isolde, particularly one at the Bayreuth Festival which usually gives plenty to think about and unusual directorial touches to describe, but in the case of the new production that opens the 2024 festival I think this Isolde has taken all the words for herself. At the start of the opera we see her wearing a jewel encrusted fencing mask, dressed in a robe filled with words that spreads out around and covers the ground she lies upon, still scribbling more words onto the costume. For the remainder of the first Act however we see little more on the stage than an abstract impression of a ship with rigging sailing through misty waters. Already I'm beginning to suspect that director Thorleifur Örn Arnarsson is going to expect each person who views it to do much of the work for him on this one.

On the other hand, there is something to be said for reining in the traditional excesses seen at Bayreuth for something a little more low key than some of the wilder over-the-top productions seen there over the last few decades under the artistic direction of Katarina Wagner. You can take your pick at which is the most extravagant, whether Herheim's Parsifal, the Castorf Ring, the Baumgarten's industrial Tannhäuser… there are too many to choose from. Perhaps it's time to tone down on the distractions a little and let the music and the singing express everything that needs to be said, or at least everything that is important. In the case of Tristan und Isolde, it doesn't need a great deal of imagined action, elaborate stage sets or re-interpretation to bring out what it is about, but it should leave some openness that allows some of its mysteries to remain. There is at least a suggestion of something mystical and ambiguous in this production around the feelings that truly lie between Tristan and Isolde, even before the magic potion kicks in.

As for the magic potion, well even that is not deemed essential in this production for those feelings to well up and spill over. There is a phial, but neither seem to drink from from it, both already seemingly aware on some level of the feelings they have for each other, the simmering passions that they know are wrong, one a betrayal of Morold, the other a betrayal of King Mark. And yet despite Tristan studiously trying to avoid meeting Isolde on the journey from Ireland until she is delivered to the King in Cornwall, it just can't be avoided. When he does agree to take the drink, he appears to be well aware of Isolde's magical powers since they helped heal him while in Ireland (a source of guilt for both), and as such, knowing what is ahead, he seems willing to accept or unable to deny the fate she offers him, which is death. Isolde for her part, realises this at the last moment and casts the potion away, assuming her own share not so much of the poison as her share of guilt.

If there is not much in the way of pointers as far as the direction goes at this stage, at least there is much to enjoy in the singing. Andreas Schager and Camilla Nylund might not be the first choice singers for these roles, but there is no denying their experience in almost all the key Wagnerian roles for tenor and soprano. Schager is perhaps a bit too earnest, a little steely and overly forceful in delivery - and this becomes more of an issue in the second and third acts. Camilla Nylund is again excellent, following her recent performances as Brünnhilde in the impressive Zurich Ring Cycle. Both are well supported here by Olafur Sigurdarson's Kurwenal and Christa Mayer's Brangäne

Ok, so maybe I'm not left at a complete loss of words, but few of them point to any original observations about the work at this stage. The subsequent Acts don't add a great deal more, lack rigour and focus, but perhaps hint at the framework of an idea, with Semyon Bychkov bringing more to the musical interpretation to spur it along. The orchestral build up to the arrival of Tristan in Act II is furiously played, overwhelming, as you imagine it ought to be. The darkness enveloping Isolde and Brangäne is dimly illuminated at his arrival to show them in a rather more cluttered area in what appears to be the hull of the ship with pipes, gauges, wheels and dials, but also random luggage and objects: a globe, clocks, an urn, stuffed animals, statues and busts, pictures, Isolde's mask, all of it bathed in reddish golden glow.

All the rapturous sentiments are there in Act II, but there s little sense of it meaning anything or any sense of it being connected to the world outside - which is a valid view of two lovers for whom nothing else exists. In what becomes a running theme in this production - and hence where you suspect some intent of commentary or interpretation lies - is that the two lovers seem determined to consummate their love again though the imbibing of the death potion but are inevitably interrupted. Another attempt is made after King Mark’s speech, as Tristan holds the flask and invites Isolde to join him in his wondrous realm of night. Rather than Merlot striking him with sword, Tristan succeeds in drinking from the flask and Isolde is frustrated in her attempt to follow him by an intervention from Melot. King Marke's arrival however reveals that in the light of day, the hull of the ship is nothing more a rusted hulk. These are slim points of difference that don't seem to offer anything significant or new.

Andreas Schager is already feeling the strain a little in Act II through the sheer force of his delivery, pushing much too hard at the expense of a more nuanced interpretation of the dynamic. Camilla Nylund's lovely richness of voice is evident but she doesn't always have the necessary power and lacks any real direction from Arnarsson to help her wade through the text that spills onto her dress. It's probably about time that someone other than Georg Zeppenfeld was given the role of King Mark at Bayreuth (and every other important house in Europe performing this work), but it's only when you hear someone else sing it that you appreciate Zeppenfeld more. It's not an enviable role to enter at this stage in Act II and have to deliver a long monologue wallowing in disappointment and betrayal, but grimacing Günther Groissböck isn't able to make much of it and a section of the audience show their displeasure at the end of act curtain call.

The skeletal hulk of the decaying, rusting ship remains in Act III as Kareol, now even more disordered, with all the junk heaped together in a pile and the dying Tristan slumped against it. Again, it's a slim offering for this work and the failure to make anything significant of the circumstances that drive Tristan and Isolde to consummate their love-death, in as far as that can be done (and in Wagner's world, in his music at least it makes sense) means that it's hard to feel that the right tone has been established for this final scene. Schager gives his usual committed performance but it feels desperate rather than express desperation. His delivery then of Tristan's delirious monologue wavers, impressive in some respects, inaccurate in others as he flails around pushing his voice to its limits. Nylund at least brings a more delicate yet appropriate touch to what the director has been heading towards in the conclusion where she drains what remains in the flask and joins Tristan in death.

It's true that every director has their own interpretation of Tristan und Isolde and there should be no limits placed on that, but I can't help feel that from the small twists on the libretto that are applied here, it shows a fundamental misreading of the work or perhaps a very limited view of it. There is a suggestion that both Isolde and Tristan have deep emotional baggage or physical human limitations - one in Isolde's obsessiveness over trying to put her feelings into words, the other in the objects that almost smother Tristan in Act III - that holds them back from achieving the true transcendence they aspire towards together, both trapped within an imperfect decaying body of the ship. It's not a lot to go on, but with Wagner's remarkable score conducted by Semyon Bychkov and some good singing it's almost enough. Unfortunately with this work almost enough just isn't good enough.

External links: Bayreuther Festspiele, BR-Klassik

Smyth - The Boatswain's Mate (Buxton, 2024)

Ethel Smyth - The Boatswain's Mate (Buxton, 2024)

Buxton International Festival, 2024

Rebecca Warren, Nick Bond, Elizabeth Findon, Joshua Baxter, Theo Perry, Richard Woodall, Rebecca Anderson

Pavilion Arts Centre, Buxton - 19th July 2024

It’s worth saying a few words about Ethel Smyth, since she is a rare and unusual composer and not just because she is a woman - there are few enough of those achieving any prominence even today, never mind back in the early 20th century - although her gender is certainly significant and plays into her work. It may even be seen as a factor in a light comedy opera like The Boatswain’s Mate.

Ethel Smyth is English of course, but musically educated in Europe in Leipzig, where she was familiar with, studied alongside and was on speaking terms with many notable composers of the day. Aside from her scandalous affairs, mostly with women, probably the most significant thing about Smyth was her dedication to women's rights and the suffragette movement, which even led to her serving time in prison. She composed the anthem for the movement, 'March of the Women', and the music for that even appears within the overture to The Boatswain’s Mate. If it has any significance there however, it's only to the extent that the opera features a strong woman at the centre, one rumoured to be based on Emeline Pankhurst.

Directed by Nick Bond, the Buxton International Festival production notionally sets this in the 1980s, but it could be set in the original period of the composition (1913-14) or as an 18th century Richard Brinsley Sheridan comedy of manners for all the difference it makes. It has that timeless essential English character which even if you brought it up to date with mobile phones and social media (set in the 80s may be the most modern you can get without having to consider such technology), it wouldn't age or date the material in the slightest. The whole farce takes place within the most traditional of places that have scarcely dated over the ages; an English pub. It could even be an episode of EastEnders only for the fact that it's not full of miserable people.

Well, there is one miserable person. Harry Benn has been continually making what he believes are honourable advances on the widowed landlady of The Beehive, Mrs Waters, and he can't understand how she could possibly turn down a genuine catch like himself, a former services man, a retired boatswain. He enlists the services of a passing visitor at the pub, another former serviceman Ned Travers, to help him win over Mrs Waters. He arranges for Ned to break into the Beehive at night and stage a fake burglary so that he can come to an heroic rescue. Unfortunately, things don't go as planned and, catching on to the scheme, Mrs Waters gets her own back by pretending that she has shot the unknown intruder dead.

Based on a story by W.W. Jacobs, The Boatswain's Mate doesn't have the most complex of plots and the characters aren't particularly deep, but it's a very entertaining and amusing piece nonetheless. It's as quintessentially English as Gilbert and Sullivan or Britten’s Albert Herring and just as delightful. Whether you can apply the same judgement to Ethel Smyth's music is rather more difficult to judge from the Buxton International Festival performance in the Pavilion Arts Centre. The venue only really permits a reduced version of the score and it's not one authorised by Smyth herself; a piano trio, with violin and cello, led from the piano purposefully by musical director Rebecca Warren.

There is nothing that jumps out about the arrangements other than their suitability for the comedy drama. It starts out with some scene setting, some lager louts singing (another thing that never changes regardless of whatever period you set this in), some spoken dialogue observations by the main characters to inform the audience of their predicament, each of them given an aria to express that more lyrically. The score develops as the work progresses, dropping the spoken dialogue as the rolling drama takes over. It's light and very easy to just let the flow carry you along, none of the scenes, arias or colourful secondary characters overstay their welcome in a two-part one-act opera.

The singing from the three principals is excellent. Elizabeth Findon as Mrs Waters, Joshua Baxter as Harry Benn and Theo Perry as Ned Travers​ bring great character to their roles, each with voices that can carry much more forcefully than the reduced musical score and the smaller sized Pavilion Arts Centre theatre could reasonably accommodate. With a couple of good character roles from Richard Woodall as the Policeman and Rebecca Anderson as the barmaid Mary Ann, not to mention the boisterous singing of the chorus of drunks, all performed in an attractive and functional set, there was much to enjoy in this entertaining production.

There is however nothing here that you could reasonably characterise as 'feminist' by today's standards or even by the standards of the kind of roles male composers of the same period and even earlier were writing (Violetta Valery, Tosca). It is what it is however, a light comic opera, and you can't reasonably expect any great revelations here either musically or in the libretto other than observations along the lines of 'Men, they're all alike'. Other than a strong woman at the centre, I'm not sure you can even gain any real insight into Ethel Smyth, her musical character and what she is about from this work and this production. Perhaps a look at the other recently revived Smyth opera The Wreckers might help give a more rounded view. As rare works alongside the main stage opera at Buxton however, The Boatswain's Mate and Haydn's La Canterina provided a pleasant diversion that balanced out the rather heavier fare of Verdi and Handel in the festival's main programme.

External links: Buxton International Festival

Handel - Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno (Buxton, 2024)

George Frideric Handel - Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno

Buxton International Festival, 2024

Christian Curnyn, Jacopo Spirei, Anna Dennis, Hilary Cronin, Hilary Summers, Jorge Navarro Colorado

Buxton Opera House - 18th July 2024

Performances of Handel operas can be hard work for the audience as much as a challenge for a director to make something of them, but they really shouldn't be. His oratorio works evidently need an extra little bit of dramatic action when performed as staged works, and those that you could categorise as allegorical fables even more so. The Buxton International Festival production of Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno ('The Triumph of Time and Disillusion' as it is normally referred to in English) does its best to find a suitable context to get across the moral message without being too stuffy about it, and if it doesn't entirely make it work dramatically, it at least succeeds in getting across the meaning of the work and highlights the extraordinary beauty of the piece.

Much as he 'excavated' Rossini's La donna del lago to bring it into the present day for Buxton in 2022, director Jacopo Spirei comes up with a fine modern-day situation that establishes the right character for each of the allegorical figures of Beauty, Pleasure, Time and Disillusion (or Disenchantment but closer to meaning Truth). Not quite as hard-hitting as Krysztof Warlikowsi's production for Aix-en-Provence in 2016, here these figures are at least more clearly of a whole, depicted as a family in a drab living room which you could probably call life. It's Christmas time moreover, so there is a little optimism at home even if it's just the delusion of Beauty who thinks this is the way it will always be, that nothing will ever change. Beauty and her sister Pleasure certainly live in the moment, but their father and mother, Time and Disillusion, have some harsh realities to lay out before them.

And they don't mince their words. Well, the words are fairly flowery, as you would expect in a Handel work, one moreover with a libretto written by a Cardinal, Benedetto Pamphili, but the director has a way of making sure the truths hit home. Not so much perhaps in Act I, which drags its feet a little, as do Beauty and Pleasure who refuse to accept the wisdom and experience of their elders. The Second Act, which has one or two of Handel's most beautiful arias including the famous and beautiful Lascia la spina, is a different matter as reality starts to hit home. The opening of the Christmas presents for Beauty turns out to be is a disappointment, but it's not half as stripping of any illusions as Time dragging a coffin onto the stage to remind her that Beauty fades and dies. Nothing too subtle about the delivery of that message.

That's as much as you can do without going the full Warlikowski with this work, where the director of the Aix production layered on elements of the personification of these competing ideas as being on opposing hemispheres of the brain and made allusions to the works of Derrida. What designer Anna Bonomelli manages to do to elevate the Buxton production to a suitable sphere somewhere between reality and moralising is place this within a beautiful set with effective lighting design that contributes to establishing the nature and tone of the work.

It can still be a bit of a slog but that's the nature of Pamphili's somewhat overly florid and solemn libretto, and it's also the nature of Handel's graceful musical treatment, striking something of a mournful note throughout. There are no Vivaldi-like sprints to enliven the uniformity of tone here, but there are some nice directorial touches that find an underlying dark humour and bring out the poignancy that is most definitely there to be found in the music and the situation.

For all its moralising solemnity, Il trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno is still an astonishing work of great beauty, particularly if you are fortunate enough to hear it played live in a suitable venue with singers of quality and suitability for these roles. That is where the Buxton production succeeds brilliantly. The Buxton Opera House itself is also perfect for reduced orchestration, an ideal size for intimacy and acoustic fidelity. With Christian Curnyn conducting the period instrument orchestra of the Early Opera Company - as previously with their Acis and Galatea here in 2021 - it sounded marvellous, beautifully paced and measured, the music balanced with the singing, allowing you to hear and feel the playing of every instrument and get the meaning behind every sentiment.

Ultimately, the brilliance of the work is in the singing. These are gorgeous roles in a range of complementary voices and the casting was impressive, each of them given the opportunity to express their characters. I was particularly taken with the fullness of voice of Hilary Cronin as the Goth dressed Piacere/Pleasure. Hilary Summers' darkly seductive contralto made Disinganno/Disillusion an irresistible force for unwelcome truths, giving the role an otherworldly quality as well as making it feel real and something you could relate to. Which I suppose is the best you can do with a work like this, and it's clear that this is the intention of the director. Jorge Navarro Colorado as Tempo/Time was marvellous, blending beautifully with Summer's Disinganno in their Act II duet. There was some fine singing too from Anna Dennis as Belleza/Beauty, conveyed all the superficiality of the character as well as her deeper emotional response to the dawning - if never wholehearted - acceptance of her fate. 

Not a cheery work by any means, but as far as the Buxton International Festival's treatment of Handel's oratorio goes, this is one regard in which beauty and pleasure win out.

External links: Buxton International Festival

Verdi - Ernani (Buxton, 2024)

Giuseppe Verdi - Ernani

Buxton International Festival, 2024

Adrian Kelly, Jamie Manton, Roman Arndt, André Heyboer, Alastair Miles, Nadine Benjamin, Jane Burnell, Emyr Lloyd Jones, Theo Perry

Buxton Opera House - 17th July 2024

"Please be aware: This production involves death, blood, themes of physical and mental abuse, torture and suggestion of gun violence"

If you didn't know which opera you were going to see, the trigger-warning signs placed around the Buxton Opera House would at least give you a reliable hint that it could only be an early Verdi opera. In fact it could be any early Verdi opera. In this case it is indeed one of those rarely performed works, Ernani, with Act II just before the interval resounding to cries of "Sangue e vendetta!" ("blood and vengeance!"). I wonder how they managed without trigger-warnings in Verdi’s time when this was first performed in 1844. Perhaps that's why there was so much oppression and war being waged by authoritarian rulers and dictators back then, whereas now ...oh, hold on…

Sangue e vendetta indeed, there is not a lot of subtlety in early Verdi, but as was noted recently in the early Verdi compilation opera Rivoluzione e Nostalgia at La Monnaie in Brussels, there is quite a lot of rousing music and singing and a lot of full-blooded drama in these works. Engaging plots not so much, in fact with three powerful men struggling for the hand of one woman, Ernani is not unlike the situation that La Monnaie developed for their early Verdi mixtape, in as much as it's fairly standard plot fare. Attila, I seem to recall, has much the same situation. It's tempting to compare this one with Don Carlos, which itself isn't perfect, but it shows up the vast difference between early and later Verdi. One need only compare how Don Carlo (later to become Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor) here reflects on power in his aria at the tomb of Charlemagne with a similar tomb scene in Don Carlos (over the tomb indeed of Charles V) and the difference in emotional torment and soul searching is apparent.

Not that it matters greatly as far as Ernani is concerned. Plot and character isn't everything. Well, it is perhaps for most other works of opera and drama, but Verdi is a special case. In some respects the composer is tied to tradition and to the taste for historical melodrama of the day, to characters making wild romantic gestures and binding themselves unforced into grand promises that only serve to make the plot even more dramatic. There is only one thing that can make that even more dramatically powerful (powerful doesn't necessarily mean credible) and that’s Verdi's music played at full tilt.

And he really goes for it in Ernani, as does the Opera North orchestra under conductor Adrian Kelly at the 2024 Buxton International Festival. The music is not as heavy-handed as you might think, but never passes up an opportunity to throw in a huge chorus with a punchy flourish at the end. The main feature that Verdi also relies on is the need for singers of an exceptionally high standard for the four of the demanding central roles. You get that right and you have something powerful on your hands, but weaknesses in any of those roles and the whole thing falls apart. There is no question that the exceptional cast assembled here were as good as you could hope for this opera a fighting chance of success, but the options for the director Jamie Manton were limited and despite the strengths elsewhere in the music and the production, he wasn't able to find a way to make it work successfully as a drama.

Considering what he had to work with as a plot, it seems like a reasonable idea to focus instead on character and the interaction between the principal figures of the drama. It's an option I suppose, but it turns out not to be a particularly fruitful avenue to explore. The plot and the motivations of the characters are not complicated as much as a bit daft, or daft to non-existent, certainly in the first two acts. Somehow all three pretenders for the hand of Elvira all contrive to be in the same place as the unfortunate lady is being prepared for marriage, and they have a big row about it. That's about the height of the first half of the work. 

Acts III and IV involves some contrived twists around a secret society of conspirators,  the secret identity of the bandit Ernani being in reality Don Juan of Aragon, a king in disguise and an unusual vow where Ernani promises to kill himself on the sound of a bugle. You would hope that he doesn't come within earshot of just some random bugler. If it wasn't for the fact that they are notable medieval historical figures all squabbling for the hand of the Duke's niece (including the Duke himself), it would be a banal romantic drama. Which, since it's not being played historically in this production, I'm afraid that's how it comes across. It's undoubtedly hard, but with Verdi's score surely not impossible to make these figures something a little less one-dimensional.

The stage production design relied on dramatic lighting which was highly effective for the charged scenes, the all-purpose triangular recessed set serving well for bedroom, court and crypt. Not related to any period however, it felt rather generic and it didn't place the drama into any kind of meaningful context that would make it feel relatable or even credible. That's a tall order I must admit, and based on a previous viewing of this opera in a more traditional setting it may indeed be an impossible ask, but it didn't get a lot of help in direction and character that lacked the conviction to match the overheated drama.

The singing and dramatic performances however were not lacking in any way. Let's start with the chorus as they play a major role in ramping up the tension throughout. They were in fine voice here, providing those big moments to lift the work up above the banal individual romantic and personal dramas. All too often in these Verdi works it's the female soprano in an extremely demanding role that is often the weak link, but that certainly wasn't the case here. Nadine Benjamin was simply outstanding as Elvira with a big voice and fiery delivery. Roman Arndt was terrific as Ernani, presenting a strong pairing with Benjamin's Elvira. The the other two pretenders for her hand also have to be made of stern stuff, as Don Carlo is a king and Don Ruy Gomez de Silva is a duke, both needing to be formidable challengers to Ernani. André Heyboer and Alastair Miles ensured that was the case.

Musically, this was a thrilling account of Ernani, certainly worthwhile to demonstrate the often underrated qualities of Verdi's early work, particularly when you have singing and musical direction of this calibre. Unfortunately, Francesco Maria's Piave's libretto for this old-fashioned romantic melodrama does not hold up well, and despite his best efforts of the director Jamie Manton, there is little depth of human character to be found in these stock historical caricatures.

External links: Buxton International Festival

Wagner - Götterdämmerung (Zurich, 2024)

Richard Wagner - Götterdämmerung (Zurich, 2024)

Opernhaus Zürich, 2024

Gianandrea Noseda, Andreas Homoki, Klaus Florian Vogt, Daniel Schmutzhard, Christopher Purves, David Leigh, Camilla Nylund, Lauren Fagan, Sarah Ferede, Freya Apffelstaedt, Lena Sutor-Wernich, Giselle Allen, Uliana Alexyuk, Niamh O'Sullivan, Siena Licht Miller

Zurich Opera Ring für alle - 26th May 2024

If there's initially a sense that the 2024 Opernhaus Zürich's Der Ring des Nibelungen cycle is getting a little tired and lacking in surprises by the time we get to Götterdämmerung, it's probably as much to do with the opera itself as the production. When you get this far, it can sometime feel like a duty just to see the cycle through to the end rather than any expectation of surprises or twists being pulled out at this late stage in a production. But see it through you must, just for the powerful conclusion that the whole story had been moving towards from very early on, and even if those surprises are fewer, the quality and consistency that has characterised the previous parts is carried through here impressively.

The only ones indeed not able to predict how the remainder of the production play out are ironically the three Norns. The universe of this Zurich production remains within the familiar backdrop of a rotating stage of rooms, the high panelled walls white again after the darkness of Siegfried. Or a little off-white maybe. The world of Götterdämmerung looks worn and neglected, a little battered, the white paint yellowing, cracking and peeling. The three Norn struggle to hold the strands of the rope of fate together, the events that the gods have enacted have worn it down, their fate is now unknown. We on the other hand have some idea of what to expect, at least as far as how the colour schemes present it.

A Rasputin-like Hagen is most definitely dressed in black for this work's divisions of those who serve nature and those whose actions hasten its destruction. The Gibichung break the simple colour coding however; Gunther and Gutrune, wearing red jackets, are of a different mold to the grand mythical forces of black and white in conflict. The time of the Eternal Ones and heroes is past, Siegfried's grey turning into a black and white suit by the time of his wedding to Gutrune and betrayal of Brünnhilde. The thread has been broken, the Sacred Ash destroyed. the Norn perhaps colour blind and therefore unable to see into the unknown future where now only destruction looms.

In this world where we are heading towards the end of an era, the key scene of Siegfried's betrayal of Brünnhilde is crucial and achieved highly effectively here. Siegfried wears the Tarmhelm while Gunther shambles on like a monster version of himself in a mask. Brünnhilde’s horror is felt, but there is the suggestion when she accidentally tears off the Tarnhelm in a struggle for the ring and momentarily glimpses the true face of Siegfried, that she lets herself succumb to the curse that has befallen all of them, a fate that she has already been forewarned off by her sister Valkyrie, Waltraute.

Again, it's the smallest of touches that make the difference here, such as a dejected Wotan making a cameo appearance in Valhalla, Freia's golden apples untouched. It might look like it's just trying to fill out what otherwise looks fairly bare minimal staging, but it's not. Such little details count here, making it feel relatable, like something human is really at stake and not just a grand myth. If you want to see the destruction of the World Ash and demand of Waltraute that Brünnhilde abandon the Ring and all it stands for as a commentary of capitalism exploiting the natural resources and the end of that road leading to climate change destruction unless nature (the Rhinemaidens) is respected, it's there clearly if you want to see it that way, even if none of it is made explicit in the staging. Not that I'm claiming that Wagner was a very early advocate of Green policies, but it's a theme that is large enough to be held within the grand mythology of Der Ring des Nibelungen.

The singing keeps up the remarkably high standards and consistency of the previous parts of the cycle. And when you have good direction as you have here under Andreas Homoki, it means you can enter fully into the purpose and intent of the work. Klaus Florian Vogt can still get away with an ideal mix of youthful naivety and enthusiasm, if not quite the vocal force you expect (but which it rarely attains) for this role. There is an excellent performance here from Camilla Nylund as Brünnhilde, particularly in her confrontation and accusations of the betrayal by Siegfried. It's fitting that she outshines Vogt in this scene in her outrage. I was really impressed with her performance throughout the second Act, necessary to gives the opera the weight, grief and tragedy it needs at the tragic conclusion. David Leigh, who was the dragon Fafner in Siegfried, here takes the role of Hagen with great power and depth, his delivery clear and ominous throughout. Daniel Schmutzhard and Lauren Fagan sing the roles of Gunter and Gutrune roles well. Christopher Purves is once again brilliant as the dark and bitter Alberich.

Again, I am in awe of the musical performance here of the Philharmonia Zürich under Gianandrea Noseda. I've never rated Götterdämmerung all that highly compared to the more popular and widely performed parts of Der Ring des Nibelungen, once in jest unfairly and inaccurately suggesting that it was little more than as a compilation of variations of the leitmotifs from the earlier works, but the beauty and delicacy of the score, particularly in the linking orchestral interludes, is brought out wonderfully in this performance. The weight is perfectly balanced and emotionally attuned without ever slipping into bombast. Perhaps the close attention paid to the detail of the drama and singing help this, but that's not to take anything away from the quality of the musical direction and performance.

As the opera moves towards its conclusion it's clear that there are no major new ideas or grand concept employed here and that the success of the production lies rather in the fact that it is just very good direction that is completely in service to the drama. You look at the deceptively simple minimalism of the sets and colour schemes and wonder how it can still be so effective in establishing mood and drama, and yet it is indeed one of the most effective stagings of Der Ring des Nibelungen that I have seen. It doesn't put a foot wrong anywhere. The mood is right, the acting and singing is of the highest standard, it works hand-in-hand with the musical performance, but what really drives it is the interaction between all those elements. These are not individual performances or creative indulgences, it's a collective ensemble performance, interacting, giving and taking, acting and reacting. And maybe it's there, in how it finds a way for the spectator to connect meaningfully with this grand formidable work of mythology, that this Zurich Ring succeeds so impressively.

External links: Opernhaus Zürich, Ring für alle Video on Demand

Photos - Monika Rittershaus

Ensemble Écoute - Across Borders / entre les horizons

Ensemble Écoute - Across Borders / entre les horizons

Ensemble Écoute, 2024

Fernando Palomeque (conductor), Rachel Koblyakov (violin), Emma Lloyd (solo violin), Emmanuel Acurero (cello), Samuel Casale (flute), Youjin Jung (clarinet), Ezequiel Castro (piano), Quentin Dubreuil (percussion)

The Night With... at the Black Box, Belfast - 6th July 2024

Emma Lloyd – Orbites
Rebecca Saunders – the under-side of green

David Fennessy – The room is the resonator
Matthew Whiteside – Points Decay
Sofia Avramidou – An absurd reasoning
Pierre Boulez – Dérive I

A France-Ireland-UK project, the aim of Across Borders / entre les horizons is to bring new works commissioned from three young composers and present them side-by-side with three complementary works from notable well-established 20th century composers. Whether intended as a means of providing variety and some familiarity to the programme, as a means to reflect contrasts or commonalities, the first night presentation of these works at the Black Box in Belfast as part of composer Matthew Whiteside's The Night With... series succeeded in a number of ways. Played in pairs it seemed obvious to reflect on a dialogue between the two pieces, but perhaps unexpectedly the dialogue tended to be a two-way conversation, each showing the other in a particular light that might not have been the same in a different context. The same sensibility of a two-way dialogue also played into the instrumentation, with groups of instruments playing, responding, coming together to explore possibilities. It also reflected or highlighted the different approaches taken between the older and newer works, some of the newer pieces employing pre-recorded sounds in new ways with new technologies, working with and sometimes against traditional instruments.

Scottish composer Emma Lloyd's Orbites set the tone for this idea, using cycles of playing groups of instruments within the ensemble (woodwind, strings, piano and percussion with Emma leading on solo violin), each of the short cycles initiated by a bell. It's a delicate but deceptively simple work that gains complexity as the work progressively accumulates new sounds and resonances through MIDI samples automatically triggered by the tapping of the singing bowl and with the musicians in the ensemble even taking up glass harp wineglasses in one section. Even the conductor Fernando Palomeque had a hand - literally - in contributing to the variations of modulation, sending samples from a motion sensor glove. Orbites maintains a sense of delicate fragility even though the louder sections, constantly changing, creating a sense of breathless anticipation of what the next cycle would reveal. Even though controlled by pre-programmed triggers, the performance allowed room for the natural sounds to collide and resonate with the technological elements and it came across wonderfully in the clear acoustics of the Black Box concert hall. There was so much to take in here in this piece that it was a good idea to repeat it as an encore at the end of the programme, revealing in the process how tricky and delicate a piece it is to hold together.

Orbites was paired with Rebecca Saunders' the underside of green (1994), which came across as relatively straightforward in comparison, or as straightforward as any Saunders work can be, particularly one that is part of a cycle of works influenced by Molly Bloom’s closing monologue from James Joyce's Ulysses. Its musical contours play on notions of colour and shades of colour, how it reacts and changes barely perceptibly from moment to moment according to the interaction of fluctuations of light and shadow, a similar notion to the changing tones and resonances introduced in Emma Lloyd's piece.

Another world premiere, Northern Ireland composer Matthew Whiteside’s Points Decay was likewise a perfect accompaniment for Michael Fennessy’s The room is the resonator. The latter, a piece for solo cello with live electronics, is a thing of great beauty whose concept makes it essential to hear in a live context, and with some wonderful playing by Emmanuel Acurero on cello it succeeded brilliantly here in its aim of bringing other rooms into the room of the Black Box. The symbiosis was perfect, one drawing from the other, the cello’s acoustic bowing, plucking and tapping electronically amplified, bringing Fennessy's recording of the harmonium in a garage in Aberdeen into the room, forming a whole new unique resonance that was warm and compelling on a July evening in Belfast.

Following it almost in response, Whiteside’s Points Decay struck out with intent, working with the full ensemble, each instrument asserting a strong presence before falling into the pace and sound of the pre-recorded ambient backing track until the ambience ended the piece. In the context of the Across Borders programme and its emphasis on interaction, you could see it as an embracing of the old and new with the new winning out, or you could consider it reflective of the natural world being subsumed by technology. Either way it's an entrancing piece that could have lulled you into a sound-world of ambient contemplation if it were longer, but its necessary concision gives pause for thought on how much we could let ourselves - or perhaps have already let ourselves - hand over control to technology without a thought for the consequences, letting the decay set in.

There was no obvious contrast between acoustic and electronic sounds in Greek composer Sofia Avramidou’s short but intense piece An absurd reasoning. If there was any dialectic, it was in contrast or in response to the quote from an essay on Absurdity and Suicide by Albert Camus reproduced in the concert programme. Rather than take a contemplative approach, violin, cello and piano seemed to be in a furious battle with each other, each nonetheless finding space to say their piece in an attempt to reconcile conflicting, not to mention absurd, ideas.

Absurd ideas are what keeps contemporary music progressive, restless and challenging, never accepting the limitations of what has been defined as natural and acceptable within music. When it comes to crossing borders and extending horizons Pierre Boulez was one of the most important driving forces in the creation of, the promotion of and the gaining of acceptance for new music. In live performance his major works, even his Dérives explorations while composing Repons, show that he is still a force to be reckoned with. Dérives is a reminder of his mastery of bringing together the instruments of a small ensemble and taking them to adventurous places within highly original structures. It's simply a joy to see Dérive I performed live in a room by an experienced new music ensemble.

Such a legacy also presents a challenge that each of the three new composers of different nationalities in this programme nonetheless met successfully in their own works, each in their own way, and they could hardly be more varied and individual in style, technique and delivery. Highlighting significant works and pushing new ways of expression in music forward, contemporary music is all about crossing borders, and the vitality and range of what it can be was illustrated brilliantly in this programme.

External links: Ensemble Écoute, The Night With...