Wagner - Der fliegende Höllander (Dublin, 2025)

Richard Wagner - Der fliegende Höllander

Irish National Opera, 2025

Fergus Sheil, Rachael Hewer, Jordan Shanahan, Giselle Allen, James Creswell, Toby Spence, Carolyn Dobbin, Gavan Ring

Bord Gáis Energy Theatre, Dublin - 23rd March 2025

After a number of ambitious productions in the seasons following their 2018 inauguration, it seemed to me that post-pandemic the Irish National Opera had settled down to productions that are a little less challenging and perhaps more accessible to a wider audience that might not regularly go to the opera. That would seem to continue to be the case with their latest production of Der fliegende Höllander, the most accessible of Wagner's works, although performing any Wagner opera can be seen as challenging enough really. While there was no extravagant contemporary reinterpretation of the meaning of the work or sign of any imaginative play on its themes, it can sometimes be enough just to let a 'respectful' production of Wagner's work speak for itself, and in the case of the INO's 2024-25 season Der fliegende Höllander, that proved to be the case.

Not distracted by trying to work out how the meaning of the work could be aligned with contemporary events, it struck me instead that there are two essential qualities that the INO's production chose to focus on for this Der fliegende Höllander. It was not really the commercial considerations of attracting audiences and filling the Bord Gáis Energy Theatre, which is important evidently but that should ideally come naturally as a consequence of ensuring that all the other essential elements are right. To successfully achieve that in Der fliegende Höllander it's necessary to recognise above all the importance of the role of mythology in Wagner's world, and the two qualities that the Irish National Opera employed to achieve that were through the specific attention given to the musical treatment and, to a lesser degree, through the direction of the stage production. Getting the basics right, in other words.

I'll take the direction of the stage production first, since my initial impression was that Rachael Hewer didn't appear to have anything special to bring to the work. It was impressively designed and looked spectacular in places, but offering little in the way of commentary on the meaning of the work. The long overture is one way of introducing such ideas and it seemed that this one was heading towards what is now, in the United States anyway, a rather unfashionably 'woke' re-envisioning of the opera as a feminist statement. For those of us not under the influence of a resetting of the world to the agendas of rich white American billionaires however, it's an interesting idea that could have a certain validity if you can carry it off. I'm not sure that Wagner would have seen it that way, but it does reflect belief in the power of myth and art to offer redemption and transformation.

The overture sees a young child in a red coat - a familiar device it has to be said and you could confidently expect to see the older Senta sporting a similar one later - being introduced to all manner of women in traditional small community working roles from teacher to governess to the role eventually mapped out for her as a worker in a factory gutting and packing fish. Young Senta respects all these women's choices but she has other wild ideas for herself inspired by her book of fairy tales. She becomes obsessed with the myth of the Flying Dutchman, but really what she believes in is her ability to make her own choices, the myth giving her the courage to believe in herself, in her inner values.

These are recognised by the Dutchman when they meet, something he describes as a woman's greatest quality; her eternal fidelity. Whatever way you choose to see it however, it's essentially Senta's own self-belief in the value of a deeper truth, one which allows her to feel compassion for the injustice of the fate of the Dutchman. It's a minor distinction or small point used to bring the opera into focus, but it proves to be a critical one as far as the production overcoming its limitations elsewhere.

Fergus Sheils' musical direction and conducting of the INO however was simply masterful. There is no other word for it. Wagner's music for this opera - and indeed any of his operas - should hit you right between the eyes, in the ears and in the heart and that's what we got here. Musically of course Der fliegende Höllander is a bit of a curate's egg, the composer on his way to his long through-composition and radical reinvention of what could be achieved in music drama, but there are a few odd left-over elements like Daland's Bellini-influenced aria that breaks up the flow. Under Sheils this however had a coherence and consistency, the whole composition of the opera and its whole purpose being in the telling of myth through music and singing.

It seems self evident, but Der fliegende Höllander is a sung opera. By which I mean Wagner almost totally dispenses with any idea of naturalism and makes it a condition of the characters that they sing of their life. The Helmsman sings a song of longing for return to land and the love of the woman waiting for him, the women sing while they work, Senta relates the myth of the Dutchman in a song, Act III features a drunken boisterous singalong. It's a way of tying life up with myth in the ritual of song, because the opera is all about the power of myth (and Wagner) to change the world. That's what Senta recognises, that is what sets her apart from the other women - and indeed men, her father dreaming only of wealth - giving her the strength to believe in herself.

Sheil gets that and he gets that Wagner provides everything that is needed in the score. As conductor he gets the right mood for every scene, knowing when to slow the pace down for contemplation, when to let an edge of tension and horror creep in, and when to deliver an effective dramatic or emotional punch. That goes hand in hand with the stage direction here. The raising of the tattered, drenched red sails from the depths of the dark ocean below the stage, dripping water in an eery silence, is just such a moment. The choral challenge of the townspeople to the ghostly crew of the Flying Dutchman is another, loud and boisterous, resulting in a flaming torch being thrown and setting the sails alight. (The fire fortunately a projection this time after an earlier fire alarm resulted in an evacuation from the theatre during the interval). All of this - and elsewhere too - established a highly charged atmosphere, not least in the powerful conclusion with the child Senta being winched out of the sea.

All of which might raise a question over Senta’s lifestyle choices, but there are answers waiting to be found there if you want to take the time to think about it. But you didn't need to. The power of Wagner's opera (one that I'm increasingly coming around to consider underrated in as far as measuring up against his great masterpieces) needs no interpretation or translation. The strength of the singing is certainly another vital aspect in getting that across and Giselle Allen's Senta, Jordan Shanahan's Dutchman, James Creswell's Daland and Toby Spence's Erik all fulfilled all those roles admirably as did Carolyn Dobbin as Mary and Gavan Ring as the Steersman, but it's the INO's note-perfect account of the musical interpretation and the mood of Wagner's work - a supreme account of the power of mythology and practically a legend in its own right - that leaves the necessary lasting impression.

External links: Irish National Opera

McDonnell - Politics of the Imagination

Anselm McDonnell - Politics of the Imagination

Stop Small Boats – Crash Ensemble – Leonie Bluett, Kate Ellis, Patrick Nolan – Barrowclough, Joel the Custodian, Kosyne

Politics of the Imagination – Crash Ensemble – Leonie Bluett, Kate Ellis, Patrick Nolan – Barrowclough, Joel the Custodian, Kosyne

The Union is our God – Musicians of the London Symphony Orchestra – Clare Findlater, Tom Ellis, Sam Walton, David Jackson

Cross-Purposes – Musicians of the London Symphony Orchestra – Heather Roche, Louise McMonagle

Independent label CD/Download

One of the problems for composers of contemporary classical or new music, apart from the challenges of getting new work commissioned and performed in the first place, is that it can appear difficult, abstract and academic to the outside observer, detached from the 'real world'. We are a long way away from the political engagement of the music of Luigi Nono (Intolleranza 1960), but fortunately, as seen recently in the latest edition of the Hard Rain SoloistEnsemble's Ink Still Wet programme, there is a new generation of composers willing to confront and engage with the world around us and the new challenges we face today, many recognising the importance of our relationship with nature and how it is under threat, finding relevant and creative ways to explore those issues.

Whether it's concern about the climate or returning to seek solace in nature that is uppermost in many people's mind, the political and social issues raised by Luigi Nono a long time ago are unsurprisingly not all that different from similar problems we face in the world today. There is still a lot of 'intolleranza' going around. I don't think it's arguable that we might even be in a far worse place today, but a different response is required and indeed a new musical approach. What you might not be expecting from a contemporary music composer however - and to be honest, there has been little indication from this composer that he was heading in this direction - is the impact of the first track on Anselm McDonnell's third album, setting the tone for what follows; a word driven electronic beat and a rap that samples and musically elaborates on Rishi Sunak's promise to Stop Small Boats, shifting from Stockhausen into Prodigy territory. Now that's a generational shift.

You can thank Birmingham rappers Barrowclough, Joel the Custodian and Kosyne for that along with members of Ireland's ever creative music group, the Crash Ensemble, but Irish/Welsh composer Anselm McDonnell has already made ambitious steps towards extending the range of what can be explored by contemporary music, and elsewhere on the album working with the LSO, he can be seen working towards a style where there needs to be no strict demarcation or boundaries around what media and instrumentation contemporary music can make use of, nor what subjects it can deal with. The scene set with Stop Small Boats, the music genre barriers already beaten down and ready to confront the political climate of the day, those features are what characterise and what amounts to a kind of rap opera - or 'hip-hopera' - Politics of the Imagination.

There is no need to detail or even rail against everything that is wrong with the world today. In Politics of the Imagination the pertinent question posed by one of its characters is "What do you want to see changed? What's collapsing under the strain? What could be brought into public domain?". Brexit and AI are just two of the problems/solutions mentioned here, but not as merely throwaway buzzwords. These are issues that were/are supposed to bring change, but have they been or will they be for the better? And if there is any good to come of such new ways of working, who will really benefit from them? What is really needed is an imaginative response, a politics of the imagination to find a way how we can break the current failing/failed system and come up with new ideas. No, I'm not seeing much sign of that either, although there are a few crypto-fascist billionaires with some ideas of how much they can gain from breaking the system. If we can be aware of the danger and avoid that fate, that might be the best we can hope for right now.

Politics of the Imagination does just that in a light-hearted, tongue-in-cheek way, but that can be a good and accessible means of getting a message across. Divided into seven sections, the piece opens with the fall-out from a local politician's press conference on his plans to fix the post-pandemic, post-Brexit problems of his constituency of Nether Whitaker, but is really just finding a way to serve his own interests? He is indeed challenged on this quite vocally by one activist, actually a former schoolmate, the two men having very different views on what needs to change. Their discussion continues in an elevator where a mysterious lift attendant takes them on a Being John Malkovich journey to floors where they have the opportunity to try out their ideals in various conceptions of utopia. Needless to say, the future doesn't look too bright (and unfortunately for us here, it does look orange).

Hip-hopera is not a new term or genre, but I don't think its potential as a means to progress musical forms and get across important contemporary ideas has yet been fully realised. The music in Politics of the Imagination does integrate fully with the hip-hop style in a creative way that still retains the flavour of its new music and experimental roots, but it does inevitably take something of a backseat to the delivery to the rap storytelling. If a rap opera sounds intimidating - a challenge new music often has to content with - it is not rap as most of us know it from furious hard driven hip-hop, grime or freestyling monologues, but a form of rap-inflected spoken-word theatre, the three vocalists fluidly interacting in their witty and creatively worded exchanges, leaving space for the situation and the ideas to be heard. The music might never dominate but it also never falls back to simple rhythmic beats and accompaniment either. It's music to explore new worlds, working purely in service of the situations and their utopian ideals, painting an auditory picture, and there is a welcome brief musical coda in the final section, The Basement, that gives pause for reflection and perhaps sums up that fewer words, less idealism and more action is needed.

But the music doesn't stop there and the subsequent final two tracks similarly find new ways in which music can engage with real political events and their consequences on the streets. The Union is our God boldly employs the marching tattoos of snare drums, the boom of the lambeg and confrontational flute playing in a piece inspired by or a reaction to what we call the Marching Season; sounds that are deeply ingrained into the subconscious of many Northern Ireland residents. What McDonnell does however is combine an original arrangement of those traditional instruments with guitar screeches, electronic samples of noises, crashing glass and voices of protestors, ending on a violent note with with a snare hit that sounds like a gunshot. It's a superbly realised piece of music that has absorbs the celebratory nature of the music, but gains deeper resonances and is more than a little unsettling for others who might recognise in it the intimidating background sound of many Belfast summers.

I'm not sure that the behaviour and failures of the UK and world political leaders response to the COVID epidemic needs to be satirised, but consisting of a range of sampled, cut-up and reassembled pronouncements, the final piece Cross-Purposes also clashes familiar voices with sounds in a context where we can take notice of it in a new light. As such it is certainly a topic worth raising again, reminding us by letting the words and pronouncements of our politicians speak for themselves - much like Conor Mitchell and his Belfast Ensemble have done in Abomination, Riot Symphony and the cut-up news samples of Lunaria - that these actions haven't been forgotten and are still out there to be held to account in the court of public opinion. Like The Union is our God and indeed the Belfast Ensemble's work, Cross-Purposes forces you to admire the cleverness of it, take in what it is saying and still feel vaguely disturbed by it all. All good signs that Anselm McDonnell is another Northern Ireland composer on the cutting edge of musical creativity and politically charged contemporary relevance.

External links: Bandcamp, Anselm McDonnell

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, 

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