Coming Together - Louth Contemporary Music Society (Dundalk, 2026)

Louth Contemporary Music Society - Coming Together

LCMS, Dundalk 2026

Canti della tenebra - Beat Furrer
Litanei - Beat Furrer
Coming Together - Frederic Rzewski
 
String Trio - Jürg Frey

in mia vita da vuolp - Beat Furrer
Lotófagos - Beat Furrer
Prophezeiungen - Beat Furrer

Ten Lyrics of Li Po - Harry Partch
U.S. Highball - Harry Partch

Davóne Tines: Recital No. 1 - Mass

Dundalk - 19th and 20th June 2026

The persistent rain stopped and the skies cleared a few hours before the opening evening concert of the first day of the 2026 Louth Contemporary Music Society festival. Now in its 20th year, this year's programme was entitled Coming Together and the LCMS's midsummer celebration of new music brought together many regular attendees under the June sun in Dundalk, Co. Louth, including the seagulls who added their customary background lament. The unique conditions of this setting - something that makes this festival of new music unlike any other - were reflected in the programming for the opening concert at St. Nicholas' Church of three pieces that alone almost constitute a mini-festival. It certainly pointed to the variety and the adventurous direction that the festival would take the in the following full day of concerts; a format that is characteristic of the festival, the programme constantly surprising and delighting, yet retaining a clear coherent unity, never feeling like it is just a collection of pieces thrown randomly together.

The principal guest composer this year was Swiss-born Austrian composer Beat Furrer who has such a variety of work that you could build a festival around his compositions work alone. Furrer, in my opinion (as principally an opera reviewer) excels in vocal pieces and while we didn't get one of his full scale operas at the LCMS festival, the works chosen for the programme proved to be extraordinarily rich in musical, lyrical and even dramatic content. Furrer's astonishing choral work Enigmas featured in last year's festival Echoes, and the qualities of that work were reflected in the two pieces for solo voices on the opening night. Based on a work by the Italian poet Dino Campania (1885-1932), Canti della tenebra for contralto and piano (Cornelia Sonnleithner the contralto, Mary Dullea on piano) immediately grabbed your attention, the mood of the piece melancholic and reflective of someone unmoored on a journey. The musical setting reflected and deepened the meaning - something that would be a feature of the rest of the festival selections - drawing you in and inviting you to feel and connect with the underlying sentiments.

Furrer also gifted us with a remarkable new piece commissioned by LCMS, Litanei for soprano, clarinet & string quartet. It was perhaps not so easy to relate to the emotional content, but the effect of the manner in which the fragments of the poems were assembled and presented was extraordinary. Ingeborg Bachmann (1926-77) and Gaspara Stampa (1523-54) are separated by centuries and language but weaved together their words don't so much intensify their respective agony as much as support each other through the pain. Furrer conducted the ensemble with a very tight rein through the precise, short sharp jagged expressions of intense hurt fired out in the voice and in the instruments ("crushed… skewered…between the pages of the book…reality murdered") were wreathed in short gaps of silence to let them resonate, before building in intensity. Elina Viluma-Helling unveiled some stark emotional trauma that you might not want to feel so viscerally, but for the listener - for this one anyway - it was utterly gripping. You could feel yourself tensing, but somehow the musical development managed to find a release for all the pent up emotions across its short but intense journey. Utterly breathtaking.

In a way that is typical of the programming - and reflected at greater length across Day 2 - Frederic Rzewski’s Coming Together couldn't have been more different in its musical treatment and yet in a way it was complementary to the Furrer pieces and even an ideal way of further coming down from them. The work is based on a letter written in 1971 by Sam Melville, a prisoner in Attica Correctional Facility in upstate New York, in the same year that Melville was later involved in the prison riots demanding basic human rights that saw forty-three inmates and guards killed, including Melville himself. Rzewski's setting of the words is a celebrated piece, very much in the minimalist tradition of Terry Riley’s In C, but it has features that also have echoes to other works seen at the LCMS in previous years such as Gavin Briers' Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet and Robert Ashley in the Lovely Music programme, using conversational or found text with an enigmatic expression that is explored through rhythmic propulsion and repetition.

As delivered by Daisy Press and the ensemble, Rzewski’s Coming Together was just as fascinating and thoughtful the compelling exploration of words in the Furrer pieces, but approached from a totally different angle. Like In C the instruments are not predetermined, but the rising and falling interactive dynamic is an essential scored element and Daisy Press was expressive in exploring the words and communicative in how she put them across, not least in the enigmatic repetition of the line "I think the combination of age and the greater coming together is responsible for the speed of the passing time." Giving this year's festival its title, there are plenty of other opportunities in the remaining Day 2 programme to reflect on that idea of a "greater coming together", but the programme on the opening night concert alone provided a rich musical assemblage of its own.

In as much as any musical piece is - and it was the only purely musical piece in this year's programme - Jürg Frey’s String Trio is a work that locates you in space and time: slowness of time, each note measured out, the performance venue playing a vital role in the uniqueness of the piece. This would sound and feel quite different in Frey's home place of inspiration in the Swiss Alps, it might have sounded different indeed even in Dundalk in another venue like the chapel of St Vincent's but in the former jail of the Oriel Centre, it had perhaps a more melancholy and reflective tone. You could even see a kind of 'coming together' forming already in the festival's programming, the previous evening ending with a piece that was informed by the writing of a prisoner in a jail adding an unexpected resonance to work. Rather than a lament however it felt more like welcoming music, drawing you and the audience back in together, and running to around 47- minutes long, providing something of an endurance test to prep you for the day ahead. Ultimately however the String Trio was rewarding in its slow development and progression, the subtle brush of a bow, the holding on a sustained note, the off-centre changes and interactions of Darragh Morgan (violin), Danusha Waskiewicz (viola) and Jakob Kullberg (cello), and the intimacy and acoustics of the Dundalk Gaol enough to hold you rapt and attentive.

In his introduction to his three pieces performed at St Vincent's Chapel, in mia vita da vuolp (in my life as a wolf, 2019), Lotófagos (The Lotus Eaters, 2006) and Prophezeiungen (Prophesies, 2023), Beat Furrer talked about voice, language, the inspiration of the poems that they are written around, and how there is a needing to feel them deeply in order to write music for them. The pieces all accordingly have different combinations of singer and instrumentation; in mia vita da vuolp for soprano and baritone saxophone, Lotófagos for soprano and double bass, Prophezeiungen for alto, contrabass clarinet and accordion. Two of the pieces have opera connections, Lotófagos incorporated into the Furrer opera Wüstenbuch (2010), Prophezeiungen written in preparation for the opera Das grosse Feuer (2025), and performed by musicians and singers of the astonishingly virtuosic Cantando Admont vocal ensemble they were accordingly fully dramatic in expression, from the lowest of whispers to the most piercing of shrieks, from rapid recital of text to slowest drawing out of words.

Testing voice and instruments to their limits, soprano Elina Viluma-Helling and baritone saxophonist Gerald Preinfalk swooped and howled though in mia vita da vuolp; double bass player Nikolaus Feinig was bent over at a 90° angle for most of the 10 minutes of high bass notes of Lotófagos in a battle to draw full expression out of the setting of the Spanish text scored in a dauntingly challenging range that was met by soprano Giulia Zaniboni. The combination of voice and instruments of these two pieces produced some incredible sound worlds, but the most striking and unusual was evident in Prophezeiungen, the contrabass clarinet of Marco Sala and accordion of Krassimir Sterev creating unearthly sounds that wove through the astonishing vocal delivery of alto Helena Sorokina. It was a charged pin-you-back-into-your-pew performance of all three pieces, finding incredible musicality even at the most extreme limits of sound, voice and music, but always in service to the vivid imagery of the texts.

Ostensibly having little in common with the other concerts, Harry Partch fits into this programme much more easily than you would think, which is of course one of the wonders of the programming of the LCMS, which always looks for something a little more outside the box for its event at the Spirit Store venue. Creating his own self-made custom instruments, composing in just intonation, new music doesn't get much more experimental than the truly unique and inimitable compositions of the American iconoclast Harry Partch, very much an outsider in life and work compared to the European modernists of the early 20th century. What the music also has in common with the other pieces in the LCMS programme however is the distinctive nature of the writing for the voice, Partch adopting just intonation precisely for a more natural expression of the spoken voice. 

We got a broad view of Partch's work from his earliest work in his new experimental style in Ten Lyrics of Li Po, Luke Fitzpatrick playing Partch's customised viola with a cello neck studded with little metal studs described as 'brads' in the programme notes. U.S. Highball however felt more authentic Partch, recounting his own lived experience as a hobo hopping trains across America, authentic also in its record of those whose company and adventures he shared, having tremendous value for that alone. Using an adapted fretless guitar, its notes and sounds played out on raised strings with picks on right hand and bottleneck slides on the left fingers, the whole piece as Charles Corey notes (and plays) "captures the relentless energy of freight trains barrelling down mountainsides".

You don't usually get an opera singer doing a recital at the LCMS, but even when it looks like that is what has been programmed for the final evening concert of the festival, you can be sure it won't be any regular recital. Davóne Tines is however definitely a big name American bass-baritone in the opera world. I saw him in Amsterdam ten years ago when he made his first significant international appearance for the premiere of Kaija Saariaho's Only The Sound Remains at the DNO, and he has taken notable roles in premieres of John Adams' Girls of the Golden West and Terence Blanchard's powerful Fire Shut Up in My Bones, all indicating that Tines works outside the standard repertoire and very much in the sphere of new music. His Recital No. 1 - Mass then is indeed not just the regular programme of songs removed from their original context, but rather pieces selected and arranged to form a new context; a modern mass, so to speak, given appropriately in the St. Nicholas' Church of Ireland in Dundalk. And in that respect, it's also very much in this year's programme of finding creative and imaginative ways of interpreting words and finding a way to bring out other deeper personal meanings and ideas.

On paper Recital No. 1 - Mass is an eclectic mix; Handel and Bach side-by-side with Caroline Shaw and Julius Epstein, with spirituals arranged by Tyshawn Sorey, better known to me as a virtuoso jazz drummer but also pianist and composer. Conceptually however Tines had the whole recital perfectly arranged and measured and the voice to carry it off, accompanied only by the piano of John Bitoy. Bach's Mache dich, mein Herze, rein and the spirituals in particular were quite movingly sung and played, the church (or heavens) even playing its part in the evening by beaming a ray of the setting sun through the front windows of the church down to the altar to light up a ferocious delivery of Moses Hogan’s Give me Jesus. It's this kind of unpredictable and unprogrammable moment that you get more often than you would imagine at the LCMS and it's the kind of thing that makes the LCMS truly special. Whether the US bass-baritone succeeded in his aim of creating a queered mass or touching on something spiritually transcendental, Tines certainly made a case for the negro slave spirituals being as equally close to the love of God as Bach's celestial music, bringing humanity to the divinity. Somehow that seemed to be the perfect summation to the coming together of all the adventurous, surprising and uplifting music presented in this year's LCMS programme.

External links: Louth Contemporary Music Society

Wilson - Adam's Rib / Nono - Das atmende Klarsein (Dublin, 2026)

Wilson - Adam's Rib / Luigi Nono - Das atmende Klarsein

Dublin International Chamber Music Festival, 2026

Bernie Sherlock, Lina Andronovska, David Stalling, New Dublin Voices

Chapel Royal, Dublin Castle - 5th June 2026

Composing a work for the same distinctive instrumentation as one of the great works from Nono's late period and having it performed in its world premiere performance at the Dublin International Chamber Music Festival side-by-side in a way that invites comparison could not be something any modern composer would undertake lightly. While there are inevitably sonic and conceptual similarities between it and Nono's Das atmende Klarsein, Ian Wilson's latest work Adam's Rib nonetheless has a quality of its own that bears the comparison well.

From the wordless Orpheus descending into the Underworld in Orpheus Down to his latest work available on CD Lost Voices that explored the theme in various contexts, the use of voices, silence and the space in between them has been a significant feature of Ian Wilson's recent work. Another familiar feature has been the use of the texts of the Serbian poet Draginja Adamović and - much like Nono's use of Rainer Maria Rilke texts for Das atemende Klarsein - the vivid imagery found in those poems is the inspiration for musical exploration that relies to a large extent on the human voice to bring it to life.

Inevitably, Wilson's arrangements are different to Nono's in respect of how they relate to the texts and their imagery. Described in the programme notes as "dreamlike poems [that] inhabit a world of shifting realities, elemental imagery and fragile transformation", the composition fully reflects this shifting reality, using the bass flute to interact with the text and underline its expression, playing on the ambiguity within its contrasts ("Eve holds a flower in her hands/More beautiful than death") to suggest that even within horrific experiences, there is always the hope of truth and beauty gaining supremacy. It's very much in line with the composer's journey of Orpheus and the experiences recounted in Lost Voices.

Unlike Das atmende Klarsein, where the flute, tape and live electronic manipulation play out separately from the sung text allowing for response and reflection, Wilson uses the bass flute to play alongside the sung text. In the venue of the Chapel Royal at Dublin Castle, the texts in Adam's Rib were more clearly audible and not just for being translated into English, as Nono attenuates words and phrases almost beyond audible sound towards dying breaths. Flautist Lina Andonovska - a musician who has clearly been another source of inspiration for the composer, someone capable of fully exploring the shifting realities and marshalling forces behind them - moves between soft accompaniment to the sung voices to occasional jabs towards the vivid imagery expressed in them, the two finding a joint moment of almost ecstatic revelation in the fourth section where "The deepest light/Flooded me with its radiance". But if there is any sense of rediscovery of "I Who again Am I", it has clear that it has come from out of a very dark place.

It's in that sense that Wilson's Adam's Rib reflects and contrasts with Nono’s Das atmende Klarsein. While I wouldn't call the piece a radical departure from the great Italian avant-garde composer's previous works, or even a refinement, there is nonetheless a sense of the composer exploring new possibilities in sound, in the voice, in the use of the words; one that would lead towards his late masterpiece, the momentous Prometeo. Using poetic fragments from the Seventh Duino Elegy written by Rainer Maria Rilke, along with fragments from political and Greek funerary inscriptions, it explores that moment of "breathing clarity" that comes after a thunderstorm "nach spätem Gewitter, das atmende Klarsein". It also strives in its choice of musical and vocal resources to touch on that moment of radiant revelation expressed in the extraordinary text, nature itself providing the inspiration for the drive and focus of the music, the piece ending with the words "Aus Dunkel steigt ein buntes Offenbares" ("Out of darkness rises something radiant").

The piece itself feels like it is delving into those words and letting them hang there to be contemplated for their meaning as well as their sound, the work - particularly in live performance - still holding the capacity for expression of tremendous tension and release. The use of space around it is also embraced, in the acoustics of the venue that naturally disperse the range of the voices, as well as in how the bass flute is enhanced through electronics and sound projection controlled here by David Stalling. The voices disappear, almost seeming to dissolve into the ether, the texts - at times scarcely decipherable - no longer mere words but actions, their resonance taken up by flute and electronics and dispersed around the auditorium. The voices return again to take up the train of thought, restate their place, holding, sustaining, straining to expand out "into the open". 

If there were electronics for spatial dispersion used in Adam's Rib, they were less evident and more gently introduced, whereas in Das atemende Klarsein they a have a more vital role to play in the dynamic of the 40-minute piece. As does every part really. If I wasn't already familiar with the flute playing of Lina Andonovska from other works composed for her by Ian Wilson, I would have been astonished at her playing here pushed to a new level by Nono's extraordinary piece. The New Dublin Voices conducted by Bernie Sherlock have an equally challenging dynamic that explores the subtleties of the words in the articulation of the words and the breath that surrounds them. With David Stallings live electronics, all of this is a reminder that works like these can only truly be heard and felt in performance, breathing the same air as them, echoing and reverberating in a thrilling and evolving way. Even more so in the location of the Chapel Royal of Dublin Castle, an ideal venue for the performance of both works.

External links: Dublin International Chamber Music Festival

Bellini - Norma (Wexford, 2026)

Vincenzo Bellini - Norma

Irish National Opera, 2026

Maurizio Benini, Orpha Phelan, Salome Jicia, Mario Chang, Siobhan Stagg, William Guanbo Su, Aaron O'Hare, Leanne Fitzgerald

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 3rd June 2026

Directing a bel canto opera is always going to be a challenge, but the history and origin of Bellini’s Norma makes it a little more difficult than most. The opera is not short on high emotional drama, but the shape and tone of the work is tied to its composition in 1831 as a star vehicle for the talents of the leading soprano of the time, Giuditta Pasta following on the success of her La sonnambula at La Scala earlier in the same year. Directing Norma for the Irish National Opera, Orpha Phelan however is unable to do little more than update the drama away from its largely static setting of Gaul during the Roman occupation (100-50BC) and make sure it avoids druidic processional mannerisms, but in a work that is dominated by its famous aria 'Casta Diva' and a plot that amounts to little more than a romantic love triangle melodrama, the opera still feels mired in the past and as little more than a star vehicle for the dramatic soprano. Sometimes however that can be more than enough, and that proved to be the case with the INO production, where they were fortunate enough to have an outstanding soprano in the leading role who was more than capable meeting the challenges.

If it's hard to make Norma feel relevant and feel like it has something to say that relates in any meaningful way to contemporary concerns - who doesn't know what it's like to be in a disintegrating love affair with a general from an occupying enemy force? - Bellini's writing for the opera at least makes it feel like the life and death of thousands depend on the outcome of Norma's actions. I'm being facetious of course, but there is a Medea-like dilemma in the work where Norma's children are caught in the crossfire and that is something that is touched upon deeply in the opera, if not quite to the same level of horror as Greek mythology. Orpha Phelan rightly doesn't let the work get bogged down in a historical period that has little relevance to the dramatic action, and instead depicts it in a post-apocalyptic setting to presumably enhance the idea of this being a matter of life, death and survival against overwhelming forces.

The term post-apocalyptic used to mean to mean a future dystopia, but the dull heavy clothing and makeshift living conditions out of ruins and rubble now looks like an all too familiar scene in parts of the Middle East and Eastern Europe. If there is any suggestion of such a comparison, it's not explicitly stated - and perhaps doesn't need to be - but if it is the intent to make it look like something we can relate to more easily and more deeply than ancient Gaul, the production succeeds on that level, even if it doesn't really make any greater statement about the state of contemporary world affairs. There is a nod however to the Roman period where Pollione and Flavio have red tinted Mohican haircuts, which I found a bit silly. 

The setting itself is however the least important part of Norma. I'm no fan of original period settings as they can make the opera seem stuffy and old hat, but I'm not sure that it would have made any difference here, as the real challenge the director faces is that there is not a lot of actual drama or movement in Norma. It's all sung emotional turmoil, and Phelan works with the expression of it in the music and does what she can with it, particularly in the overture which is used to show the pain and the human cost of war (something this director also did in an RNCM production of Owen Wingrave in Manchester last year). I would have loved if the INO had been able to find a way to make the opera feel a little more meaningful and contemporary, but Norma is what it is and you have to work with what you've got. Any attempt to manipulate it into something it is not (see Àlex Ollé's Spanish Civil War production for the Royal Opera House in 2016) risks impacting on the whole fabric of the opera and work against where its real strengths are.

The most that Phelan was able to achieve was to tweak the focus to make Norma a little less victim of betrayal by a man and more taking a determined and principled self-sacrificing stand for the sake of her children. I didn't think this really came across or even that it was needed, but in passing - again never made overly explicit - the underlying Greek tragedy elements of this situation could be seen as having wider implications for the individual and society (not just a woman in a relationship with the wrong man) on opposition to controlling and corrupting figures of authority. If little or any of that came across with any noticeable intent and the production didn't have any new ideas as a concept to sit the drama upon, it was clear nonetheless from the overall impact on the night of the performance in Wexford that it wasn't needed.

Under the musical direction of Maurizio Benini - invited by INO artistic director and principal conductor Fergus Shiel as an authority on bel canto opera - it was a truly thunderous account of Bellini's wonderfully calibrated score, with choruses well-employed throughout to give that punchy impact where the opera needs it. Not that it needed much, as the Georgian soprano Salome Jicia delivered all the emotional impact and volume required at a pitch that struck you fully in the heart. This was a real powerhouse performance, outstanding on every level, completely up to the quite extraordinary challenges of the role. Jicia's voice was strong from the outset ringing out with a passionate force that she maintained throughout and which remarkably even gained emotional depth as the opera progressed.

It's a hugely challenging role, one sung by some of the greatest sopranos in opera history - and there are few enough capable of singing this role effectively today. The delivery of the opera as a whole was perhaps enhanced by the custom designed acoustics of the National Opera House in Wexford. Lesser known and rarely performed bel canto works have been the primary focus of much of the Wexford Festival Opera's 75 year history and the new building, opened in 2008, remains ideal for the performance of works like this. Being more used to seeing opera here during the festival's October dates, the heat in the auditorium on a June evening however was an added challenge for the audience in a pretty much full house for this performance in Wexford.

If I have reservations about the relevance of the opera and the production's dramatic focus, the nondescript but functional production design, I am in no position to argue with Bellini's writing for the voice. And, after all, the principal attraction of Norma is the singing and the Act I aria 'Casta Diva' - you could have heard a pin drop in the reverent silence during Jicia's performance here. The role of Norma is a challenge in itself, but it still needs the strong support that Bellini builds in to give dramatic and emotional depth to the role as more than a singing showcase. It helps then when you have an outstanding team to deliver it and, in addition to Jicia, I was most impressed with the solemn authority that bass William Guanbo Su's Oroveso brought to counter the high melodrama elsewhere. Siobhan Stagg held her own against Jicia's Norma, Mario Chang was a robust Pollione, and Aaron O'Hare as Flavio and Leanne Fitzgerald as Clotildhe rounded out an impressive singing cast.

And really, when you have singing like that, when you have the orchestra playing as it did here under Benini, when you have a well-managed chorus and a director who focuses on the singers making the characterisation feel meaningful and vital, Norma takes on a life of its own and renders any reservations about relevance or dramatic credibility as pretty much irrelevant. It sweeps you towards a finale then that was everything it should be; grandstanding drama, shock revelations, underscored (probably not a suitable word in the circumstances) by the heft of dramatic musical writing and a roaring chorus. You can see why Norma is a popular work, with one of the most famous arias in the whole canon, but also why it's not as frequently performed as it might be. The reason for that is clearly it requires a singer of exceptional ability and all the other elements built around that. The INO production had that with Salome Jicia and they made it count.

External links: Irish National Opera