Adámek - Seven Stones (Aix, 2018)

Ondřej Adámek - Seven Stones

Festival d'Aix en Provence, 2018

Ondřej Adámek, Léo Warynski, Éric Oberdorff, Anne-Emmanuelle Davy, Shigeko Hata, Nicolas Simeha, Landy Andriamboavonjy, accentus/axe 21

ARTE Concert - 10 July 2018

The commissioning of new opera work is an important part of Aix-en-Provence Festival, something necessary to keep opera fresh by providing opportunities for established composers to develop new repertoire, but Aix also seek to extend it to encompass and expand the definition of what opera can be and the audience it can reach. In recent years there have been children's operas, opportunities for female composers and works from other parts of the world with a different musical tradition, played on instruments and in a style far removed from the western tradition. Largely these have all proved to be fascinating and innovative works, enriching the programme.

Commissioning a first opera from the Czech composer Ondřej Adámek is a further ambitious outreach into the field of experimental new contemporary music. Adámek's new works, which premiere regularly at the annual Donaueschinger Musiktage Festival of new music, are unconventional to say the least, but there actually is something theatrical about his use of unconventional sounds and the voice as an instrument. There can also be something of a visual spectacle in his presentation, such as in the 2014 Donaueschinger premier of his 'Körper und Seele for air machine, choir and orchestra', which derived sounds from inflating and deflating balloons.

The voice is the primary musical instrument in Adámek's Seven Stones, an "Opera a capella for four soloist singers and twelve chorister singers", but the work also makes use of a variety of percussive sounds and music performed on unconventional instruments, found objects, kitchen utensils and others built in the composer's workshop specifically for the purposes of the opera. In fact, everything about the composer's approach to the opera is a challenge and questioning of its traditional form. It accepts no preconditions but builds anew, from the instruments to the use of the voice, whether it should be an operatic voice, a normal pitch of voice or the voice as an instrument. Neither is it performed by a static orchestra sitting out of sight in the pit, but moving around and up on the stage.

The conductor too has a different role to play in Seven Stones, setting the story off with the recurring image of putting a stone to one's head. The story and libretto is created by Sjón, an Icelandic poet who has worked with Björk, and there is something mythic (fitting with the theme of this year's Aix Festival) about the story of a mineralogist who sets out on a quest to discover 'the first stone', the stone that Jesus Christ prevented from being used in the Biblical story of the woman condemned to death by stoning for adultery ("Let he who is without sin cast the first stone"). A quivering figure found in the snow at the start of the opera, the collector is brought back by the touch of a stone to a Central European pub where his stone collection is kept. There he is minded to recall how his search for stones would take him from Argentina, to Japan and Paris.

The international flavour of the journey is not accidental, as it in many ways reflects both Adámek and Sjón's own journeys of exploration and discovery of music, tradition and storytelling from far-flung places. Seven Stones however is a journey in time and in space, not just appropriating the sounds of other cultures and traditions, but exploring them for resonance, looking into them for deeper relationship to questions of mythology and its importance to the human spirit. It's not Parsifal by any means, but in a similar respect Seven Stones touches on the essence of what opera is for and about, seeking to overturn some of those grand myths and get to the essence of the truth that we seek to hide behind them. In the case of the stone collector, the reality he is hiding from leads to a resolution that is perhaps a little contrived, but the journey to get there has many other things to reveal.

The use of unconventional instruments, household objects and custom built instruments for each scene is another way of breaking down preconceptions and predetermined musical constructions, Adámek seeks to find something that brings us closer to the sentiments and true nature of the subject. Rather than remain in the pit, these constructions that are wheeled out onto the stage, providing a dual function of being played and also being part of the scenery and props. Those instruments include a framework of pipes that are used to create crashes and rhythms, string instruments that evoke a tango sound for the Argentinean sequence and small hammers on stones for the scene in Japan sounding similar to the striking of blocks in Noh theatre. More than just providing exotic colouration, the instruments - particularly stones - are also crucial to the foundation and building blocks of the work itself.

The use of voices, provided by accentus/axe 21 are similarly woven into the framework of the music and the narrative. They start out percussively, stuttering and staccato, sounds and syllables forming words and then sentences, marking time and rhythm as well as meaning. Sung in English - not always the most musical tongue in contemporary opera - Adámek is not afraid of allowing the words to be audible and lyrical, with musical and melodic phrases, rather than letting it slide into dissonance and recitative or stretch out into extravagant virtuosity just for the sake of it. Whether you find anything meaningful in the message of "A stone thrown in anger never returns to the hand", there is certainly more to be gleaned with the symbolism of a stone, a man, a journey, time and associations with mythology, obsession and idealism. Adámek's musical approach adds another dimension that does extend the work's ideas, and indeed the reach and definition of what opera can be.

Links: Festival d'Aix en Provence, ARTE Concert

Filidei - Giordano Bruno (Paris, 2016)

Francesco Filidei - Giordano Bruno

Théâtre de Gennevilliers, Paris - 2016

Léo Warynski, Antoine Gindt, Lionel Peintre, Jeff Martin, Ivan Ludlow, Guilhem Terrail, Laura Holm, Eléonore Lemaire, Johanne Cassar, Lorraine Tisserant, Charlotte Schumann, Aurélie Bouglé, Benjamin Aguirre Zubiri, David Tricou, René Ramos Premier, Julien Clément, Antoine Kessel, Florent Baffi

ARTE Concert - 19th April 2016

There's clearly a very considered and structured approach taken by composer Francesco Filidei in relation to both the philosophical and musical content of his opera about Giordano Bruno. Interrogated by the Inquisition in Venice and condemned to death by the Catholic Church in Rome for blasphemy and heresy for putting his belief in scientific truths before religious dogma and mysticism, the Dominican friar was burned at the stake on 17th February 1600. Filidei's work attempts to give voice to his philosophical thoughts as well as dramatising his trial and execution and it results in a tremendous piece of musical theatre.

Filidei's opera divides the work into twelve scenes that interweave across the two halves of the work, the first taking place in Venice, the other in Rome. The twelve scenes themselves are divided between giving a voice to Bruno's philosophical ideas, with alternative scenes showing how he suffers for them at the hands of the religious authorities who will not have their faith challenged. That's a strong enough construct that allows for drama and contemplation and it's a blend that the composer and his librettist Stefano Busellato treat extraordinarily well, the ideas and situations providing the composer with the opportunity to create a rich sound world.

As a further measure, to add to the richness of the work and give further robustness to the construction, Filidei chooses to base each of the twelve scenes around each of the notes of the chromatic scale. The opera's first scene 'Preamble' - set in the smoking ruins in the aftermath of the auto-da-fé - starts on F-sharp, with subsequent scenes based on the trial following a descending path on the scale, while the scenes relating to Giordano Bruno's philosophy each start on an ascending note on the scale. The burning at the stake in Scene 11 runs through the chromatic scale again in reverse until scene 12 arrives at F-sharp again.

More than just being a technical trick, Filidei's sound world in Giordano Bruno is one that relates very closely to the situation, and particularly to the vocal expression. Some scenes are spare and atmospheric with repetitive phrasing of voices in the style of Salvatore Sciarrino, others multi-layered with choral sounds that draw influence from the Renaissance era of the work, of Palestrina by way of Claude Vivier (whose Kopernikus comes very much to mind here). Filidei's writing however is strong enough to encompass the vast range of the work's philosophical content, its consideration of life and death, of the exuberance of life in a carnival scene, in an escapist fantasy while in a prison cell, or in the full horror of a barbaric ritual execution.

At every stage however, there is great attention paid to the use of voices and the range of voices. Giordano Bruno is sung by a baritone (Lionel Peintre here running through a whole range of emotional and physical challenges), the Inquisitors are a tenor and a bass, with Pope Clement VIII sung by a countertenor. Also of great importance to the whole fabric of the work are the twelve individual voices of the chorus who contribute to provide an almost celestial or spiritual side to the work, as well as a very physical human presence as the voice of the people. They are a wave of flesh and ideas that Bruno has to alternately reach out to and then resist, an embodiment of the conflict he undergoes over the course of the twelve scenes.

Filmed at the Théâtre de Gennevilliers in Paris in 2016 not long after its creation and premiere at the Casa de Musica in Porto, it's hard to imagine the work being any better presented. The direction of the Ensemble Intercontemporain is taken up by Léo Warynski, and - set to the back of the stage - their presence emphasises how important the sound world is for this opera, how it creates a specific mood, and it draws attention to just how complex and varied the music is in relation to each of its scenes.

The stage sets and props are minimal, but likewise effective for the content and the tone of the work. A huge moon-like hemisphere hangs over the stage and the use of lighting all contribute to capturing the reality, the philosophy and an understanding of the nature of the world being explored and challenged here, which is nothing less than infinity and the place of man within it. The dramatic sequences are just as well depicted, again using simple effects and minimal props to give a sense of the forces massed against Giordano Bruno and the fate that is in store for him, and those final scenes at the stake indeed have a terrific impact.

The attention given over to the musical performance and the scene setting are all there however to serve as a platform for the all-important human presence on the stage. The place of man is at the centre of all these ideas, rituals, philosophy and beliefs and the conflicts between them are all focussed through the figure of Giordano Bruno. Lionel Peintre carries the weight of this conflict with a terrific singing performance, but Filidei makes such marvellous use of the voice that the strength of those ideas and the conflicts between seem to assail him from every side. The physicality of the performances, with the chorus and dancers also having an important part to play, gives the words real weight, showing the power of ideas and ideals to change the world.

Links: Théâtre de Gennevilliers, ARTE Concert

Rivas - Aliados

Sébastian Rivas - Aliados

Festival Musica, Théâtre de Hautepierre de Strasbourg, 2013

Léo Warynski, Antoine Gindt, Nora Petročenko, Lionel Peintre, Mélanie Boisvert, Thill Mantero, Richard Dubelski

ARTE Live Web Internet Streaming, 4th October 2013

Presented at the 2013 Festival Musica in Strasbourg (and streamed live via ARTE Live Web on 4th October), Aliados is a somewhat experimental opera work from Sébastian Rivas that mixes avant-garde Ircam electronics with acoustic instruments and voices. There's also a modern approach taken to the staging of the work with the use of live cameras projecting, highlighting and enhancing the dramatic action. Perhaps most interesting aspect of Aliados however is the subject matter of the work which sets out in real-time a 75-minute meeting on 26th March 1999 between the Chilean President in exile Augusto Pinochet and the former British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, who had only recently been forced to step down from her position.

More than just a two-person dialogue, there are actually more people involved, and the work does successfully extend outside the room to the outside world where the actions of these two people once had a much wider impact. This aspect is indeed so vital that it the opera even opens with an Argentinian soldier, shell-shocked and tormented by the Falklands war, writhing on the stage, who reappears at a later stage to emphasise in barked delivery that he was "conscripted into the theatre of operations ...for nothing", by "generals, assassins and pirates".

There's definitely a sense of confusion as to what it was all for, but a determined sense of self-justification as the work progresses on the part of Pinochet and Thatcher. Pinochet is clearly ill, slumped in a wheelchair, his memory failing, making confused and fragmentary comments about a "beautiful ship", "The Phoenix", "Pearl Harbour" and the Second World War. An aide, who is preparing his medication and keeping a register of the Senator's "achievements" (lists of deaths, arrests and the disappeared) tells him that he's thinking of the Belgrano, sunk by British forces during the Falklands War. Pinochet, longing for the "blood-covered streets of Santiago", has no regrets for the deaths caused by his regime, raving that it necessary for "national unity" and that it was Allende and the Communists who are really to blame for the problems in Chile.

Baroness Thatcher arrives with her personal secretary and the two former world leaders exchange gifts of their own biographies, in mutual admiration for themselves and each other. Grateful for his aid during the Falklands conflict, Thatcher offers Pinochet political asylum and talks about needing to "keep her head" for a statue that is being cast to stand in Westminster, but her speech is marked by gaps and it seems clear that her mind is also failing. Eventually, both slump into their chairs in defeat, only to be revived by troubling memories resurfacing, Pinochet preoccupied over descriptions of himself as a dictator, the Iron Lady recalling the miners and the Belgrano, slipping into refrain of "it was a danger to our ships... that is fact" on an electronic loop that forms a mournful chorus of self-justification.

Both the music and the staging are vital in establishing this very particular mood and make some effort to get beneath the surface of these larger-than-life characters towards some semblance of personality if not exactly humanity. Stage director Antoine Gindt manages to give a sense of the encounter taking place in real-time by using multiple cameras that project details and close-ups. He also captures something of the closed room mentality of the protagonists within the limits that mark out the square room, but also gives a wider sense of who they are and how their actions have had a wider impact beyond the walls of the room by having the floor made up of a collage of photographs and newspaper articles related to the Falklands War, with additional images and footage projected on the screen behind.

Rivas' score works in a similar fashion, the music - played out mainly on solo violin with trombone, piano and saxophone - has percussive elements that are insistent in a militaristic way when referring to the wars and deaths. Through some computer manipulation and electronic effects - applied to the voices as much as the instruments - the score also manages to reflect the wavering, distorted mentalities of Pinochet and Thatcher, the sound haunting and twisted, backed by drones and random noises.

In some respects the subject matter of Aliados is similar to John Adams' Nixon in China in as much as it touches on the god-like delusions of the powerful and the reality of the frailty of the human mind and personality. Aliados however is much more chamber-like and intimate in its observations, the libretto free from the poetical observations and abstractions of Nixon in China, avoiding making any specific political or social observations that the meeting between Thatcher and Pinochet might signify. It's much more a sonic exploration of two personalities of common accord in their common discord.  

It seems appropriate that the two even dance a tango of a somewhat disturbing if tender nature, a dance over the dead by two former "Defenders of the the Atlantic", two allies ("aliados") confined now to the smallness of a room and the terrors of their own disintegrating minds. A sad account of the endgame of leaders who abuse power and wage war - particularly on their own people - Aliados is unquestionably a work of extraordinary intensity that has relevance to many other contemporary world situations.

Aliados is currently still available for viewing on-line via the ARTE Live Web site. The opera is sung in English and Spanish, with only French subtitles provided.