Mitchell - Riot Symphony (Belfast, 2024)

Conor Mitchell - Riot Symphony

Ulster Orchestra, 2004

Andrew Gourlay, Gavin Peden, Rebecca Murphy, Michael Bell

Ulster Hall - 10 May 2024

With his latest work Riot Symphony again blurring the lines between symphony, opera and punk rock, Conor Mitchell continues to prove to be one of the most vital and uncategorisable of contemporary composers in Northern Ireland. With his Belfast Ensemble he has produced works that incorporate a range of disciplines, from theatre, video multimedia pieces, musicals, operas and, previously with the Ulster Orchestra, even a mass. Although very much a contemporary classical composer with an orchestra his main instrument, there is anti-establishment attitude to his work, primarily because he finds inspiration in current political events, in societal issues and in current affairs. He can be at his most 'punk' in an opera like Abomination and the same attitude can be found in his most recent collaboration with dramatist and librettist, Mark Ravenhill, the opera triptych The Headless Soldier.

You might think that Mitchell would ease up on that outspoken spirit of confronting controversial and sometimes even taboo subjects when composing a new symphony for the current Ulster Orchestra season, but no, on the contrary, the 50 minute work may even be his most expansive and accomplished work to date. Fearlessly (and somewhat suitably) squeezing in between a John Williams Star Wars concert and Mahler's 2nd Symphony 'Resurrection' in the season programme, Mitchell produces a work that is as much popular spectacle as heartfelt exploration of personal concerns, incorporating video projection, operatic singing, a libretto based on the writings of Sophie Scholl and a punk anthem by Pussy Riot, with echoes of the Ukrainian national anthem and condemnation of Vladimir Putin. Throw in the Mulholland Grand Organ, installed in the Ulster Hall in 1861, and this is going to be a riot; a Riot Symphony.

In a pre-performance discussion with Ulster Orchestra artistic director Patrick McCarthy, the music writer Stuart Bailie and Alanah Smyth from the Belfast punk band Problem Patterns, there was an interesting discussion on the history of politically leaning folk and punk music and its importance for the province, but little recognition of classical music playing any significant role. Mitchell however made a good case for the fact that classical music continued to be performed at the Ulster Hall during the Troubles as a courageous act of defiance in itself. Music can also be a necessary haven from the world outside, and the Ulster Orchestra kept the flame of art and culture alive through social and political unrest, bombings, shooting and riots on the nearby streets.

He made an even more compelling case for it in his Riot Symphony. It may have referenced Russia, Putin, Ukraine and the protests against totalitarian rule by Pussy Riot in the video montage and in the music itself, but this was a universal hymn to the right to protest at a time when the UK Conservative government, with the approval and complicity of the Labour Party, are enacting laws to restrict the right to peaceful protest. Mitchell is lucky he wasn't arrested after the show at the Ulster Hall, as it could be seen as incitement to riot, or at the very least in some of those louder dissonant passages of the symphony, as a disturbance of the peace.

In truth, the Riot Symphony is a dynamic and highly moving experience. The composer admittedly relies on a simple rhythmic pattern as the basis of the piece, but he makes every possible use of the orchestral resources of the Ulster Orchestra and the occasion to present this work to the regular Friday evening Ulster Hall audience, to extend those musical and thematic ideas as widely as possible. As the opening musical salvo started to settle after assaulting the eyes with demonic images of Putin, the anticipation generated of the soprano rising to challenge him using the words of Sophie Scholl's White Rose Movement pamphlets was tangible. It didn't disappoint or fail to do musical justice and bring deep emotional and humanistic force to the words, stunningly delivered by Rebecca Murphy. The manifesto is taken up by her "brother", also executed by the Nazis, tenor Michael Bell urging people not to accept corrupt governance, but that a better world was possible. The way the singing performances opened up the work is impressive and incredibly moving.

The bravery of voicing such sentiments is borne out in the following movement or section that feels like a lament for Sophie Scholl, but also for other inspirational voices of protest, the video sequence showing Sinéad O’Connor's famous rejection of the oppression of the Catholic church in her ripping up of a picture of the Pope on a television performance, the astonishing image of the protester standing in front of the tanks rolling into Tiananmen Square, in the protests of the Civil Rights movement. It's deeply moving, not just for the familiar images, but for what the music expresses in that moment and in what has led up to it. The final movement set against video footage of Pussy Riot being arrested in Moscow for "hooliganism" performing a protest song against Putin in a cathedral, uses musical references to their song 'Putin Lights Up The Fires', closing the work with imagery and a musical salvo that can't but leave a deep impression.

More than just seek to be controversial and provocative, Conor Mitchell has demonstrably been a progressive force in the local music scene in the classical world, keen to reach out and engage with all kinds of audiences, encouraging reflection on the state of the world today and the forces that try to restrict or repress freedom of expression, whether that's political leaders, religious leaders or even the restraints of family. He has also used video projection to enhance the musical expression on a similar theme in a shorter piece Lunaria, but this is a triumph on another scale. The Riot Symphony may be his most important work yet, because it's more than a protest, it's about the right to protest and even the necessity to protest. It's almost a credo for the whole body of Mitchell's work as an artist.

It's all the more remarkable then that one of the most outspoken, challenging and provocative voices in the world of the Northern Ireland music scene comes from the world of contemporary classical music, but Conor Mitchell clearly sees no distinction and will use whatever means necessary - opera, theatre, musical theatre, mass, symphony - without prejudice or distinction, using whatever musical language and in a blending of art forms that will permit the work and its message to reach the widest possible audience. Mitchell has extended his personal reach with Riot Symphony, a work that will undoubtedly be considered a major work that occupies a significant place in the musical history of Northern Ireland, but it has an important message that will hopefully see it performed more widely and have greater meaning for audiences worldwide.

External links: Ulster Orchestra

Deutscher - Cinderella (Wexford, 2022)

Alma Deutscher - Cinderella (Wexford, 2022)

Wexford Festival Opera, 2022

Andrew Synnott, Davide Gasparro, Megan O’Neill, Corina Ignat, Leah Redmond, Sarah Luttrell, Michael Bell, Peter Lidbetter, Deirdre Arratoon, Peter McCamley, Eoin Foran, William Kyle

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House, Wexford - 4th November 2022

It probably shouldn't have come as a surprise considering the quality of the Pocket Opera elements of the Festival (Cellier's The Spectre Knight and Caruso's The Master), but I was impressed with another work that was not 'mainstage' - although it was performed in the main O'Reilly Theatre to a large audience - but part of the Wexford Factory development programme for new talent. Fairy tale operas aren't often the vehicle for greatness, although in the case of Cinderella Rossini and Massenet produced some of their best work with La Cenerentola and Cendrillon, not to mention Mozart's own fairy tale opera The Magic Flute to attest to what can be done in the field by a composer of extraordinary talent, and Alma Deutscher leans towards the latter in this youth work.

Composed at the age of 11, the was no concern about the quality of Deutscher's first opera; it's not as if her Cinderella would be performed in Vienna, Salzburg and indeed Wexford if it wasn't of a high standard, but I was very pleasantly surprised nonetheless by just how accomplished this opera was in musical character and in terms of doing something original with the concept. It's probably indeed her youth, Deutscher drawing from her own nature and character, from her experience and dreams (and talent), that allow her to put a fresh and meaningful spin on the Cinderella story. A fairy tale or a fairy tale opera is nothing without a message, and being young, it's a hopeful, optimistic and uplifting one.

Using what she knows then, Deutscher's version very cleverly couches the story within the world of musical creativity. Her Cinderella is a young composer, given drudgery tasks like copying scores by her stepmother for her two aspiring diva stepsisters to sing. Nonetheless her head is filled with melodies that take shape when she is given a book of poetry by an old lady she helps in the woods. The poetry has been written by the Prince, who handed it over to the woman looking for fuel to heat herself, assuming that he had no further need for them himself. Unusually, the Prince even has motivation in this version, being forced by his father to find a wife and carry on the family line, leaving him no more time for such frivolity.

Aside from the clever idea of matching the words of music to poetry - a much more convincing twist on a shoe fitting just one person as a way of finding the love match, although it doesn't totally reject this convention either - it's a tremendous way to celebrate the magic of opera, of art, creativity and imagination combining to generate something magical, something that has the potential to lift you out of everyday life. The music and English libretto fully live up to this ambition with witty situations and spins on the original, all beautifully arranged and melodic in chamber orchestra form. There's a lot of waltz-time music, light, happy music and romantic music; it's just a joy.

The singing was exceptionally good across every role, particularly from the two leads. The romantic leads can sometimes appear a little bland in fairy take works - even in The Magic Flute - but Cinderella and the Prince have a little more personality and character here and that was brought out with with lovely singing from Megan O’Neill and Michael Bell. Leah Redmond and Sarah Luttrell have plenty of fun with the stepsisters Griselda and Zibaldona - of course - but were almost outdone in the comic stakes by Peter Lidbetter as the King and Peter McCamley in a non-singing role as the Royal Minister. Corina Ignat as the stepmother and Deirdre Arratoon as the old lady/fairy took the remaining roles in this well-cast performance perfectly.

Cinderella is simply a charming opera and it was charmingly directed and performed. Davide Gasparro took a chance on placing it all within the context of a dream rather than a straight fairy tale, but that helped overcome the number of slightly sickly and overlong happy-ever-after scenes, the only real weakness in the opera. A little touch of realism was needed here. Or, depending on what you want from an opera, maybe not. Either way, there was a wonderful lightness of touch to the humour and the comic situations elsewhere and it fitted well with Eleonora Rossi's creative use of an all-purpose bed/stage. In every aspect, from creation to performance, this Wexford Factory production fully merited a place on the main opera stage of the National Opera House.

That lightness of touch was employed also in the musical direction of Andrew Synnott with the chamber orchestra arrangements. Synnott - who has had his own opera work performed at Wexford in recent years (Dubliners, La Cucina) - again making a strong contribution here and elsewhere in the vital choral management of the mainstage operas during the Festival. Everything was kept simple, every note and gesture aiming to engage and entertain. There was some lovely comic interplay, the witty dialogue was delivered well, every character made an impression. If the intention was to demonstrate the power and the beauty of opera through the marriage of music and words, Cinderella made a convincing case for itself.

Links: Wexford Festival Opera

Purcell - King Arthur (Sestina - Belfast 2014)

Henry Purcell - King Arthur

Sestina, Belfast, 2014

Mark Chambers, Thomas Guthrie, Sinead O'Kelly, Aaron O'Hare, Michael Bell, Emer Acton, Caroline Jones, Brian McAlea, Fiona Flynn, Matthew Keighley, Laura Lamph, David Lee, Laura McFall, Joseph Zubier, David Walsh, Michael Hong

Ulster Museum, Belfast - 25 April 2014

Putting on a performance of an opera that is over 300 years old presents a number of challenges for any company, so the achievement of Sestina's quite stunning one-off Belfast performance of Purcell's King Arthur is all the more impressive. Created by Paul McCreesh and led by Mark Chambers, Sestina's aim is to train and give experience to young singers on historically informed productions of Baroque music. There's surely no better way to test and display the qualities of young voices working in harmony than to set them to a piece by Monteverdi or Purcell.

No better way, but a challenging one nonetheless. To set and exposing a voice like a jewel in a crown as these works do, there needs to be considerable thought given over to the nature of the work itself and finding the best means of presenting it to a modern audience. Purcell's music provides the most glorious opportunities for the voice, but a work like King Arthur, a 'dramatick opera' or semi-opera written by the composer in 1791, comes with a great deal of historical baggage and period conventions that could be confusing to a present-day audience. A way must be found to modernise the work without destroying the integrity of the work and its arrangements.

In the case of King Arthur, John Dryden's drama (as a semi-opera, the work is essentially a drama with music and songs) was written as a patriotic call-to-arms and a celebration of the commercial productivity of the British Isles. As such it is tied up very much with the sentiments of the day, originally intended to celebrate the royal court, but eventually reworked to inspire, rouse and entertain a paying public. This has the benefit then, as far as Sestina and the general public of today are concerned, of being filled with all the variety and richness of Purcell's writing and experience, making it still very much a thrilling and engaging piece of music, if not quite so accessible as a drama.

How then do you retain that vibrancy and retain a meaningful context for King Arthur without it being buried in the obscure language and historical references of Dryden's drama? Thomas Guthrie's production finds an almost ideal solution, and one that is of particular topical interest on the occasion of its centenary year, in the trenches of the Great War. It's hard to visualise how the battles between the Britons and Saxons might have played out, or indeed really take-in Dryden and Purcell's allegories for their time, but the war in the trenches brings with it a more relatable sense of the savagery and horrors of traditional warfare. It also provides a wider perspective on human nature with considerable resonance for how it affected the ordinary people who fought in it and the profound impact it had back home on British society.

Guthrie's setting doesn't follow any straightforward narrative that mirrors Dryden's dramatic line, but it manages to fit in very well with the sentiments expressed in the songs that are the true heart of Purcell's King Arthur. Using reference works ('In Parenthesis' by David Jones) and original letters from soldiers on the front-line, Sestina's production presents an informed view of the war from the perspective of three couples in a way that covers the full richness and variety of Purcell's writing. One of the couples is a Major and his wife, the other is a Private and his young bride, while the third offers a necessarily more abstract and all-encompassing view of the situation on the front by using dancers to portray a soldier and a nurse.

This works wonderfully, capturing the very real sentiments expressed in the music and in the words of the libretto, from the necessity of building up one's courage to face unknown dangers and horrors, to the physical agony endured in extreme conditions during war. It opens this up to deal with the pain felt by ordinary people - on the front and at home - separated from and in many cases losing the ones they love. Even in the best of times, in moments of shared friendship, companionship, love and small victories, those feelings have a fragile hold and are tempered by the greater reality, and this is expressed simply, beautifully and touchingly in the gorgeous arrangements and in the singing.

At times, the match to the original work is very well achieved. The troops here are not laid astray on the battlefield by Sirens of mythology, but by the shock of bombardment and the terror of very real night-time horrors, yet even here, they are able to relate this to WWI supernatural legends like the Angel of Mons. Scenes too such as the famous Frost Scene also take on a suitably harrowing aspect as snow falls on the battlefields, but considerable attention is clearly paid elsewhere to how the instruments work specifically with the voices to create nuance of mood. There's some wonderful work from Sestina here, using period instruments, particularly with Paula Chateauneuf on Archlute, David Adams on harpsichord and Jonny Byers on cello, holding down the all-important basso continuo.

Every note rang out true within the acoustic of the open high ceiling of the atrium of the Ulster Museum. The fact that there was considerable reverb was evident when a solo voice was singing, enhancing the choral work and the ensemble playing, but also revealing the incredible beauty of each instrument as well as the beautiful timbre and harmonising of the voices. Thomas Guthrie performed as narrator and sung with a fine tenor voice as Private Bell, but the purity of tone of the young singers was astonishing and perfectly suited to the nature of the work. Aaron O'Hare's delicate soft baritone brought added poignancy to a fallen soldier in the first half of the performance while Sinéad O'Kelly's soaring soprano mustered up the strength of soldiers and chorus through the rousing drinking-songs in the post-interval section. The harmonised singing of Emer Acton and Caroline Jones was also breathtakingly good, but typical of the superb management and coaching of voices across the board here.

The voices and how they interact and harmonise with the musical instruments is of vital importance then, and that's managed extremely well by musical director Mark Chambers. In such a work, where improvisation and interpretation plays no small part, he has to be constantly alert to mood and situation and ensure that it comes together as it should, and that includes reacting to the unusual acoustics of the venue. The unconventional location also presented some difficulties for seating placement and enabling stage entrances and exits, but it proved to be a beautifully intimate setting that not only allowed the audience the opportunity to experience the beauty of a small Baroque orchestra, but to feel genuinely engaged in the experience.