Showing posts with label Robin Tritschler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robin Tritschler. Show all posts
Thursday, 28 May 2020
Larcher - Das Jagdgewehr (Bregenz, 2018)
Thomas Larcher - Das Jagdgewehr (Bregenz, 2018)
Bregenzer Festspiele, 2018
Michael Boder, Karl Markovics, Sarah Aristidou, Giulia Peri, Olivia Vermeulen, Robin Tritschler, André Schuen
C-Major - Blu-ray
Ideally the best works of opera should be the ones that achieve a perfect balance between musical expression, dramatic content and delivery of the singing performances, all coordinated by a good director. It's of course by no means obligatory, least of all in a contemporary opera where there isn't the same pressure or even expectation that a work should conform to any preconceived ideas or rules. The balance however can be compensated for however and the right impact achieved through good direction that harmonises with the intent of the piece (assuming it has a specific intent) and in that respect contemporary opera has the advantage of giving the director the opportunity to work hand-in-hand with the composer to make those intentions clear. Thomas Larcher's Das Jagdgewehr (The Hunting Gun), premiered at the 2018 Bregenz Festival, is a fine example of what contemporary opera can achieve when all those elements fall perfectly into place.
All the effort of composition, playing and direction is to little avail of course unless the opera has something meaningful to say and the subject is one that is worth setting to music, a subject that has wider relevance and depth that can reveal different aspects through interpretation and performance. And, rather like the music as well, it helps if it's not just a formal experiment. There is however at least an intriguing formal device in Larcher's opera that is based on a similar device used in the original book by Yasushi Inoue, in that Das Jagdgewehr is based around three letters. The story and the truth within the situation they describe lies within those three different perspectives. Even with four people involved, the three writers of the letter and the person they are addressed to, with a fifth person reading them, there's room for a great deal of interpretation as to where the truth lies.
There's nothing new about this Rashomon-like idea, where even one of the people relating the story in The Hunting Gun is also a dead person whose words live on in a letter, but it does present opportunities and challenges for a composer. Not only is it essential to keep those strands clear and relatable, but the music can also find connections and perhaps even some measure of truth that can be picked up on by the audience, perhaps with the assistance of skillful stage direction to tease those elements out. The structure of the work then is more than just a framing device, as it might have been in the original book, and more than just experimental, but a way of looking beyond the words to discover the true nature of the people involved and perhaps finding something there in the music and the direction.
The person notionally at the centre of the work is the hunter, Josuke Misugi. Although by no means a devotee of literature, the hunter has nonetheless been moved by a verse that he has read in which a poet living nearby seems to have seen him and described him perfectly in a way he could never express. He gives the poet three letters that he has received, asking him to read them and make of them what he will. One of the letters is from his lover Saiko, now dead, the second an accusatory letter from her niece Shoko, and the third from Josuke's wife Midori, who is appears has been aware of her betrayal but has remained silent about it.
On its own terms this story of an illicit affair that has ended badly seems fairly commonplace, and even with the prospect of having to read between the lines of the words of the people involved to determine who is responsible for the tragedy, it doesn't hold out much promise of any great insights or revelations. The difference however is of course that Das Jagdgewehr is an opera and offers considerable extra scope for expression and interpretation on the part of the composer, the director, the singers and for the audience to bring their own impressions and interpretation to it.
Some of the issues and questions that the work considers are expressed in the words and the situation. Who can tell what motivates people to act as they do, particularly in a love affair? In her letter - noting from the outset that she will be dead by the time this letter is read - the mistress Saiko considers egoism, jealousy, destiny and karma all playing a part in what is to follow, some parts perhaps more than others. Midori, the wife, finds the human need to love and to be loved makes humans pathetic, keeping secrets from one another like an impregnable fortress. Despite the apparent simplicity of the situation there are numerous questioning conflicting emotions involved, but Larcher's music holds attention throughout, inviting the audience to actually feel these emotions and engage with the characters and the drama.
Conducted by Michael Boder, Larcher's music comes across as intricate and detailed, lyrical and expressive, measuring out the nuances of meaning and expression contained within the words and the drama, probing the various layers with extraordinary precision. Considering the nature of the subject and the imagery of a hunting gun in the background, there is always with a hint of menace not far beneath the surface of the tensions, but the emotions and situations are more complex than that, with no need to follow Chekhov's dictum to its conclusion. The imagery is poetic and it's presented as such, almost dream-like in the stage direction, exploring another level that lies somewhere in the questioning and overlapping content of the letters, the director Karl Markovics finding the simplest way to open up and give each of these elements room for expression and interpretation.
There's even the additional element of a vocal ensemble - beautiful harmonies from the Schola Heidelberg - that brings emphasis to certain scenes, boosting expression and almost a kind of harmonisation between the divergent conflicting personal viewpoints. All the roles are scored and sung to perfection, Robin Tritschler's Poet a clear and lyrical voice that tries to bring order and rationality to the story, while Sarah Aristidou on the other hand is pure emotion as the niece Shijo, exploring the wild range and stratospheric highs of those emotions incredibly well. Josuke remains an enigma at the centre, hoping that the Poet can explore the depths of his soul, even without knowing him. But there are no answers; just letters, words and human behaviour which refuses to be pinned down, each carrying their own truth like a snake within.
It doesn't surprise me that this opera successfully transferred to Aldeburgh, very much within the idiom of Britten's intense chamber operas, the narrative and emotional complexity and the ominous undercurrents of Death in Venice and The Rape of Lucretia very much coming to mind. If it comes across as a powerful experience, it's undoubtedly assisted by the quality of this recording made at the 2018 Bregenz Festival and the remarkable detail that can be heard in the High Resolution audio tracks. This is a work that pushes the dynamic range in the music and in the voices crystal clear yet fully rounded and resonant. I got the most impact from the LPCM stereo mix on headphones, but you could lose yourself in the equally detailed DTS-HD MA 5.1 surround mix. This is an impressive new opera in a first-class presentation.
Links: Bregenzer Festspiele
Monday, 16 October 2017
O'Dwyer - Eithne (Dublin, 2017)
Robert O'Dwyer - Eithne
Opera Theatre Company, Dublin - 2017
Fergus Sheil, Orla Boylan, Gavan Ring, Robin Tritschler, Brendan Collins, Eamonn Mulhall, Imelda Drumm, John Molloy, Robert McAllister, Rachel Croash, Eoghan Desmond, Fearghal Curtis, Conor Breen
National Concert Hall, Dublin - 14th October 2017
Economies of scale and a troubled political history have prevented the idea of a national opera from ever really being able to establish a foothold in Ireland. It's only recently that steps have been taken to form a national opera company to replace Opera Ireland, one of the arts victims of the economic crisis that struck Ireland almost a decade ago. Irish National Opera doesn't officially come into being until 2018, but in the meantime a few of the component groups that will form the new company have been working hard to keep opera alive in the country. There has been a resurgence in contemporary opera commissions in recent years and now, quite thrillingly, there's been the rediscovery of one of the most important works in the history of Irish opera, Robert O'Dwyer's Eithne.
Eithne has the distinction of being the first full-scale opera composed in the Irish language. It was composed in 1909 by Robert O'Dwyer, who was born in Bristol of Irish parents, and the opera was last performed at the Gaiety theatre in Dublin in 1910. As the fate of Ireland was caught up in the subsequent years with the War of Independence and the Irish Civil War, O'Dwyer's Irish language opera was lost and only rediscovered when the orchestral score came up for auction in 2012. It was an occasion of some national pride then to have the opera - unheard for over 100 years - reconstructed, revived and performed once again in 2017 by the Opera Theatre Company. While Eithne is no lost masterpiece, it is nonetheless an important and even an impressive work, and it certainly impressed the audience who came to see in a one-off concert performance at the National Concert Hall in Dublin.
An unheard work by an unheard of composer, it was difficult to imagine beforehand what to expect from Eithne and just how it was going to sound. The period of composition and the subject based on Celtic mythology however gave a few important clues and indeed the few on-line rehearsal clips posted in advance suggested a lush post-Wagnerian romanticism. In the event, there is little that is Wagnerian or even Straussian in Eithne's scale or ambition, and the music itself isn't particularly Celtic sounding, although there is a fairy-tale element to the harp music and a folk element in some of the solo violin playing. It's the rhythms and sounds of the Irish language however that provides a more recognisable character for the folk legend of Eithne, aligning it more closely to Dvořák and the fairy-tale romantic character of Rusalka.
There is a recognisable connection with Die Zauberflote and Siegfried and a romantic element too in the heroic endeavours of Ceart to become the High King of Ireland. Based on the legend of Éan an cheoil bhinn (The bird of sweet music), the Irish language libretto for Eithne was composed by the noted academic and playwright Tomás Ó Ceallaigh. In the first half of the opera, characterised by rousing choral music, Ceart is unanimously acclaimed by the people to be the successor to the High King, but his half-brothers Neart and Art conspire against him, claiming that he is responsible for the killing of the king's favourite hound. Nuala, who has brought Ceart up since the death of his mother, intervenes on his behalf and, evoking the songs of the birds when she speaks, she convinces the King of the truth and inspires him even to forgive Neart and Art.
The bird's song is heard again in the second half of the opera, and it leads the King away from the hunt. Surrounded by maidens, Eithne appears and tells of her fate, that she and her mother (Nuala) have been held captive in a spell by her father the King of Tír na nÓg (the legendary Land of Youth in Irish folklore). Ceart steps forward to challenge the Guardian Spirit of Tír na nÓg and beating him he acquires a magical ring, sword and cloak that will help him defeat the King. In order to break the spell however, Ceart has other challenges to face and, proving his worth as a warrior, as a worthy husband for Eithne and, as the death of his father is announced, as the High King of Ireland.
Evidently, there's enough magic and drama in Eithne for it to be a fine stage spectacle, and perhaps one day we might get the opportunity to see it that way, but this first and only presentation of Robert O'Dwyer's rediscovered work was presented to the Dublin audience in concert performance, where it was recorded for a future CD release. Even in concert performance, this was an impressive way to experience the opera, as it gave great opportunity not only to hear the individual singers but the work of the large chorus - so prominent through - and the terrific playing of the RTÉ National Symphony Orchestra conducted by Fergus Sheil, giving the lush melodic musical qualities of the work central stage.
Despite the title of the opera being granted to Eithne, who only makes an appearance late in the opera, it was Robin Tritschler's Ceart who was unquestionably the star performance of the night. The tenor has a beautifully light lyrical tone that is reminiscent of Klaus Florian Vogt in one or two places but with a little more 'body'. A virtuous, heroic tone is required for Ceart - if not quite of the Heldentenor variety - and Tritschler delivered that in abundance. The role of Eithne has challenges, but not perhaps of the Wagnerian level either, and I thought Orla Boylan (who I last saw singing the big role of Turandot) was a little too large a voice for the role in that respect, and there was some wavering as she tried to fit to the lyrical flow. Boylan however certainly carried the romantic heroism of the role with all the essential Irish qualities that are necessary there in her voice.
There were other impressive performances in Irish-singing cast. John Molloy's smooth baritone boomed imperiously as the rumbling Giant, the Guardian Spirit of Tír na nÓg. Nuala too has a substantial presence in the first act, and singing along to the flute birdsong accompaniment, Imelda Drumm was absolutely captivating. Gavan Ring, who was instrumental in bringing Eithne back to the stage, sang the role of the High King of Ireland wonderfully and in full possession of the elevated status of the role. The heightened Irish legend qualities were boosted considerably by the chorus of the Opera Theatre Company, bringing the audience to its feet at the opera's epic conclusion. It now seems that Irish national opera not only as a future, but it now has a glorious past history to look back on as well.
Links: Opera Theatre Company, Irish National Opera, RTE webcast
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)