Doves, Ghosts, Defiance and Longing; Gurre-lieder Succeeds in Berlin

"Weit flog ich," sang mezzo-soprano Karen Cargill as the wood dove. "Klage sucht' ich, fand gar viel! (Far did I fly, and seeking grief have found much!)" This refrain from the close of Part I of Arnold Schoenberg's massive Gurre-lieder remained in the ear, in an impressive performance by the Berliner Philharmoniker that was transmitted over the Digital Concert Hall.

Simon Rattle, whose 2002 recording of this work is already a classic, led a detailed accounting of this elemental early work by Schoenberg that will become a jewel in concert archive associated with the digital concert hall.

Rattle was assisted by a solid collection of vocalists led by the American tenor Stephen Gould as Waldemar, who navigated the extremes within this part but also lingered over pleasing colors and shades. He worked well with soprano Soile Isokoski as Tove, and even though the two never sang at the same time there seemed to be a believable connection between them.

The complexities within this orchestral score are legendary. The presentation given by the cameras favored the vocalists, but often provided important angles that helped clarify unusual orchestral textures. The one place we could have used a better look was during that evocative high B written for piccolo in the "Sommerwindes wilde Jagd." Schoenberg wanted that sound to be pianissimo and it almost never can be. The sound in this performance was fabulous! It seemed like a specially constructed whistle of some sort, and it held interest throughout the passage and somehow blended with each of the other instruments that spoke during that scene.

This is a work that begins in the haze of late romanticism, but transitions within itself to end leaning into modernism. This performance made the shifting styles sensible. "Herr Gänsefuß, Frau Gänsekraut" was a significant moment in this transition. The great Thomas Quasthoff was engaging in this melodramatic role. He articulated its rhythms with clarity and found an engaging middle ground between singing and speaking. Several times he created thrilling moments in sustained voice.

If you missed the live transmission, make sure you see the sunrise music. The orchestra has been celebrating the fiftieth anniversary of the construction of the concert hall, and here is an opportunity to see how well the hall holds and focuses massive forces. But beyond that, it was a celebration of the process by which a concert of music this rare and delicious can be shared, live, to a global audience.

Two Kisses and a Shake; a review of Eugene Onegin from Met Live in HD

Scene from Act III

Unexpectedly the music stopped. We were only nine measures from the final curtain of the performance. But the music stopped. Anna Netrebko, who was Tatiana, had started to leave the stage. But like the music, she also stopped. She returned, moving quickly toward Mariusz Kwiecien as Onegin. She planted an extended, passionate kiss with a sexual energy rarely expressed in operatic kisses.

Let’s just say it was a most memorable inverted augmented sixth.

Kwiecien sang a C major triad unaccompanied and the music resolved into E minor as the curtain fell. The chord was not the only thing that was inverted. The kiss itself was an inversion of a kiss that Onegin gave, just as unexpectedly, to Tatiana in Act I scene 3 (which is often called the “sermon” scene).

This new production by Deborah Warner and directed by Fiona Shaw gathered momentum as it progressed.

It was described as “among the roster of also-rans,” and also as “drab,” and “dingy” by Tommasini on opening night. The set did not seem that way in HD. But nonetheless, I had a hard time connecting with the first scene.

Secondary roles and seemingly insignificant moments take on a primary importance in scene, and the secondary vocal roles were bland at best. Elena Zaremba wobbled too much in pitch as Madame Larina, and Oksana Volkova made little impression as Olga. The “Chorus and Dance of the Peasants” was contrived and acrobatic and it distracted from the rustic attraction that this music can generate.

I was pleasantly surprised by Netrebko. She turned all of her energy inward, and her Tatiana seemed preoccupied by art and by the world of the imagination and not simply shy. The letter scene became an externalization of this quality and did not seem like a contradiction in personality.

The HD camera work was effective, but did delay in going to “wide-shot” at the Onegin’s exit in Act I scene III, and we missed the infamous “apple bite” that has become the subject of commentary from Margaret Juntwait on recent Sirius FM Met broadcasts. Apparently, the attitude with which he took a bite from an apple in making his exit

Piotr Beczala's Lenski also took some time to make its mark. His character never seemed believable as a poet, but his singing was always of interest. In his Act II scene 2 aria everything came together. (The forest set was evocative-- and we watched the fallen tree get assembled during the scene break). Like Tatiana, Lenski's energy was also inward, and the similarity in these two characters was articulated very directly.

Onegin and Lenski shook hands in this production before the duel began. It was a gesture that was given a close up on the HD cameras. The shake was a symbol of friendship gone wrong.

While it took longer to gather its forces than the 1997 Carsen production, this new production did have insights and was very worth hearing.

Rattle and Berliner Philharmoniker; Concert in Answer to a Finch

In the second song of the "Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen," the merry finch calls out to the singer; "Wird's nicht eine schöne Welt?" Simon Rattle returned to the digital concert hall conducting a program with the Berliner Philharmoniker that was a significant effort and came across with thrilling energy. Each work on the program gave its own distinct answer to that Finch.

The program began with the Symphony No. 2 by Witold Lutosławski. Too often orchestras go into auto-pilot when they play works that require ad libitum playing. The Berliner Philharmoniker brought out beautiful detail in the succession of textures that comprise this work.

The first movement, marked "Hésitant," is built from a succession of episodes and refrains. Each refrain is scored for a trio of double reeds, and the succession if intervallic profiles in these sections was as audible and organized as the sequence of timbral colors in its schematic form. Rattle gave a quick and powerful cue for the fifth episode, which set the proper attitude for this passage scored for piano harp and celesta. These details helped shape the flow of the work.

There is a central moment close to the end of the second movement when the conductor is asked, for the first time in the symphony, to beat time in the traditional manner. The cameras missed the opportunity to showcase this moment during the five-and-a-half measures of string playing that marks the onset of this new motion, but caught the motion in its second occurrence. Rattle and the orchestra made the pulsing impact of this coordinated music feel devastating. It sounded like all possible dances happening at once.

Baritone Christian Gerhaher joined the orchestra as soloist in Mahler's "Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen." The sound of this work after Lutosławski was a bittersweet re-entry into the world of the 19th century. Gerhaher sang the work with highly personal, direct and heart breaking expression. the music glowed from the heat generated earlier on the program, and seemed an unspoken undercurrent of the symphony.

After intermission, soloists Luba Orgonášová, Mihoko Fujimura, and Stuart Skelton, joined Gerhaher who returned to sing the bass solo, the wonderful Czech Philharmonic Choir of Brno, and organist Christian Schmitt, joined the orchestra for the Glagolitic Mass by Janáček.

Still thinking about the opening of the Lutosławski symphony, I was awaiting the connection to it made by the trumpet music that starts the Úvod. I am aware of the research that places an Intrada derived from the Exodus before the Úvod in order to create a symmetrical structure. The Intrada does not connect in the way I had hoped.

Still, the sense of symmetry within the Mass that it created was convincing, especially in the extended symphonic interlude in the Credo movement. The interaction of the clarinet trio with the cello/viola line was memorable. The extensive brass and timpani writing were played with groove. It was a celebration in bright pastels. 

Shilkloper and Wallendorf open a new season of Horn Hangouts

 This month marks the one-year anniversary of Horn Hangouts!

Sarah Willis has succeeded in making these live chats a forum and educational opportunity for the horn community, but also a welcoming and engaging place for musicians and music lovers with broader  interests.

Sarah's website lists 21 musicians who are scheduled for this season,  with an amazing roster of brass players, but also including many other musicians, like esteemed baritone Thomas Hampson, and conductors Daniel Harding and Paavo Järvi.

On Monday the new season opens by "hanging out" with Arkady Shilkloper. The event begins at 3pm EST (9pm Berlin, and 5am on the 10th for the dedicated Australian following this series has won).

Shilkloper has a pioneer spirit. You are only a few searches away from hearing him improvise with jazzers, or play alphorn for an amazed gathering in Australia. In this clip from Russian television called "Duet for One," he hums a theme while playing fast figural variations at the same time.



On Tuesday, Sarah will interview her colleague Klaus Wallendorf. Wallendorf is articulate and witty. He has a unique and lively personality, and is also a brilliant musician and gifted composer and arranger. It is almost unfair. Here is a very representative clip of Sarah and him:

 

I have never tried chess without dice but wonder if it is anything like craps without rooks.

Don't miss Wallendorf. The interview will be 9am EST (3pm Berlin, and 11pm in Australia).