Showing posts with label south bank centre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label south bank centre. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 May 2016

The Magic Flute: Budapest Festival Orchestra and Iván Fischer ☆☆☆☆

Last night saw the fabulous Budapest Festival Orchestra and its characterful conductor, Iván Fischer present The Magic Flute at the Royal Festival Hall. The evening was an enjoyable one, and the 'staged concert', the maestro had called it, brought to light what can – really - be recreated at the Royal Festival Hall. Most operas and concerts at the Royal Festival Hall involve soloists with scores read from a music stand and the orchestra behind them, yet this event was a special one - a proper stage for Mozart's action to take place, with the orchestra delightfully performing below in the pit.

The Budapest Festival Orchestra, known as one of the top orchestras in the world and winner of various accolades (including New York Magazine's 2013 list of the city's top classical music events and numerous Gramophone Awards for their orchestral albums), is currently on an international tour amid funding cuts decided by its city's General Assembly - cuts from 260 million forints (US$938,000) to 60 million forints (US$217,000). That being said, the performance last night proved how solid and defiant the orchestra and its maestro were at such a crucial time; only last Saturday they protested in Vörösmarty Square, central Budapest.

Last night, Fischer displayed his inner child as both conductor and director of the production, with singspiel successfully presented by English actors, (though I must admit, I wasn’t privy to this and thought Mr. Fischer actually needed real audience members to play a role in the opera. Damn it!) Originally performed in German as Mozart’s librettist Emanuel Schikaneder wrote it in the 18th century, Fischer had adults, teenagers, and children enjoy an evening of German singing and English dialogue, with large visual projections of pages plucked out of a children’s storybook.

This crafty technique meant fewer issues with moving around props or set designs, which hardly happens at the Royal Festival Hall, and, therefore, more visual stimulation and absorbing imagery for the audience. Actors and singers worked in sync with one another – Scott Brooksbank would translate the words and feelings of Tamino just before Bernard Richter projected Tamino’s deeper emotions and love for Pamina with his beautiful voice. The same can be said for actor, Bart Van Der Schaaf who’d bring the English crowd back to London, out of the dream-like fantasy, as lonely bird-catcher, Papageno. He released some light humour here and there, which was tidied up by bass-baritone Hanno Müller-Brachmann’s impressive voice.

The conceptual and creative imagery deserve attention too. Much scholarship has been invested into the hidden meanings in Mozart’s ‘grand opera’, most of which has alluded to the overtly Masonic nature of the piece, coinciding with 18th century Enlightenment, and in this production images of the sun and moon were prominent throughout. Though the opera is perfectly accessible for children, there are elements of opera-seria cleverly implemented with the symbolism of the Queen of Night, which was performed by Mandy Fredrich last night. Her voice hit the royal high-Fs but, from my rear stalls, it would have been nice to hear her sing a little louder, otherwise she gave a good enough performance of ‘Der Hölle Rache’, which kept the younger audiences happy. Particularly memorable was Hanna-Elisabeth Müller as the captured princess, Pamina. She has a distinctive colouring and sung with particular control and composure, which made her voice shine in ‘Ach Ich fühl’s’.


Krisztián Cser, Norma Nahoun and Rodolphe Briand gave confident and reassuring performances as Sarastro, Papagena and Monostatos. The three ladies in purple and blue wigs, sung by Eleonore Marguerre, Olivia Vermeulen, Barbara Kozelj also gave brilliant performances. And not forgetting the three boys, also dressed up as little lions, from The Hungarian State Opera Children’s Choir. They were squeaky clean on stage, and a delight to see and hear.

There were some unique moments to remember including an English speaking, and older version of, Papagena attempting to communicate with a German speaking Papageno, desperately trying to wake up his English counterpart. And towards the very end, when Papagena and Papageno come together to sing their duet, ‘Pa Pa Pa Pa, their puppy love is expressed by mushy imagery of children sprouting in the background. Yet mushy pantomime aside, Fischer seemed excited and pleased to be performing this night. The Budapest Festival Orchestra performed with flair yet they weren’t on fire - they honed in their enthusiasm enough to perform the opera in a light-hearted and leisurely pace. That’s not to say the opera was slow, but indeed, a playful and fun production, safe enough for children. Yet, it would have been nice had Papageno been a little bit wittier with his jokes - nevertheless a fun night at the staged concert. 

For information on classical events at the Southbank, click here http://www.southbankcentre.co.uk/.

For more about the Budapest Festival Orchestra, click here http://www.bfz.hu/.


Friday, 29 January 2016

Soile Isokoski sings Strauss's Four Last Songs, Royal Festival Hall

[January 23rd, 2016]
Richard Strauss's Four Last Songs (Vier letzte lieder) was performed by Finnish lyric Soprano and leider singer, Soile Isokoski and the London Philharmonic Orchestra (LPO) and, indeed, it was beautiful but that's not surprising considering Isokoski is no stranger to the work of Strauss. This was even more evident during her performance as she sang with her eyes closed (to some sections of the piece), calmly and passionately to the German seasons. Each song had its own heartfelt temperament with the music embedded with a diverse range of emotions felt by the composer himself when he wrote it. For Isokoski though, some moments seemed louder than others, but she was still in her comfort zone and gave a performance that did not disappoint.

The LPO didn't fail either as they offered a refreshing performance to the Royal Festival Hall audience. LPO conductor Vladimir Jurowski went straight in with 'Frühling', bringing life to nature's changing leaves through the characteristic score which led onto 'September'. Here radiant strings and mighty horn-playing took full force while the audience immersed themselves to Isokoski's high reaching notes alongside the romantic music, filled with pathos and nostalgia.

The night was accompanied by three other pieces: Mozart's D-major Notturno, Magnus Lindberg's Gran Duo and Mozart's C-minor Serenade (K388). Although they seem like contrasting pieces on face value, after hearing them (one after the other) it's easy to see why the programme has brought these pieces together as the music have some audible similarities.

For the Mozart piece, Jurowski had the LPO divided into four small orchestras which was slightly unorthodox but intriguing nonetheless. There were two at the front by the choir area and two at both sides of the exits, which acted as an echo for the first two. It was definitely an experience having to move heads and eyes around for the auditorium for this piece. The opening movement was harmonious, graceful and easy to follow, but the best was saved for the last through the delicate sounds of the final Minuet and Trio where the LPO turned it up a notch. It almost seemed like a merry march had began to enter the auditorium.

Yet the piece is rather long and can be repetitive which is typical of  Mozart's music but the performance was an interesting and hearty one. This was also the case for the LPO's performance of Serenade, which was slow, clear and elegant. The finale, however, was, perhaps, the fun part of the piece, which had the LPO breaking into sweat (I'm sure) with an enthusiastic conclusion from the percussionists, ending with a loud but welcomed climax.

Lindberg's piece first premiered in Birmingham in 2000 under maestro Rattle, and it is a stylish score written for thirteen woodwinds and eleven brass instruments. There's a terrain of sounds layering over one another, which made this an intense listen for the audience but the LPO gave it their best shot, which turned out to be a success as Lindberg stepped onto the stage to congratulate them and Jurowski.


For more information on other concerts at the Royal Festival Hall, please click here. Or here for information on the London Philharmonic Orchestra.




trendfem.blogspot.com/2014/11/lesmartyrs-operarara-theoae.html

Review of Bluebeard's Castle by the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra. (2015)
http://trendfem.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/bartok-duke-bluebeards-castle-royal-philharmonic-orchestra.html

Tuesday, 27 January 2015

Bartók: Duke Bluebeard's Castle - A Horror Opera (Royal Philharmonic Orchestra & Charles Dutoit)

 Sir Willard White
Ildikó Komlósi





















I hadn’t come across Béla Bartók before tonight’s performance of his opera Duke Bluebeard’s Castle at the Royal Festival Hall. It was only until the opera began that I realised I was about to experience my first horror opera. 

The orchestra of the night was the dazzling Royal Philharmonic. They shone and soared through Bartók’s multifaceted masterpiece with maestro Charles Dutoit conducting and revealing the dark hues of Bartók's insidious work.
 

It was fairly recent news that Andrea Meláth and Bálint Szabó could not sing the roles of the Duke or Judith due to illness. Yet unexpected replacements Ildikó Komlósi and Sir Willard White, both on top form, saved the show.
 

Charles Dutoit
Komlósi took audiences in and out of Judith’s curious mind and bewitched them with her vocal talent as, both a worrisome woman and passive wife. Sir White elicited traits of a dangerous man from the moment he sang the first note, an inclusion deliberately added by Bartók to enrich his phenomenal score.
 

Despite only being  an hour long, the opera contains some of the most chilling and spine-tingling music you could heard from psychological thrillers, ‘scary’ movies and film noir. Sitting there in the Royal  Festival Hall I recognised similar musical extracts, and had the same reactions, to listening to Strauss’ Sprach Zarathustra, Ridley Scott ‘s Aliens’ films (with scores composed by Jerry Goldsmith) and Bernard Herrmann’s Psycho. 


Judith's Journey in Bluebeard's Castle 

The opera is based on a Duke who introduces his wife to a castle of seven locked doors, spilling blood. It’s too gruesome not to pique anyone’s interest. Mention ‘torture chamber’ and many will realise it isn’t a typical romantic opera.  

For the evening’s semi-staged performance audiences were left to use their imagination through reading Christopher Hassall’s translation of Béla Balázs’s original libretto and allowing Bartók’s musical creativity to guide them on Judith’s steps of opening each blood-soaked door. 

An audio effect was used to enhance the ominous quagmire of terror and dread. It was the sound of air blowing through the hollow and mysterious castle that the Duke and his wife were walking in.  


Each door unlocked a different type of space: the intense stir of strings for a menacing torture chamber in door one; a room of armoury for door two; a treasure room, depicted by a light tinkering sounds from a celesta, for door three; and a fragrant garden, illustrated by discordant flutes, for room four. 


Yet the pinnacle orchestral moments took place when Judith made her way into the fifth door, screaming. The long chords from the Royal Festival Hall’s large organ, shown off by Andrew Lucas, echoed entry into another realm – a next level up of macabre. One soon became concerned, and afraid, for Judith’s life.  


As we moved onto room six blaring brass instruments and hard thuds of timpani increased the dramatic suspense. The inquisitive wife enters door number six, a lake of tears, represented by gentle glissandi from a harp. But it’s too late for any hope of a happier ending. Not even the harp could transform the outcome. 
 

The conclusion had less musical climax, compared to door five, but there’s an apotheosis nonetheless. Here, Bartók mucks with our head. We know that the Duke will kill Judith as he had done with his previous wives but it is this type of titillation, which causes many to love his music.

Bartók 

Bartók was influenced by the existential readings of Nietzsche and the national Hungarian mood at the onset of the First World War. He once wrote, ‘ I cannot conceive of music that expresses absolutely nothing’ and I believe he left the ending progressively quieter, unsettling and unresolved for audiences’ to re-think what death means.

His cinematic visionary music grabs us. Bartók, probably, wasn’t aware his music would be compared to modern-day film or that he'd still be studied for that matter! Yet the opera tells us more about Bartók, which, even, he would admit.  We learn that he was a visceral composer and yet in the face of war conflict, he chose to construct the human spirit through an opera, which, after his death, is cherished by many.  


For more events taking place at the Royal Festival Hall, please click here. 
Photos courtesy of Willard White, Ildiko Komlosi and Charles Dutoit home websites.