Swan Lake, in concert, Prom 42, Royal Albert Hall, August 2011

With Valery Gergiev conducting, this was a sell-out. I remember his magnificent Sleeping Beauty at the Proms three years ago, and was looking forward immensely to Swan Lake, but in the end I was disappointed.

It was a promising idea. The orchestra of the Mariinsky Theatre have been in London to play for the Mariinsky Ballet at the Royal Opera House, so why not get a Proms concert out of them, with Gergiev, the music director of the Mariinsky, conducting. And yes, there were good moments. A powerful start to the prologue, continuing into Act I, and a lovely harp solo in Act II, joined by a solo violin that reappeared later in Act III and was superbly played by the leader of the orchestra. The basses rocked to the beat at slower moments during the cygnets dance in Act II, swaying the stems of their instruments from side to side — they were obviously having fun — and the percussionist with the castanets in Act III was right on the beat. It must be super for these soloists to play in the great open space of the Albert Hall, rather than hidden away in the orchestra pit, and they rose to the occasion. As for the full orchestra, Act III started with a woompf, and Act IV began with symphonic passion, lovely strings and woodwind. Gergiev has a dramatic technique for starts and conclusions, but the brass hit plenty of wrong notes in the middle, and overall this failed to ignite.

The Mariinsky orchestra played four Bayaderes on Thursday, Friday and Saturday, and this concert was on Monday. Gergiev had little time to get them in shape. It was only one week ago that they performed Swan Lake at Covent Garden, and although this may well have been a cut above, it wasn’t a patch on Gergiev’s Sleeping Beauty with the London Symphony Orchestra in 2008. Please can we have Gergiev and the LSO next year? A theatre orchestra cannot rise above their usual level without adequate rehearsal time, and we should not expect it.

William Tell, in concert, Prom 2, Royal Albert Hall, July 2011

This opera is Rossini’s last, fulfilling a commission for a grand opera made five years earlier when he took up residence in Paris. The press had been buzzing with information on its progress, and in his book on Rossini, Francis Toye tells us that “On August 3^rd, 1829, it was finally produced before an audience bursting with curiosity. …  boxes were said to have changed hands for as much as five hundred francs … [and] though [it] was hailed with a salvo of applause by every musician and critic of note, the public remained comparatively indifferent, judging the opera as a whole to be long, cold and boring”. It is long — nearly four hours of music — and usually sustains various cuts. This performance was no exception, but it was gloriously played and sung by the Orchestra and Chorus of the Academy of Santa Cecilia, Rome, conducted by their music director Antonio Pappano, who also directs our own Royal Opera at Covent Garden.

William Tell is a legendary archer, forced to shoot an apple placed on his son’s head, and the opera is based on Schiller’s 1804 play, in which Tell’s actions help inspire a successful insurrection against Austrian rule. Whether he and his nemesis, the tyrannical Austrian reeve, Gessler, really existed is an open question, and the story of an archer who was compelled to shoot an apple from his son’s head goes back to a Danish tale in the Gestae Danorum (Deeds of the Danes) written by Saxo Grammaticus in the late twelfth century, in which the archer was named Toke, and the oppressor was King Harald Bluetooth. As in the Tell story the archer takes two arrows from his quiver and after succeeding with the first one is asked the meaning of the second one. He responds that if the first one killed his son, the second was for the oppressor himself, and he’s then condemned to death.

Historically it’s a fact that in 1273, Rudolf I of Habsburg revoked the Reichsfreiheit enjoyed by the Cantons of Uri, Schwyz and Unterwalden, and there was a tradition that William Tell’s insurrection took place in the early 14^th century. He’s a local hero, and in 1895 a bronze statue to him was erected in Altdorf, the capital of Uri.

The Schiller drama includes an important love interest. The young Arnold, a friend of Tell, is in love with Princess Mathilde of Habsburg, and sympathetic to Austria as a consequence. But learning that Gessler has killed his father he joins the rebels, and after Tell and his son are condemned to death, Mathilde places the boy under her royal protection. The role of Arnold with its multitude of high notes is a difficult one, and was brilliantly sung by John Osborn, with a glorious heroic tinge to his voice. His opening Act IV aria Ne m’abandonne pas elicited justifiably huge applause. Tell’s son Jemmy was sung with great purity and clarity by Elena Xanthoudakis, and Mark Stone stood out in the baritone role of Leuthold, as did Nicolas Courjal in the bass role of Gessler. The other principals and soloists were all strong, and the chorus was magnificent. When they played the role of Swiss Confederates at the end of scene 2 in Act IV the audience gave them tremendous applause.

I find it ironic, not to say amusing, that this opera on freedom from oppression — whose last line is Liberté, redescends des cieux — was produced in Paris in 1829, the year before the second French revolution when the last Bourbon King of France was exiled. However, it went past the censor unscathed, though the Papal States were not as lenient, and as for northern Italy there was predictable trouble with the Austrian authorities — in Milan the hero became William Wallace, the oppressors were the English, and the scene with the apple was taken out.

Rossini’s music for William Tell is fascinating, and one can even see ways in which it foreshadows Wagner — certainly Wagner himself congratulated Rossini on this! It was much admired by other composers, and I’m delighted that Antonio Pappano has brought it to the Proms, and given us such a wonderful performance. The start of the overture with those five solo cellos, and the wonderful horn calls around the upper reaches of the auditorium in the first scene, were gripping. The audience loved it, and time seemed to fly, but what a pity there were so many empty seats.

Don Sanche, St. John’s Smith Square, London, May 2011

Liszt harboured ambitions to be an opera composer, but Don Sanche or Le château de l’amour is his only work in that genre — yet it received its first performance in Paris in 1825 before he had even reached his 14^th birthday!

Hearing this tuneful composition, reminiscent of Rossini and Donizetti, was an unalloyed pleasure. The story is that Don Sanche’s love for Elzire is unrequited, so he cannot enter the ‘Castle of Love’, presided over by the magician Alidor. Nor can she, so she and her maid Zelis, who are misled by Alidor into approaching the castle, have to spend a stormy night in the forest. The following day, the evil knight Romualde comes to take Elzire by force, and mortally wounds Don Sanche who defends her. This awakens Elzire’s love, and she is willing to give her own life for the noble Sanche. Fortunately Romualde was really Alidor in disguise, and when the wound magically vanishes the young couple are united, and all ends joyously.

This was a concert performance sung in the original French and given in a cut-down version without a chorus. It was given as a celebration of Europe Day 2011 by The European Youth Orchestra, which played beautifully under the direction of Laurent Pillot. The cast was young and the orchestra very young, though no one of course was as young as the composer had been. The singers were so good that one of my neighbours commented approvingly that they were better than the music. Giulio Pelligra sang the tenor role of Don Sanche with lyrical force, and Shadi Torbey was excellent in the baritone role of Alidor/Romualde. The mezzo roles of Elzire and Zelis were beautifully sung by Anaïk Morel and Ingeborg Gillebo, who also sang the part of the page. All four singers were delightful, both in their singing and stage presence, and though the first three all have web pages on the internet, the Norwegian, Ingeborg Gillebo has yet to create one. She should — I thought she was superb, and we will surely hear more of her.