Die Feen, Chelsea Opera Group, Queen Elizabeth Hall, March 2013

Wagner was 20 when he wrote this opera, and it was never performed in his lifetime. Seeing it in Fulham forty years ago I was amazed at its sophistication, and delighted with the Chelsea Opera Group’s concert performance last night.

The two main characters, Arindal and Ada have the same names as in Wagner’s first but uncompleted opera Die Hochzeit (The Wedding), yet the situation is quite different. The political union in that opera is replaced here by a love that is politically almost impossible since Arindal is a mortal prince, and Ada an immortal from the fairy world. She decides to give up her immortality, though knowing this is fraught with difficulty since the spirit world will strike at Arindal giving him ample reason to curse her. He does, and all seems lost. Yet true love triumphs, and the resulting redemption prefigures the world of Wagner’s later operas, with precognitive echoes of Tannhäuser in the music.

Conducting by Dominic Wheeler produced fine energetic playing from the orchestra, bringing this early Wagner very much to life. At one point in Act I he stopped the music to bring the soloists back into phase with the orchestra, but after that it all began to gel, with Danish tenor David Danholt singing strongly in the role of Arindal and New Zealand soprano Kirstin Sharpin singing beautifully as Ada. At the start of Act II the chorus laments the attacks of the enemy, but Elisabeth Meister as Arindal’s sister Lora chimed in strongly, and her solo expressing the brave hope of seeing her brother again drew spontaneous applause. This suddenly moved the performance to a higher level, and Ada’s big aria Weh’ mir … (Alas, the fearful hour draws nigh) confirmed it.

Excellent singing from the three male courtiers, Andrew Slater (bass), Andrew Rees (tenor) and particularly Mark Stone (baritone). Ben McAteer showed strong diction in the minor baritone role of Harald, Emma Carrington sang a lovely mezzo as one of Ada’s two fairy attendants, and Piotr Lempa was a wonderful bass in Act III as the voice of the magician Groma, and as the Fairy King who eventually bestows immortality on Arindal after he has released Ada from petrifaction.

Wagner never again had such a simple happy ending in his redemptive dramas, and discounted this early effort. But what a treat it was to hear such an excellent performance, and congratulations to Chelsea Opera Group and conductor Dominic Wheeler for putting it on.

Yevgeny Onegin, Opera Holland Park, OHP, July 2012

This production by Daniel Slater updates the action by nearly 100 years to a time we all understand, making it clear that Onegin is living in the past. Such was arguably Pushkin’s intent in setting his novel in the period 1819–25 when reforms were very much in the air, and later crushed. Here we are in pre-First World War Russia in Acts I and II, followed by Lenin’s new world in Act III.

Olga and Tatyana, with Onegin revisiting the past; all images OHP/ Fritz Curzon

The sets by Leslie Travers show the destruction of the old aristocratic world, and during the brief musical introduction we see a man, and a woman, both in black coat and hat, gazing on what they have lost. Onegin has lost his earlier life: the dreamy country girl he rebuffed and humiliated, and his friend the provincial poetaster whom he killed in an absurd duel over the country girl’s vacuous sister. When he and she eventually meet again in Act III, the country girl Tatyana is now married to the worthy Prince Gremin, and Anna Leese’s monologue represented vocally how disturbed she feels at their new encounter. When he comes to her room, her heartfelt Ya vas lyublyu! (I love you) was a pivotal moment of pure Russian emotion, brilliantly supported by the orchestra under the direction of Alexander Polianichko, who conducted the same opera for the ENO nearly twenty years ago.

Tatyana and Onegin

The Russian diction was generally very good, and Hannah Pedley as a saucily amusing Olga was outstanding in this respect. Anne Mason represented a calm and dignified presence as the girls’ mother, and Elizabeth Sikora a comfily simple Filippyevna. Peter Auty as Lensky came across as truly Russian, singing a lyrically melodious Ya lyublyu vas to Olga in Act I, and suddenly losing his rag in Act II. As his second in the duel, Barnaby Rea’s diction was excellent, his Ubit over Lensky’s body having an air of utter finality, and in Act III Graeme Broadbent made a commanding figure as Prince Gremin, his main monologue powerfully sung.

Mark Stone portrayed Onegin as an attractive, sympathetic man, albeit narcissistic and aloof from the country folk, and sang this role very well. Anna Leese as Tatyana was outstanding, not just in Act III, but in the letter scene where she showed superb impulsiveness and emotional energy. It was a gripping performance suddenly raising the drama to a higher level.

That letter scene was cleverly played in this production, with multiple letters in the hands of the female chorus, all in nightdresses like Tatyana, and as they exited stage rear it made a poignant scene. Among other nice points, Monsieur Triquet’s silly doggerel in Act II was delivered as if he himself is in love with Tatyana, falling on his knees in front of her before being dragged away. Onegin does the same at the end of Act III, before she draws on inner resources to send him away herself.

Wonderfully subtle lighting changes by Mark Jonathan helped alter the emotional tone of events, and Alexander Polianichko’s conducting gave a fine example of Russian brass playing at the start of Act III. This is a must-see.

Performances continue until August 4 — for details click here.

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.

La Forza del Destino, Holland Park Opera, OHP, August 2010

“Vengeance is mine”, saith the Lord, but the quest for revenge by the Calatrava family, personified by its son, Don Carlo, leads to deaths only in the family itself. In his dying throes, Carlo manages to kill his sister Leonora as she comforts him, but the person he most wanted to kill, namely his sister’s beloved Don Alvaro, lives on. Such is Alvaro’s fate, the power of fate being the theme of this opera, whose driving force is Verdi’s music.

The backdrop to Act III, all images OHP/ Fritz Curzon

I’ve always found it terrific stuff, and was delighted with the excellent musical direction by Stuart Stratford, whom I remember doing an equally fine job at Holland Park last summer with Katya Kabanova. Peter Auty was powerfully lyrical as Alvaro, and his soliloquy in Act III, when he pleads with an absent Leonora to pity his suffering, was superb. Mark Stone was a very strong Carlo, and the two of them together in Act III were wonderful. Gweneth-Ann Jeffers as Leonora was remarkable — she modulated her voice seamlessly from quiet passages to loud ones, and gave this role a powerful undertow of emotion. Among the other parts in this opera, Donald Maxwell was delightful as Fra Melitone, amusing, with perfect comic timing and a gloriously strong voice. No wonder I found him so good as the Major-Domo in Fille du Régiment at Covent Garden three months ago. Mikhail Svetlov sang well as Padre Guardiano, as did Carole Wilson as the gypsy Preziosilla, reminding me of her analogous role in Ballo last summer.

Alvaro holds the dying Leonora

The production by Martin Duncan works very well, with wonderful designs by Alison Chitty, whom I recall doing magical work for Birtwistle’s Minotaur at Covent Garden in April 2008. Here she did another piece of magic. Act III had a black cloth backdrop with chairs hanging in front, along with red cords stretching from floor to rafters at various angles. Lampshades hanging from the rafters were lit blue, and the chairs were projected onto the backdrop. Mark Jonathan’s dark lighting on this set produced the effect of a Kandinsky painting, which I thought entirely appropriate to the time in which the opera was set, namely early-mid twentieth century. Altogether this was a superbly designed production using little more than chairs as props — brilliant.

Congratulations to Opera Holland Park, a fitting production for this, the last night of their season.