Giulio Cesare Glyndebourne 2006

So from the shortest piece in the whole entire world, we move onto a full 295 minutes of pure genius, perhaps the finest opera seria ever written; Handel's Guilio Cesare.

I sat down this morning fully intending to watch half an hour of the recorded opera on TV...but with a steady supply of coco pops and aria after aria, delight after delight - I couldn't take my eyes off it.

The opera itself runs like a 'Handel's Greatest Hits' and this particular award-winning production from Glyndebourne is both magical and imposing; transferred to the 20th Century British Empire, but with definite elements of visual fantasy. If I could, I'd just paste the entire opera on here, it's THAT worthy - but I'll have to choose my top-favourites...

1)

First is Sarah Connolly's (aka Giulio Cesare, the tyrant himself) first real beast of an aria Empio, diro, tu sei which he breaks into upon being presented with the head of his defeated enemy Pompey. Real typical Handel 'angry' aria, but its wonderful all the same - perfect angular line for the strings, with ample opportunity for a few vocal runs for old Cesare. Connolly is supremely convincing too - great acting throughout this - with subtle changes in the vocal colour to just give us a bit more extra meaning...that's all it takes! Only two unsettling things about this clip:

1) She looks suspiciously like Stephen Fry in the Giulio get-up

2) Sound's like she's singing about Gnocchi in the second phrase...which just makes me hungry...

I'm disproportionately annoyed that my favourite Sesto clip (L'angue offeso mai riposa) doesn't appear to be on youtube...so I shall have to in fact settle on my 3rd favorite...as I've already written about Cara speme. All the same...its ACTUALLY amazing...

2)

The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment is showed off wonderfully here, and someone is really banging out that harpsichord, which can only be good news. Nice example of the de capo (ABA) aria here as well, with an eerie little return of a melodic idea from Cara speme in the middle section. Angelika Kirchschlager is also completely believable as the pre-pubescent Sesto; artificially it may be the lovely bowl haircut, but it's more likely to be that lovely, innocent clear tone, a bit reminiscent of a boy soprano.

3)

This melody is heartbreaking. And there's something that I can't quite put my finger on about the orchestral accompaniment that's truly magical...it might have something to do with the fact that it's quite sparse and that Handel was THE genius of chordal progressions. Also, watching this is like a master class in how to breath properly - which was definitely what the costume designers had in mind when sketching up the possibilities -or lack of them- for this scene...

You wouldn't believe how long it took to whittle this down to a mere 3 peices...and I'm even saving Piangero, la sorte mia until after I've learned it, in the hope that I'll have a bit more insight. But to sum up, I am NEVER deleting this recording from my sky+ library...unless of course someone would like to buy me the obscenely priced DVD? Any takers?

Deh, prendi un dolce amplesso

It seems that this is 1 of 1 mezzo-mezzo duets. And it's ABOUT 30 seconds long. This makes me disproportionately sad, as there is no better voice in the world than that of a mezzo! Seriously, being a mezzo is the ONLY way to maintain a bit of dignity - they're not screaming around desperately trying to hit the pitch that only dogs can hear, nor are they dying of inexplicable ailments, they're often the third 'most important' performer...basically - they're subtly awesome and therefore a bit more modest - so we can let them go a bit crazy if they ever stumble across Carmen or Amneris .

I like Mozart though...not just for his general genius, but for this snippet of rare amazingness...

Effort = 5 gold stars (only a few for the boy Mozart, he probably knocked this out in the time it takes to sing it)

Harmony = 4,394,032 gold stars. Wolfgang, you absolute beast. This is gorgeous - the lower line caressing the upper one and mirroring it to ACTUAL perfection. Simple, yet supremely effective.

Duration = -12 gold stars. This may just be a passing declaration of loyalty, but NOTHING in opera is duration realistic, we all know how long it can take those sopranos to finally pop their clogs.

So overall that's 4,394,025. Not half bad, WE JUST WANT MORE OF IT PLEASE MR. M!

Also a note to the set designer - office blocks + harpsichord aren't a great anachronism...but overall bravo! for a seriously ace production.

"Schlafe, mein Liebster"

Really, really unseasonal - but seeing as we're expecting arctic conditions over the next week, I thought I could make an exception for an extract from Bach's Christmas Oratorio...Schlafe, mein Liebster. I'm booked to sing this with the flute choir at school, though don't have the music...so have to learn it from the recording...good times! We'll get there :)

Bach was really never one to conform, and its obvious in this, with his not-so-stereotypical musical portrayal of Christmas. The text isn't particularly sacred and there's not a glockenspiel or tubular bell in sight! Though what he really does portray well is the richness of the season, with a really thick orchestral texture, over which the vocal line floats.

Though the vocal line isn't particularly high; a real mezzo is needed to combat the untransposed score. Thankfully for me, flutes are unnaturally high, so I'll be singing a fair bit higher. The only think I'm slightly worried about is how texture will be changed...or how the vocal part might be overpowering - as it is definitely the orchestra that have the focus in this piece.

As with every single bit of Bach that I've ever laid 'ears' on, the harmony in this is divine, especially when there is a sustained vocal part with orchestral movement underneath. In our A Level music course, we have to harmonise a melody in the style of Bach for a section of our exam; and this is a perfect example as to why.

"Ombra mai fu"

This has successfully completed my transformation into Handel's biggest fan. I've already waxed lyrical about his wonderful vocal writing, so there's not really much more I could possibly say on the subject...but Ombra Mai Fu from his opera Xerxes is one of the most beautifully calming arias I've ever come across.

Though...the text is a little bit strange! In opera we're used to Romantic expression of massive passions and feelings in the form of a lovely little compact aria. However, this seems to be about a tree. King Xerxes seeks enlightenment from said beloved tree as the plot of the opera begins, opening with what is now perhaps one of Handel's most celebrated pieces. The story of Xerxes is a little bit confusing...I think I'll have to watch it sometime to fully understand - but for now I'll just paste a particularly mind-bending extract from the all-knowing wikipedia;

King Xerxes, looking up from contemplation of his beloved tree, sees Romilda, the daughter of his vassal Ariodate, and makes up his mind to marry her. However, Romilda and Xerxes' brother, Arsamene, love eachother, while Romilda's sister, Atalanta, is also determined to make Arsasmene hers. Amastre, Xerxes' fiancee, forsaken by him for Romilda, disguises herself as a man and observes Xerxes.

Well that's a crazy love-rhombus and a disguise already established and they haven't even got onto the main plot yet! It's one for watching more than reading I think...

The beauty of this music mirrors the beauty of what Xerxes is singing about. It's simple, and natural - everything seems to grow from an organic place - no note is superfluous. In a good interpretation, like Bartoli's, the first note grows and blooms as it moves through the pulse of the music. It's regal, as one would expect from a King, though not haughty - the perfect representation of a figure alone in contemplation.

Handel was a legend, who could elegantly transform something that on the surface is about a tree, into something much much more :)

"Where shall I fly?"

I've become a complete Handel fiend...so I'm going to keep going in that direction I think :)

In my meagre 17 years, I've come to realise that Handel must have been psychic. Or a woman. Or both. This may seem like a bit of an odd statement - but he seemed to really know the exact limits of the female voice, had the ability to write to the very boundary, and tiptoe along the line of the voice's capability. This makes for a) some brilliant music to sing and b) a great listening experience. This aria, "Where shall I fly?", from Hercules must be one such boundary-tiptoeing example. Taken from Joyce DiDonato's collection of 'mad scenes', Furore, this aria is quite simply terrifying - especially when you see her amazing crazy acting...

The aria, as the title of DiDonato's CD suggests, constitutes the mad scene, and the denouement, of Handel's musical drama. Hercules' wife, Dejanira, is pretty pissed at the thought of her husband returning home with a rival for his love: Iole, daughter of murdered King Oechalia. However Dejanira thinks she has and ace up her sleeve, and sends Hercules a robe that apparently possesses the power to restore his love for her. Little does she know that it had actually been poisoned by a centaur who was mortally wounded by Hercules. Dejanira is driven mad with grief and regret when she learns of her husband's death - resulting in the exert that I've been having a listen to.

There are so many elements of this aria that just scream 'I'M ABSOLUTELY CRAZY', that it's going to be quite a challenge to just focus on a few. However, the first thing that arrests the listener is the very very busy orchestral accompaniment; it seems to mimic the thoughts that must be running through, and completely suffocating, this woman's mind. It seems to run away from itself, as Dejanira must be desperately trying to run away from the reality of her actions. This is interestingly contrasted by the eerily beautiful interlude, where she asks to be hidden from 'their hated sight' - the complete contrast in mood created by the different styles of expression, perfectly paints Dejanira's madness - as she skips seamlessly from one emotion to its polar opposite. Aristotle, the father has tragedy, has said that the perfect example of this genre must evoke 'fear and pity' in its audience - and this is certainly achieved here, as we travel with Dejanira through fury, grief, fear, and back again.

I was scared watching DiDonato singing this. It's a truly amazing, yet terrifying experience - mainly for the fact that she completely embodies the character. Or maybe she is a little bit crazy; who knows! I love how she slightly lets her voice go - there is what seems like a subtle relaxation in relation to sound production which really allows all emotion to just pour out of her. There is a raw sound to all of it - some parts even verging on cultivated shouting - that just equal perfection for me. I now can't hear anyone else singing it. Plus, she's got the 'Hello, I'm mentally disturbed' anxious rocking down to a T.

"Duet from 'Nina'"

And now to an Opera who's DVD cover makes it look like the love-child of hollywood director Tim Burton and little known composer Giovanni Paisiello; Nina.

The sentimental comedy that is Nina, is not very well known at all, in fact, according to the web, it barely exists at all. The only synopsis I can find is a vague one, but gives a bit of background to this wonderful duet.

So apparently I'm not that far off with the crazy Nina/Tim Burton description...as apparently Nina is a patient in a 'sanatorium', losing her reasoning due to her father's disapproval of Lindoro, her first choice for a husband. Though all is not lost, as Lindoro returns, and adopts the role of a friend when Nina doesn't recognise him. Through a series of hints, Nina slowly starts to realise who he is, and it ends happily ever after as they rejoice in their rediscovered love.

So this duet comes at the end of all this, when Lindoro has returned, and Nina is slowly coming to her realisation. Or she's already realised...I'm not entirely sure. There are several things that could be interpreted in both circumstances, so I'll give both sides. For example, there is a brilliant section, where both orchestration and vocal line, gallop ahead of the tempo set previously. This could indicate either a wave of realisation on Nina's part, that Lindoro is standing right in front of her. Or, considering the fact she's focused on removing his waistcoat, could be post-realisation excitement for who knows what...

When I first heard the music, I was immediately struck that it was a mix between Rossini Mozart-like orchestra accompaniment. There's something about the sweet, melodic line in some of the passages that so reminds me of phrases from La Clemenza, whereas the increasinly rhythmic focus as the piece goes on, makes me think of most Rossini compositions. There's also a violin phrase that comes inbetween vocal phrases that just has Rossini written all over it. Though this is just my ears, which may be a little uncultured...take a listen yourself to make up your own, probably more accurate, mind :)

It's interesting that Cecilia Bartoli is singing this role, written for a Soprano, even though she does have an impressive range. It's quite difficult to tell whether this is a wise choice or not, without any available comparisons, however, I enjoy the quality of her singing, which is so strongly based on the use of breath in rhythmic sections. Her face scares me slightly though; it's one of the most intense singing faces I've ever seen! I'm 100% sure that 97 year old, slightly blind Edna in the back row of the Met would be able to see every single one of her facial expressions. And that's no bad thing, she certainly tells the story! Jonas Kauffman on the other hand, is so relaxed in everway; vocal production and acting. That baritone quality of his tenor range really sets him apart from other tenors of his generation; creating a richness that you usually expect from the 'villian' and not the 'prince charming'.

I'm very excited that this is available on DVD...I may have to check it out on amazon.com - I'm becoming they're most valuable customer...

"Cara speme"

I went into HMV today and spent such an obscene amount of money on music, that I think I'll have shoppers guilt for the rest of my life. However, in no way, shape or form do I feel guilty about buying this Wigmore Hall live recital disc. I was pretty much in tears when I went to book tickets for DiDonato's 2010 recital, only to realize it was completely sold out already; so I bought this as a, only slightly less exciting, consolation prize.

All of it's stunning, as expected - especially Hahn's 'Venezia' cycle, of which I'm already looking for the sheet music. However, as a newfound Handel fan - it was the encore of 'Cara Speme', from Giulio Cesare which really caught my ear :)

The aria is sung by Sesto (who was initially cast as a Soprano but Tenors were used even in Handel's lifetime) when Cleopatra agrees to help him avenge the murder of his father...by killing her brother...Oh opera, you're so brilliant in every single way. However, far from a fierce declaration of revenge (a bit like Magdalena Kozena's version), DiDonato gives this a softeness, and pensiveness which makes you feel he's doing this, without doubt, for the love of his father. This probably owes to the legato accompaniment as much as her sweet voice.

What first struck me about this recording, with simple, flowing piano reduction - was that I couldn't hear a lot of the typical Handel-y elements that are present in a lot of the Baroque recordings. However, the 'bounciness' of Handel would stick out like a sore thumb on this CD, which is really akin to 'easy listening'. I also love music with killer baseline. To illustrate this, I can tell you that, next to my numerous recital, full opera, extract, ballet, and song CDs - I have Lauren Hill, The Fugees, Eminem and Alicia Keys. I'm not all nerd...but the nerdy stuff's the best. But anway, a killer bassline...this has one, believe it or not. In fact, much of the accompaniment is only in bass and tenor clef :) So, as I was saying, the piano not only makes it fit in perfectly with the other repertoire on the disc, but also gives it a bit of a facelift, slightly modernizing it.

There is one part, in this entire aria, that I wait for - simply for that 'goosebump' sensation that only great music can cause. It comes on the word 'lusingar', and it leaps and descends and then rises again so majestically...I've rewound so many times to listen to it (it happens at about 1.45 in the Kozena video clip). Strangely, this part stuck out to me as sounding oddly 'modern' - even by Handel's 18th Century standards. I don't know what it is about it, but the series of notes seems decades ahead of its time compared to the rest of the piece - even on the more traditionally baroque recordings. It also has my beloved piano baseline running underneath it :)

Either way, the entire thing is beautiful - and what was initially intended to be the 'consolation' CD, has now made me even more disappointed that I'm missing out on seeing this great artist live. I'm going to have to see her sooner or later - she more than deserves to join the legends who've signed my i-pod :)

Top left: Roberto Alagna, Middle right: Renée Fleming, Bottom middle: Elina Garanca...there's some room for Joyce there somewhere...

UPDATE: Check out this legend...I found him on my youtube travels :)

"Che faro senza Euridice"

I just watched a wonderful production of Gluck's, 'Orfeo ed Euridice', broadcast a while ago from the Met, and was completely blown away by the heartbreaking music, stunning staging, contemporary dance and a magnetic performance from Stephanie Blythe. I feel blessed to have been able to see the result of a great performer singing a role that seems to have been written just for her. It was that perfect.

One of the moments that has stuck in my mind from seeing the recording only once, was the terribly sad (if not slightly frustrating) scene when Orfeo finally gives in, and looks at his beloved Euridice, only to see her carried back to the Underworld. The aria that follows is one of the most touching pieces of music I've ever heard. And despite the fact that it's very popular, I'd never heard of it until now...shows how much I know! I've really been missing out...

"Che faro senza Euridice" is gorgeous. The strings introduce us to the melody, which is set underneath a pulsing accompaniment, which I imagine to be poor Orfeo's heart, as he contemplates the rest of his life without Euridice. The octave strings follow the voice throughout the melody, which somehow just makes it all the more melancholy. I'm not sure why, but I like to think that this string accompaniment somehow symbolises Euridice; perhaps it's the sound of her voice in Orfeo's imagination...I don't quite know. The text of this piece breaks my heart too- as Orfeo constantly repeats 'what do I do', 'where do I go'. He calls out Euridice's name and begs her to respond, with a beautiful high note, that just falls the octave when he realises it's all in vain.

Stephanie Blythe's voice facinates me. There's something about it that is so obviously rich, and majestically feminine - but it has an edge. In the lower register she achieves an almost tenor like colour, which kicks in just where the passagio sounds like it should be - but of course, she's so awesome you'd never be 100% sure she had any kind of passagio whatsoever. To me, her voice is like a skort. You know, those things that look like skirts, but then are actually shorts underneath? No, really, hear me out here. Essentially her voice is a skirt - feminine, rich, what you'd expect. But then there's a little hidden shock - shorts; a bit of a masculine edge. That was the worst metaphor of my life. But at least it got across my point...I hope.

So overall, Orfeo ed Euridice = amazing! I'm glad I tackled my slight phobia of opera based on greek myths, and even discovered lots of lovely music and a great singer along the way.

Right, now it's time for the final act of the Der Rosenkavalier DVD - the kleenex are ready and waiting.