Blogging Renaissance

This is the video that's getting me through Easter break. LOOK AT HER FACE! It's a) one of the best faces ever and more importantly b) look at the joy she gets from singing that lovely Mozart...and she makes it look so ridiculously easy.

The legend that is Frederica von Stade came to me in a dream whilst I was camping on an interesting incline in deepest darkest Wales, squished against the side of a damp tent freezing my little fingers off. Not the first place you'd expect to find Flicka. But there she was in all her glory...on the same programme as me...her name was just above mine on the recital list...'In my dreams' quite literally. She gave me a brilliant and motivational speech, which though I was very impressed with whilst sleeping, couldn't for the life of me remember now. And then she sang to me like an angel. Oh and I wept in her presence...wept like a baby. Which was odd, as up until about a week ago, I'd only heard of her, never actually listened. Needless to say, it was possibly the best dream ever - if there had been any form of cake or baked goods it would have definitely been stuck at number one for the rest of eternity.

I was slowly woken from this lovely alternative reality by a really worrying sensation due lack of circulation to my freezing extremities, and the wafting of men's deodorant from the tent next door indicated that it was time to get up for another day of ceaseless walking and generalised pain. It even got to the point where we'd step on sharp stones in an attempt to centralise the pain in one area, the masochists we are. Were it not for reminiscing over my dream (and of course the promise of a variety of sweets at regular intervals) I'm pretty sure I would have just sat myself down and refused to move.

So now I'm officially von Stade obsessed, so you can imagine my slight over excitement when Gramophone sneaked us all a peak at their 'new look' May issue. Not only is there a feature on von Stade's retirement (why did I not find out about her sooner!?) but the cover feature is of her successor, the incomparable Joyce DiDonato?! I nearly died. Then, when I had regained the use of my limbs, got in my car and drove to the nearest Gramophone stockist...which when you live in a ridiculously tiny town is no small feat. BUT I HAVE IT. And my life for the moment is complete...until of course I've finished reading.

"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.

"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 :)

"Fra il padre"

So, I decided against my first choice - the extract of 'Quant'e grato all'alma mia' - on this recording purely for the fact that I realised I'd heard it all before...kind of. The aria, composed before Barbiere or Cenerentola, contains extracts of (in)famous arias from both operas; 'Una voce poco fa' and 'Non piu mesta' respectively. Both of them I've tried...but I did the musical equivalent of 'dipping my toe in' and then quickly ran back to my Handel. In true opera composer style, Rossini robbed brilliant ideas from an opera that didn't do fantastically, and created two absolute monsters of the operatic repertoire. Legend.

Anyway, enough of that; on to "Fra il padre", which I've been obsessively, incessantly humming for about 3 days. I apologise profusely to anyone who I've been around, as it can't be all that fun to have my constant trilling worming into your poor little ears...

The repeating woodwind theme, that first makes an appearance at the very beginning of this piece, is the cheeky little melody thats been on 'replay' in my mind. I must have listened to this 20 second section more times than Rossini himself, purely to hear the octave piccolo (I think/hope) which makes me want to nod my head in time. Much of Rossini's composition is so fiercely rhythmic, and, for me at least, this piece is just such a wonderful example of that signature style; no one else could have composed it. Perhaps if I listen to this in the car, and people see me nodding, they'll think I'm listening to hiphop, and my social status will take a sudden climb...maybe something to try!

I'm slightly suspicious of Rossini and his apparent use of the 19th Century equivalent of 'cut and paste' on the massive virtuosic vocal passages that are apparent in so many of his real 'finale' type arias. However, credit where credit's due - the guy's pretty talented at conveying emotion. In the slightly less crazy quasi-arioso, 'Tanti affetti', directly before 'Fra il padre', Elena, the titular Lady of the Lake, is singing about the multitude of emotions that are 'crowding [her] heart' and the 'immensity of [her] hapiness' that she 'cannot express'; well, I'd beg to differ. The coloratura in the aria itself seem to me the perfect representation and expression of a racing heart, overflowing with feelings that literally run away with her, vocally and emotionally. The finale of the piece, where the orchestra comes in with a bang, and the vocal rhythm suddenly pulls out and stretches just like elastic is truly majestic- with Joyce DiDonato's voice soaring high above the rest.

As for Ms. DiDonato...I have no words! Well maybe a few - That voice is out of this world. That's all bases covered I'd say? 'They' say that Isabella Colbran, Rossini's muse, must have possessed an unbelievable voice, or at the very least, been a truly convincing actress, to sing all of the parts that Rossini wrote for her. Joyce would have kicked her butt any day. The CD is a triumph, and by far the best christmas present I got this year, from one of my precious few friends who can truly sympathise with my inner geek.

Dear Lord, I pray that one day I'll be able to sing Rossini. I pray that I don't continue to sound like a varying range of strangled animals when attempting the 16th notes. I pray that I'll be able to find somewhere to breath in between said 16th notes. I pray that somehow, somewhere, I'll be able to sing his music at faster than half speed. Amen.