I love Italy.

Italians have a particular sense of elegance – refined, understated and polished, with delicate attention to detail. They are probably the most sophisticated Europeans. Yet their food is unpretentious – simple but so heavenly delicious – not to mention the desserts and the wine. And, of course, there’s the culture – the architecture, arts, music and opera.

I haven’t been to Milan in years, and the last time I went, it was for a whirlwind one-day meeting with a fashion house. All my previous visits were for business, so I lacked the opportunity to explore the history of the city, much less spend an evening at a concert or opera.

more…

I was in Paris for a few days to meet a very special friend, and managed to get a couple of tickets to Madame Butterfly at the Opera Bastille. I hadn’t intended to write about this event, for the very simple reason that there was really nothing to write about. But the feelings of frustration overcame me and finally, I ended up with this article.

The last time I saw Madame Butterfly was in London, performed by the English National Opera (ENO) and directed by Anthony Minghella. The whole experience was like a fairytale; it was so spectacular and mesmerising that it changed my whole stance vis-à-vis opera, which has been quite different since. Even so, I went to this performance without any expectations, as it is hard to live up to Minghella. But considering that it was in Paris, it really shouldn’t have been that bad.

more…

I went on my first ECO Music Cruise in 2007, and it was a most memorable experience. Travelling with a respected orchestra and exceptional musicians, enjoying two to three concerts a day over the course of seven days, sometimes even in unprecedented historical venues – it was a frugal adventure that delighted the devoted music lover in me. So returning to the ECO music cruise this fall was something I had been anticipating since the beginning of the year.

We embarked from Athens on the Wind Spirit. Early on in the voyage, we were told that due to a less-than-optimistic weather forecast, the captain had decided to change the itinerary and keep us for two consecutive days out at sea. This made little difference to us; as long as the musical programme remained unchanged, it didn’t matter whether it took place on board or on shore.
more…

Stephane, a friend of ours with an extensive knowledge of classical music, has been a contributor to Interlude since day one, providing invaluable recommendations on composers and artists to cover. A few months ago, he sent me two Youtube clips of his idol, the incomparable soprano Simone Kermes. Her performances were powerful and compelling, drawing an instant wow from my lips. I was completely stunned when I watched the clips, thinking, “What a character! She blows the mind.”

It just so happened that in October, while I was staying in Paris prior to boarding the ECO music cruise, Simone was giving a concert at Salle Gaveau. Being the devoted fan that he is, Stephane organised tickets for a small group of music lovers, myself included. It was also at his recommendation that I interviewed Simone while she was in Paris, and for that, I cannot thank him more!
more…

I am pretty sure you know the famous Alabama Song, with its provocative lyrics. The tune brings back the decadence and perversion of early 20th century Berlin, conjuring the zest of Marlene Dietrich. It has been sung by a number of artists including The Doors, David Bowie, Dalida, Nina Simone and more.

I knew the song, but paid little attention to its origin and composer. It was only when I was at the Teatro Real in Madrid, where they were staging the ‘Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny’ by Kurt Weill, that I realised the song originated as part of this political-satirical opera.

The collaboration between the socialist Jew Kurt Weill and the committed Marxist Bertolt Brecht was a fruitful one, and Mahagonny was widely considered to be their masterpiece. Both composers were exposed to the post-Nazi political tension of Germany in the 1930s, and they used their art to express their discontent and criticism of society.
more…

Over the past few years, Hong Kong’s classical music scene has become increasingly active. The city is slowly shedding its ‘cultural desert’ reputation, attracting a slate of world-class artists and offering a broad variety of programmes. Unfortunately however, opera remains a rarity. You can count on one hand the number of productions staged each year, placing us far behind cities like London, Paris or Berlin. There are plenty of opera lovers in Hong Kong, but the cost of staging a production has been a major issue.

My first concert of the new season was the HKPO Season Opening Gala Concert. It featured an exclusive programme of opera music and arias, which was a great treat for hungry opera fans.

For a so-called Gala Concert held at the Cultural Centre, it was interesting to see the eclectic mix in the audience. We had socialites in designer wear, young couples in jeans, families with small children and elderly attendees in a typical local summer outfit – Bermuda wear. It was certainly very comforting to see that the majority of the audience were genuine music lovers, rather than those seeking a purely social event.
more…

written by Melissa, for Juliette.

In her annual attempt to inject some culture into her nineteen-year-old daughter’s life, my mother forced me to attend the Festival International d’Opéra Baroque in Beaune. So it was with resignation and not a little irritation that my father, my brother and I accompanied my mother to the concert. Perhaps more irritation on my part because I knew the tedious task of article-writing would soon follow (no bitterness here).

The Egyptian-themed concert we attended was set in the Basilique Collégiale Notre-Dame, which is admittedly a rather stunning back-up venue (the concert would have been held in the open courtyards of L’Hôtel-Dieu de Beaune were it not for the rain forecast). The late evening light flooded through impressive stained-glass windows to illuminate the orchestra imposingly. The straight-backed wooden seats (which are, incidentally, not very conducive to sleep) were filled with prim, silver-haired ladies. Needless to say, I was easily the youngest member of the audience.
more…

While I was in London I attended a concert I would normally have avoided, since half of the programme consisted of Arnold Schoenberg. But I bought a ticket and went in spite of my jet leg because Vladimir Jurowski was conducting a reduced orchestra. For one thing, I find Jurowski very charismatic; for another, I was curious to know what a ‘reduced orchestra’ was and how ‘reduced’ it would be.

The concert began with Richard Strauss’ Capriccio prelude for the string sextet. It was a charming piece that brought about feelings of joy and wellbeing, which unfortunately did not last. Because then came Schoenberg’s Pierrot Lunaire.

Berliner actress and singer Albertine Zehme, an expert in melodrama, commissioned Schoenberg to compose a score based on Belgian poet Albert Giraud’s Pierrot Lunaire. She specifically requested something between words and music – a kind of ‘speech-song’. Giraud’s poems are moonlit dreams featuring characters from the commedia dell’arte, but the themes explored are dark and sombre, encompassing violence, death, religious heresy and the like.
more…

I first met Piotr Anderszewski at la Roque d’Anthéron Piano Festival. I had heard of this talented  pianist, but never had a chance to listen to him live.

I still remember the evening concert where I first met him. My favourite Bach Partita was on the programme, and I get very excited whenever there’s Bach. And so I began my evening full of anticipation and enthusiasm – a bit like a child who finally gets his hands on the chocolate dessert after a meal of boring veggies.

The concert was staged in the beautiful garden of Château de Florans. As I strolled towards the venue that evening, I passed by a little house from which floated strains of the last movement of the Partita. Even then, I realised that it was without a doubt Piotr, warming up for his imminent performance. The shutters were down so one could not glance inside, but the music was clear and loud.  I could hear the pianist concentrating on that last bit, repeating it over and over again, reaching for perfection. I remained behind that window for maybe over ten minutes, touched not only by his will and perseverance, but also by the vulnerability of his art.
more…

I have been travelling so extensively lately that I missed most of the wonderful performances that Le French May brought to Hong Kong this year. Fortunately however, I managed to attend a concert featuring Nemanja Radulovic, a young Serbian violinist that I first heard last May, when he delivered an exceptional and unusual version of Bach’s Violin Concerto at La Folle Journée in Tokyo.

Nemanja has very unique looks: stunning long hair; dark, mesmerising eyes; a childlike, elfish face; and a smile that is charming and seductive, but innocent at the same time. It is a smile that makes you smile back instantly.

At the tender age of 24, Nemanja already has a well-established reputation. He won a number of reputable international prizes and his exposure is quite extensive in France, where he has been living since the age of 14 and where he trained at the Conservatoire National Supérieur de Paris.
more…