Interlude » Events

Roméo in Milan

Tracy — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 16:01:57 +0000

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.

My trip in June was therefore very special. I took my daughter Melissa to discover Milan with me. It was her first visit, and mine too, as a tourist. I secured tickets to La Scala and booked a city tour. I tend to dislike tours and crowds when I travel alone, but it was the only way for us to get to see Da Vinci’s Last Supper.

As it turned out, joining the tour was a good decision and perfect timing, because the itinerary included a visit to La Scala. Once there, I was enlightened on the opera house’s history, and visited its small museum and listened to historical anecdotes before attending the evening performance.

That night, I had my première encounter with Gounod’s Roméo and Juliette, which I had never heard before apart from a few arias. It was musically pleasant and enjoyable, though not the most outstanding work of art, in my taste.

The staging was faithful to the time during which the story is set. There was no fancy transposition, no moving the set into the 21st century, although the portrayal of Juliette felt a little exaggerated. Watching her jump around giggling and gesticulating was annoying, even if she is supposed to be a 14-year-old. Nevertheless, the young Mexican soprano Maria Alejandres was charming as Juliette. Before long, her resplendent voice, appealing physique and enthusiastic acting won the hearts of the audience.

Brazilian tenor Fernando Portari, on the other hand, was quite disappointing at first. His voice sounded modest and indecisive. I must say, however, that my expectations of tenors are usually quite low. This is going to be just another average opera tenor de service, I often tell myself. But 30 minutes or so into the performance, Portari’s voice began to open up and gain more assurance. His ensuing arias even featured controlled nuances and delicate colours. In the end, Portari seduced and moved the audience. His talent generated genuinely warm applause. He was definitely the right Roméo for the evening, winning not only Juliette’s heart, but those of the entire Milanese audience.

The highlight of the evening for me was the Canadian conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin. Melissa and I were sitting in one of the side boxes and almost had to lean forward to have a full view of the stage. But with the whole orchestra positioned under us, it was amazing to watch the musicians move and interact. I was especially struck by the conductor, whether he was leading the orchestra or accompanying the singers, his enthusiasm and energy were remarkable. I was also impressed by how well he knew the score. He sang passionately throughout, including Juliette’s arias!

Overall, we had a great time, but the whole point of this article, is not really about Milan, La Scala or Roméo, it is about my evening with Melissa, because there’s nothing more gratifying and satisfying than sharing one’s passion with someone you love.

Related videos:

Maria Alejandres – Je veux vivre from Roméo and Juliette
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Mariella Devia & Fernando Portari – duet from Anna Bolena
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducts the Rotterdam Philharmonic
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Photo credits: calitreview.com, en.wikipedia.org

Shabby Butterfly!

Tracy — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 16:01:22 +0000

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.

To start with, there is nothing to say about the music. After all, Puccini will always be Puccini, and Butterfly always Butterfly. Although most of the score is quite simple and occasionally too dull for my taste, there is still a substantial number of splendid sections that deserve special attention. The Orchestre de l’Opera National de Paris is normally very good and of a decent standard, but unfortunately that day was not their day, and their delivery was very bland.

Robert Wilson, a highly regarded figure in the opera world, did a one-man show of directing, stage setting and light designing, all in one go. However, multitasking seemed to be too much for him as the stage was reduced to an arrangement of black and white cardboard and the lighting was just a projection of different colours on a neutral background. As for the directing, the whole cast (dressed in white and black again!) was moving like Kabuki dancers, only at a much slower pace.

About the cast (sigh), there is less than nothing to write. Micaela Carosi as Cio-Cio San was probably the best… starting from Act II. Throughout most of Act I, her voice sounded unprepared and off tune. However, I have learned to be a bit more lenient with age, because at the end of the day, artists are not machines – they do have their off days. Maybe she was tired or had a fight with her boyfriend, who knows. And we can forget about Pinkerton, a.k.a. James Valenti. I could hardly hear him unless the orchestra stopped playing.

What then, was the best part of Madame Butterfly? Probably the programme brochure, which was beautifully produced with several articles about Japan, extracts from Pierre Loti’s writings, and lovely vintage photos.

So why am I writing this article? Well, to share what a waste of time and money it was, and the absurdity of showcasing a very average spectacle as “a major production on one of the most important operatic stages.” I still recall the moment when Cio-Cio San and Suzuki both froze while the orchestra continued playing monotonously. My companion, a regular opera goer, looked at me with despair and whispered, “This is really long!” Oh, how I missed the other Madame Butterfly, the ENO production with Minghella. But I guess talent is hard to come by.

At the end of the opera, the public went berserk and nearly gave them a standing ovation. And as for all the praises I heard at the exit – well, did I miss something? Or is the Parisian audience becoming more ignorant and less demanding? Anyway, next time I should stay in and spend a quiet evening with friends, which is sure to be more rewarding and enjoyable.

Paris (3)

My short stay was, of course, all about dining, drinks, gatherings and outings.

There was too much to see and alas, too little time. I did, however, manage to visit the Modern Art Museum for a major Jean-Michel Basquiat retrospective and the Jeu de Paume for a stunning collection of André Kertész photos.

I was also treated to meals at a few Michelin-starred restaurants. Much like my feelings expressed above about the Shabby Butterfly, these experiences were disappointing. They were not only a waste of time and money, but also of calories. After all, you have to book weeks in advance to endure pompous and snobbish service, pore over a complicated menu which takes a quarter of a page to describe a roast chicken, not to mention the prices…

My experiences watching Madame Butterfly and dining at the Michelin eateries amounted to a kind of rip-off that left me with a bitter aftertaste. The sense of superiority exuded by a certain crowd in Paris makes them look ridiculous and I am pretty sure they will soon be out-performed by authentic talents.

Now for the positive part.

The first is Thoumieux. This new restaurant was opened by Jean-François Piège, the ex-chef of Les Ambassadeurs, who decided to go his own way and start all over again. This is a small and cosy restaurant that only seats 20, with a simple and short menu and reasonably priced fare. The open kitchen needs some improvement in ventilation, but makes the whole venue friendlier and the chef more accessible. This is a place I would definitely recommend, and it is also very comforting to see a new generation coming up with creative and simple ideas.

Another positive was a wonderful dinner in my friend’s kitchen, where I had the best poutargue toasts I have ever tasted. Both the evening and the meal were wonderfully memorable. Unfortunately, he is not ready to open his own restaurant yet.

And there was that unforgettable afternoon when we listened to Haydn and Vanhal, and laughed at jokes about musicians while sipping Champagne Rosé… what more could I ask for?

Photo credits: theurbanman.com, julotzeblog.com

The ECO Music Cruise

Tracy — Thu, 09 Dec 2010 16:01:32 +0000

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.

The opening concert was a very interesting one. The ECO, together with harpist Claire Jones and flautist William Bennett, delivered a full programme for the harp and flute. I had not the chance to hear the ECO play since 2007, and I must admit that in the three years since, the orchestra has improved immensely in terms of musicality. Leader Stephanie Gonley has matured and gained assurance, and cellist Caroline Dale is just lovely to hear and watch. Claire Jones, aged only 25 and the Official Harpist to HRH the Prince of Wales since 2007, was exquisite in Debussy’s Danse Sacrée et Profane as well as Mozart’s Concerto for Flute and Harp.

I have a very limited knowledge of the harp. For me, it had merely been part of larger orchestral pieces or hotel lobbies. Following Claire’s concert and her interview the next day however, I came to learn a lot more about the instrument and its complexity.

Apart from Claire, there was a line-up of other wonderful artists such as Steven Isserlis, Joshua Bell, Sergej Krylov, Igor Levit, young trumpeter Sergei Nakariakov, tenor Benjamin Hulett, pianist Ana-Maria Vera and so many more – the list just goes on. And with an average of two concerts a day, it would be difficult to list every detail of the wonderful music programme on the cruise. Rather, let me highlight the concerts that I found particularly outstanding.

Sergej Krylov, who had been on the cruise in 2007 and whose lyricism and flawless technique remained vivid in my memory, gave what was probably the most impressive concert of the cruise together with Igor Levit. Their Beethoven’s violin sonata Kreutzer is by far the best I have ever heard.

The world-renowned violinist Joshua Bell is, to me, the violin’s answer to Lang Lang. He possesses masterful technique, superb stage presence, and a much cuter face than Lang Lang. He was impressive in Ravel’s Sonata for Violin and Cello with Steven Isserlis – I certainly think his style is more suitable for a modern repertoire than for Baroque music. His rendition of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons with the ECO was extremely vigorous, the playing so exuberant that all four seasons sounded like one – a long stormy summer!

To me, the beautiful pianist Ana-Maria Vera is une vraie petite perle. Her music was like her personality – soft, sweet, delicate, subtle and classy. She played wonderfully with William Bennett in Melanie Bonis’ Sonata for Flute and Piano, a charming piece by a little-known French composer. Faure’s Elegie, which she played with cellist Caroline Dale, was just splendid. Both ladies played with wonderful intensity.

Cellist Steven Isserlis wrote a few fairy tales to music composed by Anne Dudley. One of these, the Little Red Violin, is a charming story full of wit and humour. He performed it with Joshua Bell and Ana-Maria Vera, with musicologist Stephen Johnson as narrator. It is unfortunate that there’s no recording available, because the piece would have made a great introduction to classical music for youngsters.

Another highlight was probably the interviews and lectures conducted by Stephen Johnson, who is an extremely knowledgeable musicologist with a great sense of humour. I enjoyed his lecture about Schumann immensely, and regret that there wasn’t more from him during the course of the cruise.

The only downside to the voyage was probably the ship itself, the Wind Spirit. She is now three years older than she was in 2007, as am I. As a motor sail yacht with a 148-passenger capacity, she is ideal in terms of privacy, intimacy and closeness, but her small size also means that the rooms are pretty close to the engines. My nights were short thanks to the noise of the propellers, and even shorter when I decided to use earplugs! The dilemma became choosing between the noise and the rubber invaders in my ears.

The two consecutive days at sea under turbulent conditions caused many people – including the musicians – to become sick. Luckily, the situation improved and we managed to go onshore almost every day that remained of the cruise.

Among the shore visits, I must mention Sorrento, which I visited many times before on my way to the wonderful island of Capri. This time, we did not have enough time for Capri, since our destination was the Grand Hotel Cocumella, where a concert was held in the hotel chapel. The five-star establishment had been converted from a 16th century Jesuit monastery with a dramatic view on the Bay of Naples. Cocktails were served in the gardens against the backdrop of a stunning sunset. It is the ideal setting for a romantic escape or a wedding.

Another wonderful place we visited was Ischia, where a concert was held at the Giardini La Mortella, created by Susana Walton, wife of the British composer Sir William Walton. The legend – and probably the reality – is that Walton was in Buenos Aires when met Susana, and was so besotted that he proposed after two weeks. After numerous love affairs and at the age of 46, Walton was probably mature and experienced enough to know and appreciate true love, which he appeared to have found with Susana. Together they moved to Ischia, where she created the Giardini with the help of landscape architect Russell Page, according to a design inspired by music. Susana and Sir William remained together until his death in 1983. The Giardini is a magical place where one can feel his love and dedication to her and her love and admiration for him. It is also an enchanting place to hear Sergej Krylov perform Pablo Sarasate’s Ziegeunerweisen, a piece so full of passion and fire that it can only be a mirror of Walton’s love and life.

Related videos:

Claire Jones plays at St. Dogmaels
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Ana-Maria Vera – Chopin: Fantaisie
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Sergej Krylov – Mozart: Violin Concerto in A major K219, 1st movement
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Itzhak Perlman – Sarasate: Zigeunerweisen
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Photo credits: andrehavardphoto.co.uk

Simone, Rocker Queen of the Baroque

Tracy — Thu, 25 Nov 2010 16:01:48 +0000

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!

I managed to schedule a meeting with her on the afternoon of her concert at 3.30pm, at her hotel. I felt rather nervous about my interviewing skills, even though I did my homework by surfing extensively on the internet. My knowledge of Simone was very limited; my only exposure to her performances was through Youtube, where she looked flamboyant and extravagant, with her fiery red hair and rocker moves. I wondered whether we would find the chemistry to chat through the 30 minutes I had been allotted. I feared to find myself either scrabbling for topics, or scrabbling for more time.

I was in the hotel lobby by 3.30, and just then, Simone texted me saying she was leaving the metro and would arrive in two minutes. I was extremely pleased by her punctuality and the respect she had for other people’s time – a quality that is unfortunately quite rare nowadays.

When we met, Simone exuded a natural warmth and openness that made conversation flow easily and comfortably. Her beautiful blue eyes had a mesmerising and almost intimidating quality, but when she spoke, her manner was friendly and casual. She told us about the love for music that came to her as a child, although her passion for classical music came later. A born songstress, she has always been open to all genres, although her preference lies squarely in Baroque.

We also chatted about her previous engagement in Beijing, from which she had just returned. She performed as Donna Anna in Mozart’s Don Giovanni with the Cologne Opera House. The local authorities had imposed numerous restrictions on the performance, but the warm and positive reception from the public opened up the possibility of returning to China for future concerts. And of course, we discussed her concert later that evening: a repertoire of Telemann and Mozart. She described the collaboration that would take place between different orchestras for the concert, and the compromises required to make that work.

Simone spoke of more than just music and her professional life; we also chatted about her daughter, her love of food (she enjoys cooking), the books she reads (thrillers!) and her weakness for shoe shopping. The interview lasted well over an hour, and by the end of it, I had become utterly enthralled by her personality. Brimming with sincerity, she is genuine and generous. I could not wait to experience her music live at the concert that evening.

Salle Gaveau is a wonderful venue for intimate concerts, a cosy place that invites the audience to feel close to the artists. The evening opened with Telemann’s ‘Ino’, which I found quite interesting, this being the first time I had ever heard this cantata performed live. Simone sang marvellously and with great technique, but for some reason, I got the impression that she wasn’t entirely herself.

The second part of the evening featured Mozart, and it was then that the rocker queen of the Youtube clips emerged. Her rendition of Giunia’s ‘Ah, se in crudel periglio’ from Lucio Silla was an unimaginable delight. She delivered the famous aria almost effortlessly, despite its renowned level of difficulty. The connection between Simone and the audience was palpable; one’s arms felt almost a temptation to embrace her as she sang. The music burst from her heart, her mind, her whole being. She was one with it, enrapturing us throughout with the compelling power of her voice, her passion and her unique charisma. By the end of the song, everyone in Salle Gaveau was on their feet, ecstatic with her performance and craving more, and Simone did not disappoint. She was in fact extremely generous and delivered three encores – the last, ‘Lili Marleen’, without accompaniment. This is a famous love song based on a poem by Hans Leip (who famously combined the names of his two mistresses in its title). In Simone’s languid singing, we were moved by the sadness, loneliness and nostalgia of love. It was by far the best performance of ‘Lili Marleen’ I have ever heard. A real gem – just like Simone herself.

This encounter with Simone was definitely the musical highlight of the year for me. I found myself falling in love with Simone the artist, as well as Simone the person.

Related videos:
Simone Kermes – Hasse: ‘Come nave in mezzo all’onde’
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Simone Kermes sings Kurt Weill
I wish she had been in Madrid! My Alabama experience would have been a completely different one!
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Simone Kermes – La farfaletta audace (Amor Profano)
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Photo credit: omm.de

Alabama Song

Tracy — Sat, 13 Nov 2010 16:01:33 +0000

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.

Although I am a devoted lover of Baroque music and open to the Romantic era, I have generally been hesitant when it comes to 20th century music. But with age came a greater degree of open-mindedness, and I have since become more willing to experience new melodies.

The ‘Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny’ is definitely a very controversial opera by virtue of its storyline and libretto as well as its music. A mixture of classical, rag, jazz and atonal, it was not easy for me to accept, but interesting enough to capture my full attention.

The cast was of very average quality, so I will not be elaborating on any artist as I lack the inspiration to do so. However, special mention must go to the young Spanish conductor Pablo Heras-Casado, who was a real pleasure to watch. Yes, he remained largely out of sight in the conductor’s alcove with the orchestra, but his ardour, enthusiasm and dedication were such that he was singing along with the cast. He threw himself into the music with passion, to all intents and purposes playing the lead of the opera.

I spent the whole evening watching him delve into the music. I don’t think I was seduced by the score (yet), nor do I feel ready for a similar experience any time soon. However, I will definitely return for more of Heras-Casado, whatever he may be conducting.

Related videos:

Pablo Heras-Casado: Holst – The Planets
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Mahagonny at the Teatro Real
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

David Bowie: Alabama Song
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Madrid

I visited Madrid many times in my ‘previous life’. Unfortunately, it was always for business, and never for longer than 24 hours. But that was of little consequence, since I was not particularly fond of the city, knowing little of it. I preferred Barcelona, which I found more buoyant, sensuous and eclectic. This time, I had the opportunity to stay longer and explore. I visited a number of museums and came to appreciate the Madrilenos for their elegance, culture and refinement.

We stayed at the Santo Mauro, a charming boutique hotel located in the city centre. It had a beautiful garden in which we enjoyed drinks under the warm autumn sun, away from the busy traffic.

On the day we arrived, we visited the famous Prado museum, which was too big for my tastes – certainly too culturally intense to absorb all at once. This is a place I need at least a week to truly enjoy and digest, preferably unencumbered by jetlag. On the other hand, I had a wonderful time at the Thyssen-Bornemisza museum. Despite its much smaller scale, it was very interesting, holding among its amazing collection a few gems that are not to be missed.

According to many of my friends, Madrid is a good place to shop. Its prices are cheaper than other European capitals, and many local designers are worth a visit. Since I have been trained to travel light, meaning I wash and reuse and refrain from shopping, I tend to buy only the most indispensable items or the absolute must-haves. And in Madrid, as in any other Spanish city, Pata Negra ham from the black Iberian pig is definitely the one and only treasure to take home. These free-range pigs are reared on a special exercise routine and diet, resulting in a delicious flavour and a delicate texture that almost melts in your mouth.

There are too many good and interesting restaurants in Madrid for me to do proper justice to them all during my short stay. Most gourmet guides will frequently recommend restaurants run by disciples of the celebrated Ferran Adrià. Adrià himself is the god of the molecular cuisine and the man behind the famous El Bulli restaurant, which has a waiting list several years long. In fact, I was very lucky to have lunched at El Bulli twice. One meal took well over four hours, and although I was intrigued, surprised and amused by the fare, I failed to be wowed by the taste. Personally, I prefer something more down to earth that directly excites my tongue rather than my brain.

Anyway, I did visit the restaurant of one of Ferran’s disciples, which received two Michelin stars. However, I was less than impressed. There were several other restaurants I preferred, which particularly stood out in my mind. One was the El Parraguas, which we visited as a party of four. We ordered four different starters, entrées and desserts, and I dug into all of the dishes, which I must say were equally excellent. I still have a profound memory of the seasonal mushrooms cooked in foie gras jus – not exactly what I’d call light, but worth every single ounce you might gain.

O’Pazo is an excellent seafood restaurant and another of my favourites. I went for lunch and was one of the very few female patrons, as most of the other tables were occupied by serious looking businessmen entertaining their clients. As a result, the atmosphere was severe and a touch intimidating. I treated myself to two delicacies only available in Spain: the tantalising and exceptional angulas, which are baby eels fried in olive oil with garlic; and percebes, a repulsive looking crustacean (also known as a goose barnacle), which is difficult to eat but so succulent.

Lastly, we held a big lunch party with a table of well over 12 at the Mesón Cinco Jotas, positively overrunning the little tapas bar. The assortment of jamon, croquettes, cold cuts and salads were simple and delicious, all washed down with several bottles of Cava, a Spanish sparkling wine, as well as red and white wine. It was a delightful place for a casual meal à la bonne franquette.

I will definitely return to Madrid, not only to explore its culture and music further, but also to discover more of the local dining scene.

Photo credits: ddr-im-www.de, www2.kah-bonn.de

The Amazing Shen Yang

Tracy — Thu, 09 Sep 2010 16:01:04 +0000

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.

The Gala Concert featured four high-profile Chinese opera singers who performed a medley of well-known arias, accompanied by the Hong Kong Philharmonic Orchestra, who also delivered several of the most renowned orchestral opera pieces. The HKPO has definitely gained a higher level of maturity, having improved greatly under the leadership of Edo de Waart.

The best part of the concert was probably the beautiful Cavalleria rusticana by Pietro Mascagni. The HKPO succeeded in injecting extra colour and enthusiasm into this popular and well-known melody, producing a particularly moving rendition. The ballet music from Charles Gounod’s Faust was delicately executed, although some parts lacked depth. Overall however, it was an enjoyable performance.

For me, the weakest link among the four opera singers was probably the mezzo-soprano Ning Liang. In Parto, ma tu, ben mio from Mozart’s La clemenza di Tito, her voice had yet to warm up, which left her struggling to reach the higher notes and rendering shaky vibratos. She was better in Habanera from Bizet’s Carmen, which she sang with brio and an attempt at playfulness. However, she was still unable to convey the primal sensuality that is characteristic of Carmen.

Warren Mok, the only artist from Hong Kong, passionately delivered Puccini’s famous E lucevan le stelle from Tosca and Nessun dorma! from Turandot, and was greeted with enthusiasm by the audience. Warren has good technique and charismatic stage presence, but unfortunately not a great voice. This was evident in the Trio from Faust, where his control was uneven. However, it must be said that his passion, intensity and dedication definitely deserve the warm acclaim he received from the public.

Soprano Liping Zhang was technically outstanding in her performance of Song to the Moon from Dvořák’s Rusalka and Vissi d’arte from Tosca. She was the leading lady of the opera Xi Shi, which I attended early this year in Beijing. Her beautiful voice was once again perfectly controlled, but perhaps too much so, as the songs were delivered with a lack of feeling. Moreover, in the Trio from Faust, she faced the audience the entire time, sparing few glances at her partner, Warren Mok.

Finally, the pièce de résistance: Shen Yang. A wonderful young bass-baritone full of energy, he has the voice, technique, control, sense of drama and stage presence; he’s got everything. He was awesome!

His rendition of Madamina, il catalogo è questo from Don Giovanni was a delight, and Vous qui faites l’endormie from Faust was a pure marvel. Young in age but mature in musicality, Shen Yang is captivating and his performance magical. This is an extraordinary artist destined for a great career.

It was very exciting to see Chinese artists performing and excelling in western opera, more so with the younger generation. Talents such as Shen Yang promise to achieve prominent presence in international opera houses.

The ladies need to let their hair down, relax a bit and work their minds and hearts into the cast, because music and opera are not only about execution; the interpretation is even more important.

Related videos:

Shen Yang: Rachmaninov – Cavatina from Aleko

Pietro Mascagni: Cavalleria rusticana, Intermezzo
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Warren Mok – Nessun Dorma from Turandot
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Liping Zhang – Visse d’arte
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Photo credit: telegraph.co.uk

Festival International d'Opéra Baroque de Beaune

Tracy — Thu, 08 Jul 2010 17:39:28 +0000

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.

The programme began with the overture of Mozart’s “The Magic Flute”, followed by his Symphony No. 31. These well-known pieces were rendered more striking by the fantastic accoustics of the church. Two more performances followed: Rigel’s hiérodrame, “La Sortie d’Egypte” and Mozart’s incidental music written for the play “Thamos, König in Ägypten”. The productions were stripped of all theatrics, down to the core element: music. No costumes, no stage props, no acting. I quickly understood how they had catered to the older audience. I perhaps lack the musical inclination and appreciation to give a proper account of the quality of the performances, but I can say that I thought the singers were, well, good. The choir especially sounded excellent, with the harmonies reverberating around the church, although this meant that it was sometimes difficult to hear what they were singing, but this is a minor point as it wasn’t in English anyway.

It is with exasperation tinged with grudging gratitude that I acknowledge my mother’s constant attempts to enrich my otherwise culture-sparse life. While you can probably tell from this recounting of the concert that I am in no way qualified to give a useful review, I can say that I listened to some fine music in a beautiful church. Maybe this will lead to a future passion of classical music, or maybe it won’t (more likely). But if it means I am a little more cultured, and I make my mother a little happier, then sure, I recommend this festival.

Related video:

Mozart – Thamos, König in Ägypten
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Beaune and Burgandy

Beaune, home of the Festival International d’Opéra Baroque, is small. Walking around its perimeter would take, at most, several hours. There are a few attractions: l’Hôtel-Dieu, Notre Dame, the vineyards… Otherwise, take Beaune at face value and stroll through the marketplace and soak up the simple pleasures of being in a charming French town. There are many bistros serving up the local specialties such as bœuf bourguignon and œufs en meurette, but after a few meals the Burgundy-heavy sauce becomes repetitive. I therefore would not recommend spending more than two or three days in Beaune, unless you plan on drinking copious amounts of fine Burgundy wine and promptly forgetting that you have already visited the hospice. My family and I did not do this, and consequently we were prepared to leave after one day.

The way in which we travelled to Beaune is much more worthy of note. French Country Waterways has a fleet of luxury hotel barges which cruise down the canals and rivers of France. Horizon II, the boat upon which we cruised down the canal of central Burgundy, is a spacious barge with a decadently long sundeck and four staterooms to accommodate eight passengers. The barge travels at a very slow pace, such that it is easily overtaken by a leisurely jog. It generally cruises for several hours a day, giving passengers the opportunity to walk or cycle (or whatever, really) alongside the barge. Unlike the view from a large luxury cruise liner, which is mostly one of infinite ocean, the view from the barge is one of an unfurling tableau of French countryside.

The talented and innovative chef on board did his best to ignore any claims of watching waistlines and counting calories, and we were helpless to resist. The fact that three different French cheeses were served at every meal helped none (I’m a sucker for cheese). Lunch was typically a buffet, consisting of a light buffet of salads with surprising combinations of fruits, nuts and leaves, accompanied by an unconventional dressing such as tarragon or apple cider. The flavours met in an unexpected but simple and tasty union which left you wondering why you had never thought of that particular combination yourself. Dinner was always spectacular, three exquisitely thought-out courses to rival the best Michelin-starred restaurants. Even the simplest of dishes were well executed with small but significant touches which made the world of difference. Our initial doubts of having all our meals on board soon evaporated and we looked forward to every chef’s creation.

Every day there was a sightseeing opportunity scheduled in a nearby destination. We visited the town of Noyers, considered one of the most beautiful villages in France, full of bustling energy and cordiality. The château of Ancy-le-Franc was a veritable palace, with countless rooms beautifully restored. We toured the 18th century forge of Buffon, brimming with history and innovation. One of the most beautiful sights for me was the Abbaye de Fontenay, a former abbey with its original archways, cloisters, forges and gardens.

All in all, this was a highly enjoyable week, with just the right amount of sightseeing to keep from being boring, but not too much that it was stressful or tiring. The food was superb, the crew friendly, the service personal. If you need a break from fast-paced life, spend a week on a barge with fantastic food, relaxing seclusion and great destinations.

Photo credits: members.virtualtourist.com, en.wikipedia.org

Pierrot Lunaire

Interlude — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 22:00:48 +0000

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.

Schoenberg’s atonal work was composed between March and July 1912. From an initial piano accompaniment, Schoenberg gradually enlarged the piece to include a mixed ensemble of five players: a pianist, a flautist (doubling on the piccolo), a clarinettist (doubling on the bass clarinet), a violinist (doubling on the viola) and a cellist. These five musicians made up the reduced orchestra, and once the performance began, it became immediately obvious why a conductor was necessary. The notes and the harmony (or non-harmony) make it difficult for the performers to synchronise between themselves. To be honest, even if they had not, it is doubtful whether one could have spotted the difference, unless that someone was a Schoenberg fan who knew the complete score off by heart.

When the singing started, I was shocked by the strangeness of the tones. The young Tasmanian soprano Allison Bell is certainly a very talented artist and excelled in her performance, but the music with its high pitches travelling upwards and downwards reminded me of Japanese Noh mixed with a twist of Beijing opera. This strange sortie of unnameable noise invaded my senses. It was, for me, an experience of aggression.

The second part of the concert was again more Schoenberg and Strauss. Even though Strauss’ Four Last Songs are themselves wonderful pieces, my mood was shattered and I found it difficult to concentrate on the music; I just wanted to leave and find some quiet and rest.

I will say this: the experience was interesting. But there will definitely be no repeat performance.

Related videos:

Richard Strauss – Capriccio: Prelude for string sextet
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Schoenberg – Pierrot Lunaire
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Sally Burgess – Pierrot Lunaire, 8. Nacht (Passacaglia) (Night)
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Photo credits: wikimedia.org

Mon ami Piotr

Interlude — Thu, 10 Jun 2010 22:00:20 +0000

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.

The performance had of course been a pure marvel.

Following the concert I bought several CDs and queued up for an autograph, looking forward to meeting my idol face-to-face. Those were the pre-Interlude days, before I came under the ‘Classical music website’ umbrella, so I had no good excuse to linger after the signing, nor could I casually throw out a “Hi handsome, how about a drink?” And so, under the gaze of the people waiting behind me, I picked up my CDs and left for my hotel empty handed, so to speak.

Amongst the CDs I brought home that evening, my passion was not only for the Bach Partitas, but also the Diabelli Variations. Piotr’s performance was original, riveting and fascinating. For the first time, the Variations were infused with all the colour and dimension they deserve. From a simple and sometimes boring piece when performed by other pianists, Piotr unearthed a gem, delicate and intricate, revealing hidden facets.

I joined the Queen Elisabeth Musical Voyage a year later, and the highlight for me was an entire week with Piotr, who was on board as a guest artist.

When you spend a week on a cruise ship, sharing meals, lounging around the pool, or attending concerts with the same group of passengers, it is quite easy to launch into conversation and reach the “how about a drink together” stage. In fact, not only did we have drinks, we also did lunch, dinner and more drinks!

Piotr gave only two concerts unfortunately, which was definitely not enough. I still have a lasting memory of the recital in which he performed Bach’s English Suite No. 6 and Beethoven’s Sonata No. 31. It was mesmerising. He was my chocolate cake among the veggies. I do eat veggies, mind you, but I have a passion for chocolate.

The best part is that we remained in contact after the Musical Voyage. Piotr has a charming personality – simple, humble, straightforward and extremely intelligent, all topped with a great sense of humour. He is also an aesthete, which means he is demanding, not only with others, but also with himself.

A bon vivant and a fine gourmet, Piotr made each evening a pure delight. He was the perfect companion with whom to share ideas about music, travel and life, while savouring delicious food with a good bottle of wine.

As a pianist, he occupies a special place in my mind, and as a friend, he occupies a special place in my heart.

Related videos:

J. S. Bach – Partita No. 1 in B-flat major BWV 825 – Sarabande, Menuet I + II, Giga
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Unquiet traveller
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

The Diabelli Variations
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Le French May

Interlude — Thu, 03 Jun 2010 22:00:37 +0000

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.

For his first concert in Hong Kong, he teamed up with the Hong Kong Sinfonietta to perform Camille Saint-Saëns’ Violin Concerto No. 3 in B minor. Of the three violin concertos that Saint-Saëns composed, No. 3 is probably the least known. It was written in 1880, premiered by and dedicated to Pablo de Sarasate.

The first movement carries an almost gypsy-like theme, matching Nemanja’s dramatic looks. Although the music was delivered in a light-hearted manner, the passion underlying our soloist was keenly felt throughout the concerto. Nemanja fused with the whole orchestra, smiling, flirting and exchanging glances with almost every musician, from strings, to winds and ending on numerous occasions with the first violin. He became the soul of the orchestra, and practically led them.

It was a wonderful performance. Nemanja played stylishly, with a high degree of technical control and an intense expression. For the Encore, he delivered Les Furies by Eugène Ysaÿe, a highly impressive piece with unusual sounds and acrobatic notes.

Following the concert, I went to the autograph session with my newly acquired CD—Les Trilles du Diable—but Nemanja unfortunately did not have time for a chat. I had hoped to learn more about this young man who could play both Bach and Saint-Saëns in such an intriguing and unique manner. Who is he? What is his inspiration? How does he go from Bach to Saint-Saëns?

Such an interesting character, with such a sublime sense of fashion—great suits for concerts followed by cool, casual outfits afterwards—stylish and thoroughly outstanding (this is my inner ex-fashion professional talking…). He is definitely an artist to be followed.