Brett Dean (b. 1961), born and raised in Brisbane, took up composing during his 14-year tenure as violist with the Berlin Phil. In 2000, he returned to Australia where his appointments have included Artistic Director of ANAM and curating the Sydney and Melbourne Festivals. Shadow Music brings together works for various permutations of chamber orchestra, in addition to an arrangement for flute, clarinet and string orchestra of the (third) Adagio molto e mesto movement of Beethoven’s first Razumovsky Quartet. Dean’s arrangement is approximately half the length of Beethoven’s, and beautifully expands the harmonic intensity of the already symphonic original. This segues into Testament, a reference to the famous Heiligenstadt Testament, written by Beethoven in 1802, in which he despaired of his increasing deafness. These two works form a complementary whole, the latter a meditation on Beethoven’s inner world of tinnitus and chaos. Etüdenfest (2000) is a gloriously hectic melange of string exercises with piano evoking the panic of practice rooms as exam time approaches. Shadow Music is elusive and at various turns dark, veiled, ghostly and diaphanous; Short Stories are a series of five interludes with literary allusions. This is nuanced, complex and fantastically assured music by a renowned Australian…

This is a stunner. Weilerstein manages to make this difficult music absolutely riveting. If I had to point to a collaboration between orchestra and soloist that was as close to ideal as humanly possible, then this would be it. The cellist herself is at the top of her profession. The Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra (described by one English critic as “super-elite”) is in red-hot form, as is Spanish conductor Pablo Heras-Casado,  currently Principal Conductor of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s, but who has also performed at the Met and with the Vienna Philharmonic.  These concertos are among the most important 20th-century repertoire for the instrument, and Weilerstein’s playing seems to convey that. The first concerto’s Moderato hovers between wonder and melancholy, sentiments not uncommon in Shostakovich’s music. Later we hear the composer’s own motif, DSCH, which he employed often, perhaps as a badge of defiance in the face of Stalin’s grotesque tyranny.  The second concerto reverses the traditional structure. It begins with a long (nearly 15 minutes) Largo, followed by an Allegretto which would test the chops of any cellist. Weilerstein makes it sound as if it was written for her, as indeed many more recent large-scale works have been….

Hot Aussie HIPsters bring out Joseph Haydn’s genial side.

Katie Mitchell is a director who divides her audience. Some champion the probing psychology of her shows, their meticulous, realist visuals, their staunchly feminist agenda. Others balk at what they see as a prefab, one-size-fits-all approach. But whatever your camp, when Mitchell finds a show to suit her inherent sympathies the result is unassailable. This Alcina, originally staged for the 2015 Aix-en-Provence Festival, is the director at her very best – a marriage of concept and psychology so instinctive, so exhilarating in its invention, that it’s impossible to imagine it bettered. Unpacking the limits of power in all its forms – love, magic, violence, authority – Handel’s opera is one of his most probing emotional portraits, and a piece ripe for Mitchell’s gaze. She pulls back the curtain on Alcina’s sorcery, revealing the blunt, unpalatable mechanisms behind her illusions, showing us the woman not the witch. Chloe Lamford’s designs place us in a decaying doll’s house of a set. Rooms are spread over two floors, but only the central salon is fully lit. Within this magic space Alcina (Patricia Petibon) and Morgana (Anna Prohaska) seduce and subdue their lovers, glorying in their youth and beauty. But as soon as they…

Mozart’s Abduction from the Seraglio presents an Enlightenment-eye view of the Orient filled with the curiosity of the West for a culture that had receded from warlike enemy to mesmerising neighbour. David McVicar’s genius is to set it in period in this superbly acted production from Glyndebourne. Vicki Mortimer’s warm, detailed designs capture the lure of the Ottoman Empire while McVicar explores the tension between the Pasha (a convert to Islam – a fact usually cut) and Europeans whose ideas of freedom are challenged by a seductive captivity. Konstanze must choose between a sexy, decent man and a contracted marriage to a bit of a stuffed shirt. The dangerous reality of cultural incompatibility is played out between the feisty Blonde and the unmannerly Osmin. Robin Ticciati conducts the period Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment with style and verve. Sally Matthews is a noble-voiced Kostanze, secure of coloratura. Martern aller Arten, set dangerously in the Pasha’s bedroom is electric. Edgaras Montvidas is slightly open-toned as Belmonte, but captures the prig who thinks shouting makes foreigners understand him better. Tobias Kehrer is a magnificent Osmin, a vocal dead ringer for Gottlob Frick, perfectly matched by Mari Eriksmoen’s cheeky Blonde. Franck Saurel…

Jeremy Rose read The Fatal Shore, Robert Hughes’ seminal account of Australia’s invasion, colonisation and transformation into a penal colony, in 2012. He was struck by the brutal reality faced by prisoners shipped over from the continent, as well as by the Indigenous population, and eventually found a way to engage with that dark history through music. Iron in the Blood is a series of scenes performed by Rose and the Earshift Orchestra, underscoring narrated excerpts of Hughes’ work, read by actors Philip Quast and William Zappa. The excerpts give an overview of the struggle of the convicts, as well as the cruelty of British officers and lawmakers. The descriptions of the treatment of the original population – particularly the genocide of Tasmania’s Aboriginals – are harrowing. Musically, Iron in the Blood is an eclectic experience. Tracks draw on more conventional jazz idioms, while art music traits are present too, including sonic landscapes with dislocated, chromatic harmonies and extended instrumental effects. Some of the most intriguing features are the extended, frantic, improvised solos, often underscoring the most disturbing parts of the narration.   Individual performances and sound are excellent, and the narrations are enjoyable both on a theatrical and educational…

Despite a sprawling plot that offers precious little in the way of hope for humanity, La Forza del Destino is blessed with one of Verdi’s finest scores. Martin Kušej’s psychologically complex staging for Bavarian State Opera won’t appeal if you’re looking for a chocolate-box production, but it packs a punch and makes much sense of this rambling Spanish Revengers Tragedy.  Set in a world of scrappy urban warfare, the kind haunting many a modern war zone, it conveys a constant threat of terrorist atrocities. The direction has its unrealistic moments – people leap, roll and slide on and off the family dining table like nobody’s business, while simulated sex and Verdi don’t always gel – but its visceral nature tallies with the opera’s grim themes of honour and revenge, and  graphic imagery of modern-day massacres will strikes chords. Musical standards are very high indeed, with Asher Fisch leading a dramatically punchy reading of the score. Kaufmann is thrilling, yet subtle as Don Alvaro and, despite a silly wig, puts in a convincing portrayal. Anja Harteros is a perfect, neurotic Leonora, voice rich and text imaginatively handled. Ludovic Tézier is a robust Don Carlo, Vitalij Kowaljow plays powerful double roles, and…

Paint Your Wagon is one of those shows that, despite the fine craft of its lyricist and composer, proved difficult to revive thanks to a less than compelling book. A morality play set in gold-rush California, grizzly Ben Rumson and his daughter Jennifer strike gold and found Rumson Town attracting a horde of roughnecks. Jennifer falls for Mexican Julio Valvera so is packed off east for schooling, but not before Dad purchases a Mormon’s spare wife. Jennifer returns but the gold has run out so she and Julio settle down to farm the ravaged land.  The show opened in 1951 but ran for a disappointing 289 performances, doing better in the 1953 West End run with 477. I Talk To The Trees and They Call The Wind Maria became popular hits. Years later Hollywood took a sledgehammer to the book, dropped several fine songs with replacements penned by André Previn and let loose Josh Logan who, despite his Broadway origins, had a knack for spoiling fine shows on celluloid. The result was an overwrought mess at a somnolent 158 minutes with Lee Marvin’s Ben Rumson a drunken buffoon mugging for the camera and growling out Wand’rin Star.  A radical ‘revisal’…

The music of the Medieval and early Renaissance is a startlingly unfamiliar language for modern ears with its strange clashes and cadences. Thanks to the tireless work of scholars, specialist performers and boutique labels, nowadays we can immerse ourselves in order to become sufficiently ‘fluent’, yet one can only wonder at what emotional responses this music must have triggered in the average 14th-century listener. Next to the big names of the Burgundian School, Arnold and Hugo de Lantins were second league but their works pop up in various codices alongside Dufay and Binchois. Little is known about Arnold but even less about Hugo – we’re not even sure they were brothers – but they were both clerics in the diocese of Liège. The first evidence of their work appeared in Northern Italy. This recital by Le Miroir De Musique, a superb ensemble of four singers and six instrumentalists, offers a lovely programme of secular chansons and rondeaux interspersed with instrumental arrangements.  The vocalists here strike an ideal balance of disciplined purity with an unforced, open vocal delivery. Clara Coutouly is especially enchanting in her solo turns Hélas amour, que ce qu’endure and Puis que je voy, belle, que ne m’aimes;…

Listening to Alonso Lobo’s music it is easy to understand why the great Victoria considered him an equal. Having trained under Francisco Guerrero at the cathedral of Seville, Lobo was appointed as his teacher’s assistant in 1591, but was two years later appointed to the prestigious post of maestro de capilla at Toledo cathedral. There he remained for a successful decade before returning to Seville in 1604 where he worked until his death in 1617. This impressive programme begins with Guerrero’s Easter motet, Maria Magdalena et Altera Maria followed by Lobo’s own Missa Maria Magdalene. Lobo’s homage to his master is also sumptuously cast in six parts and is full of wonderfully awe-inspiring moments, such as the Et Incarnatus and the Osanna in Excelsis. Such was Lobo’s fame his music was often copied, finding its way to other countries and even to the New World. This is particularly fortunate in the case of his Lamentations. Two sets were written, but only one is performable, and that in a manuscript from 1772. Written to be performed in a darkened church during Holy Week, each lamentation begins with a letter of the Hebrew alphabet, which is set with flowing melismas, creating a mood…

Much of his compositional output was written prior to a heart attack in 1918 and remained unperformed until after his death, but American modernist Charles Ives is now well-established as a significant and pioneering composer. Ives’ father George was a bandmaster during the American Civil War, and taught his musically-inclined son skills that included playing the piano in one key while singing in another.  In part, as a consequence of this, Ives’ works explored polyrhythms, dissonance, atonality, quarter-tones and other techniques that were to become international staples of experimentalism. Another of Ives’ enduring preoccupations was traditional American hymns and songs, references to which can be heard at various junctures in his Four String Quartets, composed between 1910 and 1917.  There have been regular releases of the set since the premiere recording by Rafael Druian (violin) and John Simms (piano) in 1957, but only a handful are currently in print. Welcome then, is this new recording from French violinist Annabelle Berthomé-Reynolds and Belgian pianist Dirk Herten. Berthomé-Reynolds brings a delicate lyricism to these intricate but very accessible works, and the interplay between violin and piano is unified and sympathetic. Ives veers from rousing sprightliness to dreamy pastoral (sometimes within a few…

Louis XIV was 15 in 1653 when he took part in a lavishly staged ballet performed on seven evenings in the Salle du Petit-Bourbon at the Louvre Palace. It was engineered by his ministers as a clever piece of political propaganda to cement the divine authority of the monarch along with a centralised government after the unrest of the Fronde rebellions. The spectacle was remembered for decades after and gave Louis his title of “the Sun King”; the four “watches” of the night with some sinister post-midnight revelries culminated in a glorious dawn with the King strutting his stuff in a costume of glittering celestial glory. Sébastien Daucé has spent three years recreating this work from fragments and disparate sources; a project of great scholarship, integrity and imagination. Amongst the anonymous dance tunes, and those of Jean de Cambefort, Daucé has interpolated airs du cour by Michel Lambert and Antoine Boësset, while scenes from Cavalli’s Ercole Amante and Rossi’s Orfeo have been added to remind us of the dominance of Italian opera in Parisian theatres before Lully. Ensemble Corespondances are superb exponents of this rarefied repertoire and the expansive forces of 18 voices and 33 instrumentalists… Continue reading Get unlimited…