First Night of the Proms 2009 - Alice Coote

Governments throw money into war and power games, thinking that brings security. Nuts! Bombs, threats and hysteria exacerbate tensions. Music, on the other hand, makes us more human and humane. The Proms reach people all over the world, bringing them together for a while in a kind of international street party, celebrating a shared love of music. That pays long-term dividends. If politicians had any sense they'd realize that the Proms are an amazingly effective force for good. The British taxpayers pay, but everyone benefits in the wider scheme of things.

So the First Night of the Proms is a declaration of goodwill. Stravinsky's Fireworks, op 4 is short, but it's the acorn from which the mighty oak of modern music grew. It led to Stravinsky being commissioned to write what was to become The Firebird, and later still the The Rite of Spring and the revolutionary effect that had on art, dance and music. Even the carnage of the First World War could not stem the tide of 20th century ideas.

Chabrier's Ode to Music followed. Ailish Tynan has been on many Young Artist programmes, many of which were BBC funded and promoted. She's proof that such sponsorship nurtures performers. It must be nerve wracking to sing before an audience of millions, so Jiřì Bělohlávek led the BBC Symphony Orchestra sensitively.

Tchaikovsky's Piano Concerto no 3 is another acorn, but one which didn't grow past its allegro brillante movement. Yet it's interesting because it shows how full of life the composer was just before he died. No "curse of the Pathétique", then. It was a surprising choice for something as high profile as the First Night of the Proms, when everyone's in a party mood and the audience is happy enough with flashy crowd pleasers. But in a quirky way, that's why it worked. By picking this Cinderella for the start of his series of Tchaikovsky at this year's Proms, perhaps Stephen Hough is telling us to pay attention rather than fall back on convention? The Proms may appear safe, but there's usually enough challenge for those prepared to venture.

Back to fireworks with Katia and Marielle Labèque. The First Night of the Proms is always televised, so visually it helps to have performers who look as well as sound stunning. Poulenc's Concerto in D minor for two pianos is suitably incandescent, particularly when played so fluidly. It's a three-part drama, an interplay between two different pianists and the orchestra, with individual instruments playing smaller but important roles. Moods swing between warmly tender and jazzy downbeat, from elegant serenity to uninhibited joy. One piano has a dialogue with a violin, one piano produces a series of single notes, taken up by the orchestra and then the second piano. For an encore, the Labèques then played four hands on one keyboard, a lively polka by Berio – not Luciano but his grandfather. Another Proms surprise!

International as the Proms may be, they symbolize Britishness to many, so it was good to hear Elgar, in sunny mood. In the South (Alassio) was played with joyous élan, Bělohlávek keeping the pace with a light touch.

The heart of this Prom, though, wasn't the cheerful pieces but Brahms's devastating Rhapsody for Contralto, the Alto Rhapsody. This was a wonderful performance. Few singers can produce the intensity Alice Coote can bring, without sacrificing dignity and compassion.

Goethe's poem depicts an outcast who sets off away into the wilderness. From a brooding otchestral introduction, Coote's voice projects into the vastness of the Royal Albert Hall as if it were a recital room. It's significant, for the poem pits an individual against overwhelming forces. Die Ode verschlingt ihn goes the text (the desert engulfs him). Coote breathed into the "o" in Ode so it rang resonantly, yet hinting subtly of hollowness. Then she extended "verschlingt", stretching it to evoke distance and then oblivion.

There's something obsessive about this poem. The disappointed man "furtively feeds on his own worth in unfulfilling self-love" (zehrt er heimlich auf seinen eignen Wert in ung'nügender Selbstsucht) Coote brought out the repeated sounds "seinen" and "eignen". The protagonist is going round in circles, grinding himself down. Perhaps that's why the poem appealed to Brahms? Ostensibly he was upset that he'd been jilted by Clara Schumann's daughter but there's no evidence that he had a real relationship with her, or indeed with any woman, Clara included. Even more so than the German Requiem this is Brahms's Winterreise, a foretaste of the Vier ernst Gesange.

Perhaps that's why the resolution in this piece comes from the way Brahms integrates the soloist, chorus and orchestra. A characteristic Brahmsian flute melody appears, at first tentatively, then grows in power, joined in the final strophe with the choir of men's voices: no longer is the mezzo really alone, for the Vater der Liebe (father of love, possibly God) has shown compassion, revealing the thousand springs that can help the thirsty in the desert. "die tausend Quellen neben dem Durstenden in der Wüste." Coote rounds the vowel sounds in Wüste so the word seems to grow with fulfilment.

It's been 40 years since the Alto Rhapsody has been heard at the Proms. Chances are that few will be able to top Alice Coote's performance tonight. Listen to it on BBC Radio 3's "listen again" facility for the next 7 days. PLEASE SEE the more fformal version of this post in Opera Today, HERE.

Coote came to prominence when she won the Kathleen Ferrier Prize a few years ago. Ferrier's version is legendary, but Coote's delivery is firmer and stronger. Clips of Ferrier singing with Clemens Kraus are easily available anywhere, so I've chosen two more unusual ones. The first has Brigitte Fassbender singing with the Czech Philharmonic in Prague : maybe Bělohlàvek knows the place and even the performance. In any case he's a much better conductor than the rather sentimental Sinopoli. It's a good clip, though, for Fassbender herself. It was Fassbender who nurtured Alice Coote and brought her back to song after a traumatic car accident which could have ended her career.

The second clip is Marian Anderson, in commemoration. Sound quality is dodgy because it's recorded in 1939. But the committment and dignity with which Anderson sings! Alice Coote is her spiritual heir. Track down Part 1 as well, because it is such a good performance and the video is good, too. Click on the label "Proms 2009" at right for more reports. There will be lots.

Handel Messsiah with a difference Cambridge

This Handel's Messiah was different because it was relayed live from King's College Chapel in Cambridge, all round the world on sim broadcast.

It was an unusual experience, knowing that at that very moment, thousands of others were listening too. With opera or whatever it's not a big deal but the Messiah was written as shared communion. This communal context is fundamental to its meaning. It will never be quite the same on rebroadcast or DVD.

The performance was excellent as you'd expect from the King's College Chapel Choir, the Academy of Ancient Music and Stephen Cleobury. Soloists were good too - Alice Coote, Ailish Tynan, Matthew Rose and Allan Clayton. Wonderful playing, but what will make this performance a classic was Coote's singing.

Coote's was perhaps the most deeply felt, dramatic "He was despised" I've ever heard. Way out of the normal, polite realm of church singing. "He was despised, ...rejected.....a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief". This was stark, expressive, like Lieder writ large. Suddenly all the centuries of familiarity melted away. Instead we heard Jesus described as an ordinary human being suffering, but with dignity. Even if you get just one track on download this will be the one to get, perhaps Coote's finest moment, and she's had many. It's immortal.

You certainly don't need to be a Christian to appreciate this Messiah. Handel was writing a universal human story, albeit with an unusual plot. "Why do the nations rise so furiously together ?" sings the bass. "Let us break their bond asunder" sing the choir. Earthly power will be dashed to pieces like on a potter's wheel. Then the magnificent Hallelujah, Hallelujah, which has resonated through centuries. The sheer gloriousness of this chorus lifts the spirits, making you feel that there are good things beyond this world.

Nor is Handel all grand gesture. Suddenly the crowd is gone and the lone soprano sings an intimate melody. "I know that my Redeemer liveth". In the vastness of a cathedral, she's tiny, but her faith is strong. Then the bass sings "We shall not sleep, we shall be changed". He's accompanied, not by massed forces but by a primitive baroque trumpet. Like the soprano, it's fragile. Its power lies in the conviction with which it's played. Then the alto and soprano unite. "O Death, where is thy sting ? O Grave, where is thy Victory ?"

This is why Handel's Messiah has become such an icon. Whatever the flavour of their faith, if any, most people ponder what happens when we die. For what do we endure the sufferings of this earth ? Different cultures, different variations, but the mystery remains. Handel is dealing with universal human dilemmas. This music is extraordinarily powerful on its own terms.

So back to the idea of international, simultaneous broadcast. The BBC does it every year with the Proms, but The Messiah is a celebration of something even deeper than music. The usual commercial tie-ins will of course happen, but let's face it, money facilitates things, and even things like King's College need support. Man may not live by bread alone, but without bread, he can't go far. So there's no point being snottily self righteous about the forthcoming CD, DVD and download releases. This performance was so fresh and direct it will be worth listening to again and again, whenever you need a fix of uplift.

I'd stick to the CD. The main downside of this was the filming. King's College Chapel is a marvel, every bit the equivalent in stone of the Messiah. It would have been a wonderful opportunity to show the building in all its glory. Instead the filming was pretty ordinary, superficial panned shots, little detail, the magnificent vaulted ceiling only shown in brief glimpses. This sort of filming would be fine for a normal Sunday TV broadcast, but such was the significance of this performance surely it could have been done with more insight ? King's College is world heritage, why waste it in this way ? Nor was the filming musically adept. Film needs to enhance music, not distract from it. On the other hand, the lack of sophistication behind the Dean's speech was rather endearing. Despite the magnificence around him, he's a normal guy. Which is what it's all about.

More about King's College Chapel, what it does and why it needs support http://www.kings.cam.ac.uk/chapel/foundation/need.html