Andrew Davis : Tippett Szymanowski Debussy Barbican

Andrew Davis photo: Chris Christodoulou, bBC

Andrew Davis conducted the BBC SO at the Barbican Hall in London. Top billing to Michael Tippett's The Rose Lake, almost exactly a year after Simon Rattle conducted it with the London Symphony Orchestra, with whom it has been associated since its premiere with Colin Davis in 1995. The Rose Lake is a video in music, inspired by Le lac rose in Sénégal, which Tippett visited in 1990.  As the angle of the sun changed, the colours in the landscape changed, a concept that translates well into a study of orchestral colour.  It was "a continuous five part composition, in essence a set of variations .....a song without words for orchestra", as Tippett wrote at the time.  The sections with programmatic titles mix with sections where only tempo gives clue to meaning, the twelve short segments moving forward in sequence, suggesting the passage of time. Dense but lucid layers of sound as beautifully structured as mosaic.  Andrew Davis, though, brings out its descriptive nature. The panoply of marimbas, vibraphone, and xylophone rustled, suggesting breezes, grasses, rushing water. The massed percsussion even suggested "African" sounds, woodwinds and brass calling like wild creatures against a savannah of strings.  In the organic "earth forms" and especially in the bird and bell sounds, The Rose Lake resembles the music of Olivier Messiaen. Thus the logic of programming it with masters of colour and transparency like Symanowski and Debussy.  A pity that Rattle paired it with Mahler Symphony no 10, with which it has almost nothing in common, since Rattle's feel for Szymanowski and Debussy runs very deep indeed, Rattle being one of Szymanowski's modern pioneers.  Rattle would have made the connections more strongly, but Davis presents it on its own  terms, less Messiaen and divine inspiration than tone poem but perfectly valid. 

Szymanowski's Violin Concerto no 1 dates from around 1916, when he was making a creative breakthrough. To quote Jim Samson, the foremost Szymanowski scholar, writing as long ago as 1981, "the orchestra is conceived rather as a reservoir from which may be drawn an infinite variety of timbral combinations....the string body...sub divided into many parts, further characterized by the most delicate combinations of arco and pizzicato, harmonics, sul tasto, sul ponticello and tremolando effects".As Jim Samson said in his book, The Music of Karol Szymanowski (1981), in the Violin Concert no 1 "the formal scheme is totally unique and represents an ingenious solution to the problem of building extended structures without resorting to sonata form". The almost chaotic proliferation of sub groups and themes within the orchestra, contrasted with extended violin cantilenas, soaring high above the orchestra, are so refined and so rarified that they seem to propel the music into new stratospheres, beyond earthly possibilities. Mandelbrot patterns, in music, mathematically precise, yet full of the vigour of natural, organic growth.  Though a contemporary of Debussy, Stravinsky and Bartók, Szymanowski's music defies category and is astonishingly prophetic. No surprise then that Boulez adored him, and made the keynote recording with Christian Tetzlaff and the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra.  I enjoyed Lisa Batiashvili's more romantic approach with Andrew Davis and the BBCSO but to really get the full wonder of the piece you need Tetzlaff and Boulez.  

This concert concluded with Alain Altinoglu's suite on Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande.  Please read more about the background HERE. Nothing whatseover wrong with suites. These days there's ill-informed prejudice against them butn they serve a good purpose. In the case of Pelléas et Mélisande a suite arrangement is perfectly valid, since  it focuses on the orchestral aspects of the opera - Debussy's only opera - presenting it almost as tone poem like La Mer. Thus it can be programmed more readily in the concert hall, bringing it to non-opera audiences. The opera itself  is by no means a typical narrative opera, so this orchestral approach has its merits. 

The Eternal Flame : Jurowski for Armistice Day - Stravinsky, Janáček

Vladimir Jurowski (photo: Vera Zhuraleva, IMG Artists)

Photo: Roger Thomas

"The Eternal Flame", on the eve of Armistice Day with Vladimir Jurowski conducting Debussy Berceuse héroïque, Stravinsky Requiem Canticles and Janáček The Eternal Gospel with Magnus Lindberg Triumpf att finnas till with the London Philharmonic Orcehstra at the Royal Festival Hall, London.  A hundred years ago the guns fell silent. The First World War was a trade war gone global, but now we are faced with an even worse scenario: demagogues so malevolent that they make the warmongers of 1914 -1918 look innocent.  Today, the leaders of France and Germany embraced each other, signifying unity, not war.  Yet all around, there's a whole new tide of extremist nationalism, anti-democratic hysteria fuelled by greed and racism. When populist movements armed with  mind-control technology suppress all opposition, so much for "Lest We Forget".  

Driving through the rainstorm on the way to the South Bank this evening, the Embankment was flooded, so you could hardly make out where the road ended and the river began.  Utter despair. But in Vladimir Jurowski we have a haven of hope. His programmes are always thoughtful, his mind connected to higher ideals and principle.  Unlike politicians and the media who own them.  The concert started with Debussy Berceuse héroïque, premiered in October 1915, commissioned by the Daily Telegraph to show solidarity between the allies. There are quotations from La Brabançonne, the Belgian national anthem, which my partner knows well, with his background in racing bikes. The anthem expresses love (patriotism) but not aggression (nationalism). Thus Debussy set it as a berceuse, a lullaby, for piano. Here we heard the arrangement for orchestra, where harps introduce low voiced strings and winds.  It is ironic that the Daily Telegraph today stands for anti-European jingoism, not solidarity and certainly not civilised restraint.

Magnus Lindberg's music is well known to South Bank regulars - there have even been Lindberg festivals in the past - so I expected much from this world premiere of his Triumpf att finnas till (Triumph to Exist).  It has Lindberg characteristics, like firm structure, its seven sections well characterised, with a reprise of the beginning to form a satisfying canon, an observation worth remembering in context with Stravinsky's Requiem Canticles. The text is a poem by Edith Södergran (1892-1923), a Swedish-speaking Finnish poet,  written in 1916, during the Finnish war of independence, which she herself, living in Karelia, experienced first hand.  "Its meditation on the transcience of life is a defiantly positive  affirmation of the joy of existence" writes Lindberg , "the outpouring of one who refuses to submit to the hopelessness all round her."   Lindberg has written relatively little for voice, so it was interesting to hear how he uses the texts almost like incantation: vowels extended as if each were dotted with strings of umlauts. The performance suffered, though,  because the diction  of theLondon  Philharmonic Choir wasn't up to their usual standards. (They were fine, though, in Stravinsky and Janáček). Perhaps the cause was  the very newness of the piece and lack of rehearsal time :  I suspect it will grow as it matures.

Jurowski's journey through Stravinsky these last few years paid off handsomely with the Requiem Canticles. where the orchestra and choir were joined by soloists Angharad Lyddon and Maxim Mikhailov. Dating from 1966, it is late Stravinsky, but also surprisngly "modern" in the sense of being original.  Based loosely on a Requiem Mass, its seven sections move with deliberate formality, the inner structure sparsely but concisely defined.  The Dies Irae offers some form of emotional release, but otherwise the piece proceeds like a a funeral cortege, so painful that at times sounds fall silent, mirroring a kind of inner desolation.  The Libera me is a call for help without faith in deliverance. Is this a Requiem for a post-apocalyptic world, where there is no hope of redemption ? Given the current political situation, the performance felt unusually harrowing, a tribute to Jurowski's uncompromising clarity of purpose.  The Canticles are framed by a Prelude and a Postlude, both entirely orchestral, with an Interlude in the middle, providing foundation for the segments for voice and chorus which operate with different textures, like the wailing of mourners, though more disciplined.  Details, such as the trumpet calls and bells,  add colour, but only enough to throw the chiaroscuro gloom into relief.  Mikhailov's voice rang out forcefully, filling the hall. The London Philharmonic Chorus were on top form, as they usually are, every syllable well  articulated.

Janáček’s The Eternal Gospel was written around the First World War, when the destruction of the old order seemed imminent. This was a critical point in the Czech struggle for independence. The “Allelujahs!” here aren’t religious, but political,  much in the way the Glagolitic Mass isn't a Christian piece but something far more primeval. In The Eternal Gospel, there is an angel, but one which comes from the End of Time. The poem, by Jaroslav Vrchlický (1858-1912), is a "modern" take on Revelation, based on a 12th-century mystic's vision of the end of time when "wealth, all possessions, gold, jewels and fortune will turn to mire". It's incendiary stuff, attacking the "she-wolf of Rome". It even knocks Jesus, who "only stooped to man". Raising St Francis of Assisi above Christ isn't something a 12th-century monk would or could do. This is clearly Vrchlický's poem, not Joachim di Fiore, but an adaptation. It's uncompromisingly radical, way beyond piety or even nationalism. Janáček, passionately anti-clerical, could spot a cogent bit of blasphemy. The piece also represents a critical point in the composer's development. In 1917, Janáček was poised between his "old" style of writing and the breakthroughs he'd reach with The Diary of One Who Disappeared and what was to follow.

Vsevolod Grivnov sang Joachim of Fiore : a wonderful performance, ringing with conviction.  The high notes are meant to express strain, defeated by the protagonist's visionary fervour,  and are  no demerit whatsoever.  My benchmark is the recording with Benno Blachut, almost beyond compare, but Grivnov is good, holding the piece almost the whole 20 minutes. Andrea Dančová sang the Angel, but she had less to do, because Janáček isn't that interested in the angel, except as justification for the wilder sentiments expressed in the tenor part.  Though Janáček’s The Eternal Gospel is not "about" the 1914-1918 war, and has nothing to do with Armistice Day, its message perhaps transcends such things, reminding us that there are more important concerns than war-mongering, and the shabby non-ethics of populism and hate.  No surprise then that it is a Jurowski favourite, which he has conducted on quite a few occasions. 

Debussy Mélodies : Harmonie du soir

Harmonia Mundi continues its comprehensive series of the works of Claude Debussy with this new 2 CD set of Debussy's songs for voice and piano, Harmonie du soir, featuring two pairs of performers, Sophie Karthäuser and Eugene Asti, with Stéphane Degout and Alain Planès.  Of the hundred Mélodies which Debussy completed, forty are included here, interspersed like refreshments between courses by individual sections from Images oubliées, which Planès included in his recording of Debussy's complete works for piano earlier this year.

Nuit d'étoiles has received so many glorious performances that they would be hard to eclipse, but Karthäuser and Asti give a good account.  In Mandoline, the clarity of Karthäuser's diction and the agility of Asti's, playing makes the song shine.  The two books of Fêtes galantes are divided between the two pairs of performers.  Degout and Planès are impressive in the second set. A wonderful Les Ingénues, which captures the right tone of sardoniuc sensuality, also expressed in Le Faune, who is a more mysterious entity than mere terracotta statue, and Colloque sentimental, where Degout and Planès shape the pauses so well that the silences speak as pointedly as the text.

Stylish performances, too, of the Trois Mélodies  to poems by Paul Verlaine, and Trois chansons de France.  These latter are unusual in Debussy's oeuvre, being settings of Charles d'Orléans and the 17th century poet Tristan L'Hermite.  Two Rondels frame the central song, setting a mysterious mood. "Le temps a laissié son manteau de vent, de froidure et de pluye" sings Degout.  the piano lines trembles, texture upon texture.  The central song is La Grotte, where two lovers wander, near a pond where. "l'onde lutte avec les cailloux, et la lumière avecque l'ombre".  In this pond, Narcicuss drowned, lost in his reflection. The mini cycle ends with desolation. "Pour que Plaisance est moret, ce May, suis vestu de noir".  Written in 1904, these songs reflect something of Pelléas et Mélisande, with their imagery of light and dark, promise and death.  As in the opera, the vocal lines rise and fall, the piano rippling hypnotically around the voice. Degout is one of the great Pelléas interpreters of our time, so the excellence of this set should come as no suprise.  The Trois chansons de France are followed by Trois ballades de François Villon. (1910).  Villon's poetry is more ornate, Debussy's setting respecting cadence and metre, which Degout sings with resonant, passionate richness.

On the second disc, there are five settings of poems by Paul Bourget, completed separately by Debussy at different dates, reflecting the composer's fondness for the poet.  Romance (voici que le printemps)  is elegant, well suited to Karthäuser's refined timbre, and Les Cloches is built around circular figures defined with charm by Asti. In Beau Soir, the piano line is limpid, caressing the voice,  while the lilting melody of  Paysage sentimental has charm.  Trois poèmes de Stéphane Mallarmé present more substantial material for Degout and Planès. The love scene, such as it is, is sinister, filled with foreboding. "Sur l'eau morte ou la fauve agonie des feuilles erre au vent et cresuse un froid villon". In Soupir, the piano part is heavy, almost metallic, Degout singing with haunted gravitas.  Together with Placet futile and Éventail, which extend the mood,  this cycle is striking, its ambiguous textures unsettling, evoking the aesthetic of the years after the war, and the music thereof, which Debussy would not live to experience.  As respite, the softer world of Fleurs des blès and la Belle au bois dormant with Karthäuser and Asti before returning to the darker world of Le promenoir des deux amants, a group of songs to poems by Tristan L'Hermite.  This setting of the same text as La Grotte in Trois chansons de France is followed by two songs where the mood is distinctly darker : to use the Pelléas et Mélisande analogy, we're now in the final bedchamber, rather than the castle grounds.   Hence the steady, funeral pace and the measured, solemn tones in Degout’s singing.  A brief piano interlude (Les soirs illuminés par l'ardour du charbon) while not connected to the songs extends their impact.  The collection concludes with Cinq poèmes de Charles Baudelaire presented by Karthäuser and Asti.

Glyndebourne Prom : Pelléas et Mélisande, Royal Albert Hall

From the original production of Pelléas et Mélisande - note the pannelled walls

Prom 5 at the Royal Albert Hall - Debussy Pelléas et Mélisande from Glyndebourne.   This is an opera where meaning is deliberately elusive. That is the nature of symbolism : it can and should reveal different things.   Symbolism by definition means thinking beyond surface impressions.  The greater a listener's emotional and visual literacy the more he and she will get from the experience.   Without empathy you're not really alive. That's the story of Golaud's life. Even as Mélisande dies, he can think only of himself and no further.  Thus the challenge of  Pelléas et Mélisande.  There is so much in this amazing opera that you'd be mad to take it on surface appearances.   Should we be like philistine Golaud or like sensitive Pelléas ?  Alas, the Golauds of this world won't even get that question.   Please see my review Herheim Vindicated HERE.  I've written in some detail, but it deserves it.


Pelléas et Mélisande  is such an abstract opera that it lends itself to concert performances and semi-stagings, which is fine, but opera is music theatre, not "pure" music, though this opera comes closer than most.  An intelligent staging like Herheim’s adds immeasurably, if you pay attention.  Art exists to open up possibilities, to expand understanding. It's not a fixed consumer product assembled to meet customer specifations. Golaud finds Mélisande in the forest but isn't interested in anything but himself, and never learns. Allemonde is a microcosm of the world (that's why it's Allemonde) where the countryside is dying, like Golaud's arid soul.   But I was glad to,listen again at this Prom.  Orchestrally, Ticciati and the London Philharmonic Orchestra were less uneven than they'd been at the performance I attended when there were rough patches.   There were good moments, as there were tonight at the Royal Albert Hall. Perfectly acceptable, though not reaching the heights of true inspiration.

Again, Christopher Purves singing Golaud was superb. His timbre is strong, suggesting the brutishness in Golaud's personality, while also suggesting the terrified frustration that makes limited minds reject what they can't comprehend.  Making Golaud sympathetic is quite a feat but Purves pulls it off.   John Chest singing Pelléas and Christina Gansch singing Mélisande are good enough though not on the level of some of the greats who do these roles for houses with bigger budgets.  Chloé Briot as Yniold was a tad too womanly to sound like a terrified boy, though Herheim's staging develops the part quite well in relation to Mélisande and to the male/female aspects of the opera, which are often missed.  Good, reliable singing in the other parts and chorus.   Brindley Sherratt was also very strong, full of character. Arkel isn't so old that he's decrepit : steel still resides within. 

Debussy : Heras-Casado Le martyre de Saint Sébastien, La mer

From the current  Debussy series on Harmonia Mundi, Pablo Heras-Casado and the Philharmonia  Orchestra with Debussy Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune, Le Martyre de saint Sébastien and La Mer. A stylish reading,  from a gifted young conductor and one of London's finest orchestras.  I first heard Heras-Casado when he was a student at a Pierre Boulez masterclass series in Lucerne, where he created such an impression that he went on to conduct orchestras like the Mahler Chamber Orchestra and Ensemble Intercontemporain.  He's developed a solid reputation and a wide-ranging repertoire, so he's well worth hearing.   This disc, part of a set still in progress, represents good value.  In this centenary of the composer's death the series is worth investigating, since it includes many good musicians, covering the breadth of Debussy's ouevre. 

A poised reading of Debussy's Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune L86,  the flutes leading seductively, lower timbred winds, harps and strings providing lush background.  A good sense of flow, important in a piece which would inspire one of the most famous ballets of all time.  Lovely circular shapes in the strings,  evoking perhaps the movement of a faun langorously turning its body, horn, winds and harps adding detail. 

Many will buy this recording, though, for Le Martyre de saint Sébastien L124, a four movement orchestral suite.  The first tableau, Le Cour de Lys, begins with tentative stirrings, executed with clear precision. Something is stirring. Sonorous strings and winds murmur. Though Sébastien is a saint, the imagery is erotic. Debussy and his contemporaries were no prudes.  Turbulence in the Danse extatique, the pace agitated yet languid, bright sharp chords shining. For a moment a dark, menaciung rumble before a glorious finale.  The strings elide nicely in the third tableau, The Passion, echoed by darker motifs.  At once a sense of forward thrust and sensual  response.  Particularly lovely winds, colours intensified by deeper, more mysterious undertones.  A new motif emerges, delicate, bright figures meeting somnolent overtones, winds and brass calling forwards.  A particularly beautiful final movement with well shaped long lines, strings shimmering against a hushed backdrop, culminating in triumphant blaze. 

Le Martyre de saint Sébastien here creates a bridge between the sensuality of Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune and the vigour of La Mer. Heras-Casado and the Philharmonia capture the variety and textures that give life to this piece : lines comprising multiple, ever-changing figures, always in motion.  The Dialogue between Wind and Sea flows exuberantly. A refreshing, open-air feel,  surgiung and subsiding.  There are dozens of recordings of this piece but this is reliable enough to stand on its own merits.

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Vindicated ! Herheim Glyndebourne Pelléas et Mélisande - screw the Golauds!

Christina Gansch, Christopher Purves, John Chest : Photo Richard Hubert Smith

At Glyndebourne for Debussy Pelléas et Mélisande, an opera that operates on many levels at once.  Symbolism, for goodness sake, not literalism !  Towers, tunnels, pools, movements upwards and downwards. Sex, obviously, but also violence and disorder rumbling not far below the surface.  Blinding heat and impenetrable darkness,  extremes that mirror and contrast.  In a dense forest (itself a symbol) Golaud is out hunting (killing animals).  Why is a man of his position alone in the middle of nowhere ? And who is Mélisande, and what's she doing?  Debussy's music is ambiguous yet beguiling, tonally elusive, leading us ever deeper, til we're almost as hypnotised as the characters acting out the mystery.  Nothing in this opera is straightforward, so it's ideally suited to a director like Stefan Herheim, whose forte is multi-levelled  detail.  This Pelléas et Mélisande  deserves careful attention, since it's psychologically perceptive and, like so much of Herheim's work, explores concepts of art, repression and creativity.  It's as good as anything that might be seen in a bigger house  and ought to be on DVD for repeat listening.

Usually all we see of the Organ Room at Glyndebourne is the window, which appears right stage. Now we see it from a different perspective,  modelling the logic of the narrative.  But it's a mistake to assume that this production is "about" Glyndebourne and the Christie family. Like so much in the opera, appearances are deceptive,  designed to divert the unwary. So, for starters, get past the obvious symbolism.  The family business is theatre: they know that art is not reality TV.  Getting too caught up in the Glyndebourne allusion is a mistake. Herheim likes the 19th century from whence came Romanticism. Remember his Parsifal for Bayreuth ? Just as Pelléas et Mélisande is not a shallow opera,  Herheim's production is anything but superficial.  In the first scene, deep chords emerge from the orchestra, as resonant as an organ.  The huge upright pipes dominate the stage, but are they a symbol for Golaud (Christopher Purves), the big man in Allemonde, who thinks mainly in terms of his own organ and needs. Again and again, Mélisande (Christina Gansch) says "Ne me touchez pas!" but he's not a guy who connects to anyone but himself, like so many one-dimensional bullies.  From purely practical considerations, the organ serves a structural foundation, as did Hans Sachs’s desk in Herheim's Der Meistersinger von Nürnberg.  (Please read what I wrote about that HERE) 

Assume that Mélisande is meek and mild, and you're on the wrong track.  She's the supposedly passive vector whose presence unleashes havoc all around her.  Like a Lorelei, she's an elemental spirit, perhaps as old as Time. Herheim combines beginning and end : Mélisande's "body" is seen on her deathbed, while she sings. Past, present and future converge. The baby is cradled by others, implying that the cycle will be reborn. "C'est au tour de la pauvre petite.", as wise old Arkel (Brindley Sherratt)  will sing at the end.  So it's no problem seeing the dead Pelléas moving or the dying Mélisande singing as she once was, in the forest.  That "is" the story.  

It's also a mistake to assume that  Pelléas et Mélisande means just Pelléas and Mélisande.  Golaud and Pelléas (John Chest) are brothers with the same roots, but are mirror opposites, interacting with Mélisande in their different ways : not inseparable. Herheim's focus on Golaud is important because it connects to the deeper psychological levels in the opera.  Though warned, Golaud brings Mélisande to Allemonde where she awakens in Pelléas feelings that are at once child-like and dangerous.  It's no accident that Pelléas and Mélisande see three blind men by the grotto.  His first comment is telling. "Oh! voici la clarté! ".  Then "ce sont trois vieux pauvres qui se sont endormis... .. Pourquoi sont-ils venus dormir ici?"   There has been a famine in the countrysiude, but perhaps there's been an emotional famine in the palace, from which Pelléas might now be waking.  The images of drought and clear water, oppressive sunshine and darkness, noon, and damp, underground caves in the libretto and in the music are there for a reason.  Herheim suggests this by showing the blind men as empty easels, on which Pelléas seems to be painting invisble pictures, mirroring the portraits of the past on the castle walls.  Is Pelléas a prototype artist, who can see what philistines like Golaud cannot see ?

Golaud puts Pelléas's eyes out so he "becomes" a blind man.  Destruction is Golaud's way of expressingn what he cannot articulate.  Listen to the brutal menace in the music. We see Golaud sodomise Yniold. That's what bullies do. They think in power, humiliation and self-gratification. The organ, again.... Herheim uses a soprano (Chloé Briot) in the role, partly because sopranos are easier to cast than trebles, but also because this connects to violence against women in macho society. This is also in the score. In this production the women who come to Mélisande on her death bed look like Victorian maids, but they may well represent ancient female rituals attending birth and death.  When Yniold's hat falls off, revealing her long hair (like Mélisande's), we recognise her as part of that alternative culture.  That's why Golaud cries out on the appearance of the women "Qu'y-a-t'il? Qu'est-ce que toutes ces femmes viennent faire ici!".  He ought to be able to recognize regular castle staff, but these he cannot comprehend.  Casting an adult women also moderates the horror an audience might feel imagining a real child getting raped.  But it isn't just women who are Golaud's targets.  Significantly, he leads Pelléas into the caves beneath the castle, damp and dark, like vaginas. When Yniold goes looking for his ball he spots Pélléas lying blind - silenced - on stage, his bottom raised upwards, facing the audience and lit by a spotlight.  "Oh! cette pierre est lourde..." sings Yniold.  Yniold can't find his ball, and even the sheep are still. "Berger!" he cries "Pourquoi ne parlent-ils plus:?"

And who is Arkel? Is he a benign figure of authority, or is he implicit in the slow devitalization of Allemonde and its ruling house ?The desiccation   didn't happen overnight. The ancestor portraits on the castle walls look down, impassively, a bit like Arkel himself.  After all, Arkel is quick to comfort Golaud. Mélisande doesn't judge him either, but she may well know that she's the Lorelei he tried to possess.  And Geneviève (Karen Cargill), the Doctor (Michael Mofidian), Shepherd (Michael Wallace), and the factotums in the castle ? Extremely good ensemble work, the groups of actors operating in unison, not as individuals. Bullies win when in systems where no-one stands up to them. Christopher Purves and Brindley Sherratt provided the ballast in this cast, two very strong personalities, mirroring and contrasting with each other.  Glyndebourne singers and choruses are much better than most country house and seasonal productions  but the economics doesn't run to some of the international megastars who often sing Pelléas and Mélisande.  Robin Ticciati conducted the London Philharmonic Orchestra and Nichilas Jenkins directed the Glyndebourne chorus.  If the orchestral playing was more raucuous than refined (apart from the key flute, harp and woodwind parts which symbolize Mélisande) that didn't detract too much.  Herheim and his dramaturge Alexander Meier-Dörzenbach created an unusually perceptive Pelléas et Mélisande which really needs to be seen again so its insights and details might better be appreciated. 

And as for the ending ?  Actors dressed  as a Glyndebourne audience wander into the room, like tourists gaping, oblivious of the psychic drama that has taken place, Utterly obtuse, like critics who can't see beyond their own egos.  The whole point of this opera is the questions it raises.  Symbols exist as clues to meaning, but meaning will always elude those who don't think.  In general Glyndebourne audiences are sharp - I overheard a group baying blood against Brexit - but the London media are a pack of Golauds.

Pelléas et Mélisande deals with uncanny events and layers of reality and non-reality. Srrangely enough, that's exactly what happened to me and my partner when we attended.  We arrived early and could hear Brindley Sherratt practising his scales from somewhere high above. Wow, did his voice carry ! He's been unwell, but being a pro, he soldiers on.  Basses who can act with their voices go on til they reach old age. Sherratt certainly has character, and Arkel benefits from  Sherratt's personality.  Each year, I count the sheep on the hills above  Glyndebourne. This year's heatwave has turned the fields white, revealing the chalk beneath the surface.  No grass, no sheep grazing. Just like the heat which paralyzes Allemonde. "Where are the sheep?" my partner said.  Quick as a shot "Maintenant ils se taisent tous..."  Driving back after the show on the B2192 to Lewes, our car was hit by a deer who jumped suddenly into the road. We had no time to brake or react, and couldn't stop because there was so much traffic, going too fast on the bends.  The deer might have ben hurt but it darted off. Our car had a bump : not a minor impact. But why did the deer jump, heading towards the wall on the other side of the road with a  steep cliff below ?  Who knows why, anymore than Mélisande materializing suddenly in the forest.  Perhaps Golaud is right  "Ce n'est pas ma faute". What is "la verité, la verité" ?

Claude Debussy plays Debussy

Today, 100 years ago Claude Debussy was still alive....  Tomorrow marks the 100th anniversary of his death. I'll be hearing La Mer with François-Xavier Roth and the LSO at the Barbican, (Please read my review HERE) exploring Debussy's legacy.  Boulez ! Stravinsky ! Ravel ! Messiaen ! and more....   Please see my other posts so far on Roth's Debussy series Young Debussy,  Essential Debussy  and Eclectic Gamelan Debussy. . Beware music histories which think modern music started only with Schoenberg and his devilish ways. All music is modern in its own time, and Debussy perhaps even more revolutionary in his way than most.  Even after all this time, some still can't get Pelléas et Mélisande. But that's OK. That made it easier to grab good seats at Glyndebourne this season. It will be intriguing to see what master symbolist Stefan Herheim does with it.  Below, Claude Debussy plays Clair de Lune, recorded very early on.  

Eclectic Gamelan Debussy and Boulez - François-Xavier Roth, Paris

François-Xavier Roth was today awarded the Legion d'Honneur for his services to culture. Congratulations, and well deserved cheers !  Yesterday afternoon, he conducted another brilliantly eclectic programme with Les Siècles, at the Philharmonie de Paris screened live,  bringing out the connections between Javanese gamelan, Debussy and Pierre Boulez.  Unusual, but extremely rewarding, so please  make time to listen (archived on arte.tv and also on the Philharmonie de Paris website) because this concert has been put together with insight and great musical understanding. The roots of modern music lie deep in the past, and in forms beyond the western European core.

The photo at right shows some of the Javanese dancers who appeared at the Exposition Universelle of 1889, a world's fair celebrating modern progress.  Europe was looking outwards, inspired by exotic, alien cultures.. A "new" baroque age, in many ways, full of confidence and adventure.  France,  Belgium and the Netherlands had colonies in Asia and Africa,  and while they weren't any better as rulers than some, they were genuinely fascinated by the diversity and richness of the cultures they encountered.  Debussy visited the Indonesian pavilion, which featured large replica village, so authentic that the buildings were constructed by genuine Javanese builders, using materials they brought with them. For entertainment, there was a large gamelan orchestra, and troupes of dancers, not only Javanese but Balinese and Sumatran.  Debussy responded to their music as a musician would, not for the exoticism so much as for the ideas on pitch, intervals and structure. 

And so this concert at the Philharmonie began with the Ensemble de Gamelan Sekar-Wangi, sounds building up so gradually that some in the audience didn't realize the show had started.  Unlike western music, a lot of Asian music is ambient sound, part of ordinary life, so you listen in different ways.  This performance included two singers, their lines weaving semi independently of the orchestral line, creating multiple layers of sound.  Gamelan performance is intuitive and semi-improvised, the performers adapting to one another.  The music moves as if in procession, the different components, co-operating, changes marked by gradual, mutually agreed changes of direction. Think ricefields, terraced up sloping hills, teeming with water, bugs and fish, harvested and re-irrigated. a lot of Asian music has spiritual and ritual connections, so this awareness of space does matter.  

Eventually, like Debussy, Messiaen and Benjamin Britten would respond to Asian music in their own terms.  One day I hope Roth will conduct Britten's Prince of the Pagodas.  That's a piece that really cries out for someone who understands how the music works, and why.  Please read my analysis of it HERE.  In 1950's Britain,  it was misunderstood, not helped by awkward choreography.  Some years ago there was a much better Japanese production, but its full potential has yet to be tapped.  Go for it, François-Xavier Roth and Les Siècles, and use modern dance.  The time for a really good Prince of the Pagodas has come ! 

 With the last echoes of the gamelan began Boulez Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna, the artillery of orchestral gongs taking up from the gongs of the gamelan and the beaten metal bonang.  Boulez writes for  eight unequal instrumental groups, moving at different paces and in rhythms,  just as mourners follow a cortege, seemingly disparate but with common purpose. In the Philharmonie, the differences are emphasized by having the groups playing in different positions around the main stage.  Wooden, beaten percussion - shades of the gamelan xylophone - functions like a heartbeat, often harshly hollow.  Sudden  interruptions, flurries, changes and pauses that feel organic, like a brave heart that's failing but rallying despite the odds.  Brass and wind chords blare, radiating out into space, as if exploring distance and searching the unknown.  The piece is a funeral march, of course, but also serves to structure time and its inevitable passing.  Thus the small trickling sounds, tick, tick, tick against the strong brass crescendi.  Cymbal crashes echo, the winds and brass wail, once more, in unison, the  sounds lingering after the act of playing has ceased. which is part of mreaning - Maderna is dead, but not forgotten, and neither, now is Boulez.  

After Boulez, Debussy Three Nocturnes and La Mer, again connecting old and new. Last Thursday Roth conducted the Nocturnes at the Barbican, London, with the London Symphony Orchestra. Please read what I wrote about that, and its modernism, here.  With Les Siècles and Les Cris de Paris at the Philharmonie de Paris, the Nocturnes sounded even more refined and sophisticated, sensitive as this orchestra is to the finest nuances of timbre.  a very different sound, but exquisite.  My imagination blossomed, thinking back to Asia and dreams of new horizons.  Two very different Nocturnes in four days - what a treat !   Roth will be conducting La Mer with the LSO in a few weeks.  He's done it numerous times but it never hurts to hear it again, and again.  For an encore  the fanfare that concludes Debussy's Première Suite d'Orchestre premiered in its new performing edition by Les Siècles in 2012.  Please read about that HERE.   

Essential Debussy : François-Xavier Roth Cédric Tiberghien Jeux Nocturnes

"Essential" Debussy, a tag with a snag, because the programme wasn't cliché "greatest hits" for those who think instant thrills are all that count, but "essential" in the sense of The Essence of Debussy, a much deeper concept, because it examines what makes Debussy so special. With François-Xavier Roth conducting the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican, London, you expect, and get, the wisdom that comes from deeper experience.  This concert was the second of three and a half  examining Debussy in terms of his influences and the influence he had on modern music.  A bit more than quick fix "essential"but essential nevertheless. Please read HERE for my piece on Young Debussy and the roots of French modernism. 
 Definitely one of Debussy's "greatest hits" Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune  led into a programme of other Debussy milestones, including Nocturnes , without which we might not have La Mer, and Jeux from 1913, so innovative that it's a pillar of 20th century music - very much "essential" though not as ubiquitous as a "greatest hit".
Other correspondences too within the programme making more subtle connections.  Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune broke new ground in 1889.  Mallarmé used symbolism to express emotions perhaps too tricky to be openly expressed. Modern, yet also in the tradition of allegory that goes back to the Greeks. The flute itself is symbolic, suggesting ancient Arcadia, where the rules of modern society do not apply.  Like the fawn, a creature of the wild who cannot be tamed, the flute line moves and turns in explicit sensuality. The fawn is responding to deep instinctive urges, which may be not be satisfied.  In Vienna, Freud had yet to formulate his ideas on dreams and the subconscious. In the French-speaking world, the symbolists (as early as Baudelaire) were already there.  The LSO provided a luxuriant background, lush strings and resonant winds enfolding the clear, piping purity of the flute. In this performance, the horns were also heard clearly muffled, as if in the distance, but an important reminder that the fawn is an animal which will be hunted down and killed. Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune is not at all "romantic"  Roth brings out the sexual danger beneath the exotic surface.  

Thus to Debussy's Fantasie for Piano and Orchestra (1889-90) with Cédric Tiberghien, a good choice as companion piece.   Here, the piano is the fawn, its notes sparkling against the murkier shadows inn the music. Gradually the piano grows more vigorous and more imaginative.  Darker, quirkier winds (bassoon, oboes, clarinets) and percussion threaten to close in, but the piano breaks free.  In the middle movement, marked lento, the piano holds forth expressively. Tiberghein shows how intellect does not exclude emotion. On the contrary, the technical excellence of his playing intensifies feeling, adding sincerity and depth.  Like the fawn, the music enters a kind of clearing, then finds new direction, the music of the first movement adapted in the last with confidence and sophistication.

Hearing Roth and the LSO in Debussy Jeux brought back memories of Boulez, conducting it on his 80th birthday celebration, also at the Barbican, but with the BBC SO.  Obviously different times and orchestras, but that indicates how good Roth is in this repertoire.  In Jeux the game is, ostensibly, tennis.  Or is it ? Two young people are fooling around, but suddenly a ball is thrown onto the court, changing the game.  Strange, quivering chords, suggesting tension. Rays of brightness, throwing  the darkness into menacing contrast.  In musical terms, this means constant flow between points, patterns crossing and recrossing, staccato contrasting with freewheeling liveliness. Like Boulez, Roth marks the sense of "listening". The players on this court have to be alert and reespond. Perhaps the wild, tantalizing line represents the mysterious ball. Whatever, it has energy and purpose, unlike the players when they came onto court.  At last a blaze of horns and rising energy in the music. Are they players being "illuminated" ?  Suddenly, tantalizingly the music ends. Instead of closure in the conventional symphonic sense we're left to think for ourselves. I love  Jeux because it's open ended. There may be dangers ahead, the  understated wit in the piece suggests adventure, not doom.

Although Roth and the LSO will be doing perhaps Debussy's greatest orchestral hit of all,  La Mer, next month,  they presented the Three Nocturnes (1899) which in many ways is its predecessor.   Heard together in one concert, they could be overwhelming, so we're better off focusing one at a time for maximum value.  In the Nocturnes, Debussy seems to illustrate a seascape. The movements have programmatic titles - Nuages, Fêtes, Sirènes - but as always, good music is more than literal depiction.  Waves keep changing shape and position, thus the concept of constant change, figures moving and shifting in myriad ways.  Impressionist painters depicted light and movement by single brushstrokes, emphasizing clarity over mass.  Thus the origins of "impressionism" in music, and the search for musical expression beyond the constraints of conventional tonality.  In an ocean, motion is controlled by invisible forces, like tides and wind. Thus the concept of musical form which might suggest undercurrents and ideas behind surface appearance.   Roth and the LSO shape the first two Nocturnes emphasizing the intricate detail beneath the broad sweep, for these details are like the "brushstrokes" in painting.   But it is in the third Nocturne, Sirènes, where Debussy breaks in even more innovative form.  The women of the London Symphony Chorus, led by Simon Halsey, vocalize, singing abstract sound instead of words.  Sounds as beautiful as these create their own meaning, just as the instruments in an orchestra sing without words. The shifting patterns, nuances and tones create the concept of a horizon that keeps moving and changing, with infinite variety. From these wonderful cross-currents and multiple textures, the borders of strict tonality are beginning to fade.

Don't miss the next concert in this Debussy series with Roth and the LSO at the Barbican, 25th March
Bottom photo: Roger Thomas

Young Debussy Première Suite - F-X Roth the roots of French modernism

young Claude - recognize the forehead?

"The Young Debussy", Debussy's Première Suite d'Orchestre (1882-4) with François-Xavier Roth conducting the London Symphony Orchestra at the Barbican, London.  An extremely thoughtful programme placing early Debussy in context, demonstrating his response to the influences around him . The modernist who was to write La Mer and Pelléas et Mélisande had deep roots in French tradition.  Debussy began the Première Suite d'Orchestre while still a student, but it is a fairly substantial piece, which runs almost half an hour in performance, displaying great variety. A showcase for a young composer, displaying his skills, but also very original.  Already, one can sense a creative personality. In 2012, Roth conducted  Les Siècles in the premiere of the performance edition of the piece completed by Philippe Manoury.  This LSO performance was its UK premiere, a different approach, but presented with equal flair and commitment.  

Debussy's Première Suite d'Orchestre evolves over four movements, Fête, Ballet, Rêve and Cortège et Bacchanale, each highly individual.  Fête begins briskly, the animated pace giving way to a broader sweep in which other themes might be glimpsed, like a miniature overture, and concluded with affirmative punch. The brisk, confident strides moving on to different dance-like figures : a swaying theme for strings,  a duet for high winds and low, an elegant ballet.  With the LSO, Roth brought the "oriental" touches into sharper focus. These "voices from the East" are significant not simply as exotic decoration but because they serve to open up new horizons. Although Debussy didn't embrace outright orientalism, it informed his appreciation for new modes of thinking and expression.  The richness in the orchestration - lovely parts for violin - suggest the young composer's growing self-confidence. While Ballet is the most striking section, Rêve contains hints of what was to come - interesting textures and details. It ends with a flourish, leading into the fanfare which introduces the final movement.  Again, bright, clearly defined figures underlined by timpani, trumpets and trombones ablaze. Not a funeral march so much as valedictory procession, where pace is employed to shape structure, bounding forward to an affirmative conclusion.

Framing Debussy's Première Suite  were Édouard Lalo's Cello Concerto (1876) with Jules Massenet's Le Cid Suite (1885).  Young Debussy preceded by a very young cellist, Edgar Moreau, born in 1994 but already with a good portfolio.  Lalo's Cello Concerto gives the soloist such prominence that it's almost a cello piece with orchestral accompaniment, since the deep voice of a cello holds its own so well.  A good sense of equipose : the balance between soloist and orchestra was carefully judged.  Moreau's line is assured, unfazed by the large forces around him.  Though the part is demanding, it's a concerto where the players are "in concert", respecting each other, almost a pas de deux. Indeed, it concludes like dance, for the allegro vivace resembles a Spanish dance, the soloist and orchestra in step together.  

More Spanish music in Massenet's suite from Le Cid (1885), with Massenet using imaginary Spain to add alien, exotic colour, as he did with Le roi de Lahore and Cléopâtre.  Orientalism of different flavours paving the way for new musical expression. More dance, too.  The seven movements of the Le Cid suite each describe different forms of Spanish dance, giving French opera audiences the dancing they cherished so much.  But even without dancers to look at, dance is fundamental to the music, giving it pulse, agility and form.  There's no way you can listen to music like this without connecting to its energetic spirit.  Dance is a discipline where precision matters. Mess up the patterns and dance turns into brawl.  In an orchestra, ensemble matters. Freedom of expression, yes, but not free for all.  François-Xavier Roth, with his background in French baroque, understands the fundamentals of French style, and makes the connections between different periods.  From Lully to Rameau, to Grand Opéra, to the Belle Époque to Debussy and to the modern world : different sounds, but similar prinicples.  Roth and the LSO started the programme with Wagner, and the Overture to Tannhäuser.  That, in its time, was revolutionary "modernism", Wagner purporting to wipe out French dominance with new Germanic ways.  Nice performance, but in the context of French "modernism" of the same period, it didn't feel quite so innovative after all. 

Bottom photo: Roger Thomas

Thoughtful Debussy series, Roth and LSO, Barbican

The London Symphony Orchestra's Debussy series with Principal Guest Conductor François-Xavier Roth, at the Barbican, London   For my review of the outstanding final concert iun this series, please REWAD HERE (Lots of other links, too)

The spirit of French style is dance, agility, precision, energy, inventiveness.  Wagner, while well played, seemed almost pre-modern.  
 Much more than "Debussy's Greatest Hits"  but a series that puts Debussy into context in a thought -provoking manner, typical of Roth's intelligent musical flair.  Tomorrow, 21st January, "The Young Debussy" with Debussy's Première Suite which he wrote  while still a student. The piece exists in manuscript but was was only prepared for performance in 2012 when Philippe Manoury orchestrated the third movement, Rêve.  Roth conducted the premiere with Les Siècles and made the so far only recording. The Première Suite  unfolds in four movements, Fête, Ballet, Rêve and Cortège et Bacchanale. Though the piece is very early Debussy indeed (1882-4) there are passages which suggest how the composer was going to develop.  It will be heard together with the overture to Wagner Tannhäuser, the suite of Massenet Le Cid and Lalo's Cello Concerto with Edgar Moreau, soloist. A big programme, but consider the connections and influences. 

On Thursday 25th January, four keynote pieces,  Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune, Fantasy for Piano and Orchestra (Cédric Tiberghien), Jeux and Three Nocturnes.  More provocatively, on March 25th, “Debussy and Beyond" demonstrating the influence of Debussy on modern music.  Boulez Livre pour cordes, Bartók Violin Concerto No 2 (Renaud Capuçon), Stravinsky Chant du Rossignol and a new work by Ewan Campbell.  

Last but certainly not least, not least, on Sunday 28th March,  "Half Six Fix" a one hour concert starting 6.30pm - Debussy La Mer and Stravinsky Chant du Rossignol.  Worth coming in to town for that alone and dinner later. Or, you could stay for the evening concert with the Britten Sinfonia and the Britten Sinfonia Voices, with Stravinsky, Gabrieli, Gesualdo, Mozart, Bruckner and Esa-Pekka Salonen's Concert etude for solo horn.

Sabine Devieilhe Mirages - exotic French orientalism

Mirages : visions of the exotic East, a selection of French opera arias and songs from Sabine Devieilhe, with Alexandre Tharaud and Les Siècles conducted by François-Xavier Roth, new from Erato.  A stunning Ou va la jeune hindou (Bell song) from Delibes Lakmé.  Devielhe's agile coloratura negotiates the challenges so gracefully that they seem almost effortless, flowing as fluidly as molten silver. The decorations sparkle - like bells - evoking emotions an innocent virgin cannot otherwise articulate. Lines float with a legato which seems inexhaustible, and dance with sensual rhythm.  The natural freshness in Devieilhe's voice  evokes Lakmé's purity without artifice. If Devieilhe is still quite young, that adds tender fragility to her portrayal. Listen also to the way the orchestra replicates exotic "oriental" sounds with western instruments. Les Siècles' background in period-inspired performance pays off handsomely.  Also included here are a good Viens, Malika (with Marianne Crebassa)  and Tu m'as donné le plus doux rêve. 

Celle qui vient est plus belle from Massenet Thaïs, and A vos jeux, mes amis from Ambroise Thomas's Hamlet, indicating whee Devieilhe's career will develop.  Berlioz La Mort d'Ophélie , Debussy La Romance d'Ariel and Charles Koechlin's Le Voyage show she's also promising in song, where Devieilhe is accompanied by Alexandre Tharaud.  But  there are  other treasures, too.  One of the many reasons why Roth and Les Siècles are so extraordinary is because they know their music history and make intelligent, perceptive connections.  Thus they present, together,  La jour sous le soleil béni from Messager's Madame Chrysanthėme, a French Madama Butterfly with Mes longs cheveaux descendent from Debussy Pelléas et Mélisande, a thoughtful juxtaposition which brings out the contrast between two almost contemporary pieces.   

Still further reason to get this recording is that it includes Maurice Delage's Quatre Poėmes hindous.  Delage (1879-1961)  travelled  to India, Indo-China and Japan, absorbing non-western musical form.  Although there are several recordings of these songs, most aren't easy to come by except for Felicity Lott/Armin Jordan from 1995, so it's refreshing to hear Devieilhe with Roth and Les Siècles who are even more idiomatic than Jordan and the Kammerensemble de Paris.  What gives this performance the edge is the orchestral playing.  Les Siècles, with their extensive experience in Ravel and in unusual instruments, create the exotic sounds  of the East of Delage's imagination so well that the songs have an almost authentic "Indian" flavour, even the one titled Lahore which is in fact a setting of Heinrich Heine's Ein Fichtenbaum steht einsam, also set by Grieg, Liszt,  Delius and Stenhammer.  In Delage's setting, cello, viola and harp are plucked like Indian string instruments, while the voice curls sensuously around. In the song Bénarès, we might think we hear tablas and Indian reeds, but we're actually hearing western instruments played by musicians who have endeavoured to understand what their Asian counterparts might do.  When western composwers discovered Asia, they opened new possibilities in western form.  From The East to Debiussy, to Stravinsky (whose Le Rossignol is also on this disc.  Modern and ancient, in symbiosis.  With Roth and Les Siècles: "The unexpected is always with us", to borrow a phrase from Luciano Berio, another Roth speciality. .

Orchestre de Paris 50th Birthday Party - Berio Sinfonia flows free

The Orchestre de Paris, with Daniel Harding, click to enlarge -it's worth  it

Hugely ambitious concert marking the 50th anniversary of the Orchestre de Paris. The finest concert hall in the world,  and one of the finest orchestras too,  with new Chief Conductor Daniel Harding, and a programme showcasing the connections between sound and space.  Berio's Sinfonia, "a symphony that contains the world"  created so it constantly renews and adapts whenever it's performed anew.  A metaphor for the creative force that is music !  The concepts that make Berio's Sinfonia so innovative apply too to György Ligeti's Poème symphonique pour 100 métronomes, to Jörg Widmann's Fantasie, to Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms and to Debussy La Mer.   To assess this vast programme in conventional terms would be to miss its very purpose.  The Orchestre de Paris and the Philharmonie are astute, not stupid.  These works are hardly obscure.  Music doesn't have to be locked into straitjackets of form. Like the river that flows through Berio's Sinfonia, it flows onwards, absorbing many influences, fertilizing new areas, bringing renewal and rebirth.  As Berio explained, "One of my aims was to use the orchestration as a respectful and loving instrument of investigation and transformation". 

It's no accident that Berio references Mahler's Symphony no 2, with its themes of death and resurrection, and specifically to the movement in which the song  Des Antonius von Paduas Fischpredikt  resurfaces wordlessly, in orchestral guise.  Numerous other references, too, such as to Don, the first movement of Boulez's Pli selon Pli ( which means fold upon fold, ie, endless layers and permutations). (Read more HERE)  "Don" means gift, so this is like a gift  from one composer to another. What has gone before shapes what is to come, but absolutely central is the idea that music never ends.  Numerous other references, some musical, some cultural, some explicit, some so cryptic that they only reveal themselves on careful listening.  "For the unexpected is always with us!" a phrase that acts like a signpost in the vocal parts. Berio also experiments with levels of time, blending references to the past to the present and future.  "Keep going, keep going" and later "Stop!" but the music propels ever forward.

Thunderbolt ostinato, screams of protest.  London Voices supplied the archly Anglo tones that appealed to Berio's quirky sense of humour. So what if some audiences don't get everything, all at once ?  St. Anthony kept preaching to the fish, though they didn't listen and kept scrapping. 

 Berio also wrote music that would grow to fit each performance space. In the Philharmonie, the Sinfonia swelled to fit the vast space, where the acoustic  is so fine that it doesn't dampen fine detail. This time the whispers in the voice parts could be heard, imperceptibly, and tiny figures in the orchestration weren't lost  Though Berio uses a large orchestra, big blast is not the way to do this piece.  Harding builds up the layers of colour and texture so they shine . Much in the way Impressionist painters kept their brush strokes clear.  Thus the elegant symmetry of the programme, balancing Berio's Sinfonia with Debussy La Mer. Both pieces are impressionistic in the way details are built up without being muddied, individual cells kept clean and vibrant. La Mer was revolutionary because it marked a sea change in style. It thrives best when conducted like this, where the energy flows freely.  For French orchestras La Mer is a signature piece : the symbol of modern French style.  

In Sinfonia, Berio also makes references to Ligeti and specifically to Atmosphères.  Perfectly logical then to follow Sinfonia with Ligeti's Poème symphonique where 100 metronomes tick, each in slightly different ways. Ligeti's playing with time, and measures of time : the principles of music, where his "players" are usually the means by which music is regulated. More quirky humour ! In a long concert like this, it gave the regular orchestra a rest while the audience worked. If they understood, which they probably did since it's quite a well known piece. Again, proof that music exists in many forms ! Thus Widmann's Fantasie for solo clarinet, heard in March this year at the opening concert at the Pierre Boulez Saal in Berlin. The Paris Philharmonie is a much bigger space, but the piece adapted well,  as if the sound of the clarinet were moving around the hall, reaching out into its distances. If anything, I much preferred this new spatial dimension. It makes the piece intriguing, as if the instrument were exploring and responding to its environment.  Like shepherds of Ancient Greece, playing flutes whose sound carries over vast spaces.  Another connection to the themes in Berio's Sinfonia.  

Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms, another hybrid form, blending the form of ritual religious music to orchestral style, at once ancient and modern.  It also combines orchestra with choir (the Choir of the Orchestre de Paris, Choirmaster Lionel Sow).  The ideas in Berio's Sinfonia again, but with the unmistakable austerity that would mark Stravinsky's later style. Huge blocks of sound, hewn as if from a rockface, yet moving forward with slow but monumental pace.  Stravinsky, Berio and Debussy, three very different composers but each creating new form.   In contrast,  Jörg Widmann's  Au cœur de Paris written for the orchestra's 50th birthday. It's a party piece,  tumbling different clichés of Paris together in merry profusion.  Yet another nod to Berio and his sense of humour ! 

Listen to the concert here (available for the next six months)