2013 highlights and low lights

To start this summary of what I saw this year, I have to start with the statement, that I did not see all I wanted to see, not even locally. I mostly chose to see things that I felt I had to see, not things I wanted to see, given the chance. Thus, no Ballo at Opera Australia, and no Melbourne Ring either, since, it had initially been declared sold out. When I heard there was tickets available, it was too late for me to organise to go.

But, I also got to see some unexpected treats, in part due to some generous friends. Both the Carmen on the Harbour and the Verdi Requiem I saw via free tickets, and both I enjoyed immensely, even if they were not my peak highlights.

But, having said that, my first highlight of the year came in April, courtesy of a Met in HD production. I think it is fair to say that pretty much anyone that went to that Parsifal came away moved/stunned/shocked/wowed. What it was like live I can only imagine (I got lots of reports of "amazing" from people who went), but it burst forth on screen with an intensity often missed. I suspect the DVD of this production, will quickly become regarded as the one to judge others by. Both impressive musically and visually, it allowed the story to be told true to text, while modernising it in a way that made it more meaningful, not less. It was both traditional and modern, an exercise in direction that many opera directors would do well to watch and learn from, in my opinion.

The next highlight was finally hearing Bryn Terfel in concert. Not because he was in fine vocal form, or because he is one of the best singers around. But, rather, because he is that rare thing, the consummate showman in classical music. His performing will always be interesting, no matter how he is sounding, simply because he comes across as generous friend who wants you to like his singing, and who is a nice guy. I found his voice definitely showing wear and tear that night, but his performance was still entertaining and frankly, compelling. As I said at the time, maybe not the voice I wanted on recordings of the repertoire, but as a live experience, hard to beat.

Then, the next highlight was hearing Stuart Skelton in concert with the Philharmonia proving what an amazing singer he is. Seriously, I fail to understand why he is not better known, this is a singer who you need to go hear, any time you have the chance. And why his Lohengrin (or his Parsifal, for that matter) are not available on video, is one of the modern mysteries of opera (or at least, the recording industry)

I also got the chance to hear Eric Owens sing The Flying Dutchman, in a concert with the Sydney Symphony, and Orla Boylan and Ain Anger. Let's just say that they are all singers who if you do not know, you should. All singing roles that suit them, in concert with the forces that this opera begs for. If you have not heard a big chorus sing this, you have not heard it! This was far and away my highlight for concert of the year.

I have two choices for the best staged live opera I saw. I can't quite decide which was better. Both were well performed, in clever stagings that brought the stories to life. Both used minimal sets, focussing more on the performers to bring things to life. The stunning production of La forza del destino by Opera Australia was a dramatic and a vocal triumph for them. With a great cast, all singing amazingly, in  a production with no weak link (except the overlong music, Verdi really needed to cut some things out) This was a production where you really did feel their anguish and despair at what has happened.

But, I also can't go past the Sydney Chamber Opera production of Owen Wingrave, where on the smell of an oily rag, they produced riveting theatre that was more real than anything I have seen on stage. The cast were all impressive, but the stunning performance of Morgan Pearse in the title role was one of the best performances I have seen in person on stage. Even in an opera I had never heard before, which, to be honest, is not the easiest music to like on first listen, he held the audience in the palm of his hand the whole time, and his death at the end produced audible gasps of horror in the audience. You cannot get more vivid performances than that!


Sydney Chamber Opera - Owen Wingrave from Hospital Hill on Vimeo.

Bryn: in recital

So, Bryn Terfel, row F, so close you can see him spit as he sings, but not close enough to need an umbrella. And yes, he is every bit the amazing performer we know and love, up close as well.

Having said that, I admit, I suspect that if say, 3 years ago, I had been to a similar concert I would have been much more impressed, than last night. The years of working on heavier rep are showing on his voice, and now and then his voice showed that. But, when you have been working at the peak of the opera world, as Bryn has, for more than 20 years, basically from when you first started professionally, you do tend to expect a few signs of wear and tear. A few shouty notes that were flung, not placed, and a tendency for some of his louder pieces to come across as forced, not controlled, were the signs I was seeing.

But, having said that, we came to hear Bryn, the man, the humour, and his music, and we got that in a generous serving. He introduced the thought behind his programming in a brief chat before he sang. His first teacher at the Guildhall School of Music introduced him to the glories of English song (and especially through the poetry of John Masefield) so, we started with those. Songs that evoke the experiences of someone who moved around, exploring the UK, writing down reflections of what was seen. The second half was devoted to German lieder, based on the experience with his second teacher, Rudolph Piernay.

Throughout the evening, Bryn's diction was exemplary. Most of the time every word could be heard clearly, a feat that many singers struggle with. A reflection of the focus on German repertoire for much of his career perhaps? Or just a determination to get it right? Either way, it was impressive and pleasing. (And a lesson to young singers. If a large Wagnerian voice can be clear, so can you)

He also was very clear with the songs he sang to make them very much his own. Stretch a note here, emphasise something there just a little differently, to make a point. Always, it related to the words, or the music, always justifiable, even if not necessarily what we might call "good taste" But, he always had a reason for doing so, these were his interpretations, his performances, and if you did not like it, quite frankly, well you were at the wrong concert. His performances may not be the ones I would necessarily want on CD, but as live performances, they were compelling.

After the songs based on Masefield poems, we had a group of Roger Quilter songs. When I hear Roger Quilter, I often realise I know so little of his music and should learn more. Again, that happened here. A couple of beautiful songs, then a break for interval.

After interval we were firmly into German Lieder territory, starting off with a rip roaring Der Beiden Grenadiere, which, while full of enthusiasm, brought home how much Bryn's voice has changed. This is not the thing of beauty that won the lieder prize at the Cardiff Singer of the World contest, but rather, a matured voice showing signs of wear and tear, albeit one being used by a consumate showman of a singer. He was hear to entertain, and that he delivered in spades.

So, after that disappointment, to hear him sing such beautiful pianissimi in the quieter songs (including the one above) was a revelation. Frankly, the choices of Litany for the Feast of All Souls and to Sing on the Water were a demonstration that, while the voice may not be what it was, the artistry and technique behind it is still phenomenal. I think it is also the first time I have heard to Sing on the Water sung successfully by a large male voice, as opposed to a high light soprano.

He also had a lot of fun with the Trout, leaving me in no doubt, Bryn likes to fish. It was another case of Bryn as showman, rather than Bryn as fine musician, even though, to get there he had to be the latter, as well as the former.

He finished with a few "traditional Celtic songs" - Danny Boy, Passing By, All through the night and Loch Lommond, the last two getting audience involvement. How many of you can say you have sung with Bryn? (I can now)

And then for the (in a performance like this, mandatory) encores, we had "the Big Brown Bear" (which seems to be a common encore for him) and finally the entry into Valhalla from Das Rheingold, with amazing playing by Sharolyn Kimmorley. It wasn't the huge orchestration of Wagner, but she was able to create the sense of immensity that the orchestra creates at that point of the score, immensity, inevitability and finality. The fact she was was able to do that, after playing the mostly much more lyrical and flexible accompaniments of the songs, speaks volumes to how much an integral part of the concert she was. It also says something to me, that when he sang that small chunk of Wagner, he seemed to be singing what felt right. However enjoyable the evening had been, he is now, and is indelibly stamped, with the Wagnerian Baritone label, which is not a bad thing. Many of us remember thinking at the time he first burst onto the international opera scene with his Cardiff win, and his performance at the Saltzburg Festival as Joachanaan, that this is where he would be, given time. How right we were.

So, as much as I would have liked to have sat and listened to him sing an evening of his big signiature roles with orchestra, hearing him sing songs with piano accompaniment was a reminder of just how versatile he really is. And a very potent reminder of just how significant a performer he has been throughout his career. A great talent, with a charming presence, and a genuine pleasure in performing for others. Would that all were like that.

 

Bryn in 1989 (Cardiff Singer of the World contest)