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SEEN
AND HEARD CONCERT REVIEW
Prokofiev,
Wallen:
Enkelejda Shkosa (mezzo), Alwyn Mellor (soprano), Jason Howard
(tenor), Megan Llewellyn Dorke, Samantha Hay (soprano), Dabiella
Ehrlich, Sian Menhir (mezzo), Simon Curtis, Alun Rhys-Jenkins
(tenor), Robert Winslade Anderson, James Robinson-May (bass),
Carbon 12 Ladies Community Choir, Men of the WNO Chorus, Risca
Male Choir, Parc and Dare Brass Band, Orchestra of Welsh National
Opera / Carlo Rizzi (conductor), Wales Millennium Centre, Cardiff,
12. 6.2008 (GPu)
Prokofiev, Alexander Nevsky
Wallen, Carbon 12
Though Carbon 12 was billed – somewhat misleadingly –
as A Choral Symphony – both these works, one well established, one
new, are best viewed as variants on the oratorio or cantata. They
made a striking pair in an interesting evening under the auspices
of Welsh National Opera. Neither work finally persuaded one that
it was possessed of any great profundity, but both contained much
to engage ears and mind and both were performed with passion and
commitment.
The creation of Alexander Nevsky was surrounded by
historical ironies. Having returned from Paris to Russia in 1936,
Prokofiev was recruited to work alongside Sergei Eisenstein on a
film telling the story of Alexander Nevsky, a subject endorsed by
Stalin as relationships between Russia and Germany deteriorated.
Nevsky, thirteenth century Prince of Novgorod, led armies which
defeated Swedish invaders at the river Neva in 1240 and, in 1242,
a force of Teutonic Knights at Lake Chud (or Peipus). Stalin saw
obvious analogies – and propagandistic potential – in the story of
Nevsky’s military triumphs. The film, with Prokofiev’s score, was
completed in 1938. But when Stalin and Hitler signed a
non-aggression pact in August of the following year, the film
found itself at odds with Russian policy and largely disappeared
from sight (and sound) in Russia; when Hitler attacked Russia in
1941 the film was rehabilitated and newly circulated. Just months
before the signing of the non-aggression pact of August 1939,
Prokofiev had conducted the premiere of the cantata he had made
from his film music, in Moscow on May 17th. How easily
works of art tied to political events and attitudes can find
their fate tied to the fate of those attitudes and events!
Events since 1941 have, of course, added further layers of irony.
The music itself has – as befits its origins as film music –
considerable evocative power. It is, though, somewhat short on
subtlety. In its first section, ‘Russia under the Mongol Yoke’,
the orchestra of WNO responded well to the broodingly ominous
quality of the opening, with some lovely work from the woodwinds
and the low strings. When the chorus entered it was hard not to be
disappointed – for all the inevitability of the realisation – at
how far the basses fell short of the sound we would have heard
from a great Russian choir at this point. Proclaiming that “Those
who march on Russia shall be put to death”, the chorus largely
held its own against some powerful orchestral playing. But for the
most part – as in the third section, ‘The Crusaders in Pskov’ – it
is the orchestra which carries the real weight of this piece,
to dominate and sustains the hearer’s attention. Still, the women
of the chorus took the opportunity to distinguish themselves in
‘Arise, ye Russian people’ (“Arise you free, brave people” (!)).
In the longest section of the work, the fifth, ‘The battle on the
ice’ there was much fine orchestral playing, with Carlo Rizzi
tightly controlling some elaborate and jagged rhythmic patterns.
Still, though well done, this fell short of that final edge of
fierceness and ebullience to be heard in the very best
performances of the movement. In the lament (and celebration of
bravery) which makes up ‘The Field of the Dead’, the Albanian
mezzo Enkelejda Shkosa sang the solo part with a distinctively
Eastern European weight of voice, tonally rich if not especially
various, the whole achieving a moving dignity. In ‘Alexander’s
Entry into Pskov’, which closes the work, the text tells us that
“All Russia came in triumph to the celebration”, but Prokofiev’s
orchestral writing here seems to fall rather short of creating the
sense of scale that such words imply. Overall, Alexander
Nevsky’s virtues and limitations were alike evident in this
generally accomplished performance. It had a particular poignancy
since it was the last piece in which John Stein will serve as
leader of the WNO orchestra, having held the position since
1970 and having played a considerable role in the development of
the orchestra. John Fisher, General Director of WNO, came on stage
to pay tribute to Stein, who was very warmly congratulated by
orchestra, chorus, conductor and audience alike. Music lovers in
Wales - and far beyond – owe him a considerable debt of
gratitude.
The ‘novelty’ of the evening was a new WNO commission (it had its
premiere last week) with a libretto by John Binias and music by
Errollyn Wallen. It takes a longish (50 minutes) look at the
history of the coal industry in South Wales, exploring the
geology, the social implications, the personal histories and much
else. It celebrates and it deplores. It stages a ‘trial’ of coal,
asking ‘Coal – was it a blessing or a curse?’ Though it has its
moments of banality and information overload, John Binias’
libretto is often witty and humorous, thoughtful and lively.
Musically the work deploys some pretty huge forces. Something like
250 performers, insofar as I could count them, were on stage
throughout. A (distinguished) brass band, a (distinguished) male
voice choir, a community choir of female voices, part of the WNO
chorus, a team of supporting solo voices, two main soloists, the
orchestra of the WNO – all contributed to a piece not lacking in
ambition and scale.
In Alexander Nevsky one always feels that the music is
essentially driven by Prokofiev’s orchestral writing, that the
words sung (who wrote them?) serve essentially to supplement and
make more specific the work being done by the instruments. In
Carbon 12 one was inclined to feel that the roles were
reversed: that Binias’ libretto carried most of the weight and
that much of Errollyn Wallen’s music (especially for the
instruments) served to clarify and reinforce what the words had to
say rather than ever really taking the lead, as it were. That is
not intended to dismiss or denigrate Wallen’s work in any way, but
to suggest that she was largely content to support and articulate
the words she was setting in a fashion that was relatively
self-sacrificing. In an interview in the programme she says that
“With me, writing music comes from the words I am setting and the
atmosphere I am trying to create. It is a question of finding the
right rhythms and the right intervals to convey the sense and
meaning of the word”. Many a composer might say that; not
so many do it in the unegotistical way that Wallen did in
Carbon 12.
The libretto of Carbon 12 is built around the “funny story”
of the funeral (and resurrection) of a kind of archetypal Welsh
miner John Jones (sung by Jason Howard) and his relationship with
his wife Bronwen (Alwyn Mellor). It is essentially a fable of
continuity and revival, the survival of the human spirit in
adverse circumstances. Libretto and music alike are able to draw
on genuine and living musical traditions (as embodied in the brass
band, the ‘amateur’ choirs and, let’s not forget, the WNO itself).
It is interesting that the WNO chose two non-Welsh artists to
create this work, a work so explicitly focused on a central
dimension of modern Welsh history. In choosing the Yorkshireman
(but Welsh resident) Binias and the Belize-born Wallen, WNO
ensured a degree of objectivity that a Welsh librettist and
composer might not have given them and avoided the dangers of
cosiness and sentimentality. Or, indeed, of their obverse emotions
– the anger and bitterness felt by many in Wales about its mining
history (and post-history). But perhaps judicious objectivity –
eventually the ‘trial’ of coal is left unresolved, the issues
being found to be beyond the human capacity for judgement – is not
the best ‘fuel’ (no pun intended) for memorable art.In
Alexander Nevsky we know whose side we are on or, at any rate,
whose side the music intends us to be on. Things are rather more
ambiguous with Carbon 12, coal being seen as both creative
and destructive, good and evil.
A writer and composer more directly and personally involved in the
Welsh coal industry than Wallen and Binias might have reached less
balanced conclusions, but the subjectivities on which they would
necessarily have drawn, the family histories, say, might also have
prompted from them music and words which, for good or ill, had
more prejudiced passion about them. As it is, Wallen’s music is
eminently accessible, well made and at times attractively melodic;
Binias’ libretto is attractively allusive, finding room for humour
and poignancy, for lists and litanies, for human sentiment and
mythic energy – to all of which Wallen responded with aptness and
fair inventiveness. But somehow the whole didn’t quite burn (again
no pun intended) with the passion and intensity which its subject
deserved. Some of Wallen’s most attractive music was delicate and
romantic, expressive of the love Bronwen (vividly characterised
and sung by Alwyn Mellor) felt for her exasperating husband (in
which role Jason Howard was a forthright vocal and stage
presence).
Carbon 12
was, in many ways an uplifting work – itself an affirmation of
traditions and energies surviving political maltreatment (with
such questions the libretto engaged only very obliquely). Despite
my reservations expressed above, Carbon 12 was, in many
respects, an effective articulation of time and place, of past
(and a little more thinly) of present. To see and hear the ongoing
traditions of Welsh music making, fused with the work of an
internationally renowned orchestra such as that of the WNO was
gratifying and exciting. Speaking as a Yorkshireman, from
coal-mining stock, who has lived in Wales for more than thirty
years, there was much whose truth I recognised and much to move
me. Listening to Carbon 12 in the Millennium Centre was an
audience more various than that normally encountered at the WNO’s
operatic productions. Wallen and Binias clearly spoke successfully
to many in that audience and even though I suspect that Carbon
12 may not be able to transcend its particular place and
occasion, it was surely a successful and worthwhile commission.
Glyn Pursglove
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