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SEEN
AND HEARD BBC PROMENADE CONCERT REVIEW
Prom
70, Messiaen, Saint François
d’Assise :
Soloists, Chorus of the Netherlands Opera, The Hague Philharmonic
Orchestra/Ingo Metzmacher.
Royal Albert Hall,
7.9.
2008 (CC)
Rod Gilfry (baritone) St Francis
Heidi Grant Murphy (soprano) Angel
Hubert Delamboye
(tenor) Leper
Henk Neven (baritone) Brother Leo
Charles Workman (tenor) Brother Masseo
Donald Kaasch (tenor) Brother Elias
Armand Arapian (baritone) Brother Bernard
Jan Willem Baljet (baritone) Brother Sylvester
André Morsch (baritone) Brother Rufus
Olivier Messiaen’s magnum opus, here receiving its Proms
premiere, decidedly needs to be experienced complete. Back in the
eighties, Ozawa conducted a series of tableaux at the RFH, and made
a tremendous impression, but the effect of St Francis when
heard in entirety is overwhelming. Interesting that I still remember
the final pages of Ozawa’s performance (it looked like he was going
to take off in the blaze of light that is the final chord), and
recall it as being overall rather more overtly
emotional than Metzmacher’s.
Still, one needs to bear in mind that
the
overall nature of the opera is, after all, static. The work is a
succesion of eight scenes (“Tableaux”)
divided into three acts which together last over four hours (not
including intervals). This performance began at 4pm and ended at
9.40pm, with two intervals (one of 20
minutes, one of 40). The vast procession of scenes, like so many
frescoes in sound, is awe-inspiring; not to mention demanding on the
performers. The Hague Philharmonic played in exemplary fashion
throughout. Messiaen requires that concentration is never allowed to
flag, and the achievement of this was probably the orchestra’s
finest contribution.
The
choice of subject seems perfect for Messiaen—not least because of
the element of birdsong that is so intrinsic to the Franciscan
legend. Messiaen also refreshes plainsong by adding his own piquant
harmonies. Now it is not only Parsifal, it seems, that is a
religious festival in the theatre.
The ‘action’ takes place in the thirteenth century. Most of
this ‘action’ is contemplative in nature (remember that
‘contemplation’ is in itself an action) but episodes in St Francis’
life are depicted: the encounter with the leper (not only
significant for the healing, but also for St Francis’ overcoming of
his own lepraphobia); the several encounters with the angel; the
Sermon to the Birds; the Stigmata; and finally, St Francis’ own
death. Each character is assigned various themes and bird song, with
the Angel and St Francis having the lion’s share of associated
material (the other characters are limited to one theme and one
birdsong each). The closest we come to “action” in the traditional
sense is probably the brief exchange between Brothers Leo, Bernard
and Masseo before the Sermon to the Birds, and presumably this is there
to set the Sermon itself into even higher relief.
As far as staging is concerned, on paper
at least,i t is
arguable that there could be a parallel here between St Francis and
Duke Bluebeard’s Castle. Yet, whenever Bluebeard
appears in the concert hall, there seems to be no associated desire
to see it staged, no awareness of lack; with St Francis, despite its
slow-moving nature, one felt that a stage (particularly colour on
the stage) would add an extra, and necessary, dimension. Here, we
had the blaze of white light at the end, plus sundry lighting
effects along the way, none of which were particularly
awe-inspiring.
What was awe-inspiring though, was the stamina of the
singers, and Messiaen’s own compositional
mastery. The composer’s palette by this time (1973-83) was so
highly developed that one could only sit
and marvel at the complete rightness, and consistency, of the
scoring. He makes demands on players and singers, to be sure, but
none are absolutely unreasonable, as this performance proved.
Orchestral highpoints included the two Concerts of Birds in Act
II, where clearly detailed rehearsal
had paid off (remember the opera had formed part of this
year’s Holland Festival, reviewed by Bill Kenny
here on
MusicWeb and staged by Pierre Audi—who controversially, in my
view, had Francis preach to schoolchildren, not birds. I see the
parallel, but birds, with all their religious significance, are
surely indispensible here!)
The brave man taking on the title role was Rod Gilfry. Immediately,
in the opening scene with Brother Leo (a meditation on what
constitutes joy), Gilfry asserted his stage presence and his equally
confident, large voice, a superb instrument that is rounded in all
registers. It was only in Act 2, in fact, during his Sermon to the
Birds (the opera’s Sixth Scene) that tiredness seemed in evidence
(although the voice righted itself for the final act – perhaps the
hour interval here helped!). His static prayer that opens Scene Five
(“The Angel-Musician”) was gorgeous, the perfect way to introduce
the Angel into the scene. The eighth, final scene (“Death and the
New Life”) was Gilfry’s finest moment.
In fact, as impressive as Gilfry was, the
Angel, American soprano Heidi Grant Murphy, who sang with impeccably
pure, white-toned beauty. When Murphy sang her section “God dazzles
us by excess of Truth”, Messiaen’s tissue-delicate accompaniment
caused a collectively held
breath from the audience; her response to the death scene of
Francis (particularly the line, “’Tis he, ‘tis the leper thou hast
embraced!”) was exceptionally beautiful.
Armand Arapian took the part of Brother Bernard. His voice was very
warm, but there was unnecessary air around the notes. Henk Neven was
Brother Leo, an important role in that it plays an indispensible
part in Scene One and also provides the intensely sad reaction to
Francis’ death in Scene Eight, was impressively delivered in the
most lovely fashion. Of the smaller roles, too, special mention must
be made of tenor Hubert Delamboye’s heartfelt assumption of the part
of the Leper (and, by the way, how astonishingly radiant is
Messiaen’s accompaniment to the actual healing itself!). The chorus
of the Netherlands Opera was simply stunning. Apart from the
set-pieces, there is frequent use of a
wordless choir as part of Messiaen’s tonal armoury. Whatever was
demanded of them, be it subtle, hypnotic line-spinning or ecstatic
outcry, they provided it in spades.
Bill Kenny ended
his review with the optimistic statement that, “Early booking would
be both advisable and worthwhile” for this Proms performance,
implying an understandable stance that one would have to be mad to
miss this. A position I would have had to concur with at the time—so
where was everybody? The gallery and circle was all but
deserted, there was ample space in the amphitheatre for people to
sleep (they did), not to mention whopping great gaps in the stalls.
A wet and overcast Sunday, true, might not be the ideal impetus for
a trek into town, but one has to weep when one sees a limp
wristed British response such as this. And that the
performance fell on a Sunday is no excuse either.
Look at how many people turned up to Lang Lang
and compare and contrast the musical pay-off too. Perhaps
someone could issue this performance on disc? I for one would love
to hear it again, and maybe then, thousands
of people could at least hear what they missed.
Colin Clarke
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