RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Benjamin BRITTEN (1913-1976)
Peter Grimes (1945)
Alan Oke (tenor) - Peter Grimes
Giselle Allen (soprano) - Ellen Orford
David Kempster (baritone) - Balstrode
Gaynor Keeble (alto) - Auntie
Alexandra Hutton and Charmian Bedford (sopranos) - Nieces
Robert Murray (tenor) - Bob Boles
Henry Waddington (bass) - Swallow
Catherine Wyn-Rogers (mezzo) - Mrs Sedley
Christopher Gillet (tenor) - Rev. Horace Adams
Charles Rice (baritone) - Ned Keene
Stephen Richardson (bass) - Hobson
The Chorus of Opera North with the Chorus of the Guildhall School of Music
and Drama
Britten-Pears Orchestra/Steuart Bedford
rec. live, Snape Maltings Concert Hall, 7, 9 June 2013 (66th Aldeburgh
Festival)
SIGNUM CLASSICS SIGCD348 [73:55 + 64:01]
One of the highlights of the Britten Centenary year in 2013 has been Tim Albery’s
staging of Peter Grimes on the very beach at Aldeburgh where the opera
was set. Reviews of that performance have been adulatory, and those of us
who didn’t make it will soon have a chance to see it for ourselves when
the film of the production arrives in cinemas. Before taking to the beach,
however, the same cast performed the score in concert, and it is that performance,
captured over two nights, that we receive here. Let me say from the outset
that it is superb, able to look in the eye any Grimes in the catalogue
and not to suffer from the comparison.
The first glory of the set is the quality of the recorded sound, captured
in the incomparable acoustic of the Snape Maltings. Every instrumental voice
comes out brilliantly, from the deep brass in the Dawn interlude through
to the haunting viola solo in the Passacaglia. The score is played
brilliantly by the Britten-Pears Orchestra, clearly rising to the thrill of
the occasion, and the whole thing is directed with security and laser-like
vision by Steuart Bedford, that most experienced of Britten conductors. Listen
to them tear through the Storm interlude, every section giving it their
all from the wailing strings to the dark winds and a percussion section that
never stops, suddenly pulled up by the shimmering emergence of the What
harbour shelters peace theme. The Passacaglia is particularly well
controlled with Bedford generating screw-tightening tension, and the Moonlight
interlude is full of poignant suggestion.
The singing cast is top notch, too. Grimes is such a fiendish role to sing
because he is so contradictory, and interpretations have ranged from Pears’
visionary poet through to Vickers’ rough brute. He’s an outsider;
that’s intrinsic to Britten’s understanding of the character.
However, Alan Oke’s achievement is to humanise Grimes and to bring him
closer to the audience’s experience than perhaps any other singer on
record. Gone are the extremes of Pears or Vickers, but they are replaced with
a fully rounded portrayal of the character that is very refreshing. He is
the victim of chance in the Prologue, which ends with a searingly honest duet
with Ellen, and we already see him as the victim of the Borough’s suspicion
in the first scene when no-one will help him to pull in his boat. Key, however,
is the dialogue with Balstrode at the end of that scene where Oke spells out
Grimes’ plans in a surprisingly believable way - does anyone really
think that Jon Vickers will ever settle down with Ellen? - and we sympathise
with his re-telling of the scene of the apprentice’s death. Then What
harbour shelters peace lifts the music up to a whole new plane of transcendence,
as if he (and, indeed, we) can feel his dream within palpable reach. It’s
incredibly powerful, and it makes Grimes’ eventual fate all the more
tragic. Oke’s Grimes is a victim of circumstances and of his own character
flaws; not a wholly innocent one, certainly, but a man for whom things could
have worked out very differently. In this sense, the scene where he strikes
Ellen is very much the turning point of the action, the point of no return
where his fate seems to be sealed: “God have mercy upon me!” sounds
like a wail from the soul. His fate remains tragic, though: he sounds haunted
in the pub scene when he recalls the death of the first apprentice and his
recollections of that event temper the savagery of the hut scene. His account
of the final mad scene is one of the finest I’ve heard because it recalls
how humane the voice was earlier in the opera and so shows us how far this
character has fallen. Oke’s is an interpretation for the ages.
Giselle Allen, who was a thrilling Ellen when I saw Opera North’s astounding
production in Newcastle, makes every bit as much of the role here. She keeps
a touch of the histrionics in her aria, Let her among you without fault,
and rightly so as she is using it to reprimand the villagers for their moral
superiority. She is, touchingly, full of hope in the opening scene of Act
2 when she imagines her new start with Peter, but this evaporates when she
notices the tear in the apprentice’s coat and her cries of “Hush,
Peter” seem devoid of hope. Her embroidery aria is the culmination of
this, encompassing so many broken dreams but never in a mawkish or indulgent
manner, and the beauty of her voice is helped by her excellent acting ability.
David Kempster’s homely voice makes Balstrode approachable and humane,
the closest thing to an intermediary that we will find in the piece. His dialogue
with Grimes at the end of the storm scene is sympathetic, showing clearly
that he is on Grimes’ side, and this makes his injunction to Grimes
to commit suicide all the more heartbreaking, even more so because of the
matter-of-fact tone in which he delivers it.
The smaller parts are all cast from strength too, so that the crowd scenes
all bristle with colour. Gaynor Keeble is a formidable force as Auntie, coming
into her own in the pub scene where she clearly rules the roost. Catherine
Wyn-Rogers draws laughs from the audience as a paranoid Mrs Sedley, though
she sounds genuinely ominous in the first scene of Act 3. Robert Murray’s
slightly nasal voice sounds appropriately nasty as Bob Boles, though Charles
Rice is slightly anonymous as Ned Keene. Henry Waddington is a bluff, vigorous
Swallow in the mode of Owen Brannigan.
Perhaps even more important is the role of the chorus, the backbone of which
is fittingly provided by Opera North, whose Peter Grimes was one of
the most powerful nights I’ve ever had in the theatre. They chant anonymously
(but still dangerously) from the sidelines in the opening inquest scene and
sing the dawn music with great beauty but also a sense of hollowness. They
are hair-raising in the climaxes, such as the arrival of the storm at the
end of the first scene, or the blood-curdling unison that sees out the end
of Act 1. In Act 2 the speed with which they close in, first on Ellen and
then on Grimes, is chilling and this culminates in a thunderous gathering
of the mob in Act 3. It’s a chilling reminder of how dangerous this
crowd can be, yet how indifferent they are in the final analysis.
All told, then, this is an outstanding addition to the Peter Grimes
discography, worthy to set alongside the finest in the catalogue from Davis,
Hickox and, most authoritatively, from Britten himself. Everyone involved
rises to the special nature of the occasion and gives of their very best.
This is a set to invest in with confidence, and to continue enjoying long
after the Britten centenary has passed. The full libretto (in English only)
is included in the booklet, together with an essay by Colin Matthews and brief
artist biographies. The audience, by the way, is extremely well behaved, so
don’t be put off that it’s a live recording.
Simon Thompson
A set to invest in with confidence, and to continue enjoying long after the
Britten centenary has passed.
Britten review index & discography: Peter
Grimes
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