The Sacrifice, commissioned by Welsh National Opera,
is James MacMillan’s second opera. This recording, made in association
with the Peter Moores Foundation and the BBC, was made at a
performance during the work’s inaugural run and I presume the
source is a live broadcast by BBC Radio 3. The world première,
a few nights earlier, on 22 September 2007, was reviewed
for MusicWeb International by Bill Kenny. Bill saw and heard
the same cast but on that occasion MacMillan himself conducted.
I reproduce below, with one small alteration, Bill’s succinct
summary of the plot:
“After years of bitter conflict, Sian, daughter of a General marries
Mal, the leader of a nearby kingdom to bring peace between the
two warring nations. Still embittered by race hatred and jealousy,
Sian's former lover Evan stabs Mal at the wedding and is imprisoned
on the General's orders; the uneasy alliance is preserved.
[Act II] Seven years pass and at the crowning of Mal and Sian's
elder son Gwyn as the Boy King of the two united countries,
Mal welcomes Evan to the ceremony, declaring that they are no
longer enemies. Evan thinks otherwise and, consumed by jealousy,
takes a terrible revenge. [Act III] In the aftermath, when disaster
seems inevitable, the General, though badly wounded by Mal in
the former conflicts, disguises himself as Evan and deceives Mal
into shooting him in turn. On discovery, this sacrifice seals
the peace.”
The change I’ve made to Bill’s synopsis is to disguise the nature
of Evan’s revenge. In his excellent booklet essay David Nice
recommends that if, on first hearing the score, you want to
experience something of the shock that the first night audience
felt at this point then you should avoid reading ahead in the
plot synopsis or libretto. I just about managed that and it’s
worth taking the trouble.
As his librettist for The Sacrifice, MacMillan turned
again to the poet Michael Symmons Roberts with whom he’d already
collaborated on two earlier important works, Quickening
(1998) (see review)
and The Birds of Rhiannon (2001) (see review).
They have taken a story from the medieval Welsh language anthology
of tales, The Mabinogion – the source of inspiration
also for The Birds of Rhiannon – which Symmons Roberts
has skilfully worked into a parable not just for our times but
for other times as well.
The General is a former soldier, who has been injured fighting
guerrillas/terrorists (the cast list gives both alternatives).
It is the General who has decided that a marriage between Mal,
described as a reformed guerrilla/terrorist, and Sian, the General’s
elder daughter, will help to bring about a rapprochement between
their two countries/tribes/factions – one might even use the
term “kick-start the peace process”. Sian has bought into this
idea, largely out of a sense of duty, it seems, even though
this means that she must bring to an end her relationship with
Evan, the General’s right-hand man. When the action begins she
and Evan are sharing one last tryst on the night before her
wedding.
MacMillan and Symmons Roberts have been careful not to specify
any location or time in history for the plot and this, I’m sure,
is wise. At various points in the opera members of the chorus
sing either the word “Shalom” or “Salaam” usually at the same
time and thus one can easily infer that the authors have the
troubles of the Middle East in mind. However, though The
Sacrifice is a very political drama its points are put over
firmly yet without being rammed down the audience’s collective
throat. What is being put across here is a universal message
about conflict and, to be honest, that message could relate
just as clearly to, say, the Thirty Year’s War in seventeenth
century Europe, to many other subsequent conflicts and, sadly,
to conflicts yet to come. The message of The Sacrifice
is not for the faint-hearted. It’s uncomfortable but it’s one
that must be heeded.
Last year I reviewed,
with great enthusiasm, MacMillan’s St. John Passion (2008).
I mentioned then that MacMillan had said of that work that it
was composed immediately after The Sacrifice and that
the opera had a direct bearing on the Passion composition, even
to the extent that “some of the opera music has drifted quite
naturally into the new sphere”. I must be absolutely honest
and say that so far I haven’t detected any thematic cross-references.
However, the two works do share a number of common qualities.
One is that of strong musical characterisation, albeit in the
Passion there was only one solo character, that of Christ. Another
is an absolute surefootedness in dramatic pacing. Throughout
both works MacMillan maintains the tension magnificently yet
he also recognises the occasions when an element of relaxation
can provide really effective contrast amid the turmoil of the
drama as a whole. Both works also display his expertise in handling
choral crowd scenes. Finally both pieces show him to be a master
of the modern orchestra; in both works the orchestra is a crucial
protagonist and much of the orchestration is not just hugely
effective but also extremely imaginative.
In a series of mainly powerful scenes MacMillan and Symmons
Roberts move their story forward with what seems like an inexorable
momentum and the key moments in the score, especially the point
at which Evan takes his revenge, are set to music of shattering
power. The music is often red in tooth and claw although there
are several passages of genuine beauty along the way.
The success of The Sacrifice was ensured in this production
thanks to the performances of a very strong cast. MacMillan
himself selected Lisa Milne and Christopher Purves to portray
the characters of Sian and the General and both repay his confidence
with superb assumptions of roles that are vocally and emotionally
taxing.
Purves handles magnificently the General’s descent from proud
leader/peacemaker and happy father and grandfather to absolute
despair and guilt when he realises that his best intentions
have collapsed into ruin and brought about deep personal tragedy.
His guilt is magnified by the realisation that the clemency
he showed towards Evan when he attacked Mal at the end of Act
I was totally misplaced and led directly to the event that provides
the opera’s dreadful climax. It is only through deceiving Mal
into thinking that he is Evan and thereby bringing about his
own sacrificial death that the General can atone.
In Act I, at the marriage of Mal and Sian (CD 1, track 12),
the General makes a speech, which is ostensibly one of fatherly
pride and statesmanlike satisfaction. But even here you sense
that the pride and pleasure at his daughter’s wedding are slightly
forced. Purves is superbly characterful here and delivers MacMillan’s
demanding music with great authority. He’s even better at the
conclusion of Act II (CD 2, track 8) in portraying the General’s
anguished despair at the turn of events. His singing is riveting
and here my listening notes say: “words ripped out of him”.
At the terrible dénouement of the piece in Act III (CD 2, track
14) Purves is magnificent in the searing encounter between himself
and Mal.
Lisa Milne is no less fine and no less credible. She displays
resolution at the very start in breaking off her relationship
with Evan (CD 1, tracks 2 and 3). Later, however, she brings
the right amount of empathy and care to her relationship with
her younger sibling, Megan, described as a woman with the mind
of a child (CD 2, track 1). I much admired Miss Milne’s delivery
of the lyrical solo in Act I “Within an hour I’ll wear your
ring” (CD 1, track 8). Her anger at Mal’s continuing jealousy
of Evan at the start of Act II is excellently portrayed (CD
2, track 2). But it’s her participation in the graphic tragedy
of Act II that sets the seal on Miss Milne’s performance. Her
distress is palpable – even though we can’t see the action on
stage – and she sounds almost numb with grief in her solo “I
thought my hands were heaven-blessed” (CD 2, track 10). The
last line of this solo, sung softly and slowly, is very moving.
Sian dominates the closing ensemble – “Evan must see this” (CD
2, track 15) – and Lisa Milne sustains the intensity of her
portrayal wonderfully.
The rest of the cast is strong too. As Mal, Peter Hoare portrays
a man wracked by jealousy. He can never rid himself of the suspicion
– perhaps not entirely unfounded, though his wife remains studiously
loyal - that Sian has married him out of duty and that she gave
up Evan with regret. This is often a histrionic role and Hoare
sings it very strongly. Occasionally he’s either taxed by the
tessitura or, perhaps, over-sings a little in his eagerness
to give a vivid portrayal. But any such technical flaws are
pretty minor and are entirely forgivable in the dramatic context.
At root, Mal is insecure in his position. Why else would he
engage in the rather ludicrous ritual of insisting on proposing
formally to Sian less than an hour before the wedding takes
place? – he explains that up to now she’s only said yes in a
letter (CD 1, track 8). Even at the height of his success, at
the wedding breakfast, when he proposes a toast to his new bride
(CD1, track 13) his manner seems uneasy, a touch forced. Hoare
sings this passage with ringing conviction.
Mal’s driven, passionate nature is all too evident in his tense
scene with Sian at the beginning of Act II (CD 2, track 2) and
Hoare is excellent here. Later in the act Mal is given what
is in effect a big set-piece aria, “Seven years ago, to the
night” (CD 2, track 7). This is Peter Hoare’s finest moment,
I think. His singing is full of ringing assurance, even if once
or twice he sounds a little taxed at the top of his register,
and he delivers the aria with a strong emotional charge.
The other principal roles are those of Megan, Sian’s younger
sister, and Evan. I fully see the point of the character of
Megan, as the voice of innocence but I must be honest and say
that occasionally I found her music an irritant and a distraction
– oddly; Mal feels the same in Act I (CD 1, track 8). I suspect
the role works much better when seen on stage but it’s less
successful, I feel, in a purely audio context. That is not in
any way to criticise the performance of Sarah Tynan, who convincingly
suggests an emotionally vulnerable young girl. Evan is an increasingly
sinister character and Leigh Melrose brings jealous malevolence
to his portrayal in the later stretches of the work. He is decidedly
sinister in the solo “Why bring a knife to a wedding?” (CD 1,
track 15).
The chorus of WNO are superb. Their music is demanding and the
crowd scenes in which they are involved form a crucial part
of the drama. I’m sure that all the portrayals on this recording
benefit from the immediacy of live performance and this is certainly
true of the chorus, who audibly contribute to the action, and
not just through their singing.
I said earlier that the orchestra is a major protagonist in
the piece. I’m sure this is a hugely complex and demanding score
to play but the WNO orchestra acquit themselves handsomely.
I’m equally sure that it’s a fascinating score to play. Macmillan
conjures up some wonderfully atmospheric sounds in the quieter
passages – not least in the tense Prelude – and some absolutely
thunderous climaxes. Ideally I’d have liked to hear more space
around the orchestra – one has the impression that the main
microphones were positioned close to the front of the pit –
but on the other hand, the relative closeness of the balance
brings its own rewards in terms of immediacy and detail.
I was just a little surprised that MacMillan himself was not
on the podium for he conducted the first performance and he
has directed most if not all of the previous CDs of his music
issued by Chandos (review).
However, on this occasion the baton was entrusted to Anthony
Negus, a staff conductor with WNO since 1976 with a long and
impressive operatic pedigree with WNO and elsewhere. It seems
to me that he makes a very fine job of conducting this score.
In particular, he maintains the tension throughout and he paces
and holds together a very demanding work with complete conviction.
As I’ve indicated, the recorded sound is somewhat close and,
arguably, a little confined by the physical space of the theatre.
I’m sure, for example, that in a different acoustic a greater
sense of mystery and suppressed tension could be conveyed in
the Prelude, well though Negus and his orchestra play it. In
an ideal world I’d have liked more space around the sound and
for the sound to have opened up more, especially at climaxes.
Having said that, such a sound could probably only have been
achieved under studio conditions and then we would have sacrificed
the undoubted electricity of live performance. In any event,
I found that my ears soon adjusted and, in fact, the relative
closeness of the balance tends to draw in the listener.
It was interesting to make a quick comparison between this recording
and that of three orchestral interludes from the opera, included
in the Chandos
disc of Quickening. The earlier recording – also
a live performance – was made in the more spacious acoustic
of Studio 7, New Broadcasting House, Manchester and it certainly
has more space around the orchestra. The sound is very impressive
and the composer directs an excellent performance. However,
the older recording isn’t an out-and-out winner. There’s much
to be said in favour of the newcomer and in particular, in the
third of these interludes – the passage leading up to the Investiture
scene (CD 2, track 5) - the thwacks of the bass drum are hugely
exciting and play a terrifically important role in impelling
the music along. You don’t get the same effect in MacMillan’s
own account, strangely.
Naturally, as it’s a live performance, there’s a fair degree
of stage noise but I don’t think this is a drawback – once again
it adds to the immediacy of the occasion. A little applause
has been retained after each act but thankfully the audience
allowed a decent gap between the end of the music and their
appreciation. However, even when I listened through headphones
I didn’t otherwise find the presence of an audience to be a
distraction.
At the end of his review of the première Bill Kenny asked the
very reasonable question whether The Sacrifice will last
or not. In listening to these discs my task has been infinitely
easier than Bill’s. He had to assimilate the music and
the production, and all at one hearing, whereas I’ve been able
to focus exclusively on the music and, above all, have had not
only the luxury of repeated hearings but also of being able
to dip into certain sections. With the benefit of this greater
familiarity, I think I can safely say that The Sacrifice
will last. The music is magnificently powerful and often searingly
dramatic; the chief characters are convincingly drawn; and the
plot – and the message behind it – is intense, dramatic and
relevant to our times.
I have found listening to The Sacrifice an enthralling,
sometimes draining and always compelling experience. It seems
to me that James MacMillan has written yet another vividly communicative
and hugely convincing piece. This intense performance, which
brims with conviction, must be regarded as definitive and Chandos
are to be warmly congratulated on making it available. Anyone
interested in contemporary opera should investigate it without
delay.
John Quinn
Chorus and Orchestra of Welsh National Opera/Anthony Negus 
