Salzburger Zeitung 2014 #3

Though the food, wine and sights of Salzburg are part of what draws me back so often to this lovely city, central to it all has always been the music.

Whither it was in those early years for the Summer Festival, the Mozart-werk one winter or the visits to the Pfingstenfestspeile that started in 2008 the main attraction has always been the music - and the music makers.

As with any Festival there are going to be banner years and then there will be times when the stars - both astrologically and musically - don't quite align.  I'm afraid this year was one of the later.  Given the line-up of performers and works being performed it should have been a success but there was something that didn't quite work.  Perhaps it was the effect of the numerous last minute cancellations for the Stabat Mater and the Rossini Gala; perhaps it was the less than sparkling conducting in the two operas (more of which later); perhaps it was the poor choice of venue for the Otello  - even Verdi's version, as I recall from 1971, did not sit all that well on the sprawling stage of the Grosses Festspeilhaus; or perhaps it was simply that the programme didn't gel the way it was intended to.  Of the six Pfingstenfestspeils we have attended this was the one that had the the least impact musically and left the least impression.

June 8, 2014 - Religiously Rossini

Unlike many of his contemporaries Rossini did not have to rely on the church for his commissions.  He had been a church singer as a child and written several small pieces (a lovely Cantemus domino and the Faith, Hope and Charity triptych) but things of a religious nature - masses, te deums and canticles, Aves and Salves, those corner stones of church music - he composed little.  And oddly, for a composer known for the speed at which he wrote,  the two major "church" pieces that are most often performed took an inordinately long time to complete.  We were to hear both those pieces on, appropriately,  Whitsunday.

Stabat Mater/Libera me - Grosses Festspielhaus 12:00 Uhr

A photo-montage created of Giuseppe Verdi and Gioachino Rossini.
Photo Shop in Paris in 1860. akg-image/De Agostini Picture Lib./A. Dagli Orti

This midday concert had been plagued by cancellations: of the four scheduled soloists only one, Erwin Schrott, actually performed.  As I mentioned previously, several days before the concert the Festival sent out a notice that due to illness Krassimira Stoyanova and Piotr Beczala had been forced to cancel; and that Elīna Garanča felt it was too soon after her encouchement to return to singing.  Maria Agresta, Lawrence Brownlee and Sonia Ganasssi had graciously agreed to replace their ailing colleagues.  Not a bad set of replacements - though it was interesting to note that all three have very different voices from the singers they were replacing - particularly Brownlee.

I'm not sure if this - or the acoustics in the Grosses Festspeilhaus - was the reason that on several occasions Antonio Pappano and his Orchestra dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia overpowered the soloists.  In more than one post I have expressed my fondness and admiration for Santa Cecilia - they were my "home" orchestra for four years but I have also remarked on more than one occasion that Pappano does have a tendency to occasionally pull out the stops and swamp his singers.  However in the past the Orchestra and Chorus  have given me quite a few memorable moments and  I will include this concert - and the one that followed - amongst them, particularly in the Verdi Libera me.

A facsimile of Verdi's  autograph score of the 1869 Libera Me composed for the unperformed
Messa per Rossini.  Later it was to become the starting point for his 1874 Requiem.

Verdi wrote this first attempt at a passage for a Requiem in 1868-9 as his contribution to a commemorative Messa per Rossini  that had been commissioned by Giulio Ricordi as an observation of the first anniversary of the death of the Swan of Pesaro.  Each section of the Requiem was to be composed by a different hand and Verdi choose and completed the concluding words.  Unfortunately a combination of political, financial and "artistic" difficulties meant the mass was never performed.  Verdi was to use the Libera Me as the foundation of his 1874 Requiem to commemorate the death of Alessandro Manzoni.

My friend David mentioned that he had heard Maria Agresta in the difficult and thankless role of Abaigaile in Nabucco in Palermo and asked if, in my opinion, this was the right repertoire for her.   I wasn't sure if he meant the Verdi or the Rossini but frankly she seemed more comfortable in the later than the former.  Given the late replacement she may not have had enough rehearsals in what is a tricky hall but she didn't seem to have the power to ride over the chorus and orchestra.  There was an emotional coolness in her performance - in my mind this work needs some fire and brimstone:  we aren't talking redemption here but being saved from hell fire!  Though by the end she had gained power for that final pleading cry of Domine.   There is nothing quite like the Santa Cecilia Chorus in either its hushed entry after that frightened and frightening soprano entry or in full cry of terror at the day of wrath - I have heard them in the complete Verdi  Requiem three times and this is music that is in their soul and it shows forth even in this brief piece.

Antonio Pappano, soloists and the Orchestra e coro dell'Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia accept the applause after Sunday's performance of a Verdi/Rossini programme at the 2014 Whitsun Festival.   (Photo: Sylvia Letti - Salzburg Festival)

The Rossini Stabat Mater also had a difficult birth: Rossini composed it on commission from Manuel Fernánde Varela.  Rossini revered the Pergolesi setting of the medieval hymn and did not wish to be seen as challenging the older composer.  One of the conditions of the commission was that the manuscript remained with Varela and was not to be published.  Ill health meant that he had not completed the work by the time of its scheduled premiere on Good Friday, April 5, 1833 and half the piece was composed by Rossini's friend Giovanni Tadolini. Rossini was not to complete the work until 1841 and the work that premiered, to great acclaim, on January 7, 1842 was all Rossini.

Again I'm not sure if it was my seat in the Grosses Festspielhuas - about half way back centre - or perhaps a question of balance because of the change of voice timbres from the originally announced singers but there were several instances when again Pappano's orchestra overpowered his singers. This is not to say that it was less than satisfactory performance though perhaps not as self-satisfying as Schrott seemed to find it.

Maria Agresta, Sonia Ganasssi, Antonio Pappano, Lawrence Brownlee and Erwin Schrott seem as
pleased as their audience was with this performance of the Rossini Stabat Mater. (Photo: Sylvia Letti - Salzburg Festival)

I have heard more powerful Cujus animam than Brownlee's but I doubt I will ever find one that touched the heart so closely - the piercing sword was one of sorrow.  Sonia Ganassi is a singer that I heard and enjoyed often during our years in Italy however the last few times I heard her she seemed to have developed a roughness to her singing - whatever the problem was it has been overcome and she was back to a sound like black velvet shot with silver.  Her voice blended well with Agresta in the Quis est homo and both singers gave fine accounts of their respective aria - though again a touch more fire from Agresta in the Inflammatus would not have gone amiss. Schrott (Hot Schrott to his many admirers) gave a heft to the Pro peccatis - rather amusingly being a tall athletic man he  towered over his colleagues and conductor and seemed to take secret delight in it.

Once again the Coro di Santa Cecilia proved to be the backbone of the performance particularly in the hushed delicacy they brought to the lovely "paradisi gloria" passage of the final quartet and chorus.  Aside from those odd moments when the balance favoured the orchestra Pappano conducted a good if,  perhaps, not Festival standard performance.

Petite Messe Solennelle - Stiftung Mozarteum - Grosser Saal - 17:00 uhr

 

Pappano, Brownlee and a small group of the Coro were on double duty for the day with a performance of the Petite Messe Solennelle  scheduled just a few hours after they had finished the midday Stabat Mater. 

As has often been said the work is neither "petite" nor particularly "solenelle" - however it was intended more as a chamber work.  Rossini had set it for 12 singers including four soloists accompanied by two pianos and a harmonium.  It was meant for a church setting however the Papal ban on mixed choirs in church (castrated men where acceptable - fully equipped women not!) meant that it could not be performed as a liturgical act.  Rossini had been in correspondence with Pius IX in an attempt to get the ban lifted but without success.  Fortunately the edict did not apply to private chapels and the first performance took place in the personal chapel of Count and Countess Pillet-Will.  It was intended for family and friends - with Auber, Meyerbeer and Thomas being amongst the later.

The title page of the autograph manuscript of the Petite Messe Solennelle - Rossini specifies the
number of singers and instrumentation he intended. In 1866-67 Rossini expanded the work
for performance by larger forces and orchestra.

The work was  orchestrated by Rossini in1866-67 but the first performance of this expanded version did not take place until three month's after his death on February 28, 1869 - the closest date to his birthday in a non-leap year.  For the Festival performance Pappano choose to use the original chamber version with a larger chorus and four soloists.  Though the Grosser Saal of the Mozarteum may not be as "homey" as the chapel chez Pillet-Will the atmosphere was still intimate.

Pappano led from the piano (Pamela Bullock was the second pianist and Ciro Visco, the chorus master, played the harmonium) and in the Offertorium Ritornelle proved to be an accomplished pianist.   It was a simple, clean and intimate performance - just as Rossini intended.

Michele Pertusi, Lawrence Brownlee, Vesselina Kasarova, Eva Mei, Pamela Bullock, Antonio Pappano and
Ciro Visco acknowledge our applause after the Whitsunday performance of the Petite Messe Solonnelle. 
Several members of my beloved Coro di Santa Cecilia are in the background.  (Photo: Sylvia Letti - Salzburg Festival)

There is a quote somewhere - attributed to I know not who - that all this work requires is a small space (√ the Grosser Saal) two pianos ( √ Pappano and Pamela Bullock), a harmonium (√ chorus master Ciro Visco) a small chorus (√ Coro di Santa Cecilia) and the four greatest singers on earth .....  there we run into a slight problem.  Eva Mei, Vesselina Kasarova, Lawrence Brownlee and Michele Pertusi are all well-known names in opera circles and are fine singers all but on this occasion two of them seemed out of their element.  I knew Mei by reputation and a TV-cast of La Traviata live from Zurich Central Railway Station which I recall enjoying but here found her voice pinched and colourless.  Perhaps Pertusi needs a character to hide behind: on stage he can be dynamic but on the three times I have seen him in concert he has proven, as he did here, bland and one dimensional.  If the day's double duty gave Brownlee any problem it wasn't obvious here - an exceptionally fine nuanced performance that was matched by the artistry of Vesselina Kasarova who's Agnus Dei embodied everything that Rossini put into this  "last of my péchés de vieillesse".

And again that remarkable choir from Santa Cecilia proved the backbone of the performance:  joyful, rambunctious (is there anything jollier than that Cum Sancto Spiritu?) and quietly - almost whisperingly - reverential.  And as a sidebar there was an entire cheering section from the larger Coro behind me greeting their colleagues with bravi and foot stomping - as indeed had the audience.  One of the ladies had to tell me that they were part of the Coro; when I said I had lived in Rome and heard every concert they had given during that time and how much I thought of them she gave me a kiss on the cheek and said: Grazie.  A rather nice way to end a performance that was seemed indeed to be for family and friends.

Postscript:  In his preface to the work Rossini wrote:

Good God—behold completed this poor little Mass—is it indeed sacred music [la musique sacrée] that I have just written, or merely some damned music [la sacré musique]? You know well, I was born for comic opera. Little science, a little heart, that is all. So may you be blessed, and grant me Paradise!

Why do I think if I had one of those mythical dinner parties he would be amongst the guests I would want at table?

July 13 - 1814: The Carabinieri, the national gendarmerie of Italy, is established.

Salzburger Zeitung 2013 - Third Edition

Dateline:  May 23, 2013:

After the Schiff concert on Saturday we headed to the Cafe Bazar for lunch.  It was sunny, warm and a long weekend so of course the terrace was full - not a table to be had.  Fortunately the terrace of the  Cafe Sacher is right next door - but, no surprise, the same held true there.  As we stood, no doubt looking a touch forlorn if not underfed, an older gentleman waved at us and motioned to the two empty chairs at his table.  I had forgotten that it is not unusual to share tables in Cafes here with total strangers - invasion of personal space being a very North American concern.  So we gratefully joined the gentleman and his wife at a table that was perfect - one seat in the sun for me, the other in the shade for Laurent.

This photo of Cafe Sacher is courtesy of TripAdvisor

We tucked into a pleasant lunch and soon found ourselves in conversation with Herr and Frau Schmid.  Both were born in small towns in the region, moved to Salzburg over 40 years ago and have travelled extensively throughout the world.  We chatted excitedly about the Norma, exchanged anecdotes about earlier Festivals and Herr Schmid shared one of those stories that proves the world is small and seems to get smaller every day.

When he was in his teens there were still American forces in the Salzburg area where he and his family lived.  His father was a pianist in a small dance band that played at their local gasthaus on weekends.  His uncle played, if I recall, the clarinet and Herr Schmid  would fill in on the accordion from time to time.  They kept up with all the latest hits from America and where popular with the service men.

Many years later while their son Benjamin was studying at the Curtis Institute Herr Schmid paid him a visit him in Philadelphia.  He had a suitcase that needed repaired and took it into a shop where - and given the ease with which we entered into conversation I can believe this - he soon got into a lively conversation with the shop owner.  The usual pleasantries were exchanged - where are you from etc.  When he heard the name of Herr Schmid's home town he looked surprised.  The owner had serviced near there in the early 1950s and had fond memories of Saturday night dances when he and his buddies were allowed out on leave passes.  He then pointed to a photo on the wall behind his counter - there was a young GI learning against a piano, cigarette suspended from his lips, Herr Schmid's father at the piano, his uncle standing clarinet in hand and seated between them a young man playing the accordion.  There in a shop 5000 miles from home he had found a memory of his youth.  The world is indeed small.

Sunday May 19:  Biblesches Opfer
Grosser Saal - Mozarteum: 1100

To the best of my knowledge none of Jommelli's
90-odd operas have ever graced the stage of the
Palais Garnier but his person is represented on
the facade. Perhaps it is meant to commemorate
the reforms he brought to opera of the period.

Though I had heard of Nicolò Jommelli he was largely a name from the music history books; during the mid-1700s he was a composer of great renown in Northern Italy, Rome and at the court in Stuttgart before returning to his native Napoli. During the Muti years at the Whitsun Festival the maestro had featured two of Jommelli's works: Demofoonte, one of his opera seria and La Betulia liberata, perhaps his best known oratorio. In both cases, after hearing the works, I questioned the need for revival. True the opera had several fascinating passages of accompanied recitative and a trio that with some originality morphed into a duet, however I admit to remembering almost nothing about the oratorio.

Looking back to the baroque roots of the Festival and, perhaps even to the Muti years, another Jommelli oratorio had been programmed for this year: Isacco figura di Redentore. The Old Testament story of Abraham and Issac is the first great sacrifice myth of Judeo-Christian-Islamic tradition and in this version by the great Pietro Metastasio is linked with the sacrifice of Christ in the purely Christian tradition. Each time I hear a work with a libretto by the prolific Italian I am struck by the beauty of his language and his sense of drama. In the style of the Greeks much of the action takes place off stage and then is narrated in language both vivid and poetic by the participants. The description of the death of Holoferness by Judith in Betulia liberata is truly one of the most horrifying descriptions of a murder written in any language. Strangely four years after the fact I still recall Alisa Kolosova in Mozart's setting of those words – but of the Jommelli from the same year I recall nothing.

On Saturday I was struck not by the arias – as fine as examples as they were of the AABAA format – but by the recitative including passages of accompanied recitative that built to dramatic climaxes. I grew up listening to opera when recitatives were delivered to the plucking of a harpsichord at a rattling pace – for god's sake let's get this over with – by singers who's command of the language was often just phonetic parroting.  Or often  those bothersome recitatives would be cut to the bare bones and the opera almost became nothing more than a live "greatest hits" compilation.   One of the joys of this past weekend was hearing, both in the Norma and the Isacco, recitatives being used  as they were intended – to drive the story along and give the works their dramatic form.

The Angel of the Lord (Nuria Rial) brings the Lord's message
of redemption through Abramo's willingness to sacrifice his son
At times Fasolis seemed to be singing along with the soloists.

Diego Fasolis and his ensemble did indeed bring a sense of drama to the events unfolding that made it more than pretty period music. Unfortunately the mood was frequently broken by the singers acknowledging the applause – particularly Franco Fagioli, a good counter tenor, who's stage mannerisms are excessive even for a HIP performer. Roberta Invernizzi has made a remarkable career as a singer of baroque music but her's has never been one of those cool, sexless period voices - her Sara was a woman of fire, passion and devotion. The accompanied recitative and aria that began the second part spoke of Sara's anguish, anger and deep love for her family and her God and Invernizzi  poured all of that into her performance. Bass Carlo Lepore was an effective Gamari, the faithful servant and Nuria Rial delivered the Angel's messages of horror and redemption with silvery purity – as with all the singers their use of the language was exceptional.

Roberta Invernizzi and Javier Camarena as
Abramo and his wife Sara ponder the wishes
of a God who has given them a son in their
old age only to demand he be sacrificed.

The young Mexican tenor Javier Camarena delivered an impassioned Abraham – confused by his God's unfeeling command, eventually bending to his will and finally rejoicing in his compassion. The final accompanied recitative and arrioso, where Metastasio links God's sacrifice of his son to the Abrahamic story, was delivered simply and with stunning clarity.

Of Fagioli I am of two minds: his countertenor is sweet, even and with only a slight break as he dips into the mezzo range but his stage manner is affected to the extreme. As with the other singers his Issaco was delivered with conviction and a sense of drama but I found myself closing my eyes so as not to be distracted by the contortions taking place on stage.

I Barocchisti are not one of those twee early music ensembles that play pretty music – they have real “fire in the belly”. And Fasolis is not a conductor to linger – he moved the piece along giving it both pace and grace. From my vantage point I was able to watch the work of the horn and trumpet players – I am always astounded by the sounds they are able to produce on valveless instruments. It also makes me wonder why French horn sections of many orchestras – particularly Italian ensembles – with their modern instruments seem to have so many problems.

Diego Fasolis, the soloists, I Barocchisti and Coro della Radiotelevisione Svizzera take their bows
at the end of Saturday morning's matinee of Jommelli's Isacco figura di Redentore.

I have now heard three of Jommelli's works – all three at Salzburg and all three in remarkable performances by remarkable performers. I do hope fans of early music fans will forgive me for misquoting Mr Bennet but:  thank you Signor Jommelli, you have contrived to delight me quite enough.

Sidebar:  We met Javier Camarena and his family at the hotel after the performance and congratulated him on his performance. We chatted briefly about this being his first “baroque” role and how coming from largely a bel canto repertoire he enjoyed the challenge and the importance of the recitatives. I was pleased to see that he will be returning next year on slightly more familiar ground as Don Ramiro in La Cenerentola.

All performance photographs are courtesy of the Salzburg Festival © Hans Jörg Michel

May 23 - 1829: Accordion patent granted to Cyrill Demian in Vienna.

Salzburger Zeitung - 2013 - Second Edition

Dateline:  May 20, 2013:

I first saw this skyline when I was 19 years old - in the intervening 47 years
this view has never ceased to give me a small thrill of satisfaction.

Well its been a busy few days since we arrived in Salzburg. Fortunately we arrived a day early and settled into our usual room at the Hotel Bristol - the Tuscany. There had been a few changes in decor but it was still the same comfortable room we had enjoyed on our previous stay.  And though there have been some changes at the Bristol there is much that is familiar: Herr Lackner is still the gracious host, Peter is still overseeing the restaurant and bar,  Florian is doing his usual wonderful job as concierge, the ladies in the breakfast room are welcoming and Gabor has our table in the corner of the Sketch Bar prepared and waiting after the performance.  I guess I'm just turning into an old fart who loves the comfortable and the familiar.

Our home away from home at the Hotel Bristol in Salzburg - the Tuscany.
And returning to the Bristol is like coming home.

It has also been good to see old friends like Dr. M. from Toronto at his usual table and people we recognize from other years and now exchange hellos with at the Mozarteum and Haus für Mozart.  And this year some new acquaintances have been made - the Schmids a wonderful couple from Salzburg who motioned us to join them on the terrace of the Cafe Sacher at lunchtime on a busy Whitsun Saturday.  Their son Benjamin Schmid is a well-known violinist and they regaled us with stories of their travels and his path to a career as a musician.  And just this evening we met a lovely couple from England who have suddenly discovered opera and are indulging their passion for travel and music in their leisure years.

Sidd and another distinguished guest of the Hotel Bristol.

The main topic of conversation amongst us has been the centre piece of this year's Festival _ Bellini's Norma with Cecilia Bartoli.  We were all in agreement - it was of a piece musically and dramatically and one of the most moving and riveting evenings spent at an opera in a long time.  It is an evening I am going to have to take my time and write about with some thought.

Saturday 18:  Musikalisches Opfer
Grosser Saal - Mozarteum: 1100

I've always loved the gold and white, slightly over-the-top Grosser Saal of the Mozarteum.
At times the seats may be a trifle uncomfortable and the room a bit overheated but the acoustics are remarkable. 

It is often possible to be in awe of the artistry and ability of both a composer and a performer but to find them emotional unmoving: I'm afraid that is how I feel about both Bach and András Schiff.  Bach is undoubtedly one of the greats of Western music and I would be a fool for thinking otherwise but as much as I can listen in admiration I find that I can't become involved with his works. I've tried – lord knows I've tried but it just doesn't happen – and emotional response to music can't be forced.

With Schiff I find much the same – he is one of the great pianists of our time and I would be a fool for thinking otherwise and on Saturday morning I sat in awe of what he accomplished in a programme of Bach, Mozart and Beethoven. But I was left largely unmoved at the end of the programme. With the Festival theme of Sacrifice in mind he had chosen pieces in the Key of C minor.  According to the notes this is the key that has always been associated with lamantation - Johann Joachim Quantz, the flute teacher of Frederick the Great said that it is used for "the miserable affect".  Though he did admit that it could be used to  express "the affect of love, tenderness, flattery".  But also it could be used to express "an angry emotion, such as recklessness, rage and dispair".  Quite the choice there!

Another view of the beautiful Grosser Saal - one of my favourite concert venues.

So perhaps it is pushing the envelope a bit to maintain that Bach sacrificed to his art when he took it upon himself to meet Frederick the Great's challenge to create a six part improvisation on a theme the King had set out during Bach's visit to his court in 1747.   That theme from Musikalischen Opfer BWV1080 was to show up again at Monday morning's concert by the Mariinsky Orchestra in Sofia Gubaidulina's Offertorium.

Schiff's Bach was slow, reverential and frankly dull. A friend remarked in passing that listening to Schiff play Bach extended your life time by a third – I'm not sure how true that is but I certainly found the Ricercare a 6 more fascinating when Angela Hewitt played it a few months ago as part of her programme at the NAC.  With Schiff it had all the excitement of an exercise with Hewitt it had a sense of passion and commitment.

András Schiff accepts the applause of an appreciative audience at
sold out concert at this year's Whitsun Festival.

Schiff's Mozart is seen through his closeness to the Romantic rather than the Baroque and though again the artistry is impeccable only the Adagio of the Klaviersonate c-Moll KV 457 seemed to take wing.   Not so the Beethoveen Sonata op. 111. Here Schiff seemed to come into his own and the music had an emotional bite to it that made me aware that I was listening to a great pianist. There was real communication here and in the short Schumann piece he gave as an encore.  I only wish he had caught that fire a bit earlier.

Perhaps after the Italianate passion of the previous evening anything would seem a bit cool, perhaps even passionless but I had honestly hope for a bit more excitement from Schiff. What we got was an amazing display of artistry if not of heart.


22 May - 1813:  Richard Wagner is born in Leipzig. 

Salzburg Zeitung - 2013 - First Edition

The Salzburg Pfingstfestspeile has undergone quite a few changes since its first inception in 1973 as a celebration of the Baroque.  Initially it concentrated on orchestral works of the period with the odd excursion into the operatic or choral.  It was often regarded as the poor step-sister of the bigger (and better known and financed) Summer Festival until 2007 when Riccardo Muti took over as artistic director.

Under Muti the Festival, in theory, became a celebration of things Neapolitan, though even then the relationship between the stated mandate of the Festival and what was programmed was often tenuous at best.  There were several constants - the Festival began with an operatic rarity from the 17-18th century conducted by Muti and ended with a choral work - cantata, mass, oratorio - from the same period again with Muti at the podium.  His Luigi Cherubini Youth Orchestra were always in the pit and the singers were often younger singers making first appearances on the world stage.  The concerts scheduled between the two "main" works were varied in content but always high in quality.  However by year four I had found the programming had become a bit tired and there was the odd concert in 2010 that lacked real interest.  We skipped the last year (2011) of his directorship, though we did see the opera from that year's Festival - Mercadante's Il Due Figaro -  in a later performance at Ravenna.  

We also missed the first year (2012) of Cecilia Bartoli's directorship.  Her's was a controversial appointment - La Ceci has always had her detractors, but then what diva hasn't?  Rather than a predominately baroque theme last year she chose to build the programming around Cleopatra.  This allowed her to display both her interpretation of Handel's heroine in Guilio Cesare with an all star cast but also offer a varied programme of arias inspired by the historical siren.  For the remainder of the Festival she was able "to call in her markers" as an regular Festival goer remarked to me today and get some of the bigger names to present orchestral, vocal and choral programmes.  According to Festival publicity 2012 was a banner year for attendance and profits.

The programme for this year was announced - as it has traditionally been -  on the final day of last year's festival and we mulled over the idea of coming for 2013.  We mulled it over for two days then ordered our subscriptions with that air of optimism you always do when planning things a year ahead at my age.  

The theme for the 2013 Festival was announced as being one concerned with Opfer - a German word that can mean Sacrifice, Offering or Victim.  I must admit I was a bit leery as this was also the title of Bartoli's album that was being released shortly thereafter.  There had been rumours that the Decca machine was pretty much manipulating things at the Festival as a sort of classical product placement.  But a quick scan of the on-line brochure assured me that it was a varied and in many ways exciting series of performances.

So here's our line up for this weekend:

May 17:

LiebesOpfer (Love's Sacrifice):  

Bellini's Norma in a new critical edition by Maurizio Biondi and Riccardo Minasi based on an original manuscript - with Bartoli as a mezzo Norma and frankly lighter voices than we are use to in this great "romantic" work.  It should be an interesting break with tradition.

May 18:

MusikalischesOpfer (Musical Offerings) - András Schiff playing Bach, Mozart and Beethoven - piano pieces linked to Bach's Musical Offering BWV 1079.

May 19:

BiblischesOpfer (Bibical Scarifcie) - Jommelli's Isacco Figura del Redentore.  A bit of a return to the baroque origins of the Whistun Festival with a setting from 1742 of the story of Abraham and Issac.  

FrühlingsOpfer (Spring Victim) - Three ballets by Stravinsky:  Les Noces, Le Sacre de Printemps and The Firebird.

It's the 100th anniversary of the scandal that was Sacre and the Ballet of the Kirov says it will be reconstructing the original choreography that cause such a riot in the Paris of 1913.  I'm still trying to figure out how Firebird fits into the sacrifice theme but any opportunity to it and the Kirov... 

May 20: A day crowed with events.

PolitischesOpfer (Political Sacrifice)

Where the Mariinsky Orchestra is Valery Gergiev can not be far behind - or in front in this case.  A fascinating programme of two works that had political repercussions for their composers: Sofia Gubaidulina's Offertorium and Dmitri Schostakowitsch's Symphony #13 - Babi Jar.

ReligiösesOpfer (Religious Sacrifice)

The marvelous with Hagen Quartet plays Haydn's Seven Last Words of Christ from the Cross - with Alfred Brendel (!!!!) doing the meditative readings.  

VersöhnungsOpfer (Reconciliation Offering)

Brahm's Ein deutsches Requiem bears no resemblance to the traditional mass for the dead but speaks to the reconciliation of the soul with its god.  This performance should be interesting on many levels:  it features Cecilia Bartoli, René Pape and Daniel Barenboim conducting his West-Eastern Divan Orchestra.  Made up of young musicians from all over the Middle-East, and I do mean all-over, it is reconciliation in the true meaning of the word.

I must admit that looking over the programme - particularly that busy Monday - that we would have to sacrifice a few things ourselves - like aperitivo and eis caffe on the terrace of Cafe Bazar or dinner in the Sketch Bar at the Hotel Bristol. But somehow I think we can fit it all in.

May 17 - 1866: French composer Erik Satie is born.

Salzburger Zeitung - 2013 Edition

Yes it looks like we'll be making it back to Salzburg for the 2013 edition of the Pfingstfestpiele.  Its been a bit touch and go the past few weeks - are we going or are we not?  I won't go into the sordid details except to say that the procedure at the Heart Institute last week determined that I do have a heart and that it is functioning, after a fashion, and should I follow a programme of exercise, diet and medication will for awhile yet. 

Now I'm not sure if the schnitzel at Triangl, Bazartost at Cafe Bazaar or Salzburger Nockerl at Hotel Bristol are on that diet but we shall have to see.  But I'm sure that a climb up the Kapuzinerberg and a stroll through Hellbrun Palace are considered exercises.  And the programme that Cecilia Bartoli has created for this year's festival is sure to be as soothing and healing as any medication a doctor could prescribe.  So I'll just look on this as following the doctor's orders.

Actually this trip was planned almost a year ago - the tickets for the Whitsun Festival go on sale a day or two after the current festival ends.  In a gesture of mad optimism - and let's be serious about this you have to be optimistic to book these things a year in advance at my age - I booked tickets for a rather full Whitsun weekend (more about that later).  As the months progressed the vacation plans became more elaborate with each passing week until we had a full two weeks of traveling in Germany as well as five days in Salzburg.

If things had been going according to plan this morning we would have gone to services at Dresden's Frauenkirche and about now we would be entering the Semperoper for a performance of Halévy's rarely performed La Juive - yes David I know another bloody French grand opera!  And tomorrow we would be boarding a paddle wheeler for lunch at the Meissen Factory.  However the "best planned lays of mice and men" often go up the tubes - to mix and mangle my metaphors.  As it stands now tomorrow evening (Monday) we will be heading to either Frankfurt than onward to Munich or London and onward to anywhere in Germany where we can catch a train to Munich.  Such are the vagaries of travel on airlines passes.

We'll be traveling with our little buddy Sidd and he's been given strict instructions to have me write a bit about our experiences at this year's Festival.  So hopefully at his urging I'll be posting another edition of Salzburger Zeitung.

May 12 - 1754:  Franz Anton Hoffmeister, German composer and publisher of the works of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Clementi and Von Dittersdorf, was born.

Salzburger Zeitung - Edition III

Though it is always wonderful to discover new places – the glorious few days in Palermo springs immediately to mind – going back to the familiar is equally as satisfying. It was my blog buddy Opera Chic who introduced me to the Salzburg Whitsun Festival. Oh I knew it existed but it was her reports on the 2007 event – the first under Riccardo Muti – that piqued my interest and got me to thinking about attending in 2008. This is the third year that we've head north to Austria, the banks of the Salzach and the warmth of Bazar Tost and coffee mit schlag.

The past two years our trip has taken us by train up through Northern Italy – Trento, Balzano – and we had decided to follow that same pattern this year. However the newly restrictive – only regional trains going north of Verona – train schedules meant a change of plans and I popped a pill and boarded a flight to Vienna Wednesday and after a few days in Vienna we boarded a train for Salzburg.

Austria is a country that I have had a love-hate relationship with since my first visit to Salzburg back in 1969. There are events of recent history that I find difficult to reconcile with a country of such beauty, history and culture. And I still recall an episode on that first visit to Salzburg that made me aware of how geographically close Berchtesgarden was. But I also have such good memories of three seasons at the summer festival in the glory days of the early 70s and the past few years that I have been able to share the town with Laurent, so maybe its time to forget what happened all those years ago.

Opened in 1903 the Bristol stands where once a palace of the brother of the Prince Archbishop Wolf-Dietrich lived. It has been owned and operated by the Hubner family for the past 75 years and the tradition continues, Frau Dokter Hubner retired this year and has turned the managing over to her son. It is one of my favorite hotels in the world for so many reasons but mostly because of the people.

And staying with the familiar we have settling into the Hotel Bristol once again, the Tuscany Room, same lovely room as last year and giving ourselves over to the care of the wonderful staff - though we were sadden to hear that at 70 the Frau Dokter decided to retire and leave the running of the hotel to her son. Her animated presence always added to the home-like atmosphere. But the front desk staff has remained unchanged - welcoming and friendly and our favourite barman Gunther is still doing what he does so well - tending bar, making warm, funny conversation and making you feel that you are at home. In a conversation with Frau Dokter last year she said that the secret to her success was always her staff. During hiring process she would conduct several interviews and see if the candidate was the type of person who honestly liked people. Because, she said, she could train anyone to do anything in the hotel business but liking people could not be taught. Her people like people.

The Festival this year is following the normal pattern of several concerts book-ended on the Friday and Monday by two works conducted by its artistic director Riccardo Muti (pictured at the left) with his Luigi Cherubini Youth Orchestra. Both are settings of Betulia liberata by Pietro Metastasio, the great Italian author of over 150 opera librettist. It recounts the Old Testament story of Judith and the beheading of the tyrant Holfernes. The first version is a staged opera by Mozart written when he was still in the womb or shortly after delivery and never performed in his life time. The second is an oratorio to the same libretto by Niccolo Jommelli, a Napoletano composer of an earlier period. Frankly last year I was underwhelmed by his opera seria Demofoonte so it will be interesting to hear how he's oratorio stacks up against a young Mozart.

In Salzburg if it isn't Mozart, then it Sound of Music; if it isn't Sound of Music then its Amadeus. I'm not sure if the Capezzoli di Venere that Saleri talks about when he attempts to seduce Constanze in the movie really were a known confection in those days - but they are now. And they come in pairs.

Saturday was a busy day: a morning violin concert of music by various Napoletani at 1100, a performance of a Hasse cantata lead by Fabio Bondi with Vivica Genaux and Desiree Rancatore, two bright lights in the opearatic firmament at 1830 and then at 2200 an Italian silent movie classic Napoli e une canzone (Naples is a Song) with live musical accompaniment. We left the Hasse at the halfway point - more about that later - but I am fighting a cold and the hall was hot. It is uncomfortable and I was subject to some coughing fits. So we headed back to the hotel and Gunther served us a nice supper at our regular table in the hotel bar. After the movie he whipped up a hot toddy that if it did not cure my cold certainly put me to sleep.

Sunday morning brought a remarkable concert of sacred music by Les Arts Florissants and the Festival comes to an end with Monday morning's performance by Muti. This year rather than rushing to catch a train after the morning concert we'll spend Monday in Salzburg and return to Vienna Tuesday morning. It should be a rather peaceful day in the town as Whit Monday is a major holiday in Austria. Most businesses will be closed and many of the festival goers will have left though between music festivals, Mozart and the Sound of Music its a wonder there is ever an off-season in Salzburg. Though Gunther tells us that the hotel closes between the end of January - the close of Mozart Week - and Easter as there is almost no business at that time.

It seems there is always the sound of music in Salzburg - and no I don't mean the Doe a Deer thing - it may be a one man band playing near the bridge, or one of those ubiquitous Peruvian flute groups but more likely it will be a brass band on a Sunday morning in the Mirabel Gardens or maybe just the bells sounding the hour or celebrations. At 1500 yesterday the bells of the Franzikarnerk rang to celebrate a wedding - next thing I knew the Cathedral bells had joined in - and then those of St. Peter's. It was a glorious cacophony of peels.

I'll be writing about the various events and goings on in the next few days - sort of like this cold - in drips and dribbles. Which is probably not a word picture you really needed! Meanwhile Gunther has delivered one of his signature hot toddies ... so here's looking up your old address and down the hatch!

23 maggio - Pentecoste

Whitsun 2009 - Monday Morning

My darling OC was right - Giovanni Paisiello is an absolute genius! And that was more than apparent on Monday morning's final concert at the Felsenreitschule. His Missa Defuctorum has a career almost as varied as that of its composer. It was originally written for a performance in memory of members of the Bourbon royal family who had died during the smallpox epidemic that devastated Napoli in 1789. Ten years later, for the funeral of the exiled Pope Pius VI, it was expanded to include new choral work and a Funeral March written at the request of Napoleon earlier that year. This unlikely history has led to it being referred to as "a unique mixture of obsequiousness to the Jacobines and homage to a Pope." It was this 1799 version that Riccardo Muti choose to end this year's Whitsun Festival.

Riccardo Muti conducts the Orchestra Giovanile Luigi Cherubini, La Stagione Armonica and soloists in Paisiello's Missa Defunctorum.

It is a Mass in the grand style - Muti led four soloists, a double choir of 60 voices with choir soloists, two brass choirs and an expanded Orchestra Giovanile Luigi Cherubini. The sound in the Felsenreitschule was remarkable and placement gave the impression of the Mass being sung in a great cathedral.

Pride of performance has to go to La Stagione Armonica under Sergio Balestracci. This remarkable group of singers soared to the heavens one minute and sang in hushed wonder the next. The dynamics of their performance were exceptional as was the work of the soloists from within their ranks. The four major soloists - Beatriz Diaz, Anna Malavasi, Juan Francisco Gatell and Nahuel Di Pierro - made exciting work of the great Dies Irae sequentia. The center piece of the work, it is a remarkable piece of music. Less dramatic than many other settings it has a lyrical almost sorrowful approach to the Day of Wrath - it lacks the power of the great settings but still has considerable emotional depth.

Again this year from our vantage point we could observe Muti at close quarters. It sounds hackneyed but he seems to have an almost sorcerer's control over his performers. Not a movement is wasted - no dancing, bobbing and weaving - and with his left hand he seems almost to pluck the sounds of out the air. And his forces responded to every nuance and details he wanted from this work. As I said this is not one of the great settings of the Mass for the Dead but it is one that when it is directed with such authority and affection demands to be heard.

I have mentioned in all the previous reviews the audience response and this time I was able to capture some of it on video however have not been able to transfer it. So lets just say that the applause was prolonged and heartfelt.

Again, a brilliant conclusion to a festival that this year only seemed to get better with each passing day.

Photographs by Sylvia Lelli - from Salzburg Festival Webside.

04 giugno - San Francesco Caracciolo

Whitsun 2009 - Sunday Morning

When I was growing up counter tenors were a rarity - Alfred Deller with his early English group was the one often heard and then mostly in twee English hey-nonney-nonney-nymphs-and-shepherds stuff. However in the past 15 years the voice type has become almost ubiquitous to the point that not too long ago William Christie gave a performance of Landi's Sant’Alleso with 13 - count them - 13 counter tenors in various roles.

Of course there are counter tenors and there are counter tenors - I recall a few at the Opera Kameralna in Warsaw who sounded like strangled chickens, but then I’ve heard a few sopranos on recent broadcasts from the Met who sounded the same way - it isn’t restricted to voice type. But putting those aside you have the likes of Andreas Scholl, David Daniels, Brian Azawa, Behjam Mehta, Daniel Taylor and Phillippe Jaroussky.

Last year we heard Scholl, one of my favorites, and this year Salzburg gave us Jaroussky. Of the lot the young French singer has perhaps the sweetest voice and he gave us amble opportunity to enjoy that sweetness Sunday morning.

Laurence Paugam, Jean-Christoph Spinosi, Philippe Jaroussky and member of the Ensemble Matheus being cheered to the rafters at Sunday morning's concert.

Sensibly he realized that an unbroken string of arias would be a trifle hard to take - pax Demofoonte - and brought along Ensemble Matheus to dazzle us with Vivaldi and Telemann. Let me get the one irritant out of the way first - the ensemble leader Jean-Christophe Spinosi resembled Nicolas Sarkowsy on a caffeine high. He had obviously had one too many expresso that morning, his antics both while conducting and during calls were at first amusing but ultimately irritating. However he proved himself an exceptional violinist when he and Laurence Paugam gave us a dazzling Vivaldi Concerto for two violins. It was almost possible forgive him for his inane clowning. In the second half flutists Luis Beduschi and Jean-Marc Goujon gave us another display of virtuosity with Telemann’s Concerto for two flutes.

But the main attraction was Jaroussky - and he showed us why he has been award classical singer of the year twice by the French music industry. His programme of eight arias was inspired by the career of the great castrato Farinelli - music written for him by Poppora, Hasse, Giacomelli and Duni. It ranged from the heroic to the pastoral and let us hear the full range of his talent. The beautiful Sposa, ... non mi conosci, from Giacomelli's Merope, was heart rending and listening to the lovely aria with flute obligato - a wonderful intertwining of voice and instrument - from Duni's Demofoonte, almost made me wish it had been this version we had seen on Friday night. As I mentioned he shines in sweet lyrical singing and gave us displays of his exceptional technique in some beautifully floated passages in two arias from Poppora's Polifemo and here in particular the da capo coloratura was exceptional in its seeming simplicity.

Again a stomping, cheering audience brought him back for two encores and even though the lights had come up and some people had begun to leave, called him, Spinosi and the ensemble back for another round of bows and applause.

02 giugno - Sant'Erasmo di Formia

Whitsun 2009 - This and That

The old town of Salzburg is known for its shop signs not only on the famous Getreidegasse but on the side streets leading off the Domplatz and Residenzplatz. Here are a few of them plus some randoms thoughts about the past few days.

• It’s rather strange that in Italy, where so many rules are ever so gently skirted, the non-smoking policies are strictly observed in bars and restaurants, while in Austria smoking is allowed everywhere. I had forgotten that there are no smoking restrictions in most places in Austria. And boy do those Austrians love to smoke - the air at the Cafe Bazar on a rainy Friday afternoon was a delicate shade of nicotine gray. The other thing that I’ve noticed in Austria is the number of drunks - particularly near the train stations - you see on the streets. A drunk is something you very rarely see in Italy unless its a young tourist freed from the restrictions of home - generally Italians don’t drink to get drunk but as an enjoyment.

• After 30 odd years - and I do mean odd - I guess Laurent and I have habits that we don’t even think about anymore. On Saturday afternoon we were having lunch at Nordsee - a fast food fish restaurant chain - and a young lad at the next table was watching us with some bemusement. I wasn’t finishing my vegetables and Laurent was absent-mindedly spearing roast potatoes from my plate as we talked. I guess every old couple has these little quirks..

• I was in Salzburg BTSOM (Before the Sound of Music) - my first visit was in August of 1969 when most people were coming for the Festival or to visit the house were little Wolfgang sprang into the world presenting it with a symphony he had written during delivery. Two years later the town had been taken over by blue-haired ladies of both sexes, some dragging long-suffering spouses along, on their pilgrimage to see the sacred spot where Christopher Plummer had kissed Julie Andrews, the place where they were married and the Von Trapp family schloss. Now almost 40 years later it is still a big industry in town - if it doesn’t have Mozart’s picture on it, guaranteed it will have Julie Andrews skipping over hills that are alive! Even the world famous Salzburg Marionette Theatre does a wooden puppet production - though a few cynics ask how that is any different from the film?

• People can be deceiving - take the audience at the Festival. They appear to be a conservative, even slightly dour, group of upper middle class people in the 60-65 range. That is not to say there aren’t young people in the audience its just that this sort of Festival and its rather pricy tickets do attract a certain demographic. The dress is conservative and there is often a whiff of mothballs as evening dresses and shawls are pulled out of armoires for the annual airing. When not sporting tuxedoes Gentlemen tend to wear suits, even to the morning concerts, and many Austrian men wear their formal trachten and the ladies are garbed in elaborate dirndls which can be stunningly beautiful but are still very traditional. When you reach your seat it is still considered good manners to greet the people on either side of you with a good morning or evening and even to say auf wiedersen on leaving - though the strolling counter clockwise in the reception room I recall from my first visit has given way to the general bustle of any theatre lobby.
  
  As I said very traditional and conservative - until it comes time to pay tribute to the performers. At that point decorum is thrown of the Untersberg - cheers ring out, feet are stamped rhythmically and the applauding and bravoing can go on for a good 10 or 15 minutes. This is an audience that knows its music and what it likes - and when they like a performer they are not shy about letting them know. One of the joys of this Festival is seeing the smiles of the musicians as they are called out for the fifth or sixth time. There must be a great feeling of satisfaction to feel that much appreciation and love sent in your direction.

• Its been a long time since I have stayed in a hotel like the Bristol - probably the last time was over 25 years ago at the old Plaza Hotel in New York. The Bristol is still family owned and operated and nothing, and I do mean nothing, is too good for its guests. Frau Doctor Hubner, the charming owner, and her son seem to be on duty 24 hours - though I’m sure they do get some rest. In conversation with the Frau Doctor she mentioned that the first thing she looked for in an employee was a love of people, everything else could be taught. They do not have a large staff but a very dedicated and exceptional one and there isn’t one of them that doesn’t live up to her requirement. Take Gunter, the young bar man. Tall, slender, boyish, a bit gangly, he has a smile that lights up the room and an open desire to make sure his guests are happy - and boy can he mix a martini.

01 guigno - Santi Marcellino e Pietro