Salzburger Zeitung - Bells Ringing, Choirs Singing

After four days of rain or threatening rain Sunday morning was bright and sunshiny without a cloud in the sky. The bells of Dreifaltigkeitskirche, just outside our window, had mercifully saved their tolling until the 8:00 am mass but after that point it seemed that not a quarter hour went by without bells of some sort resounding around the town – sometimes singly, other times in concert. There are, its should be noted something like 12 churches in the Old Town alone. However I'm not complaining as it is a lovely sound to wake up, shower, shave and breakfast to. And it set the mood for the mornings concert – Neapolitan music for Passion Week by Les Arts Florissants under Paul Agnew.

The lovely Dreifaltigkeitskirche (Church of the Holy Trinity) on the Marketplatz next to the Hotel Bristol. The bells woke us up on Sunday morning - we had to get up for the 11:00 am concert anyway and it beat any alarm clock.

Lamentations

Les Arts Florissants – a fluid collective of singers and instrumentalists – was founded back in 1978 by American conductor William Christie, chiefly to aid in the rediscovery of French Baroque music. Under his direction they fast became one of the finest period groups in the world and branched out into other genres of classical music. It always seemed to me that, unlike many of his peers, Christie knows how to bring these often forgotten pieces to life. He never forgets that they were written to be heard not studied. I found this particularly true of his performances of church music. Yes they are meant for solemn occasions – Te Deums, Requiems, Masses – but that does not mean they have to be heavy or dull. I recall once saying to a friend that their recording of the Monteverdi Vespers dances with the reflection of the sun on the canals of Venice.

The twenty members of Les Arts Florissants with Florian Carré at the portive organ and Massimo Moscardo on theorbe conducted by Paul Agnew.

Paul Agnew has had a long association with Les Arts as a leading tenor in many of their operatic and concert performances and recordings. He has only recently begun to conduct and from what I can make out is the first person other than Christie to lead the group. His career path started as a choral scholar in Oxford and continued as a member of several well known choral groups. The benefits of that path were more than shown during this concert. An economy of movement conveyed to his group of twenty singers - in various groupings - the subtle interweaving of some glorious music meant for the observance of one of the most intense periods in the church calendar.

The morning began with a short 9 part Miserere by Dominico Scalatti for cantor, chancel choir, continuo and loft choir which though lovely in itself was strange in its sonic placement. The cantor and chancel choir were behind us at the back of the auditorium, the loft choir in front which threw the audio balance off. Perhaps this would be a good time to say that the Haus fur Mozart was perhaps not the best venue for the programme being presented. A local church – the beautiful Universitätskirche has been used previously but is currently under restoration – would have been better suited but as those bells indicated most would appear to be occupied to some degree on a Sunday morning.

The next part of the programme featured 5 works including three canticles associated with Passiontide by Leonardo Leo, a quintessential Napoletano composer. The first part of the programme ended with what is perhaps his best known piece of church music, a setting of the Miserere for double choir. A complex piece with 8 voices variously alternating, imitating and in unison it was in direct contrast to the simpler Scarlatti setting that had begun the concert. Include in the Leo selections was a solo setting of the last of the Lamentations of Jeremiah, the series of five Hebrew poems which gave the concert its name. Though slightly white of tone Hannah Morrison's soprano had none of the hoot so often encountered in period singers. Her diction was particularly remarkable and she sailed through Leo's complex cadenzas with ease. Her final cry of "Jerusalem, Jerusalem, turn to the Lord your God" was haunting.

The second part began with a Crucifixus by Antonio Caldara. Though he was more closely associated with the Court of Charles VI in Vienna much of his music shows the influence of the Napoletana school. The choir navigated the complexity of this 16 part motet with a sure sense of style ending as all 16 voices, which had been heard throughout the piece in various combinations, came together in a remarkable congregational unison "Amen". It was a truly impressive piece of choral work.

The last and longest scheduled piece was a setting by Domenico Scarlatti of the Stabat mater - that great medieval poem invoking the image of the Virgin Mary at the foot of the cross. Written for St Peter's, it was a piece involving 10 individual interweaving voices and from a choral point of view had some interest but even as well performed as it was here lacked the emotional impact of so many other settings of the text.

As an encore the choir gave us two of Henry Purcell's short church anthems, as Agnew explained examples of the far reaching Napoletana influence. And I must remark that the diction in these two pieces, as it had been throughout the programme, was crystal clear even at the most complex moments. Lord, Hear My Prayer was a quiet almost cotemplative ending to a morning of exceptional choral singing.

In retrospect this was perhaps the most satisfying of the Festival presentations but again there seemed to be that spark missing that has so galvanized other years. Perhaps my tastes are changing more than I think or it may be, as I would prefer to think, that the programming needs rethinking.

11 giugno - San Barnaba aspostolo

Salzburger Zeitung - Busy Day, Busy Day, No Time to Make Desert

The second day of the Whitsun Festival (May 22) was going to be a busy one no matter how you looked at it – a morning concert at 1100, a late afternoon concert at 1830 and a movie at 2200. Plus we had to work getting ourselves watered and fed in between. Fortunately food is never a problem in Salzburg because of all else fails we simply settle into our table at the Sketch Bar at the Hotel Bristol bar and let Gunther, our favourite bartender look after us.

The lovely Grosser Saal of the Mozarteum - even with its slight air of faded gilt and velvet it remains a wonderful venue for concerts.

The two concerts were in the lovely Grosser Saal of the Mozarteum just around the corner from the hotel so a brief sun shower – yes it was actually sunny on Saturday – was not a problem. The Grosser Saal is surely one of the prettiest if not always the most comfortable of venues for concert going. Laurent has already commented on it but I am always surprised in Salzburg when the ushers don't check your tickets at the door – they are there to help you find your seat or for the elderly, and there seem to be more and more elderly people at these events, to assist you to it. But verifying your ticket – why that would suggest you would try and enter without one and they know that no one would be dishonest enough to do that!

Sonata da camera

The morning programme was a concert of sonatas for violin and a continuo of cello, lute and harpsichord featuring the renowned Italian violinist Giuliano Carmignola (left). I had never heard him and was not familiar with his work but a friend had mentioned that he was a performer who, in younger days, had taken many risks often with less than favourable results.

That was certainly not the case on Saturday morning, he played sonate by Porpora, Geminiani, and Scarlatti with finesse and a sense of baroque style that left no doubt as to why he is considered a master of music of the period. If he did let loose it was during the Fantasia from the Ayres for the Violin by Nicola Mattheis– a brilliant piece of solo playing. The later selections along with Emmanuele Barbella's Arlecchino Suite were the most interesting music of the morning and I've been investigating a few recordings of them. The Mattheis is a particularly interesting set of pieces written between 1676 and 1685 as a series of volumes and intended for both listening pleasure and as a way of teaching the Italian style of violin playing. It was often thought at his concerts that he was playing two violins at once - and that was the impression I had when listening to Carmignola played the Fantasia. I am still nonplussed at how it is done technically. It was a brilliant display of period violin playing.

Master of the Baroque violin Giuliano Carmignola with cellist Francesco Galligioni, harpsicordist Riccardo Doni and on the lute Ivano Zanenghi taking their bows.

Alte Salzburg is made up of a series of passageways that connect one main street to the other – often with an open courtyard breaking up or diverting the passageway. Most are lined with small shops selling some very high end items though there is the odd place that proudly displays the china cow dressed as Mozart with a clock on its haunches in its front window. Laurent wanted to buy one but I convinced him otherwise. As we wandered through one of those passages in search of lunch we happened upon a Sushi restaurnt – Sushi in Salzburg? Sounds like a movie title but why not? The people running it were actually Japanese, the fish was fresh and the rice of good quality – what more could you ask. Though as Laurent noted the Kirin Ichiban beer is now owned by Heiniken and made under license in Russia – ah the glories of globalization.

Piramo e Tisbe

Last year Fabio Bondi had pulled Nicola Fago's Il faraone sommerso out of his hat and revealed a small jewel of a music drama from an obscure composer (I am still waiting for a recording Mr Bondi??????) I had been hoping the same would occur this year when he gave us Johann Hasse's Piramo e Tisbe. Once again he was conducting his marvellous Europe Galente with two very bright stars of the operatic firmament: Vivica Genaux and Désirée Rantecore as the protagonists. As I remarked again later in the weekend, if a work has been left largely unperformed for 300 years there is often a very good reason.

Now I am will admit that I am basing my opinion on hearing only the first part as I left at the interval, not something I do either lightly or often. Before the performance indulgence was asked for Ms Genaux who was fighting a cold – though to be honest from what I heard no indulgence was necessary. I sympathized with her completely I was also fighting a cold, the hall was unbearably hot, I was feeling woozy (cough syrup and cold pills will do that) and had already almost strangled myself in an effort to control a coughing fit during the first act. It wasn't fair to the performers, the people around me or me for that matter. Perhaps the second part took wing but despite the obvious dedication that Biondi and his Ensemble put into it, unlike last year I didn't feel that spark that makes you question why a work has been neglected.

Vivica Genaux (Piramo), Désirée Rancatore (Tisbe), Fabio Bondi and Emanuele D'Aguanno (The Father)take their bows with members of Europa Galante at the end of Saturday evening's concert of the Hasse opera.

Napoli è una canzone

The movie was a real oddity and looked intriguing when it was announced as part of the programme. A classic of the Italian cinema Napoli è une canzone was a silent movie made in 1927 by Eugenio Perego and filmed in the streets of Napoli, the ocean around Capri and on the approaches to a smoking Mount Vesuvius.

The story is slight: an adorable Napoletana – she rescues kittens and releases dogs from the dog catcher's wagon - befriends the unhappy daughter of an American millionaire, falls in love with her friend's brother and goes with them to America. The brother, aside from being made up to look like the poor man's Rudolph Valentino, is a bit of a cad; brokenhearted and home sick she returns to her nonna, nonno and Napoli. But never fear the cad repents and everything ends in a gay tarantella. It all very silly but all very wonderful as it captures a world that has vanished in many ways but also in others has remained the same.

Of course the performances are stylized and, to our eyes, a bit over the top but it is hard not to be captured by the charm of leading lady Leda Gys. A great star of the Italian cinema she is a touch on the chubby side and has a fine sense of comic timing. Even after 80 years her lively eyes reach into the darkness and bring a smile and on one occasion a tear.

The movie has been restored though at several points reel damage is apparent and, as so often happens when different stock was used, film tint changes from reel to reel but it all adds to the charm of the film. As do the Italian title cards. I was rather pleased that I was able to read most of them but just as I was getting smug about my linguist prowess realized that they were written, as were all movie titles at the time no matter the language, to reach the broadest audience possible. And that they were displayed for sufficient time to allow someone who was educated (in small towns probably the village priest) to read them out for the less literate.

The greatest charm of the film was seeing Napoli as it was before the Second World War. Even with his primitive equipment Emilio Guattari captured wonderful scenes in small neighbourhoods, the Spanish Quarter, the Festival of San Geronimo, the waterfront, Capri, The Blue Grotto and particularly the scenes of Vesuvius smoldering and sending forth plumes of smoke as the actors cavorted in front of it.

When it was first presented in film houses back in 1927 there would have been at the least the local piano teacher plunking out a accompaniment to punctuate the action and at the most a small orchestra (in the finer cinemas of the day). At the Salzburg Keno – a strange building which I have passed more times than I can remember and never noticed – background sounds were provided by a team of “techno” composers. Their stated purpose was to provide a counterpoint to the action and in all probability they did – I sort of shut it out and when it became unbearable put my fingers in my ears. I can't say I thought it added anything to the film and was best ignored. Perhaps it would have been more interesting to have that local piano player at the keyboard guiding us through the action. Never the less it was a lovely way to spend the late evening – a look into the past with a connection to the present.

And the evening ended back at the Sketch Bar where Gunther whipped up a hot toddy to help knock the cold out of me.

08 giugno - San Medardo

Salzburger Zeitung - Betulia Twice Liberated - Part I

As has become the tradition of the past few years the PfingstFestspiele began with an opera conducted by Riccardo Muti. The first two years were opera buffa (comic operas) last year an opera seria (tragic opera) and this an Azione sacre (Sacred Theatre piece) - all in the Napoletano style.

Azione sacre was a particularly genre of opera meant for the period of Lent when the theatres theoretically were closed but the impresarios still had singers under contracts and seats to fill. A Biblical subject would be chosen, preferably one with a good moral message and set to music that was often so similar to that heard in opera that there was really very little difference. The azione sacre often included more chorus work as most of those uplifting religious subjects involved crowds praying, imploring or if they were horrid Babylonians cavorting so a choir was needed. And the work was seen in a simplified staging but often with some scenery and costumes. It was a crafty work-round the religious restrictions of the season.

Pietro Metastasio, the great Italian librettist, considered Betulia liberta (Bethulia Liberated) to be his finest azione sacre and it is easy to see why. His take on the apocryphal story of the widow Judith and her victory over the Assyrians is unusual for the subject - it was normal to accentuate the erotic end of things with the beautiful but pious widow seducing the foreign commander but in this case Holofernes never appears. Metastasio centres his story around the inhabitants of the town of Bethulia and their faith under fire during the siege. The seduction and beheading is only described by Guiditta (Judith) in a passage of recitative which is perhaps one of the most powerful descriptions of a murder I have ever heard. And the second act includes a dialogue between Ozia, the Prince of Bethulia and his captive the Assyrian Achior that is a masterpiece of Christian rhetoric and was often cited in theological discussions. It is a solid, concentrated piece of theatre with a clear message of the Power of God through faith - just the message wanted for the Lenten period.

It is thought that Metastasio's work was set to music on at least 40 occasions and for this year's Festival Muti decided to perform two version with music composed at different periods by two composers at very different periods in their artistic lives.

Italo Grassi's model for a scene from Act I of Betulia Liberata - an interesting trio of semi-circular walls revolved around each other. It was an effective use of abstract forms to convey locale and, with Marco Filibeck's lighting, mood.

In 1771 during a tour through Italy a 15-year old Wolfgang Mozart was commissioned to set the libretto by a rich patron in Padua and it was to be presented there during Lent in 1772. For some reason it was never performed then nor during Mozart's lifetime. It is obviously the work of a young composer - Mozart did not have the confidence, or his patron's leave, at that point to so much as change or omit a word of the libretto - but the music that accompanies Guiditta's retelling of her act is intensely dramatic and matches the power of Metastasio's words. And as performed by Alisa Kolosova became, rightly, the centre piece of the work. Theatrically it was stunning as words, music and performance.

It is telling that as a conductor Muti seemed to give a much importance to the recitative throughout the performance as he did to the big arias and choral moments. Speranza Scappucci's provided a pointed continuo that kept the story moving without that often mindless plunking and plucking when everyone wants to just get through it and on to the next big aria.

Though big arias there are: as can be expected some are very formula - a young man writing what is expected of him; while others show the undeniable talent that was forming. All follow the AABA format of the period i.e. Section A is sung, then repeated, Section B (often a contrasting text or emotion) is sung, then Section A repeated with variations. However often the arias are bracketed by the chorus - this is particularly true of the music for Guiditta and Ozia to heighten the emotional impact. It is a well crafted work by any composer, exceptional when you think it was written by a teenager.


With the exception of Maria Grazia Schiavo the young singers in the cast were all new to me. Schiavo appeared in last year's opera at Whitsun and this year after a slightly unsteady start - I may be wrong but I believe she was pregnant unless it was a costume decision to heighten the effect of her pleas on behalf of the besieged people of Bethulia - she delivered her arias with an honest intensity and some lovely but subtle ornamentation. It should be noted that though Muti allows his singers to ornament the da capo section of most arias it is always within certain boundaries of taste. Michael Spyres (left with Alisa Kolosova) sang the strenuous tenor lines of Ozia, the Prince of Betulia, with a fine lyric sense of style and his handling of the theological duologue with Nahuel Di Pierro's fine bass Achior was a model of recitative singing. Di Pierro brought power to his final aria as the foreign Prince recognizes and accepts the power of the God of the Jews.

Amital (Maria Grazia Schiavo) rejoices as Achior (Nahuel Di Pierro) praises Jehovah, the one god as Ozia (Spyres) and Giuditta (Kolosova) look on.

The production by Italian director Marco Gandini was a simple clear telling of the story within Italo Grassi austre setting of three revolving semi circular walls. The chorus - the remarkable Philharmonia Chor Wien - were treated as individuals and the direction of the soloists pointed up the tensions in a group under siege, the people, their leaders and the brave woman who saves them. Gabriella Pescucci's costumes were subdued and vaguely oriental in style with only Giuditta bringing any colour onto the scene - a deep marine blue gown as she adorned herself for her mission and for her triumph a red dress almost the colour of the blood she had shed to liberate her community.

Giuditta (Alisa Kolosova) describes her beheading of the drunken Olfernes in a powerful accompanied recitative that is the pivotal point in both Metastasio's libretto and Mozart's score.

If the costuming kept Giuditta as the focus of the piece so did Kolosova's performance. The young Russian mezzo has only recently appeared on the international scene and appears to have taken a path through various Young Singers projects to her current position with the Atelier Lyrique at the Paris Opera. Muti may have been taking a chance on casting her in the title rule of the centre piece of the Festival but it was a chance that paid off. As I mentioned her handling of the "azione" recitative was riveting and her arias showed a rich voice which promises much for the future.

Muti's Mozart may be a bit old-fashioned but it suits this particular work well. I am always astounded by how he is able to communicate his incredible musicality to his singers and the orchestra. His Orchestra Giovanile Luigi Cherubini is, of course, the "house band" for the festival and play beautifully under his command. The key to anything that has been presented here since he took over four years ago has been the thorough preparation that goes into what is being presented.

The entire team behind Betulia Liberata - production team, conductor, soloists, chorus and orchestra - take their final curtain call at the end of the first performance.

This may have been "minor" Mozart but as always with Muti and his troupe it was a "major" performance. It was going to be interesting to see how the older and more famous - at the time - Niccolo Jommelli handled the same subject in 1743.

All photos by Silvia Lelli for the Salzburg Festival who graciously allows free use of them.

06 giugno - San Norberto di Premontre

Salzburger Zeitung - An Overview with Dessert

Several people have asked when I will get around to writing about the various events of this year's Whitsun Festival. I been working on postings but unlike in the past two years I found that there was nothing that really grabbed me that motivated me to write with great enthusiasm. Not that any of the performances were bad - far from it, just that they did not generate the same excitement as in previous years. We didn't have a Andreas Scholl or Phillippe Jaroussky to dazzle us; nor my friends from Accordone to share their wonderful visions of Napoli; nor did Fabio Bondi unwrap another forgotten gem for us. And though Riccardo Muti did bring his incredible talents and those of his Orchestra Giovanile Luigi Cherubini to a relatively unknown Mozart piece he, for reasons that I'm sure are valid, felt that Jommelli was worthy of our attention once again this year.

I will have a few thoughts and opinions on the Festival posted shortly but in the meantime I thought I post a few photos of our favorite bartender Gunther serving us desert on Monday night.

Laurent had joking asked for a Baked Alaska, Gunther decided that Salzburger Nockerl would be the closest we'd come to it.





A 7 egg souffle, laced with vanilla sugar and cream then sauced with cranberry compote it was the perfect end to our last meal of the visit.

Looking at the line up for next year's Whitsun Festival does not exactly have me rushing at this point to book seats; though at the suggestion of genial host at the Hotel Bristol we are investigating the Mozart Week in January. The programme looks very interesting and it would be a great opportunity to see Salzburg in Winter and have another helping of Salzburger Nockerl.


27 maggio - Sant'Agostino di Canterbury