Archive for Der Rosenkavalier

Higdon, Strauss and Ravel at the National Concert Hall

Posted in Music with tags , , , , , , , , , , on February 21, 2026 by telescoper

And so it came to pass that last night I went to the National Concert Hall in Dublin for another concert by National Symphony Orchestra Ireland, this time conducted by Lio Kuokman and joined, for a performance of the Strauss’s Four Last Songs, by the wonderful soprano Celine Byrne. Given the presence of an Irish favourite it was no surprise to find the concert hall very busy indeed.

The first item on the agenda was the Irish premier of blue cathedral by Jennifer Higdon, an elegaic piece she composed on the death of her younger brother. It’s an interesting piece which is quite easy on the ear as well as incorporating some very original effects. The string section, for example, use handbells to maje gentle tinkling noises near the end. I’ve never heard this piece before and I think it’s one that will bear repeated listening.

Next came the main item on the agenda. The Four Last Songs were published after the composer’s death, so Richard Strauss never heard them performed. The very first time they were performed was in 1950 at the Royal Albert Hall, by the London Philharmonia. One can only imagine what it must have been like for the orchestra making this music live for the very first time.  Apparently the first time any of them had seen the score was when they turned up for the rehearsal. I’m sure they knew as soon as they started playing that it was a masterpiece.

Last night we heard these songs sung by Celine Byyne, who was born in Kildare. She arrived on stage resplendent in a black dress with red feathers around the shoulders. I don’t know how many times I’ve heard these songs and they never fail to move me. The opening of the first song, Frühling, is in the chest register for a soprano which is the most difficult to project over an orchestra, but Celine Byrne took it in her stride, as she did with the others. I must single out the leader of the National Symphony Orchestra Elaine Clark for her gorgeous playing of the lovely violin solo in the third song, Beim Schlafengehen. I don’t mind admitting that it brought a tear to my eye, as did the final Im Abendrot which is one of my very favourite pieces of music. I was sitting next to an elderly couple, and I coultn’t help noticing that they spontaneously held hands on the words “Hand in Hand”.

Incidentally, as far as I know the Four Last Songs were not specifically intended to be performed together as they inevitably are these days. Although the last is my favourite, I think the first three (all based on poems by Herman Hesse) have much more in common with each other than Im Abendrot (which is a poem by Joseph von Eichendorff).

After the wine break we continued with more Strauss, sort of, in the form of a suite from the Opera Der Rosenkavalier. Although Strauss allowed this to be assembled from his music as a concert work I don’t think he actually created it as such. It’s relatively brief ( just over 20 minutes in performance) that begin’s with the opera’s orchestral prelude, depicting the Marschallin’s and Octavian’s night of passion (vividly portrayed by whooping horns). Next comes the appearance of Octavian as the “Rosenkavalier”, depicted in tender gorgeous music; the sight of him looking so young makes the Marschallin realise that he will soon leave her for a younger woman. There follows the duet between Octavian and Sophie (oboe and horn) – in which their love for each other becomes ever more obvious, but this is abruptly interrupted by the discordant music associated with the clumsy arriva of the buffoonish Baron Ochsl. Next the violins tentatively introduce the first waltz, followed by another given out by the solo violin, before the whole orchestra settles into waltz mode. A general pause and a violin solo leads into the nostalgic music where the Marschallin sadly realises she has lost Octavian. Then comes its ecstatic climax. The work closes with another robust waltz, depicting Ochs at his most pompous, and a boisterous coda apparently composed for the suite. Listening to this is like a fast-forward through the opera, but it does lack the vocal parts, and I think Strauss was at his best writing for, especially female, voices.

And finally, picking up on the theme of waltzes prevalent in the preceding piece we had La Valse by Maurice Ravel. This is a great masterpiece, originally conceived as a tribute to the Viennese waltz, but not composed until after the First World War, and turned into a kind of tragic parody, starting out sombre and brooding, gradually building into a garish intensity and then into a brutal, almost chaotic, ending.

This was a very nice concert, with a varied programme and some fine playing throughout. The performance being relatively short, and wanting to avoid sitting in Pearse station for a long time waiting in Pearse Station for the 10.14 train, I broke with tradition and took a bus. I started out about 20 minutes earlier than I would have done had I waited for the train, but when I got to Maynooth at a bus stop next to the railway station, the train I would have got had just arrived….

Der Rosenkavalier at WNO

Posted in Opera with tags , , , , , , , on June 5, 2017 by telescoper

I’m in London attending a cosmology meeting (of which more, perhaps, anon) but I couldn’t resist posting a quick review of yesterday’s birthday treat: the first performance of a new production of Der Rosenkavalier by Richard Strauss. It wasn’t exactly a first night as such because it was a 3pm start. In fact it was still daylight when I got home..

Der Rosenkavalier is superficially a comic opera but it also moments of great depth and poignancy, dealing with the passage of time and the nature of love. The libretto contains some lovely passages, such as this:

Die Zeit, die ist ein sonderbar Ding.
Wenn man so hinlebt, ist sie rein gar nichts.
Aber dann auf einmal, da spürt man nichts als sie.
Sie ist um uns herum, sie ist auch in uns drinnen.
In den Gesichtern rieselt sie,
im Spiegel da rieselt sie,
in meinen Schläfen fliesst sie.
Und zwischen mir und dir da fliesst sie wieder,
lautlos, wie eine Sanduhr.

Most of the comedy is supplied by an intrigue involving the boorish Baron Ochs, played brilliantly by bass Brindley Sherrat, who wishes to marry the innocent Sophie (largely to acquire the property of Sophie’s father). The Baron engages dashing young Octavian to deliver a ceremonial silver rose to Sophie as a wedding gift. Octavian arrives with the gift but falls in love at first sight with Sophie and his feelings are reciprocated. When the Baron turns out to be the horrible git that he is, Octavian engineers a plot to discredit him, rescue Sophie from a potentially disastrous marriage and claim her for himself. The cunning plan, which proves successful, involves Octavian dressing as a maid in order to catch the Baron in flagrante.

It’s worth mentioning that the part of 17-year old Octavian is played by a female singer – in this production the excellent Lucia Cervoni – who at one point has to be a girl playing a boy playing a girl, rather like Cherubino in the Marriage of Figaro. Sounds silly? Well, it is but it was beautifully done and gloriously funny.

Octavian (right) presents Sophie with the silver rose..

Octavian is a `trouser role’ but in this production the character begins with trousers off, having a bit of rumpy-pumpy with the Marschallin (played by the wonderful Rebecca Evans), who is much older than Octavian. At the start of the Opera they are in a passionate relationship, but the Marschallin is conscious of the passage of time and that her relationship with Octavian can’t last. At the end of Act I, she points out to Octavian that their relationship can’t go on and he storms out, shortly to meet young Sophie (in Act II).

In this production the Marschallin is often accompanied on stage by the silent and solitary figure of an old lady, who it turns out is a representation of herself in later life. It’s a clever device and would have been even more effective had the old lady not reminded me so much of Madge Allsop

The staging is in period, and for the most part pleasantly straightforward but there is a rather gimmicky element of steadily encroaching sand, presumably ‘the sands of time’ referred to in the last line of the excerpt quoted above. I felt this was neither necessary nor convincing. The theme of time’s inexorable progress is clear enough. There’s no need to labour it.

Near the end of Act III, after much coming and going, and the odious Baron’s entrapment and humiliation, the Marschallin  is left alone with her former lover Octavian and his intended bride Sophie, we arrive at the Opera’s emotional high point, and indeed one of the most sublime moments in the entire operatic repertoire, the sumptuous trio Hab Mir’s Gelobt,  in which the Marschallin comes to terms with the loss of Octavian and blesses the relationship between him and Sophie. This is one of the pieces of music that really affects me very powerfully, and I am not too proud to admit that I did let go a tear or two. Maybe more. Not because it is especially sad, but because it’s so very beautiful the way the three voice blend together and with the orchestra.

I don’t give star ratings but from a vocal point of view this is definitely one of the finest performances I’ve ever seen on the Opera stage. All four principals: Rebecca Evans, Lucia Cervoni, Brindley Sherratt and Louise Alder (Sophie) rose to the challenges of their roles in great style. All were superb so it would be wrong to single out one, but I will say that I was surprised to discover that this was Rebecca Evan’s debut as the Marschallin – she was just about perfect in the role.

The Orchestra of Welsh National Opera directed by Tomas Hanus played Strauss’s lush score with great precision and passion,  holding together a wonderful afternoon at the Wales Millennium Centre. An altogether excellent way to spend a birthday afternoon!

Hab Mir’s Gelobt

Posted in Opera with tags , , , on September 6, 2011 by telescoper

Too busy for anything else today so I’ll make do with a piece of music. No apologies, however, for “making do” with one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard. I don’t admitting that this reduces me to jelly every time I hear it. Richard Strauss possessed an amazing gift for writing for the female voice, but in this trio from Act III of Der Rosenkavalier, the whole exceeds even the sum of the exquisite parts. The title, roughly speaking, means “I made a vow” but with music like this the  words are almost irrelevant…