Interlude » Juliette

Opéra ci, Opéra là

Eliza — Sat, 10 Mar 2012 16:01:28 +0000

I read two interesting articles recently. One was about the Metropolitan Opera, whose spokesman proudly informed Times Magazine that the average age of subscribers is much younger now, “dropping from 66.4 in 2005 to 64.8 in 2011” – which, let’s face it, isn’t that much younger.

The other was a report in the New York Times, about The Phantom of the Opera reaching its 10,000th performance on Broadway just this February.

This made me wonder: why does the opera attract mostly older theatregoers? Looking at the numbers for The Phantom of the Opera, it’s clear that younger audiences enjoy a good musical performance. So why the age skew?

While it’s true that both of these articles focused on the musical scene in New York, I think the scenario is comparable in other big cities. I recently visited London and Paris, and managed to catch three operas and one musical over the course of ten days. I saw Don Giovanni and Così fan tutte at Covent Garden, where Le nozze di Figaro was also running. All three were comic operas that Mozart wrote with his famous librettist, Lorenzo Da Ponte.

Don Giovanni was exceptionally good. The title role was played by Gerald Finley, who was mesmerising not only for his deep, intense baritone voice, but also for his appearance. During the last scene with the Commendatore, Finley was half-naked. His toned and muscular body would’ve seduced most of the female audience even without him having to hum three notes!

Così fan tutte was not exceptional, in terms of singing, but was most enjoyable thanks to the remarkable acting. The best part was probably the translation of the libretto, which was brilliant. The action was transposed into a 21st century setting and the language was modern and witty, containing references to modern-day life that made the plot that much more relatable and entertaining.

On average, the audience might have been in their 50s, but there were also some younger groups who sat through the show, happy and high-spirited, commenting and laughing.

I then went to the Opéra de Paris in Bastille for Massenet’s Manon. Massenet is not Mozart, but I went to see Nathalie Dessay, who was playing the part of Manon. One can only imagine my disappointment when, once seated inside the auditorium, I discovered that Madame Dessay was not going to be performing, with no reason or apologies given.

Other patrons around me were equally disappointed, and according to my companion, this is not the first time the diva bowed out. With so many offers to perform, the only way to preserve her voice would be to cancel some of her performances last minute. The organiser obviously can’t complain, since her name was the real box office draw.

If I had been alone, I would probably have asked for a refund. When I did try to lodge a complaint, I found out that the Opéra de Paris does not even have an email address. The only way to contact them is to send a letter by post! Perhaps it’s little wonder that the younger generation would be turned off.

Anyway, Manon was three hours of boredom. The singing was mediocre and the staging — created by Coline Serreau, a film director long past her expiry date — was ridiculous. Opéra de Paris might want to take a cue from the English National Opera and innovate, though it must be said that not every director can be Anthony Minghella.

The last performance I saw was Wicked in London. Again, Stephen Schwartz (composer and lyricist) is no Mozart, but I enjoyed it much more than Manon. The music was pleasant and the singing and acting were well above average.

The audience consisted of children accompanied by their grandparents, young couples and groups of friends. During the intermission, theatre staff ran up and down the rows selling ice cream and drinks, contributing to an atmosphere that was joyful, relaxed and enthusiastic. That is what I call entertainment.

Let’s compare opera and musicals, shall we? Both are live performances, with a supporting orchestra and a cast that can sing (eventually), act and sometimes even dance and fight. There is usually a more or less beautiful score with a more or less silly plot. If the composer is talented, the more memorable arias can remain hits for decades.

Yet the opera, with its exorbitant ticket prices, ‘cultural’ image and audiences comprising only high society types, scares away a great number of potential audience members. Nowadays, a good number of patrons visit the opera for its social status. Just like carrying a brand-name handbag, the opera is an occasion to dress up and be seen.

It’s easy to forget that the opera was the ‘musical’ of its time. The famous La Scala in its early days had patrons gambling, horse dealing, even preparing food while at the same time, listening to the performance. Like musicals, the opera is, at its core, entertainment for the masses.

Così fan tutte has as much potential as The Phantom of the Opera to reach ten thousand performances, if only it were more accessible – something that can be achieved with a bit of repackaging. If the directors of opera houses can learn to reach out, and conventional opera patrons can stop looking down with stiff upper lips at the younger audiences in jeans, then we might yet see a genuine drop in the average age of subscribers. It’s never too late.

Related video:

Gerald Finley – Tosca
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Photo 1 : Gerald Finley as Don Giovanni at the Royal Opera House / credit : http://www.musicalcriticism.com/

Photo 2 : Così fan tutte at the Royal Opera House / credit : http://www.operatoday.com/

Photo 3 : Wicked / credit : http://www.thepensivecitadel.com/

Manon review by the Wall Street Journal :
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052970203471004577144510626003858.html

Music for Broken Heart

Eliza — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 16:01:10 +0000

To stir and to soothe

It’s Valentine’s Day again. Just a year ago, I wrote about Valentine’s Day gifts and love-inspired music. So why is it that this year, I want to write about music for a broken heart?

First, I think sweetness can sometimes lead to bitterness. Everything has its natural ending, and nothing really endures forever. Indeed it is a very rare love that lasts till ‘death us do part’.

This article is for my friend M, who was betrayed, rejected and humiliated by the man she loved and trusted most. Though nasty breakups are all too common, it was terrible that her dreams and passion were reduced to a nightmarish vaudeville.

Very few people know how to fall out of love with elegance. But take heart – not everyone is a monster out there. So, to my dear M, you must remain confident that life is beautiful and that there are good people with genuine integrity who know how to love with honesty and respect.

As luminaries throughout the ages will tell you, music is of great help and consolation during hardship. It is proof of how wonderful this world is. And as I compiled my list of music for a broken heart, I realised with some irony that it was almost identical to the one I did for Valentine’s Day last year.

I guess the wonder of beautiful music is that it is a balm of equal strength for both endings and new beginnings. Like a wise old friend, it cheers me up whether I am happy or sad. It stirs gratitude in me for what I have and eases regrets for what I have lost.

I won’t repeat my entire Valentine’s Day list from last year, though I would like to dedicate Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto once again to those with a Valentine this year. I’ve chosen the Second Movement, followed by a thought:

Mozart: Clarinet Concerto, Second Movement
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]
Time decides whom you meet in life…
Your heart decides whom you want in life…
But your behaviour decides
Who will stay in your life.

And to those without a Valentine, here’s the beautiful Schubert Piano Trio no. 2 by Beaux Arts Trio, followed by a quote from Maharishi Ramana:

Franz Schubert: Piano Trio No.2 in E flat, Op. 100, D. 929, 2:
Andante con moto
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]
Never search your happiness in others, which will make you feel alone. Search it in yourself; you will feel happy even when you are left alone.

Photo credit: http://psychcentral.com/

Interlude is two years old!

Eliza — Wed, 18 Jan 2012 16:01:11 +0000

And it has been two wonderful and exciting years for me.

Through Interlude, I have met outstanding musicians, learned the fascinating history of talented composers and discovered inspiring new pieces. My knowledge and appreciation not just for music, but for life as well, have been tremendously enriched.

Although it is far from perfect, Interlude has grown. We have improved the homepage, the content and hopefully also the technical support available to you. Traffic to Interlude has increased steadily from its humble origins as a Hong Kong-based website, and the majority of our visitors now hail from the US and Europe, raising the site’s international profile.

So, first and foremost, I want to thank all of you for your thoughtful support and messages. I hope you enjoy visiting Interlude and will continue to browse our pages for a long time to come.

I also wish to extend a personal thanks to my team: the technical support group, my assistants and my web designer, Terry. What you see and hear on the site could not have been possible without their hard work.

Our international contributors have also been invaluable in helping us fine-tune our content, while the kind support of both Naxos and Harmonia Mundi has made our music section rich and colourful. I also wish to extend my gratitude to Alain for his wonderful Forgotten records, Sebastian for his special video clips, and Stephane for his input and inspiration.

And, of course, I wish to thank my family for their quiet and abiding support.

Here’s to many more years of Interlude and celebrating music!

Harmony

Eliza — Fri, 23 Dec 2011 16:01:15 +0000

Making room for the good

It seems like just yesterday that I was scratching my head in front of my computer, coming up with resolutions that begin with an H. And here I am again, one year later, wondering what to wish for in 2012.

The year 2011 went by so fast, full of highs and lows, ups and downs, great concerts (too few) and disappointing ones (too many). At the end of the day, I guess the most important thing is to remember the happy moments, and let go the bad ones. A Chinese proverb comes to mind, which goes something like this: “If the bad does not go away, there’s no room for the good to come.”

So I’m letting go of the bad to focus on the good. I will fondly recall Piotr’s English Suites, and our moments together in Shanghai. Of the local concerts, Anne Sofie von Otter’s Grieg was a pure gem, and Alexandre Tharaud’s Scarlatti was of course unforgettable.

However, it is the moments I shared with loved ones that defined 2011. For me, one of the highlights was ballroom dancing lessons with my son, Gabriel. He’d overheard me telling a friend that I would love to learn to dance properly, but my husband is not into dancing and has no sense of rhythm, and I am not prepared to hold my own arms or get in close bodily contact with a little young thing who is practically my son’s age. What’s a girl to do?

So when I asked Gabriel whether he wanted to do something special over the summer, he suggested ballroom dancing, and I accepted with enthusiasm, of course (he then backpedalled a bit and added, “… maybe some hip hop too?”, which I of course declined). So we enjoyed something of a dance tasting menu, since time was limited by Gabriel’s working schedule. We did a bit of waltz, cha-cha, tango and rumba. Personally, I really quite enjoyed the cha-cha, which was easy and casual, while Gabriel’s favourite was the waltz. Tango was a definite no-no for a mother-son combination, being a bit too intimate and sensual (a tall, mature, dark-haired Latino would have been preferable, but they are not easy to find in Hong Kong).

Another highlight was a sweet weekend tête-à-tête in Milan with my daughter. As we shopped, dined and strolled in the streets, we exchanged bits and pieces on life, relationships and aspirations. And of course, since we were in Milan, we had to visit La Scala, where we enjoyed an exceptional performance of Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette. We also stopped by the Santa Maria delle Grazie to visit Da Vinci’s famous Last Supper.

I later returned to Milan for another week with two childhood friends, for more wonderful girl talk (or rather, woman talk) about life, our careers and men we love(d). While there, we visited an outstanding Artemisia Gentileschi exhibition and ventured out to the beautiful Villa Necchi Campiglio, where the 2009 movie I Am Love was shot.

And of course, I spent an unforgettable week in Fukuoka with my mother. It melted my heart, watching her discover a new city, enjoy yakitori and teppanyaki with gusto, or simply admire the autumn colours. We exchanged girl talk as well, discussing life, achievements and the men we missed.

As I look back, it is these precious moments with loved ones that I resolve to define my year with. I consider each one unique and invaluable, every bit to be treasured and never taken for granted. With the sweetness of these moments on my tongue, I shall embrace 2012 in Harmony.

For 2012, I wish my readers a wonderful year full of Harmony, and of course, Music.

Videos:

Two of my favourite men: Piotr and Bach
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Harmony: Martin Fröst and Mozart
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Alexandre Tharaud: A Study in Passion and Focus

Eliza — Wed, 09 Nov 2011 16:01:20 +0000

When I first began collaborating with Harmonia Mundi, a wonderful classical music label headquartered in the south of France, they sent me a batch of CDs, among which were several by the prominent young French pianist Alexandre Tharaud. I had never heard of him, though with pieces by Rameau, Satie, Debussy, Couperin, Chopin and Bach, he certainly offered an interesting repertoire. Just going by his CD covers however, I had my reservations. Could this handsome young man, with his boyish good looks, really tackle such a varied repertoire? Or was this yet another PR gimmick – packaging music with a pretty face? (To be fair, this is not Harmonia Mundi’s style at all.)

But you know what they say about judging a book by its cover. I duly chose a CD, and being an unqualified Bach fanatic, I started with the Italian concertos. And boy, am I glad I did, because his Bach surprised me, as did his Satie and Couperin, and Rameau as well. And then I encountered Alexandre live at a recital in Paris, and I was spellbound. His rendition of Scarlatti had me glued to my chair. He treated the audience to a Scarlatti that was beyond Scarlatti, and as his fingers bent the instrument to his tune, I became intensely curiously about the man behind the music.

Luckily for me, Alexandre was in Hong Kong last month, for his first visit to the city. He kindly agreed to an hour-long interview even with his busy schedule, which is how I found myself in the rehearsal room of the HK Sinfonietta, chatting with a soft-spoken, well-mannered and articulate artist who expresses himself the same way he plays the piano: with precision and elegant eloquence.

Alexandre’s story began like this: he started learning piano at the age of five. Unlike many other five-year-olds however, young Alexandre embraced the process of learning and practising with gusto. Discovering a desire to create, he also took extra lessons in composition and conducting. This passion continued into his teenage years even as the work became more demanding. But this only intensified Alexandre’s passion for the piano, and to this day he still describes it as his best friend.

What might strike some as odd is the fact that Alexandre doesn’t keep a piano at home; in fact, he hasn’t done so for the past 13 years. Instead, he practices at friends’ houses – a decision I can fully understand. After all, personal space holds all sorts of distractions. For the past six years, Alexandre has also been taking a one-month sabbatical each year, allowing him to step back from his audience to pause, reflect, absorb and plan. But one month is all he will allow himself, since too much introspection can sometimes create confusion – something we can all relate to, I think.

As an artist who lives and reflects on his craft, Alexandre remains connected to past, present and future. Even as he reflects on his last recording of the complete Beethoven Piano Concertos, he is preparing for his next project – a topic he prefers to remain mum on, although he promises a real surprise. Even now, he still wishes to revisit his old recordings from more than ten years ago. And when asked how he unwinds after performing, he replies, true to form, that he prepares his pieces for his next concert.

That’s not to say that Alexandre doesn’t have other interests aside from his music. He practices meditation and yoga, and loves photography. If you visit his website, you will find his photos at the link, ‘Carnet de Route’. Each photograph tells a different story and evokes a distinct emotion: curiosity, perhaps, or discovery, playfulness, aesthetic beauty, or loneliness… all open to interpretation and all distinct puzzle pieces that make up the man behind the music.

The Alexandre I met is a fascinating individual. Through Interlude, I have encountered musicians who have moved me to tears with their music but surprised me unhappily with their personality. This was not so with Alexandre, who revealed himself to be a determined and focused individual who is demanding with himself, yet at the same time open to exploration and new experiences. Underneath his poetic looks, he is a sensitive and attentive aesthete who is, at the heart of it, a musical force to be reckoned with.

I hope he will return to Hong Kong soon, and that you will get the chance to be swept away by his music, the way I was.

Alexandre Tharaud Biography :
http://www.interlude.hk/front/in-sight/alexandre-tharaud/

Alexandre Tharaud Website :
http://www.alexandretharaud.com/

Discography:
http://www.harmoniamundi.com/#/artists?view=disco&id=648
http://www.naxos.com/person/Alexandre_Tharaud/747.htm

Photo Credit:
http://www.emiclassics.com/

Tchaikovsky Again?

Eliza — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 03:03:08 +0000

BBC Music Magazine asked ten critics to name the masterpieces they found most boring – a good trick to create buzz and drive forum discussions.

How then do you qualify a boring masterpiece? For that matter, if the piece is boring, how can it be considered a masterpiece to start with? Personally, I think all masterpieces can be boring, and most music can be masterpieces, all depending on who’s performing.

Although our local music scene is becoming more invigorated, I still find very little creativity when I look at the programmes. On the menu, we have the usual crowd-pleasers such as Bruch, Mendelssohn or Tchaikovsky’s violin concertos, or perhaps Rachmaninoff, Chopin and again, Tchaikovsky’s piano concertos. These are among the usual top ten concertos found on your standard Christmas gift CD – recognisable melodies and easy listening for newcomers, thus a virtual guarantee for the box office. So we get the same pieces over and over again, performed either by the latest competition winners or by established veteran musicians.

Let’s take Tchaikovsky’s violin concerto performed by a young winner of a major competition as an example. Although it was performed with almost impeccable technique, it was unfortunately musically bland. I was bored to death and spent most of the concerto going through my to-do list for the next day. On the upside, he was cute, confident and knew how to talk to the audience. To finish, he played a typical show-off Paganini piece as an encore (yes, another crowd pleaser), and the whole audience went berserk, to say the least – especially the female portion of it.

I know it is very difficult for young musicians to display depth and maturity of interpretation at such an early stage, but they should perform less popular pieces that might bring a sense of refreshing novelty to their performance, even if they have yet to master deep musical insight.

The very same Tchaikovsky was also performed by a well-known violinist, and this time, I did not even bother to go. I have heard her play many times and know for a fact that she is absolutely brilliant in recitals, with her intimate interpretation and introvert personality. However, she is definitely not meant to be thrown in the middle of a crowded orchestra. As it turned out, I made the wise choice, since I was told afterwards that she was completely overpowered by the orchestra, and that the performance was merely mediocre.

The problem is that most established artists think they are almighty and can perform any repertoire, from solo to chamber music to concertos, sometimes even insisting on conducting at the same time. To me, the true masters know where their strength lies, and will choose a particular genre to focus on – recitals, chamber music – as well as a certain period, such as baroque or romantic. They persevere and fine-tune their perception, understanding and mastery of the music shades to deliver a real gem to the public which, whether a masterpiece or not, is definitely not boring.

At a recent prominent French competition, all four finalists chose to play Tchaikovsky’s piano concerto, making it easy for the orchestra, and probably the jury too, since it is so obvious to spot the best interpretation when all the candidates are playing the same piece. But just think of the poor audience, having to sit through Tchaikovsky four times – now this is when a masterpiece becomes boring!

Let’s sit back and enjoy masterpieces performed by the masters – yes, the same Tchaikovsky again.

Related videos:

David Oistrakh: Tchaikovsky Concerto (1st Mov.) Part 1

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Horowitz: Tchaikovsky Piano Concerto No. 1 ii

[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Roméo in Milan

Tracy — Thu, 21 Jul 2011 16:01:57 +0000

I love Italy.

Italians have a particular sense of elegance – refined, understated and polished, with delicate attention to detail. They are probably the most sophisticated Europeans. Yet their food is unpretentious – simple but so heavenly delicious – not to mention the desserts and the wine. And, of course, there’s the culture – the architecture, arts, music and opera.

I haven’t been to Milan in years, and the last time I went, it was for a whirlwind one-day meeting with a fashion house. All my previous visits were for business, so I lacked the opportunity to explore the history of the city, much less spend an evening at a concert or opera.

My trip in June was therefore very special. I took my daughter Melissa to discover Milan with me. It was her first visit, and mine too, as a tourist. I secured tickets to La Scala and booked a city tour. I tend to dislike tours and crowds when I travel alone, but it was the only way for us to get to see Da Vinci’s Last Supper.

As it turned out, joining the tour was a good decision and perfect timing, because the itinerary included a visit to La Scala. Once there, I was enlightened on the opera house’s history, and visited its small museum and listened to historical anecdotes before attending the evening performance.

That night, I had my première encounter with Gounod’s Roméo and Juliette, which I had never heard before apart from a few arias. It was musically pleasant and enjoyable, though not the most outstanding work of art, in my taste.

The staging was faithful to the time during which the story is set. There was no fancy transposition, no moving the set into the 21st century, although the portrayal of Juliette felt a little exaggerated. Watching her jump around giggling and gesticulating was annoying, even if she is supposed to be a 14-year-old. Nevertheless, the young Mexican soprano Maria Alejandres was charming as Juliette. Before long, her resplendent voice, appealing physique and enthusiastic acting won the hearts of the audience.

Brazilian tenor Fernando Portari, on the other hand, was quite disappointing at first. His voice sounded modest and indecisive. I must say, however, that my expectations of tenors are usually quite low. This is going to be just another average opera tenor de service, I often tell myself. But 30 minutes or so into the performance, Portari’s voice began to open up and gain more assurance. His ensuing arias even featured controlled nuances and delicate colours. In the end, Portari seduced and moved the audience. His talent generated genuinely warm applause. He was definitely the right Roméo for the evening, winning not only Juliette’s heart, but those of the entire Milanese audience.

The highlight of the evening for me was the Canadian conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin. Melissa and I were sitting in one of the side boxes and almost had to lean forward to have a full view of the stage. But with the whole orchestra positioned under us, it was amazing to watch the musicians move and interact. I was especially struck by the conductor, whether he was leading the orchestra or accompanying the singers, his enthusiasm and energy were remarkable. I was also impressed by how well he knew the score. He sang passionately throughout, including Juliette’s arias!

Overall, we had a great time, but the whole point of this article, is not really about Milan, La Scala or Roméo, it is about my evening with Melissa, because there’s nothing more gratifying and satisfying than sharing one’s passion with someone you love.

Related videos:

Maria Alejandres – Je veux vivre from Roméo and Juliette
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Mariella Devia & Fernando Portari – duet from Anna Bolena
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducts the Rotterdam Philharmonic
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Photo credits: calitreview.com, en.wikipedia.org

Groupie for Suite No. 6

Tracy — Tue, 14 Jun 2011 07:50:37 +0000

This is not about a luxurious hotel suite somewhere in a remote, romantic hideaway where I spent a wonderful weekend.

No, this is about Bach and one of his English suites, not the average suite played by a ‘lambda’ pianist. I have always preferred Bach’s English suites over his French suites, not because they are more complex or difficult, but because the musical structure touches me more deeply.

And among the English suites, I have a very special appreciation for No. 6. I have listened to numerous recordings from well-established pianists and my favourite has long been the one by Glenn Gould, until the day I heard Piotr Anderszewski’s – a revelation.

No, I am not going to describe in multiple paragraphs the complexity, colours, delicacy, expressionism or whatever of the execution of the suite. I am not qualified for this particular task, as I am neither a professional music critic nor a journalist.

The only thing I know is that when Piotr plays the No. 6, I can feel butterflies in my tummy!
And I suspect I’m not the only one.

Last month, when Piotr held his first recital in Shanghai, with No. 6 featured on the programme, I knew I could not possibly miss such an important event. I have a reputation for being a die-hard sans gêne groupie, but in Shanghai, I met my match.

The concert took place at the Shanghai Concert Hall. Chinese audiences are still learning when it comes to attending public performances, and although their behaviour has improved tremendously of late, it can still be annoying for performers to hear people talking, moving about, coughing and clapping at the wrong times. Nevertheless, after the concert, the audience was wonderfully enthusiastic and queued up very quickly for the autograph session.

I was hanging around observing the crowd and silently commiserating with Piotr who, after giving his all in a demanding programme consisting of Bach, Schumann and Chopin, still had to undergo an hour of CD-signing and posing for photographs.

In the long queue that had formed before Piotr, my attention became fixed on a girl wearing a Snow White backpack and a Sailor Moon hairdo. When at last she appeared face to face with Piotr, she quietly stood before him, watching him sign his autograph. She stared at Piotr’s hand, touching his fingers, holding them first, then clung to his arm, as if eager not to let the moment end. Piotr then lifted her over the table and placed her on his lap!

The rest of the signing session seemed to glow after that moment between Piotr and Jennifer – yes, that’s her name – who loves taking piano lessons. She is five years old.

This represents the magic of No. 6! No age boundaries, no inhibitions – just love rising from your gut, as best expressed by body language.

And what a wonderful way to approach artists. Jennifer is now my idol.

I think I will adopt her strategy, although I might do without a Snow White backpack and a Sailor Moon hairdo!

Bach: English Suite No. 6, Gavotte I

Photo credit: allstarpics.net

The Royal Wedding

Tracy — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 16:01:53 +0000

Well, writing about the royal wedding – yes, the one with Will and Kate – seems a bit passé now, but I’m here to talk about the music, not the wedding itself.

The day of the royal wedding, I was in Seoul with a bunch of good friends. I didn’t watch the wedding live since we were having a much better time celebrating a business venture, toasting new friends, savouring fusion cuisine, sipping Dom Pérignon and listening to classical music.

But the next morning, I received loads of emails about “Kate’s beautiful dress”, and “they kissed twice!”, and “Oh! Cinderella’s evil stepsisters (Princesses Eugenie and Beatrice) were there”. So I decided to have a look and get in on the action.

Although I do agree that Kate’s dress was definitely classy with, mind you, lace from Calais, I am not the kind of person to spend hours in front of a screen ogling celebrities, unless they are musicians, of course. So I did not pay enough attention to notice the accompanying music. It was only when I got back to Hong Kong that it was brought to my attention. During a meeting, my friend Daniel asked me, “Did you notice that beautiful piece of music during the royal wedding?”

He was talking about Ubi Caritas et Amor by Paul Mealor.

So I returned home and watched most of the available royal wedding clips (which took a long time). I also checked the music list on the Royal Facebook page and pretty much listened to all of the pieces (but not the complete songs, I must admit), and I must salute Daniel because Ubi Caritas et Amor is definitely the piece worth mentioning.

Ubi Caritas is a hymn of the Latin Church, used as one of the antiphons for the washing of feet on Holy Thursday. The Gregorian melody was composed sometime between the 4th and 10th centuries.

The royal wedding version, Ubi Caritas et Amor, was rearranged for a choir by Paul Mealor, Reader in Composition at the University of Aberdeen. There is also a beautiful version by the French composer Maurice Duruflé.

Let’s listen and reflect on charity and love.

Related videos:
Paul Mealor: Ubi Caritas et Amor
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Maurice Duruflé: Ubi Caritas et Amor
[There is a video that cannot be displayed in this feed. Visit the blog entry to see the video.]

Wedding music programme

Photo credits: googletrends-aryo.blogspot.com, zimbio.com

Shabby Butterfly!

Tracy — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 16:01:22 +0000

I was in Paris for a few days to meet a very special friend, and managed to get a couple of tickets to Madame Butterfly at the Opera Bastille. I hadn’t intended to write about this event, for the very simple reason that there was really nothing to write about. But the feelings of frustration overcame me and finally, I ended up with this article.

The last time I saw Madame Butterfly was in London, performed by the English National Opera (ENO) and directed by Anthony Minghella. The whole experience was like a fairytale; it was so spectacular and mesmerising that it changed my whole stance vis-à-vis opera, which has been quite different since. Even so, I went to this performance without any expectations, as it is hard to live up to Minghella. But considering that it was in Paris, it really shouldn’t have been that bad.

To start with, there is nothing to say about the music. After all, Puccini will always be Puccini, and Butterfly always Butterfly. Although most of the score is quite simple and occasionally too dull for my taste, there is still a substantial number of splendid sections that deserve special attention. The Orchestre de l’Opera National de Paris is normally very good and of a decent standard, but unfortunately that day was not their day, and their delivery was very bland.

Robert Wilson, a highly regarded figure in the opera world, did a one-man show of directing, stage setting and light designing, all in one go. However, multitasking seemed to be too much for him as the stage was reduced to an arrangement of black and white cardboard and the lighting was just a projection of different colours on a neutral background. As for the directing, the whole cast (dressed in white and black again!) was moving like Kabuki dancers, only at a much slower pace.

About the cast (sigh), there is less than nothing to write. Micaela Carosi as Cio-Cio San was probably the best… starting from Act II. Throughout most of Act I, her voice sounded unprepared and off tune. However, I have learned to be a bit more lenient with age, because at the end of the day, artists are not machines – they do have their off days. Maybe she was tired or had a fight with her boyfriend, who knows. And we can forget about Pinkerton, a.k.a. James Valenti. I could hardly hear him unless the orchestra stopped playing.

What then, was the best part of Madame Butterfly? Probably the programme brochure, which was beautifully produced with several articles about Japan, extracts from Pierre Loti’s writings, and lovely vintage photos.

So why am I writing this article? Well, to share what a waste of time and money it was, and the absurdity of showcasing a very average spectacle as “a major production on one of the most important operatic stages.” I still recall the moment when Cio-Cio San and Suzuki both froze while the orchestra continued playing monotonously. My companion, a regular opera goer, looked at me with despair and whispered, “This is really long!” Oh, how I missed the other Madame Butterfly, the ENO production with Minghella. But I guess talent is hard to come by.

At the end of the opera, the public went berserk and nearly gave them a standing ovation. And as for all the praises I heard at the exit – well, did I miss something? Or is the Parisian audience becoming more ignorant and less demanding? Anyway, next time I should stay in and spend a quiet evening with friends, which is sure to be more rewarding and enjoyable.

Paris (3)

My short stay was, of course, all about dining, drinks, gatherings and outings.

There was too much to see and alas, too little time. I did, however, manage to visit the Modern Art Museum for a major Jean-Michel Basquiat retrospective and the Jeu de Paume for a stunning collection of André Kertész photos.

I was also treated to meals at a few Michelin-starred restaurants. Much like my feelings expressed above about the Shabby Butterfly, these experiences were disappointing. They were not only a waste of time and money, but also of calories. After all, you have to book weeks in advance to endure pompous and snobbish service, pore over a complicated menu which takes a quarter of a page to describe a roast chicken, not to mention the prices…

My experiences watching Madame Butterfly and dining at the Michelin eateries amounted to a kind of rip-off that left me with a bitter aftertaste. The sense of superiority exuded by a certain crowd in Paris makes them look ridiculous and I am pretty sure they will soon be out-performed by authentic talents.

Now for the positive part.

The first is Thoumieux. This new restaurant was opened by Jean-François Piège, the ex-chef of Les Ambassadeurs, who decided to go his own way and start all over again. This is a small and cosy restaurant that only seats 20, with a simple and short menu and reasonably priced fare. The open kitchen needs some improvement in ventilation, but makes the whole venue friendlier and the chef more accessible. This is a place I would definitely recommend, and it is also very comforting to see a new generation coming up with creative and simple ideas.

Another positive was a wonderful dinner in my friend’s kitchen, where I had the best poutargue toasts I have ever tasted. Both the evening and the meal were wonderfully memorable. Unfortunately, he is not ready to open his own restaurant yet.

And there was that unforgettable afternoon when we listened to Haydn and Vanhal, and laughed at jokes about musicians while sipping Champagne Rosé… what more could I ask for?

Photo credits: theurbanman.com, julotzeblog.com