Intermezzo

Brewer droops

LPO / Vladimir Jurowski / Christine Brewer - Royal Festival Hall, 4 May 2011

Vladimir Jurowski has of late turned away from the fascinating but crowd-repelling obscurities which peppered previous seasons' programmes. His reward last night was a near-capacity crowd for an evening of familiar comforts, crowned with Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony. Jurowski's customary asceticism cut straight through the syrup and sentiment - this was Tchaikovsky at his most fleet and muscular, crafted with an airy transparency and acute attention to detail.

Mahlerization

London Philharmonic Orchestra / Vladimir Jurowski / Alexander Markovich / Melanie Diener / Thomas Hampson - Royal Festival Hall,  26 January 2010

At this stage in the anniversary celebrations, I'm all for a few bars rest from Mahler wherever possible. But it seems there is no escape, even when he's not on the menu. As Vladimir Jurowski explained during a brief furniture-reshuffling break, this Mahler-free programme should be considered as contextualisation for the LPO's next concert (centrepiece: Das klagende Lied). Nice sales pitch Vlad, maybe it won over some of the fidgety teenagers padding out the stalls.  

one night, two Mahlers

London Philharmonic Orchestra / Yannick Nézet-Séguin / Nicholas Angelich - Royal Festival Hall; 
'Night Shift' - Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment  / Vladimir Jurowski - Queen Elizabeth Hall, 19 January 2011

It's not often you get the chance to fit in two concerts on one night. Thanks to the LPO's 20 minute overrun I almost didn't. Luckily the OAE are equally tardy types, so I was able to hotfoot it from Mahler 5 in the Royal Festival Hall to Todtenfeier next door with seconds to spare.

you sang something?

Soile Isokoski / Allison Bell / Members of the London Philharmonic Orchestra / Vladimir Jurowski - Wigmore Hall, 10 June 2010

What a pity that the typically intelligent and stimulating programme Vladimir Jurowski had devised for his LPO chamber ensemble this evening wasn't matched by equally thoughtful planning for its execution.

The most effective item was the least ambitious, and perhaps not coincidentally the only one Jurowski didn't conduct. The Sextet from Strauss's Capriccio was played with great warmth and vitality by six of the LPO's top string players. 

A few more musicians had to squeeze on to the tiny Wigmore platform for Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire, and it was here that the problems began. Soloist Allison Bell, instead of standing up front, joined them in a line curving behind the conductor.

In other venues, or perhaps with a more forceful vocalist, this would have been a perfectly uncontroversial arrangement. But one of the reasons the Wigmore is such an ideal recital venue is that the acoustics favour the typical position of the singer at the front of the platform, creating a perfect balance automatically.  Stick them anywhere else and the Wigmore's democratic acoustic blends the voice seamlessly with whatever else is around. It would be an exaggeration to claim that Bell was inaudible, but she was certainly hard to hear, at times dipping beneath the level of the scant instrumentation. The problem was compounded by Bell's (quite correct) election for a true, speaking tone sprechstimme, meaning her voice rarely projected as far as pure singing would.

Soile Isokoski's rendition of Strauss's Four Last Songs fared even worse. For some reason, Isokoski was jammed up against the back wall. There were only thirteen musicians in front of her in James Ledger's new pared-down arrangement, but they were enough to drown her out almost totally. Christine Brewer in the vast barn of the Royal Albert Hall with a hundred instruments behind her came over more strongly.

Not only that but the wind instruments, a particularly strident piccolo especially, all but submerged the strings. Whether the Wigmore acoustic or the new arrangement was responsible, the effect was the same - the honeyed glow of Strauss's lush, string-heavy sound was all but eradicated.

Schoenberg's Kammersymphonie suffered from similar if not even more exaggerated balance problems, and, for the audience at front left, the additional merely visual obstacle of a grand piano (unused) blocking their view of the stage.

Maybe those at the back of the hall had better luck with the sound - it's sometimes the case - but in a venue noted for the quality of its acoustic really everyone should enjoy at least acceptable sound balance.

How ironic that the acoustic hotspot at centre front was occupied by the only musician who remained silent all night - the conductor.

This isn't the first time the cut-down London Philharmonic have failed to master the hall's acoustics, so why haven't lessons been learned?

London Philharmonic Orchestra play it safe - 2010/11 season details

The LPO's 2010-11 season details are now online (though not open for public booking until 15 February).

There's a noticeable absence of the sort of bold, overscaled (if not always successful) programming Jurowski has turned out in the past. But then half empty halls and a missing £2.3m yet to be recovered from their ex-finance director perhaps don't encourage a spirit of adventure.

The inevitable and protracted Mahler anniversary tribute will extend over fifteen concerts, and the rest of the schedule is largely packed with guaranteed audience-pleasers from the likes of Beethoven and Tchaikovsky. Only five evenings feature new works, all on the short side.

Guests include Anna Caterina Antonacci in Berlioz's La Mort de Cléopâtre on 16 February 2011, Christine Brewer in Strauss''s Four Last Songs on 4 May 2011 and Christian Gerhaher with songs from Des knaben Wunderhorn on 28 May 2011.

Leif Ove Andsnes, Evgeny Kissin, Hélène Grimaud and the underrated Andreas Haefliger are amongst the visiting pianists.

A whizzy new website feature allows you to flip through the new season brochure.

shhhhhhhhh

Vladimir Jurowski tells Radio 4's Today programme why it's OK to drink beer and eat crisps in the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment's special late night concerts. And why the traditional silent format will never die.

Listen here. (Incidentally, love the BBC's feedback request: "Do you think classical music performances are too formal?  Let us know using the form below")

You can also listen live to the OAE's Roundhouse gig (Beethoven 7) on 29 January at 9pm here.

a slight smell of burning

LPO / Jurowski / Pape - Royal Festival Hall, 31 May 2009

The balcony was closed due to lack of interest. The stalls were lightly sprinkled with the dedicated, the curious, and a few first timers clutching heavily discounted tickets (everyone from lastminute.com to the German Embassy was flogging them). The 2,900 seat Royal Festival Hall is hard enough to fill at the best of times, and the promise of 'new music' doesn't make it any easier.

Tonight's UK premiere was Torsten Rasch's Mein Herz brennt ("my heart burns"), a vast slab of heavy metal-tinged neo-romanticism in the form of a song cycle. The stage was built out to accommodate an orchestra so oversized they frequently drowned out the principal soloist, Rene Pape, despite his amplification. Couldn't someone have twiddled a knob somewhere? He sounds fabulous on the recording and it was a shame the live experience couldn't match up.

Katharina Thalbach, who wisely clutched her microphone to her chin, came across more clearly. Her whisky'n'cigs spoken vocals, somewhere between Lotte Lenya and the possession scene from The Exorcist, echoed the dark and brooding tone of the self-consciously retro music, which looks back to Zemlinsky and Schreker as much as Berg and Mahler.

The modern twist comes in the text, sourced from the lyrics of the German industrial metal band Rammstein. The tunes themselves are mostly discarded, but the melodic line retains more than a hint of rock rhythm. And despite the strong individual characterisation of each song, the relentlessly dense texture and earsplitting volume they all share is as cumulatively bludgeoning as a night in with Rammstein themselves.

The long evening began with the fifth symphony of Mendelssohn, the Susan Boyle of this year's anniversary composers, over-exposed and seemingly inescapable.

 Mahler's Todtenfeier, a sketch for the first movement of his second symphony was an interesting choice. Not just because of Rasch's Mahler influence either - the LPO will open next season with a performance of the full symphony. This performance didn't dig too deep and sounded a tad under-rehearsed and, but the clarity and driving pace promised much.

 

  

 

What's on in London in May

There's always plenty on in London musically speaking, but May looks particularly busy.

For starters, at the Royal Opera House, Diana Damrau and Giuseppe Filianoti take a roll in the hay for the first revival of Laurent Pelly's L'elisir d'amore. Il trovatore and Lohengrin are still around too.

At the ENO, David Alden's hotly-anticipated new Peter Grimes opens. Stuart Skelton, Amanda Roocroft, Gerald Finley and Felicity Palmer sing, Edward Gardner conducts. The second new production of the month is film director Abbas Kiarostami's first venture into opera, Così fan tutte.

Purcell's King Arthur is performed in concert at the Barbican on 6 May by Le Concert Spirituel. There are limited *free* tickets for under-26's for this one (check out the freeB link on the Barbican site).

17 May is Handel-fest day. Christopher Hogwood's Academy of Ancient Music bring Arianna in Creta to the Barbican. Miah Persson, Lisa Milne and Sonia Prina appear as originally scheduled, but Kristina Hammarström replaces the previously-announced Angelika Kirchschlager.

The performance starts at 6.30pm, so there should be (just) enough time to get there from Zurich Opera's Agrippina, which begins at 2pm in the Royal Festival Hall. The impressive cast joining Marc Minkowski and Zurich Opera's specialist period ensemble, Orchestra La Scintilla, includes Vesselina Kasarova, Eva Liebau, Marijana Mijanovic and Anna Bonitatibus.

The other operatic event worth mentioning is not in London at all, but in Manchester.  Over two nights, 9 and 10 May, Mark Elder and the Hallé Orchestra perform Götterdämmerung in concert at the Bridgewater Hall, with Katarina Dalayman as Brünnhilde. If this was in London, tickets would go in a flash, but there are still plenty of seats available.  Manchester is clearly a harder sell. It rather underlines the folly of the Royal Opera House's plans to create a Mancunian outpost. Northern opera lovers may be dedicated - there just aren't a lot of them.

On 31 May, Rene Pape joins Vladimir Jurowski and the LPO at the Royal Festival Hall for the UK premiere of Torsten Rasch's 2003 song cycle Mein Herz brennt. This is (loosely) based on the music of headbanging German industrial metallers Rammstein - a fact the Southbank promo guff intriguingly fails to mention. Not as scary as it sounds though, as the source material is engulfed by Jurowski's favoured big-boned retro-nouveau Eastern bloc neo-romanticism (or Vladcore for short).

On a smaller scale, there are lots of recitals this month, including the big one, Anna Netrebko and Dmitri Hvorostovsky at the Royal Festival Hall on 19 May.

At Wigmore Hall Kate Royal sings Schumann and Brahms on 7 May, and there's a solo recital from the great Jordi Savall the day after. On 19 May (the same date as Netrebko/Hvorostovsky unfortunately) Mojca Erdmann, Christian Gerhaher and Gerold Huber tackle Wolf's Italienisches Liederbuch. The Wigmore's busy Haydn weekend begins on 29 May with an András Schiff lecture recital at 2pm.

And there are a few more Wigmore day time events worth mentioning. On 12 May at 2pm there's a *free* recital of Kurtag and Schubert by Jonathan Biss, which will be recorded for the Wigmore's own label. On 18 May at 1pm Anne Schwanewilms sings Debussy, Strauss and Wolf, and on 25 May at 1pm Ingrid Fliter plays Chopin and Schumann.

Philip Glass makes a rare appearance at the Barbican on 26 May for an evening of chamber music.

The fabulous Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain plink and twang at the Cadogan Hall on 5 May.

One of the most intriguing events of the month is a Barbican concert on 30 May. Various artists including the Britten Sinfonia perform the Music of Moondog , and there are companion pre, post and interval events, including an 11.30pm concert at St Giles Cripplegate, Moondog Around Midnight .

La Vita Nuova - not so new after all

Vladimir Martynov: La Vita Nuova - LPO / Jurowski - Royal Festival Hall, 18 February 2009

Oh Vlad, Vlad, where do I begin? You and your efforts for make better cultural understanding of British peoples. We know you care. If you'd never had a musical training, you'd have ended up as one of those nerdy boys forever foisting unwanted mixtapes on reluctant girls. Come to think of it, tonight's opera was sort of like a mixtape, wasn't it? Or perhaps mish-mash. Vladimir Martynov chucked in every style from Gregorian chant to tone-row. All filtered through a mesh of workaday minimalism to remove unwanted lumps of originality. 

But how hard you worked to make it sound fresh and exciting! How rigorously you drilled your troops! I can't remember the last time I heard the LPO play with such brilliance and precision, though it was probably the last time I heard them conducted by you. The EuropaChorAkademie too, not only singing immaculately, but mastering all that shuffling around, trooping in and out to some baffling choreographic purpose.  

And how kind of the LSO to lend you Carmine Lauri to lead the band - what an undervalued musician he is, and how inspiring.

All the soloists were simply brilliant - Mark Padmore was your best catch (though whenowhen will he grow out that hideous Danny Dyer's Deadliest Men haircut?). He sang the lumpy recits and bellowed the leaden chants with grace and conviction, though he didn't reach full steam until the second half's faux-Liebestod with lovely Tatiana Monogarova. This was my favourite bit, even if "sweet death come to me" repeated over and over with syrupy violins behind doesn't start to capture the redemptive power of the ultimate sacrifice, the triumph of love over life itself. But we can't all be Richard Wagner, eh?

I quite liked the mini-requiem that came after too. Très Fauré. What a pity a chunk of the already-sparse audience left at half-time and missed it. But I expect you noticed that yourself anyway, Vlad. After all, you started each half facing the audience. Was there a reason for that? But at least it added some visual interest. As did placing Mark Padmore and the three sweet little boy trebles around the auditorium now and again. Is that what you'd call semi-staging? I was happy just contemplating the adorable way your hair kinks where you've taken out your ponytail elastic, but others are less easily pleased, so thanks for your consideration. By the way, you have such lovely shiny hair - what conditioner do you use? (Email me privately if you're shy).

I've heard one new operatic masterpiece this week, though you won't be surprised to hear, Vlad, it wasn't this one. I never even worked out what it was all about.

But I don't want you to stop trying. London desperately - desperately - needs you and your vision. We cannot live on Mahler alone. We need you to bring us stuff of all sorts, music we'd never get a chance to hear otherwise. So thank you. Sorta.

Hay look, it's Saint Vlad:

~~~~~~more photos over teh page~~~~~~~~

London Philharmonic Orchestra £10 ticket offer

Just £10 yes £10 will buy you the best available ticket (worth up to £38) for the premiere of Vladimir Martynov’s opera Vita Nuova at the Royal Festival Hall on 18 February in a concert performance from Vladimir Jurowski and the London Philharmonic Orchestra.

The discount is only available for phone bookings and the top secret password is 'Almeida offer'.

Contact either: London Philharmonic Orchestra Ticket Office: 020 78404242 Mon-Fri, 10am-5pm, no booking fee, or Southbank Centre Ticket Office: 0870 6632530 daily, 9am-8.30pm, booking fee applies.

I can't recommend it because I haven't heard it - though I have to admit what little of Martynov's music I've been exposed to so far has struck me as unpromising retro kitsch. But the samples on the LPO site (check the link above) suggest something of a more liturgical bent - John Tavener meets Mills & Boon maybe. Who knows - at £10 a ticket it's gotta be worth the risk anyway, rite?

Tristan, Isolde and Vladimir

London Philharmonic Orchestra / Jurowski - Royal Festival Hall, 13 December 2008

As Glyndebourne's house band, the LPO have played a fair few Tristan und Isoldes, no doubt one factor tonight in their polished concert performance of the second act.

The other factor was Vladimir Jurowski, who buffs their sound to a sheen few others can achieve. Not just well-rehearsed, it was well-planned too. The offstage horns at the start were perfectly integrated, and Brangäne's distant warning to the secret lovers, delivered from the choir stalls, sounded truly faraway. But the flipside of forethought is caution. I could admire Jurowski's lucid phrasing and transparent textures. As in the Adagio from Mahler's Tenth which opened the evening, there were moments I heard things that had never struck me before.

But it was too delicately nuanced for any telling dramatic effect, not to mention curiously amorphous overall, the narrative arch sacrificed in favour of the pointed detail. Contrasts were underplayed, and, in the sterile acoustics of the Royal Festival Hall, much left me cold. As an exploration of erotic abandon, it had the nagging undercurrent of a gynecological exam. The foundations are there, but though I always will Jurowski to impress, it's not yet a great interpretation.

The most moving moments of the night came from Laszlo Polgar as King Marke. Despite (or perhaps because of) a bad cold that gave him a few cracking issues, his Tatest Du's wirklich? had real pathos, his bottomless bass hollow with the dignified resignation of a man already dead inside.

Sarah Connolly's Brangäne - her first Wagner role ever, I think - was a great success, too. Concern and worldly wisdom blended in her rich and surprisingly powerful voice. But the Ikea duvet cover dress was not a flattering choice. Stephen Gadd, doubling up as Melot and Kurwenal, also gave a strong if brief performance. 

As for Tristan and Isolde themselves, there are probably no singers around today who can fill the roles entirely satisfactorily.

Robert Dean Smith has on his side a lyrical voice and buckets of stamina. He also knows the role backwards. He never strained or shouted. But there was minimal characterisation -  he sang the part rather than playing it. I'd also prefer to hear a heftier voice in this role.

Anja Kampe has all the makings of a good Isolde. She tends to excessive vibrato, but her voice has strength and warmth and projects well. She also looks the part, and I know from previous exposure what a great actress she is. But at the moment she doesn't seem to know quite who Isolde is. Either that or she was too busy concentrating on getting the basics right (both she and Sarah Connolly used scores) to characterise her interpretation to her fullest ability. She tackles the role in full for the first time at Glyndebourne next summer, so there's plenty of time to work it out.

The Royal Festival Hall certainly knows how to fill a Saturday night; after the concert it was downstairs for more music, this time the London Sinfonietta's 40th birthday celebrations (recorded live for Radio 3 and available for the next few days here). It's a tiring life.

Vlad hair day

Iolanta - LPO / Jurowski - Royal Festival Hall, 25 October 2008

How many conductors can tether their hair in a Queen Victoria bun and still look cool? How many would even try? How many have enough hair, come to that? In Vladimir Jurowski's case, it simply adds to his swami-like aura of inscrutability. Sigh. A few dirty looks were directed at the women who yelled "I love you!" as he left the stage, but I understand.

Since Opera Holland Park tackled it this summer, Iolanta has been growing on me. It has its draggy bits and its derivative bits, and any story about a blind princess who gains sight through the power of love and self-awareness is undeniably on the silly side. But there are moments of real invention, starting with the rugged chromaticism of the overture, and it builds into a compelling whole. (There's a 1955 Russian recording available on last.fm - not exactly brilliant, but at least it's free).

Part of Jurowski's Revealing Tchaikovsky series, this concert performance of Iolanta was staffed mostly by well-drilled Russian imports. Not only did all but one do their stuff without a score, but they even managed a little stage business in the postage-stamp space between the violins and the podium.

Jurowski's balletically airy reading took time to warm up. But it eventually touched the heart with King Rene's arioso. Sergei Aleksashkin's noble, timeworn bass was so committed it deserved nothing less than complete attention.

The tenor Yevgeny Shapovalov as Iolanta's suitor Count Vaudemont had a mixed night, hitting his first top Bflat in falsetto, but he went for bust after that, with a heroic ring and bags of passion.

Tatiana Monogarova was appealing but a little chilly in the title role - I was more impressed by the sprightly and silvery Ekaterina Lekhina in the much smaller part of Brigitta.

Rodion Pogossov's delivery of Robert's aria almost inevitably suffered in comparison to Hvorostovsky's magnificent encore, still fresh in the mind from last week, but like Alexandra Durseneva (Martha), Maxim Mikhailov (Bertrand) and Vyacheslav Pochapsky (Ibn-Hakia), his performance was committed and hard to criticise.

The only (minor) disappointment was the small Moscow Conservatory Chamber Choir, whose sound simply didn't carry to where I was sitting - whether this is down to them or to the horrendous acoustics of the Royal Festival Hall is hard to tell.

Jurowski's lean, mean Tchaikovsky clearly has some appeal. Despite the relative unfamiliarity of the work and the soloists, there was a pretty good turnout for this. I wonder if the 2 for 1 ticket offer helped?

 

 

 

Here Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazon tackle Iolanta and Robert's duet:

Swanning around for Halloween

Yay for seasonally inappropriate programming!

Despite being gifted a name like Vlad, Maestro Jurowski  and his OAE accomplices will be coaxing the bats from the rafters of the Royal Festival Hall this Halloween with the late-nite sounds of, er ......Swan Lake. Coupled with the equally scary Romeo & Juliet.

Do they not have Halloween in Russia, or wut? Mr Pumpkinhead is not amused, though Mr Tchaikovsky is grateful for the exposure.

For anyone who finds Halloween always a trick and never a treat, the concert is a bargain alternative, with tickets at just £8 for an hour of live music (starting 10pm) plus DJ sets. More and booking details here. 

 

No gingerbread for Hansel and Gretel at the Met

Hansel and Gretel - Metropolitan Opera, New York, 8 January 2007

Outside the Met before the show

There've been complaints from critics that this production is too scary, not sugary enough to bring the kids to. (Not quite as scary as the $3,550 (=£1,800) the Met wants you to pay for family tickets and a bed for the night though.) The sprinkling of children in my area of the audience seemed riveted, not at all perturbed. In truth I could see little that would bother any but those who are too young for a full night out at the opera anyway. The central themes of starvation and cannibalism (seasoned with child abuse and wife beating) are handled with engaging restraint. I did overhear some grannies on the way out who felt short-changed by the lack of a gingerbread house and a forest. It's probably this generation, who've perhaps seen a more literal take before, who are most likely to feel disappointed. But I've avoided it in the past for precisely the opposite reason, so this was my very first Hansel and Gretel.

It's immediately recognisable as a Richard Jones production from the shoebox set and sixties decor unveiled for the first act. The set, a dilapidated kitchen, is cleverly constructed so that it's higher and wider at the front than the back. This lends a surreal, unsettling depth to the visual, and makes the performers at the rear of the stage (the parents) seem suitably larger than the ones at the front (the children, played of course by adults). Manic movement compensated for the rather opaque written characterisations. Alice Coote presented Hansel as a typically boisterous small boy, charging around bull-headed, and Christine Schäfer's Gretel was a sweet and bashful little girl. The action (and there's lots of it) is precision-choreographed. Having recently seen rather too many Wagnerians shuffling cluelessly around the stage like sheepish auditionees, it was a delight to see some proper stage blocking for a change.

Although this production is in English, Coote and Schäfer's slurry diction made me grateful for the Met's seat-back subtitles (seatitles?). The problem was shared, to a lesser extent, by the rest of the cast. But then this is the case with so many English-language productions I've seen (like, just about everything at the ENO) that I have to wonder if it's a problem with the language itself as much as the singers. Especially for sopranos, it's tough to get the syllables across cleanly.

The second act is set in another expanding box, this one taller and more threatening, its forest setting evoked by dark leafy wallpaper and a tree branch chandelier.

Nodding trees around the sides are revealed as actors in uncomfortable headgear, and there are more actors, grotesque chefs who advance to set the giant banqueting table in the children's dream sequence, and a bizarre fish-headed waiter who rises out of the floor. Sasha Cooke (a slightly scary old-guy Sandman) and Lisette Oropesa (the Dew Fairy) get some of the prettiest music in the opera, and delivered really charming cameos here.

The third act began not with the expected gingerbread house, but with a giant cake-bearing mouth that led in to the witch's kitchen, a huge food factory complete with enormous oven. Due to illness, the scheduled Witch, Philip Langridge, was replaced by Adam Klein. Prosthetically tubbified, he delivered such an appropriately beguiling performance that I didn't miss Langridge at all.

The visuals are so breathtaking and consistently engaging that the music could almost take a back seat. But Vladimir Jurowski conducted the Met orchestra (sounding considerably more vigorous than they had in the previous night's Die Walküre) with a drive and attention to detail that underlined that this is not the glorified panto some might like it to be.

Courtesy of Welsh National Opera, who originally commissioned it, this production (different cast) can be seen in Cardiff and Birmingham this summer.

 

Mr and Mrs Jurowski and the kids:

Das Wunder der Heliane fails over the topness test

Das Wunder der Heliane, LPO/Jurowski - Royal Festival Hall, 21 November 2007

It's been a while since I walked out of a concert at the interval, but I was sorely tempted on this occasion. Without much to compare a performance of this rarely-aired opera to, I was expecting to find the same butterscotch lushness and overblown eroticism as the Decca recording achieves, but Vladimir Jurowski chickened out and watered the first act down into something as grey and saggy as John Prescott's underpants. Heliane (and Korngold generally) has often been charged with over-the-topness, but this mousy excuse for a first act barely got off the ground.

And that wasn't even the worst bit. The soloists, placed on the choir platform behind the souped-up orchestra, were all but inaudible. Only the mighty Willard White (as the Porter) really did credit to his role, and I'd wager he found blasting through Korngold's cruelly massive orchestrations a tougher task to tackle than even Wotan at the Grosses Festspielhaus.

It could have done with more accomplished Wagnerians all round. Patricia Racette at least had the lyrical grace for Heliane, if not the volume. But she lacked the radiance Renee Fleming brought to her recent Proms performance of the second act aria Ich ging zu ihm, a performance still fresh in my memory.

Tenor Michael Hendrick simply wasn't up to the part of the Stranger, with neither the belting volume nor the challenging high notes it requires. And Andreas Schmidt (the Ruler) had a very poor night of it, intonation and control awry, and a strange habit of half covering his mouth with his hand.

I returned warily to my seat after the first interval and was immediately rewarded as Jurowski poked some much-needed life in the LPO for the second act prelude. By the time we got to the third act interlude, the most musically satisfying episode of the whole night, they were positively smoking, and without sacrificing any polish for power. Reckless abandon and technical difficulty are a tough combination to finesse, and maybe that's why we had to wait so long for it, but that's what this work needs from start to finish.

The third act also unleashed the EuropaChorAkademie, who'd been little but a patient audience for the first two hours. They finally provided some vocal competition for the orchestra, and captured better than anyone else had the unashamed heart on sleeve romanticism of the work as their voices surged upwards. The soloists, curiously, also improved vastly at this point -- the more considerate orchestration may have helped. Hearing Andrew Kennedy (who is not naturally small of voice) virtually shouting his few lines to fire them over the orchestra brought home what hard work it must have been for all of the singers. If nothing else, this evening pointed up some of the pitfalls a full staging might run into.

The performance was recorded, for what purpose I'm not sure, but unless they can wizard up an engineering miracle, I'll be happy to stick with the last act alone.

Vladimir Jurowski - the hotness and the notness

What a difference a shave makes.

Before Vladimir Jurowski was teh hot hot hottie of the London conducting scene with the tumbling curls and the Ermenegildo Zegna jacket:

he could count himself lucky that he had his musical talent to fall back on:

Check out Vladimir Jurowski's baton - London Philharmonic play live online

Medici Arts, the company which brought high quality live video streaming of the Verbier Festival online, has something new to share.

Last night's LPO concert, recorded live at the Royal Festival Hall, is available online here until 30 October. As with the Verbier streaming, both audio and video quality are excellent. No word as to whether this is a one-off or we can expect more in future.

And Verbier streaming availability has now been extended to 30 September.

Coming up this autumn - Opera in London

Plenty going on of course at the Royal Opera House this autumn, and here's what's happening elsewhere in London.

English National Opera kick off their season at the end of September with a new Carmen. They follow with a revival of Nicholas Hytner's charming Magic Flute, Kate Royal and Lucy Crowe in a new production of Monteverdi's Coronation of Poppea directed by Chen Shi-Zheng, a Zandra Rhodes-designed Aida from Houston Grand Opera and a David McVicar Turn of the Screw.

Sadler's Wells once again play host to a few one-offs and touring productions. Sarah Tynan features in a pair of one-act operas by Elisabeth Maconchy on 13 to 17 November. She's back on 26 November for the London premiere of a new James McMillan opera for WNO, The Sacrifice, inspired by ancient Welsh folktales. Glyndebourne on tour visit Sadler's Wells in December with Albert Herring, Macbeth (recently prommed too) and L'Elisir d'Amore.

English Touring Opera hit Hackney Empire on 12 October with Handel's Teseo followed by Country Matters, an English-language version of Haydn's L'Infidelta Delusa on 13 October. They're back on 25 October with Bridgetower, a new jazz opera by Julian Joseph. ETO may not have the star names or the big budgets, but they still manage to conjure up some high quality productions at very reasonable prices, so these will definitely be on my list.

Some musical muppetry for the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, where Purcell's Dido and Aeneas "is expanded and reinvigorated by Director Tim Carroll, who weaves Marlowe's play of the same events into the opera, while the action is illuminated by a cast of magical marionettes". Two performances, on 13 and 14 October (note ETO fixture clash).

And the OAE are back for a rare concert performance of Schumann's Das Paradies und die Peri in the Royal Festival Hall on 7 December. "Not an opera" according to Schumann, who titled it a 'poem' and described it as "not for the chapel, but rather for cheerful folk." Cheerful folk joining the OAE include Simon Rattle and a solid cast of Bernarda Fink, Sally Matthews, Kate Royal and Mark Padmore.

Again the OAE have a schedule overlap, this time with the Barbican's Billy Budd on 7 and 9 December, featuring Nathan Gunn as Billy and Ian Bostridge. In sharp contrast to the Royal Festival Hall's increasingly greedy ticket prices, this is a great bargain, with the top price just £30 and loads of balcony seats at £6 and £12.

The Barbican also hosts Les Arts Florissants on 24 October with Landi's Il Sant'Alessio, featuring Philippe Jaroussky in the title role.

Back at the Royal Festival Hall, the LPO have secured the services of the radiant Patrizia Ciofi for a concert performance of Bellini's rarely-heard La Straniera on 3 November .

And the LPO present another concert performance on 21 November, this time the UK premiere of Korngold's Das Wunder der Heliane. Tickets are already getting thin for this. For the Korngold-ignorant (raises hand) there's a free talk beforehand by Jessica Duchen.

Tartan Madness - Verdi's Macbeth at the Proms

Macbeth (Prom 15) - Royal Albert Hall, 24 July 2007

I hadn't seen the recent Glyndebourne production of Verdi's Macbeth, so I was grateful they managed to bring most of it bar the sets and the surtitles to the Royal Albert Hall for my first Proms visit of the season.

Normally by this stage in the proceedings I would have taken in quite a few Proms, but this year's programme is not hugely inspiring overall. I find only a handful of must-sees, of which this is one. Also, unlike nearly everyone I know, I'm reallly looking forward to Michael Ball's appearance, but that's another story.

For this performance, billed as semi-staged, Vladimir Jurowski's London Philharmonic Orchestra sat on stage in full view and a raised platform behind them held the tartan-clad singers and their few basic props.

I sat behind the stage in the corner choir section. The raised, steeply racked seating here gave an excellent side view of the singers and an unaccustomed full frontal of the conductor. It also brought home why so many percussionists sport earplugs, but apart from that the sound balance seemed fine, a very reasonable sound/view/comfort/budget compromise given the limited options of the RAH in Proms season.

Jurowski was fresh from conducting the dozen or so Glyndebourne performances, and it showed in his assurance as he flicked his commands. The LPO cruised through it with the ease of a BMW down the autobahn, but always with the sort of energy that suggested there was plenty more left in the tank. This was a subtle reading, sufficiently inflected for dramatic contrast, that never descended to the rum-ti-tum a lesser orchestra might have delivered.

The singing too was of a high standard, though some voices were more suited than others to the Royal Albert Hall's cavernous acoustic. Peter Auty as Macduff fared best with his clear, resonant tenor. Others sometimes sounded hollow, as if they were shouting down a well, but in this venue where projection matters as much as size, it's something that can happen to even the best.

Despite this, Andrzej Dobber made a convincing Macbeth. Sylvie Valayre's Lady Macbeth was a little mechanical, approaching her every scene with the same chilly gloss, but her coloratura couldn't be faulted. In general, there was a tight sense of ensemble amongst the soloists, an accomplished anonymity with (Auty apart) no individual fireworks. The chorus, particularly the male half, were razor-sharp and full of beans, a great support.

Despite the technical excellence, this performance was never totally engaging. A number of the production details - the kitsch costuming, the cartoonish props - may well have worked brilliantly in the fully-realised and more intimate context of the Glyndebourne staging. But here the singers often looked as lost as party guests who hadn't been told the dress code had changed from fancy dress to black tie, and moments of potential tragedy took on a tinge of silliness.

Some curtain call pics (taken from the choir section, hence the odd angle):

Fab (ish) Four celebrate OAE's 21st in historically informed style

Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment 21st Birthday Concert - Royal Festival Hall, 30 June 2007

Purcell Suite from Welcome to all the Pleasures & Now does the glorious day appear
Rameau Suite from Dardanus
Mozart Concerto in E flat for 2 pianos, K.365
Haydn Symphony No.63
Weber Der Freischütz - Act II Finale (The Wolf's Glen)
Handel Music for the Royal Fireworks

It's not often you get four top conductors in one night, but the 21st birthday concert of the OAE merited something special. The fab four in question were Mark Elder, Vladimir Jurowski, Sir Charles Mackerras and Sir Roger Norrington, and their magical mystery tour was broad reaching enough to show many facets of the orchestra's capabilities.

But even the fabbest of fours has a Ringo, and tonight it was Sir Roger Norrington, who took the first section. Although the orchestra and particularly the chorus bounced through the Purcell, directed by Richard Egarr from the harpsichord, well enough, it was marred by some below-par solo singing. Only counter tenor Robin Blaze really did it any credit. John Mark Ainsley and David Wilson-Johnson were barely audible, and Ainsley simply didn't hit all the notes right. The Rameau suite which followed was sluggish and uninspired, Rameau's sparkle and wit completely buried.

In between the Purcell and Rameau a video birthday message from Sir Simon Rattle was aired on a big screen above the stage. Unfortunately it was so brightly lit as to be nearly invisible (unlike the left hand side of the auditorium, which remained in total darkness all night despite audience complaints).  Further videos later on were similarly whited out. Surely the RFH has had long enough to sort out its technical problems by now?

After Norrington had taken his leave, Mozart's Here's One I Knocked Off In My Sleep was directed from the keyboards (tonight, fortepianos) by Richard Egarr and Robert Levin. This was another problematical item, and not only because of the less than inspired writing (with all the wonderful Mozart there is to choose from, why pick something this dull?). The fortepianos duly demonstrated why they were dinosaured out by the pianoforte, their close, muffled sound completely inadequate to fill an auditorium this size. Egarr and Levin tossed their hair and flung their arms, smirking and winking across the keyboards as if there was no audience apart from each other, to the expense of a very noticeable error from Levin. Their flippancy underlined their (understandable) lack of regard for the material - so again, why not choose something else to play? There's a place for self indulgence, but it's not in front of a paying audience. No wonder Sir Roger Norrington, sitting a few rows in front of me for this one, carried on talking to his companion over the opening bars, something I now plan to do next time I catch one of his concerts.

I really thought the whole evening was going to be a waste of time, and then Vladimir Jurowski bounded onto the stage like a frisky puppy and dug straight into the Haydn. The atmosphere and the orchestra were totally and immediately transformed. Though really this is far from Haydn's finest moment, Jurowski invested it with so much colour, vigour and drama that for a moment it seemed like the greatest thing ever written. I hereby pledge my soul to his LPO - he is simply the most exciting conductor in London right now.

Jurowski was a hard act to follow, but Mark Elder nearly topped him with a splendidly performed extract from Der Freischütz. Singers Clive Bayley and Philip Langridge gave an ingenious semi-staged performance, where the lights were dimmed and the orchestra became a forest for them to pick their way through. Weber's brilliant and imaginative orchestration came thrillingly to life, all its bizarre corners and lush drama stunningly displayed. A performance so inspiring it made me want to rush out and listen to the whole opera from start to finish.

It was left to Sir Charles Mackerras to end the evening with Handel's Music for the Royal Fireworks. Delivered in appropriately celebratory style, its bang-crash-wallop wound things up on a high note.