Classical Opera Company at the Wigmore Hall
22nd January 2008
Everyone knows that Johann Sebastian Bach had twenty children. Anyone with an interest in early music can probably name a number of them, those who were composers at any rate, and it is likely that Johann Christian Bach would be one of those named. But someone with an interest in either opera or the Bach family could be forgiven for not knowing that J.C. Bach composed at least twelve operas and contributed to a number of others, including Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice. His operatic output is surprisingly large for a composer who has not even one opera in the regular repertory. It is true that most of Donizetti’s seventy-plus works will never be seen by the average opera-goer, but it would be surprising if they never saw, at the very least, such works such as L’elisir d’amore and Lucia di Lammermoor. But a lot of opera-goers would struggle even to name one of J.C. Bach’s operas.
Only a few short extracts were performed during Classical Opera Company’s concert in celebration of this great composer, but it was more than enough to make me want to see the complete operas. J.C. Bach’s style is not unlike Mozart’s, and, indeed, their work was contemporary. Although Mozart was twenty years younger than Bach, his first opera was performed only about four years after Bach’s first. Both composed an operatic Lucio Silla within two years of one another, and using the same libretto, but Mozart’s was first.
The concert opened with J.C. Bach’s Symphony No. 6 in G major, beautifully performed by the Orchestra of Classical Opera Company. There is something about Mozart that is (to me) really thrilling and exciting, and J.C. Bach’s music has a similar musical language which is gorgeous and musically satisfying.
The Orchestra of the Classical Opera Company is made up of strings, oboes, bassoons and horns, with Steven Devine on the harpsichord. The conductor was Ian Page, also the founder and artistic director of Classical Opera Company. It is probably impossible to be completely certain about how music really sounded in J.C. Bach’s day, so when I say their performance was ‘authentic’ I only really mean that they made the sounds we have come to associate with early music. Even an instrument that genuinely came from that time could have been played in a slightly different way to create a different sort of sound. But it was the sort of sound I was hoping for, and the Symphony made a spirited opening to the concert.
Later in the first half, Steven Devine played the Harpsichord Concerto in D major - and, midway through the second half, Page let the Orchestra of the Classical Opera Company in a G minor Symphony. Again, the style had much in common with Mozart, but the works were all considerably shorter. With two symphonies, a concerto, four arias and a salve regina, the concert did not seem long.
The two singers to feature in this concert were Susan Gritton and Sophie Bevan. The latter is one of Classical Opera Company’s Associate Artists. Although the scheme surely cannot provide so varied and rigorous a training as that offered on the Jette Parker Young Artists’ Programme at the ROH, for example, it does seem to seem to produce excellent singers. Former Associate Artists Anna Leese and Andrew Staples have already performed with the Royal Opera, the former in roles including Musetta and Micaela, and the latter as Jacquino Fidelio.
Sophie Bevan looks set for similar successes. Ian Page says in the Programme notes that the concert was a great opportunity for Sophie to ‘make her Wigmore debut alongside an artist of Susan’s calibre and experience’. Without taking anything away from Gritton, who was excellent, it was also a great opportunity for her to sing alongside Bevan – although, to be pedantic, they never actually sung alongside one another. But, nevertheless, it was an opportunity for two great but very different singers to appear with an excellent orchestra.
Bevan was outstanding, right from the first note she sang: a soft, floated high note that increased in volume as she sang. She opened with a gorgeously-sung Salve Regina in F minor – there seemed to be so much expressed in her performance, it was difficult to believe she had only two lines to sing.
After only a short pause in which her next song was introduced, Bevan sang a song in a different style altogether: Retrea’s aria ‘Misera, che ascoltai...Piu madre non sono’ from J.C. Bach’s Orione, a very dramatic aria where Retrea sings of her anguish following the death of her son Orione. It was a very involved and quite riveting performance – as was her second aria, ‘Ah se a mourir mi chaima’ from Lucio Silla, another song of lost love, although, in this case, her character Cecilio is a man bidding farewell to his beloved. Again, this was extremely well-characterised, with a clear contrast in character between this and her earlier aria.
Gritton closed the first half of the concert with Farnaspe’s aria “Cara la dolce fiamma’ from Adriano in Siria. Gritton sang it lovingly and gently: an unusually calm way in which to lead into the interval. But perhaps this is something else that is typical of J. C. Bach’s time, and it didn’t seem wrong – just different. Perhaps it would have seemed more dramatic if the whole story had been more familiar. I prefer the operas with happy endings as a rule, as they generally have a lot more humour, but it’s no fun if they haven’t suffered a bit first.
Gritton also sang the final two songs in the second half. If there was a certain restraint in her first-half performance, this was not the case when she returned. ‘Sposo amata...Ah si vada’ from La clemenza di Scipione allowed Gritton to suffer a bit, and she did it with style. By the time she got to the line where she says she is on a path of torment, suffering and grief, we almost didn’t need to be told that: she’d made this so clear in her performance.
But the best was saved until last. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Gritton singing in French before, but her performance of “Que vois-je?... Cruel remord’ from Amadis di Gaule made me look forward all the more to her appearance as Micaela for the Royal Opera. Although French is the language, after English, in which I am most fluent, I still find it difficult to understand and appreciate it when it’s sung. Not when Gritton is the interpreter: this was gorgeously-sung, moving, and very dramatic performance, and a shocking and climactic end, even as a stand-alone aria.
The only part of the evening that was not fully successful was the readings of Michael Maloney to introduce each piece of music. Ian Page made the introductions at the last Classical Opera Company performance I saw, and he was very informative and witty, and clearly (although I wouldn’t expect less) knew his subject well. Maloney’s readings were based on correspondence, some of which was amusing, but too many words were lost in the acoustics of the Wigmore Hall, with only the loudest and most expressive of the words (which ocasionally seemed a bit too loud and expressive) reaching the back row clearly. Maybe this was also the reason why each reading seemed a little too long.
But Sophie Bevan seemed to enjoy them: she turned and watched Maloney, and smiled in what seemed to be the right places. This was in contrast to her fellow musicians, who showed little or no response. Bevan’s reactions were a surprise, but I thought it was really nice to see her so engaged with it: he is, after all, just as much a performer as she is. And if I were Maloney, I would certainly have felt encouraged.
Cunning Little Vixen
primi-divi at hotmail.co.uk