Musical memories - where to start?

I have been thinking a lot since I started this blog about my musical memories, both as a performer and as a listener.

Over the coming days and weeks I will be trying to recall some of my most memorable musical experiences.

I start my list of performances in which I have been involved in a musical genre that has generally never been of much interest to me as a performer or listener - Renaissance polyphony.   But there is one exception.

In my first year at University - on 23 February 1975 to be precise - I took part in a performance of Tallis's 40 part motet Spem in Alium conducted by Professor Denis Arnold, renowned Monteverdi Scholar in his last term as Professor of Music at Nottingham University.

We performed in the distinctly secular surroundings of Cripps dining hall, where the scent was not so much of incense but more of boiled cabbage - but the room was very resonant and provided a surprisingly fitting acoustic for this extraordinary composition.

Being in the middle of the texture was something which I will never forget (I think that I was singing bass in choir seven): the effect of that intricate counterpoint was quite overwhelming.  Yet the most memorable moments were those where Tallis brings the music to a temporary stop and then brings in the voices together in block harmony.  It is an extraordinary effect and of course bring with it high tension - because if even one of those 40 parts in is the wrong place and keeps going during the silence..........

But there were no such problems in our performance and we brought it off splendidly - a great farewell present to a professor who did so much to create the character of the music department.

Tradition is not always Schlamperei

Like many people my Christmas begins at 3-00 on Christmas Eve with the solo treble singing the first verse of Once in Royal David's City from King's College.

As ever the order of service ranged across a wide range of musical styles.  I can't say that this year's new carol, by Rautavaara made much impression (it seemed rather shapeless) but I enjoyed the Judith Weir and, especially, the Pierre Villette, a composer previously only known to me by name only.

But as ever it is the traditional old favourites which made the greatest impression.  (I realise of course that old is a comparative term and that much of Christmas tradition is Victorian in origin).  There is something reassuringly about the straightforward four in a bar sturdiness of those familiar melodies which never fails to resonate.

But to me the icing on the cake - the Christmas moment is Willcocks' descant to the last verse of Hark the Herald - those soaring treble voices in that warm acoustic never fails to thrill.  And I can point to a single moment which sums up to me why this carol service means so much to me and to many others - the scrunching dissonance on the final "Hark the herald"  .  Once I have heard that - and it never cease to thrill -  I am ready for whatever Christmas might throw at me!

Happy Birthday Puccini

Today's is Puccini's birthday.

In my student days one of the most influential books on opera was Kerman's Opera as Drama, which is now chiefly famous for its description of Tosca as a "shabby little shocker"!      The passage of time has not enhanced Kerman's reputation in this matter whereas Puccini is now far more respectable in musicological circles that I would ever have imagined 30 years ago.

The charge against Puccini was that he was somehow a manipulator of emotions and that all his effects were manufactured rather than an integral part of the music.   Is that really the case.  At the end of the first act of La Boheme are we really being exploited by a cynical composer who knows just how to tear at the heartstrings.  I don't think do.  That love music is as fresh and sincere as the day it was first written.  I am a cynical old rationalist who likes to think of music in abstract terms, but that duet gets me every time.

The other thing about Puccini is his completely theatrical mastery.  I've often thought that if a young composer wanted to take an opera as a template he or she should get the score of Tosca out of the library and study the way in which Puccini crafts the drama.    The pacing works beautifully: the action develops at a good pace when it needs to and then opens out where it needs to be more reflective. The big set pieces are well placed  and the moments of high drama are all judged to perfection.  Judged purely in musico dramatic terms Tosca must be one of the most masterly operas ever written.

Happy birthday!

Endless pleasure

I was supposed to be getting ready for Christmas today but as almost always happens when I reach for the IPOD the work stops and listening takes over.  Today's choice, as it so often is, was some extracts from Semele.  

I've said before that I came late to baroque music but I've made up for in since and if I was forced at gunpoint to chose only one composer whose music I could listen to for the rest of my life it would be a toss up between Handel and Mozart, with Rameau and Stravinsky coming not far behind.

I'd been aware of the famous bits and pieces of Handel from an early age but I'd never really taken any time to explore his music.  Handel almost passed me by at university.  I remember one lecture on Handel's opera and that was about it - though interesting one of the illustrations which was used - Cleopatra's final aria from Giulo Cesare Da Tempeste - lodged in my mind and was immediately familiar when I first heard music from the opera again after something like 20 years.

I performed very little Handel at University.  In fact I have a very strong memory of one of my lecturers saying that one of his ambitions was to conduct a performance of Saul.  I am ashamed to admit that at the time I found this almost incomprehensible as an ambition when there was so much good music out there.  But the story had a happy ending because years later he did indeed put on a performance and I was invited to play.  By then I knew exactly why he he wanted to conduct it and it was a great pleasure to be able to take part,

 The starting point for my Handelian discovery was a performance of Tamerlano in Leeds.  While I was doing my training with the Inland Revenue I had to stay overnight in Leeds fairly regularly so took to going to see as much of Opera North as I could.  Tamerlano was hugely enjoyable and started to  open my eyes to the sheer range of Handel's invention.  Since then some of my most memorable musical experiences have been with Handel's operas.   Agrippina and Partenope at ENO were two of the very best nights I have spend in the theatre recently (now you see where the title of this blog comes from).  I didn't know anything from Partenope at the time so to hear Io ti levo l'impero dell'armi for the first time was quite overwhelming.  I vividly that feeling that time had almost stood still.

Today however it was Semele.  That one work alone encompasses almost all of Handel's range, from the gravity of the overture, the energy of the final chorus, the energy of the interludes and the mystery of the music for Somnus.   But most of all there is the irresistible Semele herself.  Of all her arias I think I would have to pick Endless Pleasure , which to me is pure joy.  But there is another reason for picking this aria: the chorus which follows it.  You start thinking that it will simply be a choral repetition of what has gone before but Handel develops the music in new directions.  The sheer pleasure in the sound - notice the horns added to the texture - makes it is easy to overlook the craftsmanship, but Handel knew precisely what he was doing with every note.

There was a musicological tradition at one time to denigrate Handel because he didn't write "proper" counterpoint - unlike of course Bach.  There was still a distinct hangover of this view when I was starting my studying.  Now I think that this has gone forever and that, in his own terms, Handel is simply one of the very greatest of all composers.

There is a wonderful performance of Endless Pleasure (apart from one misjudged interpolated high note towards the end) from Carolyn Sampson at the Proms a couple of years ago .  I can't embed it into this post but you can find it at the following link

Endless pleasure

It is an odd though that had I not trained as a tax inspector Handel might have passed me by for another 20 years!  

Keep it simple

In my previous post I mentioned that I was slightly inclined as a student to look down on the Magic Flute because it seemed so much simpler than the Da Ponte operas. It was only with the wisdom (?) of age that I have come to see that simplicity is no bar to musical greatness.

As I was thinking about this another , even better, example came to mind,

I still remember my first encounter with Schubert's Schwanengesang, especially the late Heine songs.  They made a tremendous impression on me.  But I also remember the sense of anticlimax after the end of Der Doppelgänger -  and surely the C major chord 5 bars from the end is the most chilling moment in all music - when I heard the opening "rum-ti-tum" chords of Taubenpost.   It seemed if not a move from the sublime to the ridiculous at one from profundity to triviality.

Now I see things very differently.  Taubenpost is a truly wonderful song - different in character and mood of course but still at an exalted level of inspiration.  I appreciate now as I didn't then that it takes genius to achieve a true level of simplicity.  

Here is Gerhard Husch showing how it should be done. I chose his performance not only because of its excellence but also as a memento of the fact that he came to talk to us in my first year at University (1974).  

Looking for magic.......

I attended a student performance of the Magic Flute a few months ago.  It was done on a very modest basis with piano accompaniment and minimal scenery: some of the performers got through more by enthusiasm than technique.   But the greatness of the work had no difficulty in shining through.  I suspect that in many ways the original performances in Vienna were just as rough and ready.


Where is that greatness?


Mozart has been one of the bedrocks of my musical existence and whatever else has changed in my musical tastes over my life the centrality of the Mozart operas has never been in doubt.  I remember going to couple of performances of Figaro early on but the crucial experience was playing 2nd bassoon in the local college production of Cosí fan tutte.   Learning the piece from the inside was a fantastic experience for a youngster finding his way into opera and it led to explore all of the Da Ponte operas.

I don't have such strong early memories of the Magic Flute but I suspect that my initial reaction was to find less in it than in Cosí.  That brings me to heart of my question about where the greatness is to be found.


In any of the Da Ponte opera the question is absurd.  Every time you turn a page you can only look in wonder at Mozart's ingenuity, inventiveness and inspiration.  Turning the pages of the Magic Flute seems to be to create a quite different impression - indeed sometime the reaction is "there's nothing there".


Take the act one duet Bei Männern, welche Liebe fühlen.  There is really almost nothing there at all. The harmony is utterly straightforward - indeed had I submitted this as a student composition exercise as pastiche Mozart I might have been criticised for a lack of harmonic variety.  And I suspect that the melody line would have been regarded as being repetitious, too reliant on triadic outlines and lacking in any rhythmic interest.  Indeed at a purely technical level there is absolutely nothing in this duet which would be beyond the capability of an averagely competent student to produce.

And yet of course it is music of the highest genius which in its very simplicity touches the heart in a way which few other pieces ever can.  There in, of course, lies the magic.  Somehow out of the very simplest ingredients Mozart has created something which is both sublime and completely human.

If I look at the sextet in Figaro I can marvel at the end result while at the same time at least have a glimpse of how Mozart did it.  With the Magic Flute however I marvel at the end result but still find it almost impossible to work out how he did it!

Autograph manuscript of the duet Bei Männern

Hugues Cuenod tenor b 1902

And while I am on the subject of performances which do everything wrong but yet musically are absolutely right I can't help but note the passing of the great Hugues Cuenod, who of course died a few days ago at the age of 108.


This is the famous recording of Chiome D'oro from the Monteverdi Madrigals directed by Nadia Boulanger from the 1930s.




I first heard this piece at school where two of the singers in the 6th form did this as a party piece at several concerts.

When I heard this recording at University I was very sniffy about it because - horror of horrors - it has a piano accompaniment.      Completely beyond the pale to a right thinking young musicologist.  

Yet of course, like the Deller, taken on its own terms it is masterly.  Indeed this is one of the best examples of pure joy in music that I know - listening to it always brings me out in a smile.   I find many more modern performances of this try too hard - Boulanger knew exactly how to make the music seems as fresh and natural as it had been composed the previous day. 

Alfred Deller

At school and university I was a great Wagner enthusiast and the baroque era meant almost nothing to me.  These days the position has almost completely reversed.  I can't remember the last time I listened to a complete Wagner opera and I rare listen to any extracts.  But Handel and Rameau are now very high on the list of composers to whom I return time and time again.

One of the reasons for this is undoubtedly the insights that the historically aware performance movement has brought to the performance of baroque opera.  In my students days there were some early stirrings of this but it had not really spread to opera.

One of the pioneers of "early music" was of course Alfred Deller and I find him a fascinating character.  One of the tracks on my Ipod which I play very regularly is his recording of

Per le porte del tormento from Handels Sosarme with Margaret Richie

Now in his day Deller was seen as a pioneer and yet this now seems completely outdated.   The tempo is impossibly slow - almost half the speed of some of the other recordings also on You Tube - and the orchestral sound is heavy and thick with almost no lightness and shade whatsoever.  Then there is Deller's voice.  It is completely mannered and precious and I can't imagine for one moment that this is the sort of sound that Handel would have been expecting.   I suspect that he would have expected a much more vigorous heroic voice which could have projected through to the back row of the theatre.

So overall I think that this is object lesson in how not to perform Handel.

And yet.........  I love it.  There is something quite magical in the way that Deller phrases, particular in the way he leans on the appogiaturas in a completely unforced way.  The control of the line is something that I don't think any other singer ever quite manage in the same way.

This is music making of the highest order (Margaret Ritchie by contrast is very ordinary) - it may have very little to do with Handel but it is something to treasure.

A new start

Some years ago I tried a blog but never got far with it.  So I am going to try again.

In this blog I am going to share some of musical experiences and reactions to music I hear.

Over time readers may get to know where my tastes lie