Adès' Journey from Hades to Paradise

 

It is no overstatement to say the Boston Symphony's performance tonight, led by Thomas Adès and consisting of Stravinsky's Perséphone, with music from his epic Dante Project - The Dante Suite, Paradiso, and Awakening, was among the most important and moving concerts I have experienced in a lifetime of concertgoing.  I realize how that must sound, but there it is. Performed together, we are given two of the great ballets of the last century, each proving just how strongly their scores can exist, independently, and away from the ballet stage.  Without choreography or sets, without costumes, lighting, or, indeed, dancers, these prove to be concert works of bold artistic vision, powerful and profoundly moving on their own musical merits.

Through a proliferation of commissions and representing a diversification of forms both wide - and wild - Adès has established himself as one of the most important composers of our time. His works have played and are playing among the major opera houses, including Covent Garden, La Scala, The Met, Vienna and more, as well as virtually every major concert venue across the globe. As its first Artistic Partner, the Boston Symphony has, these past seven years, been the fortunate recipient of his gifts as he has given premieres of major works, conducted the various ensembles of and within the BSO, performed recital and chamber work, made recordings for Deutsche Grammophon, and served as Director of Tanglewood's Contemporary Music Festival.  

Adès' love of Stravinsky is well known, and his selection of the too-rarely performed  Perséphone was a wise and telling choice. Arriving over two decades after Le Sacre du printemps, Perséphone is Stravinsky's second ballet focusing on Spring, though the differences between the two are immense if not glaring. While the earlier ballet has become more popular, in many ways the latter exposes a far more experienced and nuanced composer and the massive score reflects that employing, a huge orchestra, two choruses, tenor soloist and narrator. Within that score one hears "most" of Stravinsky's styles, here is the jaunty dancing rhythms of Dumbarton Oaks, here the sheer power of the choruses and tenor soloist from Oedipus Rex there, the delicacy of The Rake's Progress, and so on.

In Adès's hands all of this - as well as his love for this composer's music cme through brilliantly.  The nuances and textual transitions were seamless . . . . sudden . . . effective.  Eumopolus, the Priest, begins the first Tableaux with an invocation setting the tone for the story to follow and tenor Edgaras Montvidas was ideal and engaging in the role, his clear, bright tenor precise and lyrical in much of the role, but expanding in power in those moments demanded by the score. As the Narrator, soprano Danielle De Niese was a vision, stunning in her flowery, billowy dress that "felt" like Spring in this cold, gray New England weather. Unamplified, it took a minute for ears to adjust to the soft grained, girlish timbre her voice, but then her delicate intensity of the spoken was touching, effective, her face, arms and hands reflective of the moving story she presented us. 

The Tanglewood Festival Chorus, and the Boys of Saint Paul's Choir School, did yeoman's work, and, again, led through their paces by Mr. Adès, and the soloists every moment pulled together forming a seamless and entirely satisfying whole.  The first half of this epic night was a major success, the appreciative (if smallish) audience calling back the principals, and cheering the splendid work of the chorus.

The second half, featuring Adès conducting music from his Dante Project could not have been more highly anticipated. On the heels of nothing but raves for performances both onstage (The Royal Ballet Covent Garden), and in concert (the Los Angeles Philharmonic under Gustavo Dudemel) the composer looked positively on-top-of-the-world as he took to the podium.  As with Perséphone, Adès is a fun conductor to watch, while not wild he is, nonetheless, a conductor of big gestures, and it was an enormous pleasure to watch the interactions between him and the musicians, most of whom looked as excited as he did.  Even the crimson lining peaking through the vents as he moved felt special.  The eight movements of the Inferno Suite revealed a composer adept at virtually every style of so-called "modern" music - a bit of Hollywood here, some nods to Wagnery-Mussorgsky magic there, delicate, almost seemingly invisible music yielding suddenly to a bombast of brass and pounding drums . . .  it's an exhilarating, glorious and yes, fun, cachaphony of sound. Nowhere is that sense of fun more evident than in Section XII The Thieves - devoured by snakes.  Here Adès just cuts loose in what I can only describe as a fistfight between Shostakovich and Rossini.  Fast and furious, the conductor even at one point jumping into the air, it obviously did not matter that there was still one movement to go, for at the conclusion of this penultimate one, the hall burst into roars with cheering, and frenetic applause - many even jumping to their feet before XIII Satan - in the lake of ice was allowed to conclude the suite.  Honestly, I cannot recall a similar reaction in the middle of ANY work, ever. I almost sensed the composer "daring" us to stay quiet.    

Following a brief pause for the ladies of the chorus to assemble, we continued with Paradiso, and here was the magic of programming made manifest.  Dante's presence - his influence on this "project" is fulfilled in Adès' amazing use of an immense palette of colors from the orchestra. An almost endless development of a simple theme that rises slowly, hypnotically, at times almost imperceptibly, builds, feeling as though it might never end  (nor did I want it to).  As it rises, weaving through a tapestry of riches, it evokes our notions of heaven . . . of the cosmos. And then . . . oh, and then . . . we are greeted by the entrance of the worldless female voices - the heavens opening, and the full beauty of this moment feels as splendid as the sun. My eyes misted with tears, mouths fell open (yes, they did!) and it was, indeed, as magical as any music I have experienced in any concert hall.  So powerful was this effect . . . so beautiful, that for a brief moment nobody did - or could do - anything. As the music faded, it gave way to an explosion of bravos, cheers, whistles (the good kind) and a pounding ocean of applause. There was, a palpable sense we had witnessed something rare.  We had.  

The Red Shoes

For several days now I have been held under the spell of "The Red Shoes" - in
the newly restored version playing film festival circuits, but still not available
on DVD in the United States (why? It's been available in England for close to
a year now).

As I've been reading nothing but raves about its new appearance and the restoration, and with not a single word about a U.S. release (again, why?) I headed over to Amazon.UK.Com and snagged a copy of this deluxe 2-disc set for the grand total of $12.01 (yes, that included international shipping from the U.K.!) This really is the crowning achievement of the Powell & Pressberger films and all I can say is: C'est magnifique . . . and give me The Red Shoes!

"Stunned" isn't nearly strong enough a word for my reaction as I had gooseflesh sustained for pretty much the film's entire 133 minutes. First off; this new print is nothing short of remarkable with a life-like vividness that (literally) must be seen to be believed. The color saturation is without a doubt the richest I've ever seen in any restored old film - the Technicolor restored as gloriously as promised (though achieved with today's digital technology making a very convincing argument for whatever process they used).

Since childhood, I have had a few problems with the end of this film - nearly two hours of sheer amazingness and character development followed by a rushed, forced and not entirely believable denoument with Vicky as "monkey in the middle" as she's torn emotionally assunder by Lermontov and Julian each making their bid on her life. Still, that's a minor quibble.

Moira Shearer probably never looked lovelier in her life than here - she is freaking delicious - an odd combination of ingenue but with a bit of Nora Desmond in her eyes. It's a wonderful effect.

"Put on the Red Shoes, Vicky!" When Anon Walbrook as Lermontov utters these words to her on the train - it sent a chill down my spine just as it did the very first time I saw it as a kid. Walbrook's Lermontov is one of the most richly detailed villains in all of film (I hate calling him a villain at all). Offering both subtlety and super-sized obviousness Walbrook has a field day creating this wonderfully complex monster.

The "Red Shoes Ballet" looks simply spectacular and one can only watch in marvel and wonderment at how its brilliant effects were achieved. Visually, it is one of the most incredible, eye arresting things I've seen created for the screen. A marvelous, surrealist nightmare/dream - portions of it reminded me (very strongly) of the expressionist silent masterpiece "The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari" - so much, in fact, I couldn't help but wonder if it might not have been borrowed from . . . or at least inspired by it.

With two disc sets, I'm finding that often I'm a bit let down by the "extras" (and was so here as well). Nevertheless, this is one of the better efforts for this sort of thing and definitely has some features of interest. The short (23 or 24 minute) documentary about the making of the film was more than merely fascinating - and could easily have been an hour longer and held anyone's attention.

In it I learned the film was actually HATED by the producers, at its first showing to them (they walked out in disgusted silence), and panned by the British generally as a "failure" and a mess. We learn about a theater owner in New York who asked to show the film and was given a copy - and played it to sold out houses over the next two years. (This is where Scorcese first saw the film as a child). tTwo years after it premiered, Universal thought the film should be a hit, picked up and marketed across the globe and the film entered that rarified status very few films ever achieve.

The most fascinating extra of all however, is the 17 minute film made of "The Red Shoes Ballet" - in which the score for the ballet is wed to the storyboard's color paintings by the film's production designer, Hein Heckroth (assisted by Ivor Beddoes) which was shown to the producers, etc. to get the project off the ground. It is in and of itself amazing - and even more so to consider that the actual production would look nearly identical to the paintings.

All in all, this is a truly remarkable achievement which took years to put together and was the centrepiece of the Cannes Festival last year.

Just to keep it "topical" - we should not forget the third wheel in this story is the young composer, Julian Craster (Marius Goring) Vicky's romantic interest who hopes to achieve fame with his opera "Cupid and Psyche" (sounding a bit like Barber)- which we get to hear the "world premiere from Covent Garden" over the radio. Of course the entire story has a "Vissi d'arte" "I live for art" feel about it which should still resonate strongly with those of us who believe - one way or another - that indeed we do!

This new print really must be seen and I cannot recommend it highly enough.