Benjamin Britten’s music formed one of the pillars of the Czech Philharmonic’s concert programmes under its chief conductor Karel Ančerl. The famous Variations on a Theme of Purcell was in all likelihood the most frequently performed work (in 1962 also in England), and this CD contains the previously unreleased 1958 recording in the original version without narration.

The enchanting and joyous Spring Symphony, commissioned by Serge Koussevitzky, was presented in Czech in Prague by Ančerl, the Czech Philharmonic and the finest soloists of the time. Forming a stark contrast to these two works is the War Requiem, a grand piece commemorating the victims of the most gruesome armed conflict in human history. Britten dedicated it to the memory of four friends of his who died in WWII while serving in the British navy or army. The work’s Czech premiere, with the participation of superlative foreign soloists (Gerald English, John Cameron), took place less than four years after its world premiere. So enthused was he by the work that in November 1969, following his emigration to Canada, Ančerl included the War Requiem in one of his first concerts in Toronto. The conductor’s personal profound experience of the senseless barbarity of the war imbued his conception of the work with a chilling authenticity. Both of the two previously unreleased concert recordings were made by the former Czechoslovak Radio.

Staged by Luc Bondy.

Sound: PCM Stereo, Dolby Digital 5.1, DTS 5.1
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish

BRITTEN The Rape of Lucretia • Paul Daniel, cond; Sarah Connolly (Lucretia); Christopher Maltman (Tarquinius); John Mark Ainsley (Male Chorus); Orla Boylan (Female Chorus); Clive Bayley (Collatinus); Leigh Melrose (Junius); Catherine Wyn-Rogers (Bianca); Mary Nelson (Lucia); O of the English Natl Op • OPUS ARTE 7135 (Blu-ray: 120:00) Live: Aldeburgh 6/2001

Premiered at Glyndebourne in July of 1946, The Rape of Lucretia was Britten’s first stage work after Peter Grimes, and the first he called a “chamber opera.” It was composed for just eight singers and a chamber ensemble of 12 instrumentalists, but a good performance of Lucretia packs at least as much of an emotional wallop as Peter Grimes or Billy Budd, and this performance is indeed a good one. A mood of dread and tense expectation is established in the opening scene for the Roman generals—Collatinus, Junius, and the depraved Tarquinius—that hardly lets up for the entire work. Four of the singes are truly top-notch: John Mark Ainsley and Orla Boylan as the Male and Female Chorus, Sarah Connolly in the title role, and Christopher Maltman (officially a “Barihunk,” who gets to take his shirt off for the rape scene) portraying Tarquinius. The other singers also cover their roles quite effectively. For example, the peaceful oasis in act I, scene 2, where the servants Bianca and Lucia wordlessly accompany the Female Chorus, is especially lovely.

As is frequently the case for this artist, stage director David McVicar questions, clarifies, and reconsiders. In a brief “Extra Feature,” McVicar explains that he actively rebelled against Britten’s specific instructions that the Male and Female Chorus should comment on the action, but not participate in it. Here, the two interact on stage with the other six singers, which makes the production considerably more theatrical and much less stylized. One reason, McVicar offers, is that Lucretia’s relationship with the Female Chorus can counter the typical “objectification” of the character—we can more easily understand her as something other than a sexual target. Lucretia’s costume is almost frumpish; she’s no fancier in her dress than her servants. She sports a plain, short hairstyle and wears very little jewelry. This wife of a powerful Roman general is certainly no temptress. This effort to de-glamorize the character may further confuse the already confused matter as to why Lucretia feels any sense of blame for her violation, why she won’t accept her husband’s absolution and kills herself. McVicar doesn’t seem to have much trouble with the opera’s “Christian” epilog, which was added (perhaps, it’s been said, at the urging of Peter Pears) to soften the harsh tragedy of Lucretia’s death by invoking the suffering and sacrifice of Christ. The director reminds us that the work was introduced just following World War II, when the world was attempting to come to grips with the senseless horror of the Holocaust. But a listener certainly won’t feel warm and fuzzy after the final blackout: This production maintains plenty of the moral ambiguity inherent to the score and libretto.

In keeping with the modest musical forces employed, Yannis Thavoris’s set and costume design is simple, attempting no profound commentary of its own. The recorded sound is good, with excellent detail to reveal Britten’s imaginative use of the small orchestra. Subtitle choices are English, French, German, Japanese, and Korean.

FANFARE: Andrew Quint

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Also available on standard DVD

Seventy years after its Glyndebourne world premiere, Benjamin Britten's first chamber opera is welcomed home with "a performance of enthralling emotional power and physical beauty" gifted with "piercingly intelligent, immaculately realized staging and superb singing, acting an playing" led by "Fiona Shaw's supremely nuanced direction" and underpinned by "febrile playing" from members of the London Philharmonic Orchestra (The Telegraph, five stars). The production eloquently and tastefully tackles the difficult subject, which is lent emotional weight by "Christine Rice's grandly sung Lucretia, noble in tone yet tragically vunerable", along with baritone Duncan Rock's "forthright" Tarquinius and the "smooth bass" of Matthew Rose as the caring Collantinus (The Guardian, five stars).

Video Format: 1080p HD
Sound Formats: LPCM 2.0, 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Region Code: 0 (All Regions)
Running Time: 114 mins (Opera), 17 mins (Extras)

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Also available on standard DVD

Benjamin Britten
THE RAPE OF LUCRETIA
(Blu-ray Disc Version)

Lucretia – Sarah Connolly
Tarquinius – Christopher Maltman
Bianca – Catherine Wyn-Rogers
Lucia – Mary Nelson
Junius – Leigh Melrose
Collatinus – Clive Bayley
Female Chorus – Orla Boylan
Male Chorus – John Mark Ainsley

English National Opera Orchestra
Paul Daniel, conductor

David McVicar, stage director

Recorded live at the Aldeburgh Festival, The Maltings, Snape, 2001

Bonus:
- Cast gallery

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 120 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

R E V I E W:
BRITTEN The Rape of Lucretia • Paul Daniel, cond; Sarah Connolly (Lucretia); Christopher Maltman (Tarquinius); John Mark Ainsley (Male Chorus); Orla Boylan (Female Chorus); Clive Bayley (Collatinus); Leigh Melrose (Junius); Catherine Wyn-Rogers (Bianca); Mary Nelson (Lucia); O of the English Natl Op • OPUS ARTE 7135 (Blu-ray: 120:00) Live: Aldeburgh 6/2001

Premiered at Glyndebourne in July of 1946, The Rape of Lucretia was Britten’s first stage work after Peter Grimes, and the first he called a “chamber opera.” It was composed for just eight singers and a chamber ensemble of 12 instrumentalists, but a good performance of Lucretia packs at least as much of an emotional wallop as Peter Grimes or Billy Budd, and this performance is indeed a good one. A mood of dread and tense expectation is established in the opening scene for the Roman generals—Collatinus, Junius, and the depraved Tarquinius—that hardly lets up for the entire work. Four of the singes are truly top-notch: John Mark Ainsley and Orla Boylan as the Male and Female Chorus, Sarah Connolly in the title role, and Christopher Maltman (officially a “Barihunk,” who gets to take his shirt off for the rape scene) portraying Tarquinius. The other singers also cover their roles quite effectively. For example, the peaceful oasis in act I, scene 2, where the servants Bianca and Lucia wordlessly accompany the Female Chorus, is especially lovely.

As is frequently the case for this artist, stage director David McVicar questions, clarifies, and reconsiders. In a brief “Extra Feature,” McVicar explains that he actively rebelled against Britten’s specific instructions that the Male and Female Chorus should comment on the action, but not participate in it. Here, the two interact on stage with the other six singers, which makes the production considerably more theatrical and much less stylized. One reason, McVicar offers, is that Lucretia’s relationship with the Female Chorus can counter the typical “objectification” of the character—we can more easily understand her as something other than a sexual target. Lucretia’s costume is almost frumpish; she’s no fancier in her dress than her servants. She sports a plain, short hairstyle and wears very little jewelry. This wife of a powerful Roman general is certainly no temptress. This effort to de-glamorize the character may further confuse the already confused matter as to why Lucretia feels any sense of blame for her violation, why she won’t accept her husband’s absolution and kills herself. McVicar doesn’t seem to have much trouble with the opera’s “Christian” epilog, which was added (perhaps, it’s been said, at the urging of Peter Pears) to soften the harsh tragedy of Lucretia’s death by invoking the suffering and sacrifice of Christ. The director reminds us that the work was introduced just following World War II, when the world was attempting to come to grips with the senseless horror of the Holocaust. But a listener certainly won’t feel warm and fuzzy after the final blackout: This production maintains plenty of the moral ambiguity inherent to the score and libretto.

In keeping with the modest musical forces employed, Yannis Thavoris’s set and costume design is simple, attempting no profound commentary of its own. The recorded sound is good, with excellent detail to reveal Britten’s imaginative use of the small orchestra. Subtitle choices are English, French, German, Japanese, and Korean.

FANFARE: Andrew Quint

Led by violinist Markus Daunert, the ensemble of musicians on this album deliver energized performances of Benjamin Britten’s works for string ensemble. The Aldeburgh Strings ensemble was founded over four decades go by Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears, so it is fitting that the ensemble records these outstanding works. Featured soloists on this album include Markus Daunert, Richard Watkins, Allan Clayton, Mate Szucs, and Lorenzo Soules.

Review:

Founded in 2010, Aldeburgh Strings bring together advanced students for intensive periods of study. The concentration achieved on the course is evident from the standard of playing here.

Britten's buoyant Young Apollo is expressive and substantial, and Lorenzo Soulès is a dexterous solo pianist. Angst permeates the string clusters of Lachrymae early on, too (how powerfully the bass notes resound in Snape Maltings' generous acoustic). In this resonant hall the Prelude and Fugue sounds bigger in forces than it really is. All are performances to be recommended.

The poetry in the Serenade is sung with clarity and perception, the 'dark, secret love' in the Blake becoming an inner thought confided to the microphone. Richard Watkins is commanding as the horn soloist and Aldeburgh Strings are again a vivid presence.

– Gramophone

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Benjamin Britten
PETER GRIMES

Peter Grimes – John Graham Hall
Boy – Francesco Malvuccio
Ellen Orford – Susan Gritton
Captain Balstrode – Christopher Purves
Auntie – Felicity Palmer
First Niece – Ida Falk Winland
Second Niece – Simona Mihai
Bob Boles – Peter Hoare
Swallow – Daniel Okulitch
Mrs. Sedley – Catherine Wyn-Rogers
Rev. Horace Adams – Christopher Gillett
Ned Keene – George von Bergen

Milan La Scala Chorus and Orchestra
Robin Ticciati, conductor

Richard Jones, stage director

Recorded live at the Teatro alla Scala, June 2012

Bonus:
- Interviews with cast and crew

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 168 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

-----

REVIEW:

Robin Ticciati brings transparency and detail to the score, director Richard Jones focuses on Grimes the outsider and the entire cast gives a magnificent performance.

– Gramophone

Classical Music

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Benjamin Britten
DEATH IN VENICE

Gustav von Aschenbach - John Graham Hall
Traveller / Elderly Fop / Gondolier / Barber / Hotel Manger / Player / Dionysus - Andrew Shore
Apollo - Tim Mead
Tadzio - Sam Zaldivar
The Polish Mother - Laura Caldow
Two Daughters - Mia Angelina Mather / Xhuliana Shehu
The Governess - Joyce Henderson
Jaschiu - Marcio Teixeira

English National Opera Chorus and Orchestra
Edward Gardner, conductor
Deborah Warner, stage director

Recorded live at the London Coliseum, June 2013

Picture format:1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Korean
Running time: 153 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

BRITTEN Death in Venice • Edward Gardner, cond; John Graham-Hall (Aschenbach); Andrew Shore (Traveler, Elderly Fop, Old Gondolier, Hotel Manager, Hotel Barber, Leader of Players, Voice of Dionysus); Tim Mead (Voice of Apollo); English Natl Op O & Ch • OPUS ARTE 1130 (DVD: 153:00) Live: London 6/18, 21, 24/2013

Benjamin Britten’s last opera, Death in Venice, has never really caught on, except perhaps in England itself. It has appeared twice at the New York Met, but the last appearance was some 20 years ago. I don’t believe it ever sold out the house. Based on a rather pretentious novella by Thomas Mann, the story seemingly does not adapt well to the operatic stage. The main conflict is an internal one for the aged main character, Gustav von Aschenbach, between powerful homoerotic lust for a young boy and the desperate desire to maintain his dignity and moral rectitude. Scene changes are so numerous the opera requires 17 short tableaus, a stage director’s nightmare. Britten’s score is also rather quirky and austere as befits the story, and lacks much melody. There are really only three singing roles, although the chorus is quite busy in several of the tableaus. Most of the heavy lifting (or singing) is done by the old man and a deus ex machina who appears in several roles and seems to be propelling Aschenbach relentlessly to his fate (the title perhaps might reveal a clue as to that). Still in all, it is quite an engrossing drama to see once, and this English National Opera (ENO) production provides quite a good representation of it.

Accolades should go to stage director Deborah Warner, set designer Tom Pye, and costume designer Chloe Obolensky for the rapid, efficient scene changes and the eye-catching look of the staging. Most of the action occurs in and around Venice: on the beach, in the hotel, and in the city itself. The evocative perception of these settings is conveyed cleverly yet opulently with only the judicious use of a few props and curtains. Aschenbach’s erotic interest, the young boy Tadzio, and his chums on the beach are portrayed by dancers, so that Britten has ample opportunity to employ the orchestra without bothering the singers. Aschenbach surreptitiously follows the boy’s Polish family around: the mother with her parasol, two daughters, the boy, and a governess, all mute roles. They reminded me of a family of ducks parading constantly back and forth across the stage. If one’s attention sometimes flags, it is due more to the story itself than ENO’s creative staging.

None of the singers is vocally challenged by Britten’s score, though perhaps taxed for stamina, so consummate actors are the order of the day. The difficult role of Aschenbach, with all his internal struggles, is rendered powerfully here by John Graham-Hall. If Graham-Hall is not always completely successful in communicating the heat of his obsessive passion for the boy (they never talk) or his internal agonizing, it is at least partly due to what he is given to sing. Although Britten always claimed his declamation was based on natural inflections of speech, much of it doesn’t sound very natural, at least to these non-Brit ears. The multiple roles of the rather enigmatic propeller of Aschenbach’s fate are a bit reminiscent of the multiple, but singularly sung, villains in Tales of Hoffman. The role(s) is taken here by baritone Andrew Shore. Shore sings well and seems just creepy enough to give the story the proper feel of existential angst and ambiguity it requires. The third major singing role is that of the Voice of Apollo, the personification of Aschenbach’s rational and moral side, opposed to Shore’s Dionysus of licentious appetite. Sung here quite well by countertenor Tim Mead in one of the opera’s few arioso passages, the rather trite and overused convention of arguing inner voices at least retains some interest. As with many modern operas, Britten gives the orchestra a major role, and the ENO forces under Edward Gardner respond admirably (as do the choristers). Special mention also needs to be made of young dancer Sam Zaldivar, who portrays the boy Tadzio seductively, but with an athletic grace of movement. I watched with English subtitles, but they certainly weren’t necessary, diction is very clear and Britten never overpowers the singing with dense orchestration. Subtitles are also available in French, German, and Korean.

For a rather obscure opera, Death in Venice seems to have been served well on video. First came a 1981 Tony Palmer film that was supposed to give Britten’s life companion, tenor Peter Pears, his chance to record the role. In the event, Pears was invalided by a stroke and was replaced, apparently most admirably, by Robert Gard. Baritone John Shirley-Quirk is also mentioned as being very fine in the role of the Traveler, et al. There is also a 1990 Glyndebourne production, and a 2008 production from La Fenice in Venice itself, both of which received good reviews and both still available. I must confess I have seen none of these competitors. The La Fenice set is available in high definition Blu-ray, just as this Opus Arte disc. I may only have the inclination or opportunity to see Death in Venice once, and this handsome and well-performed ENO production certainly proves a fine way to do so. Recommended.

FANFARE: Bill White   

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Also available on standard DVD

Benjamin Britten’s last opera Death in Venice is based on the novella by Thomas Mann. It was first performed in England in 1973. The astringent score is marked by some haunting soundscapes of 'ambiguous Venice'. The boy Tadzio is portrayed by a silent dancer, gamelan-like percussion accompaniment. The music of the opera is precise, direct and movingly understated. Britten had been contemplating the novella for many years and began work in September 1970 with approaches to Piper and to Golo Mann, son of the author. Because of agreements between Warner Brothers and the estate of Thomas Mann for the production of Luchino Visconti’s 1971 film, Britten was advised not to see the movie when it was released. According to Colin Graham, director of the first production of the opera, some colleagues of the composer who did see the film found the relationship between Tadzio and Aschenbach "too sentimental and salacious". This contributed to the decision that Tadzio and his family and friends would be portrayed by non-speaking dancers. Themes in the work of "formalism in art and the perilous dignity of the acclaimed artist" have been noted.

Marlin Miller, tenor – Gustav von Aschenbach; Scott Hendricks, baritone – Traveller and other roles;François Bittar, countertenor – Voice of Apollo; Allessandro Riga, dancer – Tadzio;
La Fenice Theatre Orchestra and Chorus; Bruno Bartoletti, conductor
DIRECTION & COSTUMES: Pierluigi Pizzi
CHOREOGRAPHY: Gheorghe Iancu

Recorded Live at Teatro La Fenice, Venice 2008
NTSC; All Regions
Running time 155 min.
Sung in English
Subtitles: Italian, German, French, Spanish

Also available on Blu-ray

Benjamin Britten’s last opera Death in Venice is based on the novella by Thomas Mann. It was first performed in England in 1973. The astringent score is marked by some haunting soundscapes of 'ambiguous Venice'. The boy Tadzio is portrayed by a silent dancer, gamelan-like percussion accompaniment. The music of the opera is precise, direct and movingly understated. Britten had been contemplating the novella for many years and began work in September 1970 with approaches to Piper and to Golo Mann, son of the author. Because of agreements between Warner Brothers and the estate of Thomas Mann for the production of Luchino Visconti’s 1971 film, Britten was advised not to see the movie when it was released. According to Colin Graham, director of the first production of the opera, some colleagues of the composer who did see the film found the relationship between Tadzio and Aschenbach "too sentimental and salacious". This contributed to the decision that Tadzio and his family and friends would be portrayed by non-speaking dancers. Themes in the work of "formalism in art and the perilous dignity of the acclaimed artist" have been noted.

Marlin Miller, tenor – Gustav von Aschenbach; Scott Hendricks, baritone – Traveller and other roles;François Bittar, countertenor – Voice of Apollo; Allessandro Riga, dancer – Tadzio;
La Fenice Theatre Orchestra and Chorus; Bruno Bartoletti, conductor
DIRECTION & COSTUMES: Pierluigi Pizzi
CHOREOGRAPHY: Gheorghe Iancu

Recorded Live at Teatro La Fenice, Venice 2008
NTSC; Aspect Ratio:16:9, Audio Format:LPCM 2.0 - All Regions
Running time 155 min.
Sung in English
Subtitles: English, Italian, German, French, Spanish

Also available on Blu-ray

Glyndebourne has a proud association with the operas of Benjamin Britten, however until 2010 had never staged Billy Budd. The all-male opera with a libretto co-written by EM Forster, is based on the battle between pure good and blind evil, and is set on a British man-‘o-war ship. Michael Grandage, Artistic Director of the Donmar Warehouse, chose this work to make his long-awaited operatic debut. Sir Mark Elder returned to conduct the production, marking the 100th opera production in his illustrious career.



Benjamin Britten
BILLY BUDD

Captain Vere – John Mark Ainsley
Billy Budd – Jacques Imbrailo
Claggart – Phillip Ens
Mr. Redburn – Iain Paterson
Mr. Flint – Matthew Rose
Lieutenant Ratcliffe – Darren Jeffery
Red Whiskers – Alasdair Elliott
Donald – John Moore
Dansker – Jeremy White
Novice – Ben Johnson
Squeak – Colin Judson
Bosun – Richard Mosley-Evans

The Glyndebourne Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Mark Elder, conductor
Michael Grandage, stage director
Bonus:
- Introducing Billy Budd
- Designs on Billy Budd

Picture format: NTSC 16:9 Anamorphic
Sound format: LPCM Stereo 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish
Running time: 200 mins
No. of DVDs: 1

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD



Elsewhere in this issue I review—and excoriate—a Regietheater butchery of Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites . Here we have its polar opposite, an absolutely stupendous performance in which— mirabile dictu! —the production team dedicates itself to a scrupulously accurate and imaginatively vivid realization of the creators’ intentions. This is the first opera production by well-known British stage director Michael Grandage, who works here with an established team of collaborators: stage designer Christopher Oram (who has the deepest bass speaking voice I’ve ever heard; I have a basso profundo , and he makes me sound like a baritone!), lighting designer Paule Constable, and movement director Tom Roden. The results are nothing short of spectacular, and they deserve as much commendation as the singers for a brilliantly executed production.


Normally the interviews that accompany many opera DVDs are insubstantial fluff, but not here. In two excellent supplementary features, Introducing Billy Budd and Designs on Billy Budd , Grandage, Oram, and Constable articulate their conceptions with exceptional grace, and it is worth quoting them at some length.


Grandage: “From a director’s point of view, the starting point of any piece of work is trying to get back inside the creator’s head and what they imagined. I think that’s one of the most exciting jobs of an interpretive artist. … And so it’s always been of interest to me to use their starting point as my starting point. … I’m not the kind of director who enjoys immediately looking at a time and place set by the writer and then going ‘Let’s not do that.’ It gives me more pleasure to try and interpret something that was clear for them, when they first set about writing it, and trying to bring that clarity to a new production.”


Oram: “At the end of the day, the idea is to communicate ideas and to serve one person, which is the writer. I want to do him justice by presenting his works in the best way possible.”


Constable: “I’m just telling the same story the opera is telling. … I don’t want them [the audience] to notice the lighting. I just want them to be part of something that tells the story as well as it can.”


What is truly striking about all this is not just the clarity, concision, and intelligence with which this common viewpoint is stated, but rather the humility it expresses. In contrast to the pernicious egotism of Regietheater , wherein the director poses as a Nietzschean Übermensch who proclaims to the benighted hoi polloi his annihilation of all moral laws and social conventions, it offers the concept of service to the original artistic creator, rather than subjugation of him. At the end of the day, Regietheater is utterly futile because it is absolutely barren, its hopelessly self-referential gestures comprising a pseudo-intellectual onanism. By contrast, the traditional period productions the Regietheater practitioner scorns are those which, by virtue of fidelity to original time and place, paradoxically achieve temporal transcendence and become universal in their connotations. Consequently, they are infinitely more creative—and thus truly artistic—than the sterile and puerile gimmickry of directors whose pretensions to “originality” consist of spewing forth hackneyed clichés of contemporary pop cultural phenomena and political artifacts du jour.


In this particular case, the production team constructed a stage setting consisting of the interior of an 18th-century frigate, with the deck lines following the architecture of the floor and balconies of the opera house so that the audience feels itself to actually be inside the ship and immediately participating in the action. For the scenes that take place in cabins or below deck, a cross-hatched framework is lowered over the stage that, in conjunction with deft alteration of the lighting (including a remarkably eerie blue twilight), creates a claustrophobic atmosphere that perfectly underlines and heightens the dramatic tension culminating in Billy’s doom. The costumes are in harmony with the set, and the acting by all concerned is natural and unaffected, with crowd scenes of the entire ship’s crew exceptionally well conceived and managed. The booklet notes remark that “Unlike Melville, Grandage doesn’t grandstand the homoeroticism”; that would seem to be a remark more pertinent to co-librettist E. M. Forster than Melville, but as far as the staging is concerned it is all to the good.


With one partial exception, the singing is on as high a plane as the staging. John Mark Ainsley has long been one of England’s most accomplished tenors, and here as Captain Vere he gives what may be the crowning performance of his career, inhabiting the role with vocal and physical nuance as well as complete security. Ideally, one might wish for the greater sweetness of tone he possessed in his youth, but the now slightly more strained timbre of his upper register serves here to accentuate the inner tensions of a fundamentally good man whose great flaw is an overly punctilious adherence to regulations that he allows to thwart his nobler impulses at a crucial moment. As Billy Budd, Jacques Imbrailo is the finest exponent of the role since Theodore Uppman in the world premiere; he not only has the requisite bright, rock-steady baritone with an open top, but also the looks, athleticism, and air of good-hearted, youthful innocence that no one between him and Uppman has fully accomplished on recordings. Interestingly, in his on-camera interview Imbrailo evinces a slight stammer—noticeably on words beginning with a hard “th” sound such as “the”—and one suspects that this provided him with a unique degree of insight into and empathy with the character of Billy that makes his personification so radiant.


The only serious, albeit limited, reservation I have concerns Phillip Ens as Claggart. Interpretively he is superb, the perfect embodiment of pure malevolence concealed behind the mask of duty; but too often, particularly in his middle range, his voice becomes unfocused and diffuse, with something of a wobble. However, the same thing is true of virtually every other bass who previously has recorded this part (Friedrich Dahlberg, Michael Langdon, Eric Halfvarson, and John Tomlinson immediately come to mind) and Ens is actually less flawed in this regard than most of them. It’s a crying shame that Robert Lloyd was never called upon to commit the part to disc; fortunately Matthew Rose, an excellent Mr. Flint here, has just recorded Claggart for a superlative new set on Virgin Classics with the all-star lineup of Ian Bostridge, Nathan Gunn, and conductor Daniel Harding, that now claims pride of place as the best-sung Billy Budd in any medium. As Dansker, Jeremy White also has a sometimes diffuse vocal emission, but the timbre itself is so warm and genial that one forgives the fault and enjoys the otherwise ideal characterization. All of the other secondary characters—Iain Paterson as Mr. Redburn, Matthew Rose as Mr. Flint, Darren Jeffery as Lieutenant Ratcliffe, Ben Johnson as the Novice, Colin Judson as Squeak, Alasdair Elliot as Red Whiskers—are uniformly excellent, with Rose and Johnson being particularly impressive. While Sir Mark Elder is not the most incisive conductor of the score on disc, he has sturdy musical sea legs and sure-footedly navigates all the maritime depths of the score—here, the revised two-act version. The recorded sound quality is stupendous, particularly the deep, thunderous, rolling bass that rumbles through the theater without the slightest hint of dryness or muddiness.


Of the three DVD versions of Billy Budd available, this is easily the one of choice. It is superior in both film quality and the singing of the lead roles to the historic 1966 telecast with Peter Pears, Peter Glossop, Michael Langdon, and Charles Mackerras, recently released on Decca and reviewed by Paul Ingram in Fanfare 32:2, while both are vastly preferable to the abstractly staged and dramatically inert English National Opera production under David Atherton on Kultur despite the latter’s starry vocal cast of Philip Langridge, Thomas Allen, and Richard van Allen. The only regret I have is that this came in sixth place in the competition for a slot on my 2011 Want List; it is fully equal in worth to the five finalists I chose instead, and I cannot urge you strongly enough to make this a part of your music library. It is an instant classic of opera on film, and while in the future it may be equaled, I do not see how it will ever be surpassed.


FANFARE: James A. Altena


Benjamin Britten
BILLY BUDD
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Captain Vere – John Mark Ainsley
Billy Budd – Jacques Imbrailo
Claggart – Phillip Ens
Mr. Redburn – Iain Paterson
Mr. Flint – Matthew Rose
Lieutenant Ratcliffe – Darren Jeffery
Red Whiskers – Alasdair Elliott
Donald – John Moore
Dansker – Jeremy White
Novice – Ben Johnson
Squeak – Colin Judson
Bosun – Richard Mosley-Evans

The Glyndebourne Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Mark Elder, conductor
Michael Grandage, stage director
Bonus:
- Introducing Billy Budd
- Designs on Billy Budd

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM Stereo 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish
Running time: 200 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

800 liters of water, two sails, thirty pulleys, sixty hammocks : for the Bicentenary of the Teatro Real of Madrid, Deborah Warner coined a colossal production of Benjamin Britten’s Billy Budd. “Oh, what have I done?” Captain Edward Fairfax Vere, former commander of the H.M.S. Indomitable asks himself with horror at the beginning of the opera, before recounting the tragic events that took place aboard his ship in 1797. The story revolves around a young model sailor, Billy Budd, and John Claggart, the unscrupulous master-at-arms obsessed and crazed by Billy’s angelic beauty; and follows the characters in their fall down to the most infernal depths of perversion and psychosis, exploring the themes of innocence, culpability, individual responsibility and justice. In this ambiguous and symbolic tale, drawn from Herman Melville’s last masterpiece, the composer Benjamin Britten, who returns for the occasion to symphonic opera and its infinite possibilities, unsettles and disturbs us by revealing the complexity and universality of human experience. Far from writing the characters as allegories of Good and Evil, the opera shows us instead the remorseless logic followed by the surge of one’s darkest desires. But in this opera dominated by masculinity, Deborah Warner goes beyond the story of violence, jealousy and hatred and chooses to focus instead on the collateral beauty produced by comradeship, friendship and forgiveness. Tenor Jacques Imbrailo, who knows the title role perfectly, delivers a stunning rendition of the young sailor’s part, while British singers Toby Spence and Brindley Sherratt provide solid interpretations of Captain “Starry” Vere and of John Claggart. In the pit, Ivor Bolton masterfully deploys, along with the Orchestra of the Teatro Real, all the energy and power of Britten’s fifth opera.