Includes work(s) by Larry Austin. Soloists: F. Gerard Errante, Stephen Duke, Robert Black (doublebass), Michael Lowenstern, Jacqueline Martelle.

CDCM Computer Music Series, Vol. 1

TALBOT Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland: Suite. Fool’s Paradise • Christopher Austin, cond; Royal PO • SIGNUM 327 (67:12)


James Reel in his Fanfare 34:5 review of choreographer Christopher Wheeldon’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland ballet on DVD hailed, as have most critics, Joby Talbot’s score as a significant triumph. I could not agree more with Reel’s assessment, and was particularly struck by his wish that Talbot had been asked to write the scores to those Harry Potter movies which John Williams had been unable to undertake. I had a similar thought as I listened to this release for the first time. Talbot’s work only peripherally sounds like Williams’s scoring for that franchise, but magic, and yearning, and menace, and whimsy (to use Reel’s descriptors) are qualities of both Harry’s and Alice’s story, and Talbot captures these qualities with skill equal to that of the illustrious American composer.


Alice was the first full-length ballet commissioned by the Royal Ballet in almost 20 years, and this almost 40-minute suite encompasses but a third of the two-hour score. It uses the same large orchestra with its huge tuned percussion section and four amplified women’s voices, and, while it follows its own music-driven dramatic arc, it is well devised to demonstrate the range of the whole. One might regret the exclusion of the caterpillar’s sensuous Indian music, which, while less distinctive than say the opening bitonal ticking-clock motif which reappears throughout the work, is still delightfully flavorful. And the contrapuntal tapping of the Mad Hatter at the tea party is certainly an integral part and should have been included here. Still that is quibbling. Talbot wisely avoids the riotous Rose Adagio parody, which depends on the visual antics, but does include the Red Queen’s manic Tango and The Croquet Match with her scordatura solo violin theme. Alice’s solo, Alice Alone , provides an expressive center to the suite, and the Cheshire Cat grins most mysteriously. Talbot ends the suite with the act I finale: the exuberance of the waltz for the Living Flowers and the innocent longing of the pas de deux for Alice and her Knave of Hearts.


The theme of longing is continued in Fool’s Paradise , another dance collaboration with Wheeldon. The score is based on Talbot’s 2002 The Dying Swan , written for piano trio to accompany the 1917 Evgenii Bauer film of the same name. The film tells the story of a ballerina admired, painted, and then strangled by a crazed artist. Wheeldon takes this in a completely different direction, assisted by Talbot’s rich orchestration for strings and piano, to suggest the shadowy atmosphere of the fairy-inhabited Athenian forest of A Midsummer Night’s Dream . The score, with its popular and classical inspirations, develops slowly over ostinatos in the manner of the minimalists. It is perhaps less compelling on its own than when accompanying the dancers, but is still lovely in the abstract, and so hauntingly evocative that it should not be hard to conjure one’s own visuals if the need is felt.


Friend, frequent collaborator, and conductor Christopher Austin did much of the orchestration of the Alice score, suggesting that he should know the music as well as anyone. So it proves here, supported by a Royal Philharmonic Orchestra exceedingly sensitive to the many demands of both scores. There are moments in fact, as in Alice’s solo, where Austin finds even more poignancy and ecstasy than Barry Wordsworth does in the fine video version. The engineering is first-rate and the program notes and pictures most supportive. This is a marvelous supplement to the video of the ballet, or the perfect introduction to Joby Talbot’s music for those uninterested in ballet…though given a chance Wheeldon and Talbot might just cure that.


FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames

BRODSGAARD: in girum imus nocte et consumimur igni (we enter

Brodsgaard: Galaxy

An exciting souvenir of an historic occasion.

The late nineteenth century opera-goer would expect as a matter of course that Les Huguenots would be included in any self-respecting operatic season. Although Bernard Shaw (as Corno di Bassetto) pokes fun at it, it is affectionate fun. Listening to these discs, whatever their shortcomings, one can understand why it held the stage for so long. It would be foolish to make comparisons with other large-scale operas concerned with the interface of public and private concerns by, say, Verdi or Berlioz, but it is effective and thoughtfully constructed and has moments of real grandeur and pathos. Alas, live performances now are far too rare which makes the availability of recordings all the more important as a way towards appreciating the work.

The only score I possess is that of the Italian version edited by Sullivan and Pittman, and I am unclear to what extent that represents the composer’s intentions. A pencil note in my copy indicates with some asperity that the performance was finished at the end of Act 4 by “Harris Italian Opera” (Covent Garden) on 27 October 1882, showing that a need to cut it has been felt for a very long time. As far as I am aware the opera has only once been recorded anywhere near complete, but that version, issued by Decca in 1970, does not appear to be available at present. Certainly it had some serious defects, notably the casting of Raoul, but it also had the immense virtue of avoiding harmful cuts and of the choice of Joan Sutherland as Queen Marguerite. The present version also has the latter virtue – her stunning vocal presence still undimmed twenty years later – but makes very extensive cuts in just about every number, somewhat surprisingly as both versions are conducted by Richard Bonynge. The result is that the new version is certainly shorter but less effective in building up tension or realising the scale of the work as a whole. There is nonetheless, for the most part, a real sense of the excitement of a live performance; something lacking for much of the earlier and more complete set. Indeed it is the understandable presence of such excitement that is the main reason for issuing this set as it comprises Dame Joan’s final stage performance. The audience is clearly aware of the historical importance of the occasion and applauds her whenever it gets a chance.

It would be understandable if the rest of the cast felt that they were merely supporting a star’s farewell appearance, but that would not be sufficient for an opera which notoriously requires seven star singers. It does not really get them here although all concerned sound thoroughly involved despite the various moments with the kind of errors that occur normally in live performances. Anson Austin as Raoul and Amanda Thane as Valentine give gallant and exciting if occasionally inaccurate performances of what must be exceptionally difficult roles. The other leading roles are adequately sung if without the kind of especial distinction that they really require. The chorus and orchestra, and especially the latter, make the most of their opportunities, with some very lovely solo playing in the many opportunities given by Meyerbeer’s wonderfully imaginative scoring, one of his main virtues as a composer.

The presentation of the set is frankly poor, with little more than a couple of pictures of the occasion and a very brief synopsis. If text and translation are not to be included much more than this is needed to help the listener unfamiliar with the work. I understand that a DVD is also available. I have not seen it but would imagine that it would provide a better souvenir of the occasion and also give a better idea of the opera and what is happening in it, especially if subtitles are available. The present set remains nonetheless a record of an important occasion, when the retirement of one of Australia’s greatest artistes was saluted by her fellow countrymen with a performance by her national opera company in a world famous building. Understandably after lengthy applause the set ends with speeches of congratulation and Dame Joan’s singing of “Home, sweet home”. There was not a dry eye in the house, I am sure, and even many years after the event in my own (sweet) home listening to this was a memorably moving experience. This is not the recording of Les Huguenots of which I dream but it is an exciting souvenir of an historic occasion.

-- John Sheppard, MusicWeb International

Classical Music

Gian Carlo Menotti was sent by his mother from Italy to study at the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia and achieved nearly immediate success following his schooling: when he was just twenty-two, 'Amelia Goes to the Ball' was performed at the Metropolitan Opera. 'The Consul' followed several years (and operas) later, and was greeted with critical acclaim, both for its musical and dramatic strengths, but for its topical nature. The story of a young family yearning for freedom from oppression had great resonance in 1950.
Menotti writes both words and music for most of his operas, resulting in an extraordinarily well-suited marriage of words and music. His sense for setting the English language--particularly for a non-native speaker--is finely tuned, and his vocal lines are always sensitive to both the notes and the words, rather than the music dragging the text along.
This recording of 'The Consul' comes from a production produced and directed by Menotti at the Spoleto Festival in 1998. The presence of the composer and the keen musical and dramatic aspects of the conductor and performers make this an excellent set.