I have always had a
slight love-hate relationship with opera
on recordings. Lucky to have been introduced
early to opera with regular season-tickets
to the Welsh National Opera in the 1980s,
I retain a colourful and vivid set of
memories which make me ashamed to say
that I can count my visits to the ‘Stopera’
in Amsterdam on the fingers of one hand.
These impressions reinforce my idea
that the full impact of good opera has
to be experienced in the flesh. I am
sure that many would agree on this,
but there is no denying that there are
a number of operas whose content transcends
the visual, and whose music would stand
in almost any medium or context.
Knowing Tippett’s musical
language, and being armed with prior
knowledge of the ‘Ritual Dances’ as
recognisable milestones make listening
to The Midsummer Marriage an
attractive prospect. Lyrita’s excellent
recording and the superb quality of
the performance on offer complete this
picture to provide an irresistible combination
for opera lovers and Tippett fans alike.
First issued in 1971 the recording needs
no defending, with singers, chorus and
orchestra in full and lively presence,
the soloists in excellent balance with
the accompaniment. Detailed booklet
notes by David Cairns are supplemented
by insightful extracts from Tippett’s
own writing on ‘The Birth of an Opera’,
and the composer’s own libretto is of
course given in full, with those ever-essential
track markings printed as well.
Part of the charm of
this work was also perceived to be part
of its weakness in the past. Even after
the ‘difficulties’ which dogged Tippett’s
technically demanding compositional
techniques had become better understood,
the problems in staging The Midsummer
Marriage into some kind of coherent
theatrical production – translating
all of that rich fantasy and symbolism
into effectively staged action and reaction,
remained an issue for both producers
and critics. Recorded here only fifteen
years after its genesis, this opera
works superbly well on record for many
reasons. The music is powerful and almost
overwhelmingly energetic in its own
right, the sometimes deceptively and
movingly simple, sometimes highly complex
melodic invention make for incredible
concert music: you can listen to it
as a kind of oratorio, close your eyes
and bathe in the sheer wonder of it
all, unencumbered by a sense that you
are missing some kind of visual feast.
So, what’s it all about?
You can accuse me of being a lazy reviewer,
but the story to me has a secondary
role. You can deepen your knowledge
of the piece by following the libretto,
but even then there are great swathes
of text which may leave you none the
wiser. I have to admit that this piece,
as a whole opera, was new to me. As
I mentioned before I’m not usually a
pushover when it comes to opera on recordings
– left stranded with all that wobbly
singing and stamping about, but this
issue is a life-enhancing creation which
no serious music lover should be without.
Once I’d started I was hooked, and played
the whole thing through, relishing every
moment. If you are in any doubt, try
and persuade someone to let you hear
the last two tracks on CD2. I know you’re
not supposed to peek at the last pages
of a novel before starting, but if you
can even begin to imagine the build-up
to such a beautiful and triumphant ending
then you’ll want to hear the whole thing
anyway, and that more than once.
Dominy Clements
see also review
by Colin Clarke
for
details
Chorus and Orchestra of the Royal Opera House,
Covent Garden/Colin Davis. 
