I, too, must begin with a confession: 
          I love Berlioz, but I have always had to agree with the pre-1957 estimate 
          of The Trojans as neatly expressed by Ian Kemp in the programme: 
          ‘…tedious, impracticable, needing ruthless cutting – although admittedly 
          inspired here and there.’ Exactly, and this performance did little to 
          alter that view, despite the magnificent playing and choral singing.
        
        
I have little to add to my colleague’s 
          estimation of the quality of the musical direction and playing: I have 
          seldom heard the lower strings of any orchestra sound better, and for 
          woodwind one would need to go to the Berlin Philharmonic to encounter 
          anything equalling the mellow sheen on that sound. The ‘Royal Hunt and 
          Storm’ was brilliantly done, and the clarinet accompanying Dido’s moment 
          of truth was eloquently beautiful: throughout the evening, Davis drew 
          from the LSO playing of absolute clarity 
          and overwhelming mastery. It was the same story with the LSO chorus, 
          superbly trained by Joseph Cullen so that such moments as ‘Haine éternelle 
          a la race d’Ėnee!’ were the high points they should be, and as 
          for ‘Des armes! Des armes!’ I nearly leapt 
          over the head of the man in front of me. 
        
        
The solo singing was less remarkable: 
          I can well understand my colleague being transported by the Cassandra 
          of Petra Lang, who really has no equals in this role, and the Corebus 
          of William Dazeley, but these characters are dead by the end of Part 
          1, making only brief appearances in Part II as their ghosts. It is of 
          course Dido and Aeneas who dominate the second part, and Michelle de 
          Young and Ben Heppner offer strongly committed, mostly finely sung interpretations 
          which score high in terms of beauty of tone but are less than ideal 
          in their emotional impact. De Young’s presence is queenly, or rather 
          imperial, and she is at her best in her more serene moments: the wonderful 
          duet with Anna (the reliable Sara Mingardo) ‘Une étrange tristesse’ 
          represented her finest singing, displaying her fluent legato and warmth 
          of tone, but elsewhere she is stately rather than passionate, and I 
          would like to hear a more incisive use of French, since many of her 
          words seemed to get lost in transit. In her final laments, she did rise 
          to the occasion of what is to me the most moving moment in the entire 
          opera, ‘Vénus! Rends-moi ton fils!’ but much of her singing here 
          was attractively done rather than searingly involving: it’s not necessary 
          to wring one’s hands, but the audience’s hearts can be wrung by means 
          of a more varied range of tone and expression. 
        
        
Ben Heppner’s Aeneas seemed to 
          have tired considerably by the time his big moments had arrived: his 
          is still a great voice, but in this role, 
          at least on this occasion, it lacks that essential ardour, and his French 
          is somewhat woolly in articulation. ‘Reine, je suis Ėnee!’ should 
          either send shivers down your spine or make you jump, but here it did 
          not, and ‘Ah! Quand viendra l’instant des 
          suprêmes adieux’ was marred by a couple of very effortful high 
          notes (to put it kindly) although he still presented a convincing portrait 
          of this irresolute hero’s tribulations.
        
        
Robert Lloyd’s Narbal was smoothly 
          convincing in characterization and very well sung, and I was much impressed 
          with the Panthus of Tigran Martirossian and the Ascanius of Pamela Helen 
          Stephen. The two high lyric tenors were disappointing: Toby Spence has 
          a lovely voice but he sang ‘Vallon sonore’ so quietly that parts were 
          inaudible, and Kenneth Tarver’s Iopas just strayed over onto the wrong 
          side of plaintive during ‘O blonde Cérès,’ although his 
          French was more exact than that of most of the cast. 
        
        
The audience reaction was ecstatic: 
          there’s clearly a deep emotional need for these huge works to be heard 
          here, even if they are inconsistent in musical impact and performance. 
          Nothing but praise for orchestra and conductor, but the rest was not 
          the overwhelming experience that Part 1 seems to have been. 
        
Melanie Eskenazi 
        
Footnote 
        
Berlioz’ 
          Opera The Trojans
        
At 
          a fantastic double Prom concert on Monday 25th August 2003 
          I heard this work for the first time …a long overdue experience. I was 
          two years old so missed it when the Glasgow Grand Opera Society gave 
          the first complete performance of The Trojans in one day in Britain 
          (first ever outside France) under the musical direction of my father, 
          the Scottish composer Erik Chisholm. The event is documented in The 
          New Grove Dictionary of Music, the Concise Oxford Dictionary of Opera 
          et alia as are first performances of two other operas by Berlioz 
          by this team in the 'thirties.
        There 
          are still people around who remember the excitement of a special coach 
          attached to the London train to bring music lovers,VIPs and critics 
          to Glasgow on Saturday 19th March 1935. After Part one "The 
          Capture of Troy", there was an hour’s tea interval when the guests 
          mingled with performers before the last three acts took place.
        
        Lead 
          singers were professional, the chorus and orchestra amateur The reviews 
          that followed included some explosive headlines
        "Splendid 
          Courage in Grand Opera" 
        "Glasgow 
          Amateurs Arouse Envy of Musical World"
        "London 
          in Eclipse" 
        
        Among 
          the guests were Hamilton Harty, Donald Francis Tovey, and Ernest Newman 
          who wrote of "Glasgow’s brave effort". Sir Thomas Beecham 
          did not attend. He refused Chisholm’s invitation saying "How does 
          a little whipper-snapper like you think you can do the Trojans? I am 
          going to do the Trojans" Which indeed he did -many years later.
        
        Yet 
          the Chisholm/Glasgow Grand first continues to be overlooked. The Prom 
          2003 Programme notes that "the scandal of how The Trojans lay hidden 
          for a hundred years has now been put right. The opera first rose from 
          the depths in a Covent Garden production of 1957,when it was given very 
          nearly as Berlioz had written it, and in one evening-and revealed as 
          a masterpiece." 
        
        This 
          is not an isolated oversight. Chisholm’s wife Diana interviewed in1979, 
          many years after his death said "it was like knocking my head against 
          a brick wall to get the Glasgow Trojans first performance admitted." 
          
        
        In 
          the language of Berlioz " ...plus c’est la meme chose" 
        Perhaps 
          though with Internet and website channels bringing a rapid exchange 
          of information to a vast network of readers, brick walls can be knocked 
          down.
        So we 
          will take up the cudgels.
        Morag 
          Chisholm for the Erik Chisholm Trust. www.erikchisholm.com
        	e-mail 
          address morag.chisholm@virgin.net			 
          12 September 2003