Al-Ahram Weekly On-line 19 - 25 October 2000 Issue No. 504
Published in Cairo by AL-AHRAM established in 1875

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Pops and belly

By David Blake

Cairo Symphony Orchestra; Sherif El-Razaz, clarinet; Ahmed El-Saedi, conductor; Main Hall: Cairo Opera House, 14 October

With every vanity in flames the opera has gone for the mobile -- phones, programmes, music. Given its recent programmes, though, tonight's concert was a well-worn charge for orchestra and conductor Ahmed El-Saedi -- a battle cry charged with hope for a victorious finish.

There is not much about the Cairo Opera beyond conjecture. For the time being, it might as well be manufactured in Timbuktu, except that occasionally, flick flick, look what comes out of it.

Tonight began with Richard Strauss's early symphonic poem Don Juan. Regardless of what the programme intones, the Don was a fixer. He set a light to all the conventions and then went to Hell, there to brighten up many a party. This is how Strauss's music sets it.

Strauss, in his time, was the Gary Cooper of music -- tall, handsome and with a genius talent direct from God -- witty and irreverent. Kings and heads of state deferred to him. What a position for the Bavarian boy, who was 25 when this symphony was written. The music of Don Juan is young, dashing and insolent. You can never get angry with Strauss when he turns on all his melodic charm. If you persist in your disapproval you begin to look ridiculous.

El-Saedi chose the wrong colouring for what might otherwise have been a great performance. Don Juan exhudes that certain aroma. He brushes past you, expensive, sexy, with the kind of presence seldom encountered. He is a deep, rich burgundy. What we were given, though, was stale claret, and it simply will not do for Strauss. So the performance hurtled on, thin, noisy and devoid of the absolutely obligatory glamour.

Ahmed El-Saedi photo: Randa Shaath

It sounded as if El-Saedi knew that the track was the wrong one, and so wanted to move quicker and leave the deadly charmer behind. This, though, will not do. El-Saedi has helped make this orchestra a wonderful, probing ensemble. They were not to be dismissed so lightly; they were too good, and so we were not spared the splendid bravery of their attack. What a Don Juan we could have had, but the hero was on the wrong line.

We passed through the lagoons of the Don's love life, though it was too late for love. He had been shoved into the wrong bath from the start. This aloof, haughty being had no place on an ordinary city street --Êhe needed the dangerous dark tunnels experienced by Byron, where boys are devoured for breakfast.

It sort of came to an end suddenly. After a puff and a sigh the Don was done. El-Saedi looked relieved.

The sounds soon moved on to a different level. Saedi's own composition, Taqassim for Clarinet and String Orchestra, with Sherif El-Razzaz, clarinet soloist, came next. This music has been heard before, with a wonderful French player who turned it into a bel canto song. El-Saedi seemed sharp and critical, and as angular with his own music as he had been with Strauss. Why such impatience? Taqassim has some lovely moments. It is well-composed, clearly set out and entirely without pretension.

The first part tests the soloist's technique. It jumps and twists, suggesting a lot of tension, which El-Razzaz played. He has a clear tone and sounded more than adequate at presenting the work's exciting worldly movements.

In the second half, called Andante, the mood changed and song-like tunes were given with warmth. We had gone from musica mundana to musica humana, the harmony of soul and body. The quiet orchestra made a moving ceremony of this conclusion to the piece. El-Saedi had found rest.

The intermission gave time for thought. What would we be hearing in Rimsky Korsakov's much played, almost too-pop piece, Scheherezade.

It changed Europe when the Russian Ballet first unleashed it in Paris. The public was subjected to the electric shocks of Nijinsky and Karsavina, who danced before the splendours of Bakst's decor and made theatrical history. The music was soon swallowed by legend and sheer sex appeal, a mix never before seen in the ballet. It still retains all its former allure. What would El-Saedi do with the climaxes and erotic tunes that fly through the air?

With the help of a great violinist, Krassen Penev, he did exactly as the music dictated, and we were given a triumph. It was the old El-Saedi, in form again, a giver of joy and thrills rather than the monolith of the baton we had seen in the Strauss. He was aided and abetted by some of the most exciting playing the Cairo Symphony Orchestra has ever given. A world class performance, devoid of noise or rant.

Each movement of the six was different, but folded neatly into the symphonic pattern. As well as glamour, we were shown the narrative of the mythic tales with an ease and simplicity that were quite breathtaking.

El-Saedi gave us the drama of a great teller of tales. The orchestra was the voice; he, the man of magic with the stick, and the music was fresh, which is a feat considering its over-familiarity. He promulgates the possible. It is a pleasure to watch his battle with the music elite, who don't really want much but security.

As this performance of Scheherezade shows, El-Saedi is a foot slogger. He has given Cairo an orchestra, an audience, and a repertoire. There are those who shiver at his often brutal management methods, but these bring good results.

If the Cairo Opera really had its onions in the right place, they would cut the cackle and offer El-Saedi the musical direction of Tchaikovsky's opera Picque Dame , with a real producer -- Harry Kupper or Goetz Friederick -- and a local cast, including Nabila Erian as the countess, the ancient Pique Dame herself. With some slogging at the marketing instead of talk, Cairo would have a real opera in the right place instead of the one-act bits of camp we are fobbed off with. If the Opera can be made to bend slightly in the direction of real opera, it might find it has more supporters than it imagines.

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