Last but not least
The wrong Strauss hardly tarnished the music, writes Amal Choucri Catta
Gala Concert, Cairo Opera Orchestra; cond. Thomas Kalb; soloist Mona Rafla, soprano. Main Hall, Cairo Opera House, 9 January 8pm
Last week offered three more or less interesting concerts. On Friday Ahmed El-Saedi, former chief conductor of Cairo Symphony Orchestra, presented his new ensemble at a concert in AUC's Ewart Memorial Hall, performing works by Mozart. The following day the Cairo Symphony, under El-Saedi's successor, Sergio Cardenas, presented Mozart's symphony KV 319 and the Concerto for Clarinet KV 622, with Mohamed Hamdy as soloist. The second part of the concert was taken up with Rimsky- Korsakov's Sheherazad, already performed last November by the Cairo Opera Orchestra, an overdose, perhaps, of the One Thousand and One Nights. But the third, and undoubtedly the most interesting of the three concerts, was Friday's Gala performance by Cairo Opera Orchestra, under Thomas Kalb, with soprano Mona Rafla as soloist.
The concert received sloppy billing, with the pre- publicity unforgiveably confusing Johann with Richard Strauss. An example, once again, of sheer incompetence.
The Gala Concert in the Main Hall, under the baton of German Thomas Kalb, opened with three works by Richard Wagner: the prelude to The Mastersingers of Nuremberg, followed by the overture to The Flying Dutchman and the overture to Tannhauser. The Prelude to The Mastersingers predates the opera itself: it opens with a grand march evoking the medieval Guild of the Mastersingers, the focal point of the opera. A brief lyrical sequence leads to a second march, followed by Walther's great love theme. The climax is a combination of several musical sequences, culminating in the mastersingers' final statement: their purpose being to preserve German song. The prelude is a great piece of music: beautifully performed, it opened the concert with panache.
Next came the overture to The Flying Dutchman, Wagner's opera in one and then three acts. A thrilling evocation of hurricanes and stormy seas, with the phantom ship condemned to sail until the Dutchman's redemption by a faithful woman: every seven years he is allowed ashore. Driven by storms to a Norwegian harbour, he meets Daland and his daughter Senta who, singing the Ballad of the Flying Dutchman, finally redeems him. The obscure tunes of the cursed seaman, followed by the translucent melody of Senta's transfiguring love theme, echoed breathtakingly in the silent hall.
We were not through with Wagner yet. The third and last piece of the concert's first part was the overture to Tannhauser, the story of the young knight torn between the sinful pleasures offered him by the goddess Venus and the radiant purity of Elisabeth, lady of the castle. Opening with the lofty pilgrim's chorus, the overture succumbs to Venus' charms before reechoing the praise of God. Life and death, iniquity and purity were managed equally well by the orchestra.
Richard Strauss' Four Last Songs opened the concert's second part: composed in 1948 and premiered in 1950 at London's Royal Albert Hall, with soprano Kirsten Flagstad and the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Wilhelm Furtwangler, the four songs were inspired by a poem, At Dusk, by Joseph Eichendorff, and by a series of poems by Hermann Hesse: Springtime, September and At Bedtime. The same musical mood prevails in all four, starting with Springtime and closing with At Dusk. They are the songs of an old man, meditating over a brilliant career crowned with honours yet nevertheless shattered by the realisation that his century has shattered all spiritual values. The music is at once sublime and lugubrious.
The songs, composed for soprano and orchestra, are a homage to the female voice. The lyrical opulence of Springtime, the horn's miraculous intervention in September and the angelic second theme of At Bedtime, repeated in the lovely violin solo, and then the thrilling flute of At Dusk are witness to Strauss' exceptional genius. The songs were beautifully interpreted by Mona Rafla. Her limpid soprano has seldom failed to delight audiences, and tonight she was obviously enjoying herself.
"Can this be death?" are the last words of At Dusk. The opening of a fifth song was discovered on Strauss's desk after his death at 75.
The concert ended with Strauss' tone poem, Opus 28, Till Eulenspiegels Lustige Streiche, for grand orchestra, with almost twice the usual number of brass and a large percussion section. Till is the hero of German medieval folk-tales. A legendary prankster, a clown and trouble- maker, he is closely related to Norway's Peer Gynt. The entire tone-poem is based on Till's character, represented in two main themes. Cast as an extended free rondo, the poem begins with a musical "once upon a time", continued in colourful tunes by the violins, the horns, the clarinet and by a comic, syncopated theme sounding like musical laughter. Till's many pranks reach a grand climax when the drums suddenly announce the gallows. The hangman's sombre fanfare and Till's second theme start a dialogue in favour of Till, who cannot be saved. The shrill clarinet announces the hero's end, while the once upon a time theme reappears. A spirit like Till's cannot be destroyed.
The orchestra was in vivacious mood. The conductor, no newcomer to Cairo's symphonists, balanced the drama with gentleness and sensitivity. His conducting was precise and at the same time brilliantly seductive. The concert came to a triumphant close.
