JDMcDsblog

At the very end of last night’s opening concert, a performance of The Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny, in the Usher Hall, the full force and power of chorus and orchestra were unleashed by conductor HK Gruber as the ensemble reprised the main tunes before culminating in a series of hammered repetitions that brought out the percussive aggression of the music. I was prompted to think of other dramatic endings- Till Eulenspiegel on the scaffold, Strauss’ Electra and even the calamitous conclusion to Act 1 of Turandot, all of which quicken the pulse. The exciting climax certainly drew loud applause and cheers, but perhaps also a sense of achievement that comes at the end of a long journey. It felt that these last 10 minutes somehow made the whole night worthwhile and put to flight some of the nagging doubts I had felt earlier on.

For there had been moments when the attention sagged, when nothing much seemed to happen, and there was a want of pace. Perhaps it was always going to be difficult to convey effectively the Brechtian ideals of decadence, corruption and excess from behind a music stand. One missed the German gutturals, so apt for this cabaret-opera style. For strangers to the piece there was a full libretto, but I felt the audience became so intent on following the words, there were long spells when the singers were performing to the tops of heads immersed in programmes. Indeed at one, quiet point, there was a tutti rustling effect as the entire audience, as one, turned over the page. I felt then that the audience and cast were embarking on two separate journeys and it was to be a while before they met up.

Yet there were high points, too; the stage presence and lyricism of American tenor Anthony Dean Griffey, playing protagonist Jimmy Mahonney, and some comic business from Peter Hoare as Jack Smith showed how  some action can point up the drama. The Alabama Song seemed a little restrained but perhaps I expected too much of what is effectively the opera’s signature tune. The RSNO, under Gruber’s generally crisp and always energetic conducting brought out Weil’s full bodied and eclectic orchestral writing while the men’s chorus was disciplined and in good voice. Hannah Gordon narrated with style, no more so than when using a megaphone to announce in deadpan voice the deliverance of the city from the expected hurricane.  There was the trademark bandoneon and strumming banjo, and a marvellous piece of quasi rhapsodic writing for Pianola, comic and ironic, perhaps but beautifully played. “That’s what I call eternal art” says Jack. Well, maybe not eternal, but an exciting night and a bold stroke which sets the scene for a Festival that focuses on artists without borders.