The Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols

For many people in Great Britain and elsewhere, Christmas really begins at 3pm on Christmas Eve with the BBC’s live radio broadcast of the Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols from the magnificent chapel of King’s College, Cambridge.  For about an hour and a half, the chapel choir sings carols old and new, interspersed with Bible readings that tell the Christmas story.

The tradition dates back to 1918 when the College Dean, Rev Eric Milner-White, first modified an idea that originated in 1880 at Truro Cathedral. The format has been virtually unchanged since the 1919 service, when the order of lessons was established, as well as the custom of beginning with “Once in Royal David’s City” with the first verse sung by an unaccompanied boy treble.

The Festival was first broadcast by the BBC in 1928 and it has been heard every year since then, with only one exception (1930). Even during the war years, when the stained glass windows had been removed from the unheated chapel, listeners to the BBC and its World Service were able to hear the Festival.

Many great ideas are simple ones, and the “Nine Lessons” format is one such idea. It has therefore been copied in churches of all denominations throughout the Christian world, with many such services being held at Christmas time, the chosen carols being ones that suit particular choirs and congregations. It is an occasion on which a church or cathedral choir can show off its skills, and many choirmasters work long and hard to achieve perfection on the day, especially when introducing carols that may be new to the choir in question.

The nine lessons, at King’s College and elsewhere, are each read by different people, including lay people and clergy. It is traditional for the first lesson to be read by a young person, such as a treble from the choir, and for the ninth to be read by the priest or minister in charge, with the congregation standing.

Each lesson is introduced by a standard line (the first being “God announces in the Garden of Eden that the seed of woman shall bruise the serpent’s head”) and concluded with “Thanks be to God”.

Although the first three lessons and the last three are virtually sacrosanct, for the middle three there are alternative readings that can be given. For example, the Annunciation (from Luke’s Gospel) can be substituted by “Arise, shine, for thy light is come” from the Book of Isaiah. The readings are always from the 1611 Authorised (or “King James”) Bible.

The purpose of the lessons is not only to tell the familiar story of the Nativity from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, but to set it in its full context, beginning with the Fall of Man in Genesis and including the prophecies of Isaiah that foretell the coming of the Messiah. The ninth lesson is always the opening of the Gospel of John that explains how “In the beginning was the Word” and “the Word was made flesh”.

As mentioned above, the service begins with “Once in Royal David’s City” that (at King’s College and elsewhere) is used as a processional hymn, begun in candlelight, as the voice of the boy treble breaks the silence. It is traditional at King’s for the boy chosen to sing the opening verse not to be told this until shortly before the service, so that he does not become unduly nervous.

The rest of the opening hymn is sung by the full choir and congregation, at the conclusion of which the Bidding Prayer is given, followed by the Lord’s Prayer, after which the first choir carol is sung.

It should be pointed out that “Nine” refers to the lessons and not the carols, of which somewhat more than nine can be expected. At King’s College it is usual for there to be one carol before the first lesson and two between each of the next lessons, with “O Come All Ye Faithful” following the ninth lesson and “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” concluding the service after the final Collect and Blessing. At least two of the carols will in fact be hymns for the full congregation to sing, as well as the two final hymns mentioned above.

The carols are usually a good mixture of traditional ones and those that are less familiar, and it has been customary at King’s College to include a completely new carol that has been specially commissioned.  These brand new carols are often challenging for both the choir and listeners, and it has to be said that many are heard once during the service and almost never again!

The Director of Music at King’s College from 1982 to 2018 was Stephen Cleobury, who arranged a number of traditional carols for performance at the Festival. Other arrangements have been by David Willcocks, who held the Director of Music post from 1957 to 1974. These two master musicians have ensured that the music heard at the Festival is ideally suited to both the choir and the remarkable acoustics of the Chapel.

The Christmas Eve Festival at King’s College is extremely popular with the local population in Cambridge, and people have been known to camp overnight in hope of getting one of the 650 seats in the Chapel, which are always allocated on the basis of first come, first served.

As well as the Christmas Eve broadcast, which is recorded and repeated on Christmas Day and on other networks, including in the United States, a televised programme called “Carols from King’s” is recorded earlier in December and broadcast on BBC 2, but this is not the full “Nine Lessons and Carols”.

The tradition of presenting the Christmas story in this format has now become deeply entrenched among choirs and churches all over the world, and looks set to continue for many years into the future.

© John Welford 

Some classic Christmas carols

It is essential to define what is meant by a Christmas carol, because the term has been misused so often that virtually any piece of sung music associated with Christmas could be called a carol.

A carol must be religious in content, and celebratory. It is also usually joyful in tone, although this is not always the case (e.g. the Coventry Carol below). It has become common practice for any hymn sung at Christmas time to be called a carol, but that is not particularly appropriate, as a hymn is defined as being suitable for singing by a congregation in church, and that is certainly not true of all carols.

If we take the term “carol” to exclude all non-religious Christmas songs, as well as all hymns that are designed primarily for congregational singing, there are still many “classic” carols that choirs will sing at Christmas, as will carol-singers going from door to door. Here are a few examples:

The Coventry Carol

This dates from the 15^th century and was part of the Coventry cycle of mystery plays . A series of short plays on Biblical themes, each presented by a merchant’s guild or other local group, would be performed in sequence to the townspeople, possibly staged on wagons that would be drawn from place to place so that the audience would see each play as it came along and the actors would give as many performances as there were places where the audiences had gathered.

Only two Coventry plays have survived, one being the Nativity play of the Shearmen and Tailors, of which the carol was part. It concerns the “Massacre of the Innocents” by the soldiers of King Herod after the birth of Jesus. The carol is sung by the women of Bethlehem in the play, just before the soldiers enter. It is partly a lullaby, with the refrain “Lully lulla, thou little tiny child, by by lully lullay” and partly a lament for the children who are about to die: “That woe is me, Poor child for thee!” It can therefore be seen as foreseeing the death of Christ as well as celebrating his birth and commenting on the immediate event of the massacre.

The tune normally sung to the carol is based on one that dates back to 1591.

We Wish You a Merry Christmas

This is the carol most often performed on British doorsteps! It is a traditional carol from the West of England, and it breaks the rule about carols being religious, because it quite plainly is not. Most modern carol singers get as far as “Good tidings we bring , to you and your kin, We wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year” and then bash on the door to demand money. However, the full version is an extended threat, with “figgy pudding” being very much on the carollers’ minds.

Having sung “Now bring us some figgy pudding, And bring some out here” in the second verse, and explaining that “We all like figgy pudding” in the third, the singers make their demand explicit in the final verse with the rousing chorus of “We won’t go till we’ve got some, So bring some out here!”

The Sussex Carol

This carol appears to go back to at least the 17^th century, but is known today thanks to the efforts of Cecil Sharp and Ralph Vaughan Williams, who were both interested in collecting English folk songs that they heard sung by rural villagers in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries. Cecil Sharp collected this carol from Gloucestershire, but Vaughan Williams heard it sung in a village near Horsham in Sussex, which is why it has the title of the Sussex Carol. Vaughan Williams included it in his “Fantasia on Christmas Carols” which was first performed at the Three Choirs Festival in 1912, and it was later arranged by David Willcocks for the annual Festival of Nine Lessons and Carols at King’s College, Cambridge, where it is regularly performed to this day.

It is a bright, lively carol that has a simple tune and easily memorised words, beginning: “On Christmas night all Christians sing, To hear the news the angels bring, News of great joy, news of great mirth, News of our merciful King’s birth.” Whatever arrangement is sung, the four short verses, ending with “Glory to God and peace to men, Now and for evermore. Amen” do not take long to sing, but it makes an excellent impression when sung well, and certainly counts as a classic English carol.

The Three Kings

This 19^th century carol has become a “standard” with choirs that boast a decent tenor or baritone soloist. It was composed by Peter Cornelius (1824-74), a German composer of lieder and operas who was a friend of Wagner and Liszt. However, the carol in question is his only piece that is heard regularly today, in translation and usually in the arrangement by Ivor Atkins.

The most unusual feature of the carol, which, not surprisingly, tells the story of the visit of the Magi to the birthplace of Jesus at Bethlehem, is the fact that you get two carols for the price of one. The soloist sings two verses to the same tune, giving the basic story, followed by an extended conclusion, to a different tune and with varied rhythm, that exhorts the hearer to also travel with the Kings and “offer thy heart”.

However, at the same time that the soloist is singing the above, a four-part choir sings a stately chorale to a different tune and with different words. Their carol begins “How brightly shines the morning star, With grace and truth from heaven afar” and ends with “Inly feeds us, rightly leads us, life bestowing. Praise, o praise such love o’erflowing”. It therefore complements the words being sung by the soloist as well as dovetailing perfectly with the music as a piece of counterpoint to a different rhythm.

As described, it may sound as though it would be difficult for an average church choir to perform, but that is not the case. As long as everyone keeps the beat perfectly, and the dynamics of the choir do not overpower the soloist, who should stand at some distance from the choir, it should work very well. When sung as intended, The Three Kings is extremely effective.

Ding Dong Merrily on High

This carol ticks all the boxes as a classic carol, and is part of the Christmas repertoire of just about every church choir.

The words are by George Ratcliffe Woodward (1848-1934), an Anglican priest who had a passion for bell-ringing as well as poetry.  He had a very good ear for music and sometimes produced tunes for his own words, but more often left this to his younger friend, the Irish composer Charles Wood (1866-1926). They collaborated on a number of carols, for all seasons, and produced three books of them. Wood often adapted traditional tunes for use as carols, and the tune of “Ding Dong Merrily” is one such, having been a 16^th century French tune.

It is a carol all about bells, comprising three short verses and a “peal” of a chorus to the words “Gloria, Hosanna in excelsis” with the different voices tumbling over each other just as church bells would do. The chorus is repeated, being sung once fortissimo and once piano; the dynamics are reversed for the final chorus so that the carol ends on a blast of sound.

There is no Christmas carol that is brighter or more joyful, making “Ding Dong Merrily” about as classic as you can get!

© John Welford

The British National Anthem

The British national anthem was the first in the world to be adopted as such, with every other country in the world subsequently following suit, sometimes even using the same tune. Like many British institutions it was a matter of evolution rather than deliberate creation, coming about almost by accident.

  

The historical background

It was first heard in anything like its current form in September 1745 at Drury Lane Theatre in London, where it was enthusiastically received and encored several times. Its use then spread to other theatres and was soon used on occasions when the King was present or some expression of patriotism was called for.

These were troublesome times. The British monarchy, under King George II, was threatened by an uprising led by “Bonnie Prince Charlie”, the grandson of King James II who had been deposed in 1688. Although King George was not universally popular and was himself a foreigner in the eyes of most of his British subjects, the prospect of a revolution led by a Catholic prince was even less welcome, and the English (as opposed to the Scottish) people were keen to rally behind their Hanoverian king.

At the time of the first performance of “God Save the King”, Charles Edward Stuart’s army of Highlanders had reached Edinburgh and was gathering support as it prepared to venture south into England. It was to advance as far as Derby, in the English Midlands, by early December, but then turned back when the “Young Pretender’s” supporters got cold feet.

The patriotic song was therefore written at a time of great national distress, with its words focussed on the person of the King who stood in opposition to the threat from the North. The author of the words is unknown, as is the composer of the tune, although it is possible that Dr Thomas Arne arranged it for its original performance. Neither the words nor the music were completely original, and there is evidence that versions of both were in use long before 1745. One ironic possibility, given its use in 1745, is that the tune was based on an old Scottish carol.

The text

The original first verse was as follows:

God save our noble King!

God save Great George our King!

God save the King!

Send him victorious,

Happy and glorious,

Long to reign over us,

God save the King.

(The first two lines have since been changed to meet later circumstances, to:

           

God save our gracious King/Queen

            Long live our noble King/Queen)

Some of the words, including “God save the King” and “long to reign over us” can be traced back to common use in the 16^th century, and versions of the song had also been sung in praise of previous monarchs, including James II. The 1745 version, however, had a specific aim in mind, which was to offer a prayer for the safety of the King, and hence the nation, from a very present threat.

An ironic anthem

It is somewhat ironic that this should have become the national anthem of the whole of Great Britain, which it did from the early 1800s as a matter of general acceptance rather than as the result of any decree or law. The irony lies in the fact that it was written to support one side of what was, in effect, a civil war. Indeed, as new verses were written to supplement the original one, some were so partisan and specific as to be completely unacceptable within a British anthem. For example:

Lord, grant that Marshal Wade,

May by thy mighty aid,

Victory bring.

May he sedition hush,

and like a torrent rush,

Rebellious Scots to crush,

God save the King.

Needless to say, this verse is not used today, even in the fullest version of the anthem, and it was never part of the “official” version. Even so, the anthem is much less popular in the non-English parts of Great Britain, with the Welsh and Scots being content to express their Welshness and Scottishness with their own anthems.

The saving grace of “God Save the Queen” (which it has been since 1952 and was also during the reign of Queen Victoria) as a national anthem for the whole country is that it is a prayer for the safety of the monarch and makes no mention of the country in any of the verses. It can therefore be sung in any part of the country that recognises the Queen as monarch, and that is something that also applies to countries of the British Commonwealth that are independent but still regard the Queen as their figurative head of government.

Some strange features of the National Anthem

As mentioned above, Wales and Scotland have their own anthems, which are used at such events as sporting events between the individual countries of Great Britain, but England as such does not have one, leading to the somewhat bizarre consequence of England teams having to use the national anthem for the whole country when playing other parts of the same country!

It is usual for only one verse of God Save the Queen to be played, but when an extended version is required the third “official” verse is commonly preferred to the second, which includes the lines:

Scatter her enemies

And make them fall.

Confound their politics

Frustrate their knavish tricks

The preferred third verse is much more politically correct:

Thy choicest gifts in store

On her be pleased to pour

Long may she reign.

May she defend our laws

And ever give us cause

To sing with heart and voice,

God Save the Queen.

 The British national anthem is unusual in being neither a paean of praise about the country in question nor, in its current version, a reference to military power, with the sole exception of the line “Send her victorious”. It could be said that it is only a national anthem because the monarch is the titular head of the nation; should the country ever become a republic the national anthem would clearly have to be changed.

It is also of interest that the tune used for God Save the Queen is by no means limited to the United Kingdom. Americans will recognise it as “My Country Tis of Thee” and it is still used for the national anthem of Liechtenstein (Switzerland also used the tune until 1961). On the rare occasions when an English football team plays Liechtenstein, the same tune is played twice!

Another odd feature of this national anthem is that the head of state never sings it. On occasions when the Queen is present everyone will stand to attention (no heart-crossing here!) and sing the anthem, including other members of the royal family, but the Queen herself stays tight-lipped and silent. Given the lyrics, how could she do otherwise?

Whether the citizens of Great Britain and Northern Ireland like it or not, they are probably stuck with God Save the Queen for the foreseeable future, the only likely change being the switch back to “King” when the next monarch takes over.

© John Welford

A beginner's guide to opera

Here’s a good tip to begin with. If you have never been to an opera performance before, don’t start with Wagner’s Ring Cycle! At a total stage time of 15 hours, plus intermissions, that represents a major commitment not only of your time but your concentration, not to mention the possession of excellent bladder control. Wagner is not to everyone’s taste and, as Rossini once famously remarked, he has some sublime moments but also some terrible quarters of an hour.

Indeed, the best introduction to opera is probably not to attend a performance at all but to listen to CDs or downloads of great performances. Some of the most sublime music of all time comes from opera, such as the Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves from Verdi’s Nabucco, the aria Nesun Dorma from Puccini’s Turandot or the duet Au Fond du Temple Saint from Bizet’s The Pearl Fishers. All of these are instantly recognisable and greatly loved.

However, attenders of opera performances are often disappointed to discover that numbers such as these are only small sections of considerably longer works that are much less tuneful or interesting. The Pearl Fishers is a case in point; without that one duet the opera would rarely get staged, as its plot is particularly feeble and the rest of the music of much lower quality.

On the other hand, Bizet’s Carmen is full of musical life and invention, as well as erotic intensity and violence. One’s attention is unlikely to flag and, for the raw beginner, a ticket to Carmen would be well worth the money. The opera has, indeed, much in common with the modern musical, and the progression between Carmen and, say, Bernstein’s West Side Story is not difficult to detect, although the latter had Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet as its inspiration.

Opera is a musical form with a very long history, and there is a world of difference between the operas of Handel, Puccini and Benjamin Britten, for example.

Early opera

Early operas were relatively short and consisted of a set of arias (solos), duets and ensemble pieces strung together with passages of “recitative”, by which is meant text sung in a speech rhythm with little attempt at melody. These passages are only there to hold the plot together and provide links between the more melodic elements, but they can be lengthy and, for the beginner, are more likely to be endured than enjoyed. Recitative is also a feature of operas of much later periods.

Most early operas made little attempt to convey dramatic realism, with the performers being required to sing rather than act. The same could also be said of many later operas! If you want to see great acting, the theatre is often a more promising venue than the opera house.

That said, many great operas are also great dramas, and audiences are often spellbound at performances of Tosca or Madame Butterfly, where Puccini’s music has a dramatic intensity that demands a certain amount of acting talent from the performers.

The language problem

One aspect of opera that can be off-putting for the beginner is the fact that relatively few great operas were written in English. Italian is the language of choice for opera libretti. This might have been expected with those by Verdi, Donizetti and Puccini, but the operas of Handel and Mozart, for example, were also written to be sung in Italian. If you do not understand Italian (or German or French, etc) the great European operas might be thought to be unintelligible, but this is not necessarily the case.

For one thing, the drama is often conveyed via actions as well as words. This is a good reason for seeing an opera live as opposed to hearing a recording, much as viewing a ballet makes more sense than listening to it if one wants to know what is going on.

Another point to make is that operas can be regarded as music first and drama second. In other words one goes to an opera for a musical experience rather than to see a play. This is, however, a debatable point.

Many modern opera houses have got round the language problem by displaying translated “surtitles” on a screen above the stage. This has been a controversial move in some quarters, with many people regarding the constantly moving words as an unwelcome distraction. Others regard this as preferable to performing operas in English translation, as the translations do not always match the music as perfectly as the original. It is also the case that many opera singers are better at singing notes than words and it is often difficult to make out what they are singing, whatever the language!

Strange plots

Another aspect of opera to bear in mind is that the plots are sometimes strange in the extreme. Characters are able to fall into the most remarkable predicaments for very peculiar reasons, and likewise escape from them in ways that don’t seem to make a lot of sense. Audiences are required to suspend their disbelief to very great measure, such as when a clearly very healthy and well-built soprano is starving in a garret and dying of tuberculosis in La Boheme, or the Rhine Maidens in Das Rheingold are able to sing when at the bottom of the river!

What to see?

So, what would be a good introductory opera for a beginner to see on stage? Several have already been mentioned, but a good tip might be to go for something shorter rather than longer. The operas of Mozart are a good bet, partly because the music is always a delight, and you can’t have too much Mozart! A performance of The Marriage of Figaro, for example, is worth considering, as is the charming and tuneful Cosi Fan Tutte.

These two operas fall into the category of “opera buffa” or comic opera, as opposed to “opera seria”. The beginner might indeed prefer to start with comedy, as the onstage antics, involving such things as characters assuming disguises or seeking to perform practical jokes on each other, will entertain even if the music does not.

The world of the comic opera can play to very different rules from that of “grand opera”. For one thing, amateur opera companies are far more likely to tackle the works of Gilbert and Sullivan or Offenbach than they are Verdi or Wagner! Amateur performances have the huge advantage of considerably cheaper ticket prices than those of the top professional companies, whose productions can be prohibitively expensive for most people.

That said, a night at the opera at one of the world’s great opera houses is certainly a night to remember. People make a real effort to dress in their finery, possibly combining the event with dinner at a top restaurant. Audience members can usually be assured of a brilliant evening’s entertainment, especially if the company on stage includes some of the world’s great operatic stars.

Whatever the choice, listening to opera, and seeing it on stage, can be an extremely rewarding and memorable experience. A little homework done in advance into the plot might be a good idea, though.

© John Welford

Women in The Pirates of Penzance, by Gilbert and Sullivan

The female characters in the Savoy operas of Gilbert and Sullivan fall into three groups. There is a female chorus, the composition of which may or may not be believable; there is the female love interest, sung by a soprano; and there is an older woman, sung by a contralto. There are usually other female “semi-principals” who may be friends or close relations of the female lead; and occasionally there is a minor role for another contralto, this normally being played by a chorus member for a single scene.

Ladies of the Chorus

The Pirates of Penzance fits this pattern as neatly as any of the Savoy operas. The nature of the chorus is as absurd as one could wish, as all the women (there are supposed to be 24 of them) are the daughters of Major-General Stanley. Given that in most productions the chorus members all appear to be of roughly the same age, as is desired by the plot, the audience must start to wonder at the prevalence of multiple births in 19^th century Cornwall!

The chorus in G&S does not just comment on proceedings but has an integral part to play in the plot. This is certainly the case in “Pirates”, where the whole action devolves on the seizing by force of the female chorus by the male chorus (the pirates) in Act I and their rescue by the chorus basses (the policemen) in Act II.

One of the best comic scenes in the opera involves the interplay of the daughters and the policemen in Act II when the former persuade the latter to go and fight the pirates. The girls are convinced that nothing is more glorious than meeting one’s death fighting a terrible foe, and the policemen will live forever in their hearts should this happen, but the policemen would much prefer to carry on living in the real world for as long as possible!

The daughters are also essential to the plot because of their beauty. They have to present an obvious contrast to the older woman character, Ruth, so that the joke can be made about Ruth persuading the male lead, Frederic, that she is beautiful, simply because she is the only woman that Frederic has ever seen.

Mabel

Mabel is the principal daughter, supported by three semi-principals in Edith, Kate and Isabel. Mabel is one of the most difficult roles to cast in any production of Pirates, mainly because it is essential that she can carry off one of the most beautiful but difficult numbers in all of G&S, namely “Poor wandering one”.

It is with this song that she is introduced to the opera. Frederic, the apprentice pirate, has called on the chorus of beautiful maidens to say if there is not just one of them who could love somebody like him, and it is Mabel who responds to the call. 

Were we to attempt to analyse the motivations of the characters in terms of normal behaviour, we could only condemn Mabel as being revoltingly forward in offering herself to a man whom she has never seen before, although she does lay down a few conditions, namely that he must forswear his previous life of evil. Even so, we need to apply a considerable “suspension of disbelief” before this makes sense to us. On the other hand, if we can believe that Major-General Stanley has all those daughters of marriageable age …

Mabel is a typical Gilbertian heroine in that she is not only beautiful but resilient, with a mind of her own. She is not there just as the girl to be got by the guy. She is the one who is not afraid to stand out from the crowd, and she also shows courage when the pirates seize the daughters, warning them that their father is a major-general. In Act II she steels herself to the prospect of a long separation from Frederic (some 79 years in fact), and also takes the lead in sending the policemen off to do battle.

Ruth

The other main female character in “Pirates” is Ruth, the “pirate maid-of-all-work”, without whose initial mistake, many years ago, none of this would have happened. To modern sensibilities, this older woman role in G&S is somewhat embarrassing. Gilbert intends us to laugh at these old maids who are clearly past their prime but in whom there is still a strong sexual desire. Of course, we are supposed to think, you cannot be satisfied in love, the reason being that you are too old. You, whatever role you play, must make do with the worst outcome in love, and we will make fun of you for your presumption. Hence we have Katisha (“The Mikado”) Little Buttercup (“Pinafore”) and the Fairie Queen (“Iolanthe”) among others.

Ruth’s mistake was to be hard of hearing, even in her youth, and to have apprenticed young Frederic, at the age of eight, to a pirate instead of a pilot. Gilbert likes us to laugh at physical infirmities as well as increasing female age. A point is also made about Ruth’s loss of physical attractiveness, as Frederic exclaims in disgust that she is not at all beautiful in contrast to Mabel and her sisters.

However, there is more to Ruth than an embittered old maid (a la Katisha) and she emerges as one of the strongest characters in the opera. It is she (along with the Pirate King) who points out to Frederic that his apprenticeship is far from over, due to his having been born on 29^th February in a leap year, and that his 21^st birthday is therefore many years away. Having been his nursemaid all his life, she is the only person who would have known that fact.

It is also Ruth who delivers the final piece of Gilbertian “business”, namely that the pirates are all “noblemen who have gone wrong”, and therefore, as peers of the realm, are fully qualified to marry the daughters of Major-General Stanley. We can assume that Ruth ends up married to the Pirate King, although this is not actually stated.

Better characters than the men?

Although there are not many named women characters in the opera, their roles are essential to the plot. The male characters are a pretty insipid lot when it comes to taking action, with the possible exception of the Pirate King, and even he needs Ruth as his lieutenant. The Major-General fears for his life, the police sergeant is a coward, and Frederic is such a “slave to duty” (which is the subtitle of the opera) that he can take no action on his own initiative. The roles of the female characters are therefore central to “Pirates”, giving huge potential to women actors to have a great time playing the parts in question.

© John Welford

Thomas Arne, English composer

Thomas Arne was at one time regarded as second only to Handel among English composers (if Handel’s German birth is disregarded). However, he is only remembered today for one relatively short piece that was the finale of a much longer work that is now ignored.

Thomas Augustine Arne was born on 12^th March 1710, the son of a successful upholsterer in London’s Covent Garden. Thomas was educated at Eton and intended by his father for a career in law. However, Thomas was far more interested in music and the theatre, and secretly practiced on the spinet (a variety of harpsichord) in his bedroom, muffling the strings to escape parental detection when he should have been concentrating on his law books.

He also became proficient on the violin and led a small chamber band, again without his father’s knowledge. When his father eventually found out he was forgiven because he played so well.

Thomas must have been disconcerted by the fact that his sister Susanna was able to have a stage career as a noted contralto. However, this was the key to opening his own association with the theatre because he felt inspired to compose music for the stage after Susanna’s success in an opera in 1732.

His first operas were clearly well received, because he went on to write music to accompany a performance of Milton’s masque “Comus” in 1740. This was followed in the same year by “Alfred”, a masque written to celebrate the Royal House of Hanover and performed for the Prince of Wales at Cliveden, the Prince’s country residence. Frederick Prince of Wales was the eldest son of King George II and the father of the future King George III. He was a noted patron of the arts and Thomas Arne became his favourite composer.

The best remembered part of “Alfred” was the finale, which set the words of “Rule Britannia” (by James Thomson) to the tune that is still sung to this day every year at the Last Night of the Proms. Indeed, were it not for that particular piece of patriotic enthusiasm it is probable that the name of Thomas Arne would not be remembered at all.

Arne spent some time in Dublin during the 1750s and 1760s, a period that is notable for the oratorio “Abel” and the fact that he returned from his second visit after separating from his second wife, whom he left behind in Ireland.

One of Arne’s innovations was to present operas in the Italian style, with sung recitative instead of spoken dialogue. This proved to be a success, but his experiment of presenting operas in the original Italian of their source texts did not prove popular.

Apart from operas and oratorios, Arne wrote a large amount of incidental music, including noted settings of Shakespeare songs, catches, glees and instrumental pieces.

Thomas Arne died on 8th March 1778 at the age of nearly 68.

© John Welford

Romantic and classical ballet

The ballet as known today was a development from the entertainments devised for the court of King Louis XIV of France in the 17^th and 18^th centuries. These involved a range of skills, including dance, mime and music, performed by heavily costumed dancers. Over time, the costumes became less cumbersome and the movements defined and codified, so that by the early 19^th century ballets were being performed that would be recognised as such today.

Romantic ballet can be defined as that of early 19^th century Europe, whereas classical ballet was the art of late 19^th century Russia. A number of composers wrote music specifically intended for interpretation as ballets, and some of the more notable works are described below:

La Fille Mal Gardée (or The Wayward Daughter)

Although there was a ballet with this name that originated in 1789, using traditional French folk song melodies, the first modern version was created in 1828 using music taken from works by Rossini and Ferdinand Hérold. A number of other versions subsequently appeared, including an 1864 ballet produced in Berlin to music by Peter Ludwig Hertel.

If there is an “official” modern version it would be that produced by Sir Frederick Ashton for the Royal Ballet in 1960. This used music specially composed by John Lanchbery (1923-2003) that was based on that of Hérold but also incorporated some of the 1789 tunes and one by Hertel (the famous clog dance).

The story is a rustic tale of young people in love who look as though they will be thwarted by the girl’s widowed mother who wants her to marry someone else. After many subterfuges and shenanigans love eventually conquers all.

Giselle

This two-act ballet was first performed in 1841 at the Paris Opera to music by Adolphe Adam (1803-56). This is a tragic tale based on a poem by Heinrich Heine. Giselle is a peasant girl who falls in love with Albert, a handsome count, although she does not know that he is a rich aristocrat who is already promised elsewhere. However, Hilarion, a jealous gamekeeper, reveals the secret and this drives Giselle to madness and death. When Albert and Hilarion visit Giselle’s grave, the Willis, who are the ghosts of brides who died before their wedding day, drive Hilarion into the nearby lake. The ghost of Giselle appears and saves Albert by dancing with him until dawn breaks.

Coppélia

A ballet in three acts first performed at the Paris Opera in 1870 to music by Léo Delibes (1836-91) and inspired by stories by the German writer E T A Hoffmann (1776-1822). The story concerns two lovers, Franz and Swanhilde, and the sinister Dr Coppelius. When Dr Coppelius makes a life-sized wooden dancing doll (Coppélia) it appears so lifelike that Franz falls in love with it. In order to win him back, Swanhilde dresses like the doll and “comes to life” in front of Franz.

Swan Lake

One of Tchaikovsky’s (1840-93) greatest works, he composed the music in 1875-6 in collaboration with the choreographer Julius Reisinger. The four-act ballet was first performed in 1877 at the Bolshoi Theatre, Moscow, and has been staged in various versions ever since. The story concerns Prince Siegfried and a flock of swan maidens who have been enchanted by the evil von Rothbart. They can only resume their human form at night. Siegfried falls in love with Odette, who explains that if he takes her for his wife the spell will be broken. However, when von Rothbart appears to claim her back, Odette points out that if von Rothbart dies, the spell can never be undone.

Siegfried returns to his castle, at which von Rothbart appears in disguise accompanied by his daughter Odile, who is identical to Odette apart from being dressed in black. Siegfried declares his love publicly for the wrong woman and then sees Odette. Realising his mistake he returns to the lake to apologise to Odette, who forgives him. There are various versions of the story of what happens next. One is that Siegfried fights with von Rothbart and tears off one of his wings, thus destroying his power. Another is that Odette is condemned to remain a swan forever, leaving Siegfried to grieve. In yet another possible ending, both von Rothbart and Siegfried drown in the lake.

The Nutcracker

This is probably Tchaikovsky’s most popular ballet, being performed regularly around Christmas time due to its theme. It is also full of wonderful melodies that lend themselves to a variety of exotic scenes. It was first performed in 1892 in St Petersburg.

Klara is given a nutcracker for Christmas.  She falls asleep and dreams that she must defend it against the Mouse King. The nutcracker turns into a handsome prince who takes Klara on a journey to the Kingdom of Sweets where she meets the Sugar Plum Fairy and sweets which perform dances from places such as Arabia and China.

The ballet is pure entertainment that offers no profound message except confirmation of Tchaikovsky’s belief that ballet is “a prettiment of life rather than an interpretation of life”.

Les Sylphides

This is a one-act ballet that was originally choreographed by Michel Fokine to piano music by Frederic Chopin (1810-49), orchestrated by Glazunov. A version of the work was first performed in St Petersburg in 1907, but the one that is usually performed today derives from the 1909 production by the Ballet Russes, under Diaghilev, in Paris. It is a ballet that does not purport to tell a story but merely to bring the various musical cameos to life. Sylphs dressed in white dance in the moonlight in the company of a poet who wears a black top and white tights.

© John Welford

Famous composers of the Romantic Era

The Romantic era in music is generally taken to mean the period from about 1820 to 1920, which was a century during which a massive amount of music in all genres was produced, and it must also represent the greatest concentration of “famous” composers, if by that is meant those whose works are performed regularly today and which are instantly recognisable.

This was an age when composers wrote music that spoke to the heart and used it to express deep feelings and emotions. They were happy to break the rules and to experiment with new forms that might shock but might also strike a chord with their audiences. The audience was also an important factor, in that Romantic music was largely intended to be heard by the general public as opposed to private patrons and small elite audiences.

It is convenient to divide this era into sub-eras, each of which featured a large number of composers, but some stand out more than others.

The classification below relates to the birth dates of the composers rather than their active periods.


Classical/Romantic Transition

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827, German). He is often regarded as the first Romantic composer, with his 9th Symphony (first performed in 1825) fitting the “Romantic” bill as a huge emotional outburst that crossed the boundary between symphony and opera with its 4th movement setting of Schiller’s Ode to Joy for soloists and chorus.

Carl Maria von Weber (1786-1826, German). He is known mostly for his operas, including “Der Freischütz” (first performed in1821) which belongs squarely in the Gothic tradition.

Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868, Italian). He was a prolific writer of operas (including The Barber of Seville) in his youth, but later retired from composing.

Franz Schubert (1797-1828, Austrian). He composed more than 600 songs as well as nine symphonies and a huge amount of chamber and sacred music.

Early Romantic Era

Hector Berlioz (1803-69, French). He ticked all the “Romantic” boxes by writing music for huge orchestral and choral forces, and his programmatic symphonies such as the Symphonie Fantastique, as well as his love of all things Gothic and his turbulent love life.

Felix Mendelssohn (1809-47, German). He is known for his highly expressive symphonies, concertos and overtures, plus a wealth of songs and music for chamber ensembles and solo piano. His “Hebrides Overture” of 1830 (otherwise known as “Fingal’s Cave”) is an early example of a tone poem or symphonic poem.

Frederic Chopin (1810-49, Polish). He never wrote anything that was not intended for the piano, played either as a solo instrument or with other instruments, including two piano concertos. He developed a number of musical forms, including the polonaise, prelude, nocturne and mazurka.

Robert Schumann (1810-56, German). At first he wrote little apart from piano music but later became a prolific composer of songs and other music, including four symphonies. The change was inspired by his love affair with Clara Wieck. He suffered from mental illness later in his life.

Franz Liszt (1811-86, Hungarian). He is best known for his piano works, included transcriptions of orchestral works by other composers. He also wrote symphonic poems, dances (such as his “Hungarian Rhapsodies”) and songs.

Richard Wagner (1813-83, German). He composed little apart from operas, some of which were based on German folklore. Many of these, such as the four-opera Ring Cycle, were large-scale works that demand a great deal from their audiences, hence the comment by Rossini that Wagner had “wonderful moments but dreadful quarters of an hour”.

Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901, Italian). One of opera’s greatest exponents, his works included many that are performed today, including La Traviata, Rigoletto and Aida. His “Requiem” of 1874 is notable for its highly operatic scoring and orchestration.


Middle Romantic Era

Anton Bruckner (1824-96, Austrian). He is best known for his nine symphonies (plus his “Symphony No. 0”) which are massive in scope and construction. He also wrote some major sacred choral works.

Johann Strauss II (1825-99, Austrian). Known as the “Waltz King”, he was the chief composer of waltzes, polkas and other dance music during the heyday of Vienna as the entertainment capital of Europe. He also composed light operas including Die Fledermaus.

Johannes Brahms (1833-97, German). He was seen at first as the natural successor to Beethoven, with his long-awaited First Symphony being dubbed “Beethoven’s 10th”. His orchestral works included four symphonies and two piano concertos, and he also wrote many songs, much chamber music, and choral masterpieces such as “A German Requiem”.

Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921, French). A composer of symphonies, concertos, operas and chamber music who is best known for a piece he suppressed during his lifetime, namely the humorous and satirical “Carnival of the Animals”.

Max Bruch (1838-1920, German). He is best known for his ever-popular 1st Violin Concerto, which is highly melodic and typifies the Romantic style. He also wrote several other concertos plus four symphonies, songs, chamber music and his often heard “Scottish Fantasy” for violin and orchestra.


Late Romantic Era

Pyotr Tchaikovsky (1840-93, Russian). One of the most melodic of all composers, he wrote six symphonies, three piano concertos, a violin concerto, ten operas, three ballets, and a number of other orchestral works including the “1812 Overture” with cannon fire and church bells.

Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904, Czech). He was greatly influenced by the folk music of his native country, as evidenced by his “Slavonic Dances” of 1878 and 1886. The best known of his nine symphonies was his last, “From the New World”, in which he incorporated American themes and idioms gathered during a three-year stay in the United States.

Edvard Grieg (1843-1907, Norwegian). He is renowned for his Piano Concerto but also for his incidental music to Ibsen’s “Peer Gynt” and his “Holberg Suite”. Folk tunes from Norway pervade his music.

Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908, Russian). He wrote operas and orchestral works, such as the lushly romantic Scheherazade, and edited and completed the works of other Russian composers.

Edward Elgar (1857-1934, British). He could write music that was either lyrical and light, as in most of the “Enigma Variations”, or directly nationalistic, as in his “Pomp and Circumstance Marches”. His best-loved works include the passionate Violin Concerto of 1910 and the elegiac Cello Concerto of 1919.

Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924, Italian). He wrote some of the best-loved operas of all time that are regularly performed worldwide, including Tosca, La Bohème, Madame Butterfly and Turandot.


Transition to the 20th Century

Gustav Mahler (1860-1911, Austrian). He wrote nine completed symphonies, some of which were of large compass and highly experimental, using soloists and choruses as well as unusual orchestrations. He also excelled in song cycles, including the early “Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen” and the late “Das Lied von der Erde”.

Claude Debussy (1862-1918, French). He has been termed an “impressionist” composer, who used both piano and orchestra to evoke mood and colour. Typical pieces are "Prélude à l'après-midi d'un faune", and “La Mer”.

Frederick Delius (1862-1934, British). Although he wrote several operas and much chamber music, he is best known for his evocative orchestral tone poems such as “On Hearing the First Cuckoo in Spring” and “A Song of Summer”.

Jean Sibelius (1865-1957, Finnish). Much of his music was deeply nationalistic in tone, particularly his orchestral overture “Finlandia” and his more lyrical “Karelia Suite”. He wrote seven symphonies and an often-played violin concerto.

Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943, Russian). Often dubbed the last Romantic, two of his four piano concertos (the second and third) are among the most popular ever played. He also composed three symphonies, a set of “Symphonic Dances” and his “Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini” that is a set of variations for piano and orchestra.

Maurice Ravel (1875-1937, French). Like Debussy, he was a musical impressionist, best known for his “Bolero” which consists of an extended theme that is repeated time after time with added orchestration and volume. Other works that are heard regularly include his “Piano Concerto in G”, his “Daphnis and Chloe” ballet suite and his orchestration of Modest Mussorgsky’s “Pictures at an Exhibition”.

As mentioned above, this is only a selection of composers who deserve to be termed “famous” and who fit into the Romantic mould. It would be quite possible to double the number and still leave out some important contributors to the era! It should be safe to say that some 70% of the music played on a popular “classical” music radio station, such as Classic FM in the United Kingdom, was composed during the 100-year period specified above, such is the enduring appeal of the music of the Romantic composers.

© John Welford

The Rite of Spring riot, 1913

How many times have you heard someone say “it was a riot!” when expressing approval of a dramatic or musical performance? Usually they don’t mean it literally, but that was just about a fair description of the first night of Stravinsky’s ballet “The Rite of Spring” when it premiered in Paris on 29^th May 1913.

The Rite of Spring riot

The Rite of Spring was the third ballet that the Russian composer Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) wrote for his fellow Russian, the impresario Sergei Diaghilev (1872-1929). His previous ballets, “The Firebird” (1910) and “Petrushka” (1911) had both been great successes for Diaghilev’s Ballet Russes during their Paris seasons, so there was every reason to expect that The Rite of Spring would be received equally warmly.

However, this turned out to be a huge overestimate of the reaction of the audience at the Théâtre de Champs Elysées. The shouting and screaming started moments after the curtain rose and the music started to play. The ballet had been choreographed by Vaslav Nijinsky, who was reduced to shouting out numbers from the wings, standing on a chair, to tell the dancers what to do because they could not hear the music above the noise from the auditorium.

Not all members of the audience were antagonistic to the performance, and that was part of the trouble. Fights broke out between the “pros” and the “antis” and the police had to be called to separate people who were throwing punches at each other.

Why the riot?

So why did the ballet excite such violent reactions? It was a combination of Stravinsky’s music and Nijinsky’s choreography that that was too much for a section of the Paris audience. The theme of “The Rite”, subtitled “Pictures of Pagan Russia”, was an ancient fertility rite in which a virgin is sacrificed to placate the forces of nature and ensure the return  of spring after a long winter. The music is earthy and sensual, and Nijinsky did everything he could to portray earthiness and sensuality in the movements of the dancers.

The whole thing was highly original, but also shocking for people who were not expecting anything along those lines. If you think that spring is all about cherry blossom and bunny rabbits bouncing through green meadows, then images of orgiastic rites and virgins being sacrificed are quite likely to be upsetting!

The reactions of the people who created the performance were quite revealing. Stravinsky was pleased with how the music was played, although puzzled by what Nijinksky was doing in the wings. He described his reaction to the night as “excited, angry, disgusted and happy”. Diaghilev commented that it was “Exactly what I wanted”, which made Stravinsky wonder if Diaghilev had not foreseen such a reaction from the very beginning of the project.

In all events, The Rite of Spring, which is more often performed these days as an orchestral work than as a ballet, has become a standard “classic” that is highly acclaimed all over the world. It is still a disturbing and no-holds-barred piece of music that hits one in the solar plexus, but audiences no longer feel the urge to pick fights with each other when they hear it!

© John Welford

The Magic Flute, by W A Mozart: a summary of the plot

This was Mozart's final opera, receiving its premiere only three months before his death in December 1791. It is an allegorical fantasy, full of fairy story elements and also references to Freemasonry. Mozart and the librettist, Emanuel Schickaneder, were members of the same Masonic lodge.

The music of the opera is notable both for its extreme difficulty and its simplicity. The librettist was also an amateur singer for whom the part of Papageno was written, so his music is notable for having all the lines stated by the orchestra in advance, so that he could find his pitch. However, the part of the Queen of the Night was sung by a soprano of the highest musical ability, as is evident from her famous aria "Hell's vengeance boils in my heart" which is generally regarded as one of the most difficult in all opera. It was famously mangled by Florence Foster Jenkins (1868-1944), who thought she could sing, but couldn't, which didn't stop her from proving the point to thousands at the Carnegie Hall and elsewhere. 

However, back to the plot. This was originally written in two acts, but the opera has also been performed in four. As it is easier to take it all in as a four-acter, here we go:


Act 1. A Forest. (This is supposed to be Egypt, which is not renowned for the denseness of its forests)

Prince Tamino has lost his way, and is being pursued by a giant serpent (suspend your disbelief NOW!). His cries bring three fairies to his aid, who promptly slay the serpent with their spears. A strange being now enters - a man clad in birds' feathers. This is Papageno, who claims that this is by far the best way to catch birds. He also claims that it was he who slew the serpent. The fairies will have none of this and fasten a padlock on his lips to punish him for telling porkies.

They also show the prince a picture of the beautiful maiden Pamina, who is being held captive by Sarastro at the Temple of Isis. Right on cue, Pamina's mother, the Queen of the Night, enters and calls on Tamino to rescue the girl. As is always the case on these occasions, he agrees, and is given a magic flute that will protect him from danger. Papageno is to accompany him, and he is given a chime of bells in place of the padlock.

Act II. Scene 1. The Palace of Sarastro 

Monastatos, a moor, has been annoying Pamina with his attentions and is about to make off with her when Papageno arrives to announce the coming of the prince. Pamina makes ready to escape with them.


Scene 2. Entrance to the Temple

The Temple of Isis has three doors. At two of them Tamino is denied entry, but at the third a priest appears and tells him that he is all wrong about Sarastro, who is really the good guy; it's Pamina's mother, who is a sorceress, that he should be worried about. Pamina and Papageno now appear, but Monastatos prevents their escape. Sarastro enters, hears the story so far, and orders that Monastatos be punished. He greets Tamino who, naturally enough, has fallen in love with Pamina, but tells him that he must prove his worth by undergoing a series of ordeals.


Act III. Scene 1. A Palm Grove

The temple priests meet to consider the case of the two lovers and agree that they can be united if Tamino passes the tests he is about to face.


Scene 2. A Courtyard

The first ordeal is that neither Tamino nor Papageno must speak. Three attendants of the Queen of the Night appear and try to tempt them, but they hold firm, although this is a struggle for Papageno.


Scene 3. A Garden

Pamina is asleep and is approached by Monastatos, but he hides himself when the Queen of the Night enters and hands Pamina a dagger, which she is commanded to use to kill Sarastro. When the Queen goes, Monastatos threatens Pamina but is foiled when Sarastro appears.


Scene 4. A Corridor in the Temple

The ordeal of silence becomes too much for Papageno, but Tamino stays silent even when Pamina whispers sweet nothings to him. She is somewhat put out when he refuses to reply.


Act IV. Scene 1. The Pyramids

For his next ordeal, the prince is commanded to wander off into the desert, leaving Pamina behind. Papageno wishes that he had a girlfriend too, at which an old hag appears who turns into the young and pretty Papagena. However, he must also prove himself to be worthy before she can be his.


Scene 2. The Desert

Pamina believes that the prince has been faithless to her, by not speaking and then wandering off, and is about to kill herself with her mother's dagger when she is prevented by the temple servants. Papageno is also distraught that Papagena has disappeared, but happiness returns when he discovers that ringing his chime of bells brings her back.


Scene 3. A Fiery Cavern

For the last of his ordeals, Tamino is menaced by waterfalls and tongues of flame, beyond which he can see Pamina. He calls to her, his lips now being unsealed, and the lovers are reunited. A few notes from the flute cause all the remaining dangers to vanish.


Scene 4. The Temple of Isis

Sarastro welcomes the prince and the maiden and joins their hands. Papageno and Papagena also make a lovely couple, while the Queen of the Night and her servant the moor (who would have guessed it?) are vanquished.

© John Welford