Three Cantatas and an Opera

There was quite a bit of music last night and tonight. Yesterday evening, I attended a performance by the Feinstein Ensemble at the Church of St Martin-in-the-Fields at Trafalgar Square. They presented three of J.S. Bach's gorgeous cantatas - Numbers 94, 107 and 78 - and rounded off the evening with his Brandenburg Concerto No. 5. I adore Bach's cantatas, and it was certainly rather atmospheric to hear them being presented by candlelight in the settings of a nice baroque church.

But I can't be too charitable. The performance wasn't exactly staggeringly first class. I don't usually mind period instruments, but I felt the delivery yesternight was rather dry and crusty. The sound wasn't brilliant. One certainly didn't get the sense of being enveloped in the music. I spent much of the evening staring at their lovely lady cellist instead.

The Ensemble did redeem itself - or at least the two singers did - in its rendition of "Wir eilen mit schwachen, doch emsigen Schritten" from Cantata No. 78, "Jesu, der du meine Seele." This is a lovely, lyrical duet for soprano and countertenor, and listening to it, one couldn't help but be moved by how uplifting both the music and message were.

I have to make special mention also of the Brandenburg No. 5 which ended the evening. Some out there may know that this work features the harpsichord in all its glory. And I do have a thing for harpsichord music. The No. 5 has been described as the forerunner of the full-fledged piano concerto that emerged in the 19th century. Unlike the other keyboard concertos of it day, the No. 5 includes a long cadenza in the first movement which someone once called the most exciting five minutes of harpsichord music ever written. I think he's right on mark there.

Then this evening, I went for a performance of Verdi's La Traviata by the English National Opera at the London Coliseum. Performing exclusively in English, the ENO is the modern incarnation of the former Sadlers Well's Opera Company and perhaps a poorer cousin to the most august Royal Opera House at Covent Garden. But it was a very good performance nonetheless, and my enjoyment was probably aided by the fact that as a student, I managed to get a good dress circle seat for less than a quarter of the full price. It's amazing what benefits my new identity brings me.

I would readily admit that this was the first time that I had attended a full-scale opera performance. My love for classical music had been centred mainly on instrumental works, with Bach's set of cantatas as a notable exception. I hadn't paid much attention to vocal music. So it was quite an eye-opener, and a fun evening at that, learning about the tragic tale of Violetta and Alfredo. La Traviata is definitely one of the more popular and accessible works on the standard operatic repertoire. I certainly don't mean to be flippant, but what they say of the art form is also true. The heroes and heroines take a long time to die. Instead of keeling over, as they're supposed to, they strut around the stage and sing. It can be unwittingly hilarious, but that's opera for you.