Afternoon opera and loss of a friend

After a Saturday morning lie-in, waffles for breakfast. Then I went for an hour's walk in the park to get some exercise before an early snack lunch. Then we drove to the Millennium Centre for a WNO opera matinée at three. 

This time, it was a new production of Benjamin Britten's last opera 'Death in Venice'. It was different from anything we've seen before with a troupe of five NoFitState circus artists integrated into the performance, representing youngsters having fun on the Venice Lido beach, slack-lining and tumbling in amazing balletic routines, plus corde lisse  rope ballet, representing the turmoil of thoughts and emotions in the protagonist's mind. It happened during the music and singing, not as a show within a show. 

The combination of music and movement I found emotionally powerful. Marc Le Brocq sang Aschenbach superbly. He was on-stage for nearly all of the two hours forty minutes performance. The stage was bare apart from ladders at the sides used by the circus artists, and a few movable props to symbolise the change of setting, in addition to a video backdrop of the sea, Venice and a hotel.

The melancholic musical ethos reminded me of his 'War Requiem' and 'Curlew River'. It evoked an artist in later life reflecting on his literary vocation during a spell of writer's block, who is deeply disturbed by the awakening of an attraction to a young man called Tadzio, who has no singing role, but is represented by leading male circus virtuoso artist Anthony César doing gymnastic moves on the beach. Its getting good reviews in the press. Well deserved, I reckon.

We drove home as the sun was setting, and I cooked a pasta dish for supper. Then I had a message from our friend Manel in Geneva to say that Alec Hester had died, getting on for a hundred I believe. With his wife Ann-Marie, we was one of Holy Trinity Church's most long standing members, being one of the early British post doctoral physicists to work at CERN, marry and then spend the rest of their lives together living in a house right next to the French border, not far from where he worked. 

Each year when I was Chaplain in Geneva, we would prepare the annual Nine Lessons and Carols service booklet together for the big Christmas Eve service in Saint Pierre, using his Apple Mac - he was an early adopter. They were a most hospitable couple, welcoming church groups to their home for fellowship over a meal or working party activities. I officiated at their younger daughter's wedding too. They lived in the same house for over sixty years, well into their nineties, before needing care in a nursing home. We met thirty two years ago, and were still exchanging Christmas news and greetings until covid disrupted all our lives. It must be ten years since we last visited them. He was a wonderful, thoughtful gentle soul. May he rest in peace.

Welsh musical First Night

More rain overnight, so the pavements and rains were flooded when I walked to St Catherine's to celebrate the Eucharist. There were a dozen of us today. As it was the 'All Saints of Wales' feast day, I had the idea beforehand of making a list of Welsh Saints whose names I could recall from memory from place names around the Principality, then read them out in place of a sermon and explained why. There was one local to us, St Elvan, to whom a church in Aberdare is dedicated. Stephen, who taught in the town's Church secondary comprehensive school, reminded me of this over coffee afterwards. Apart from this omission, I managed to remember twenty four names.

I then went to Chapter to collect this week's veggie bag and cooked some chicken for myself and a sugo to accompany this, and the veggie equivalent of meatballs. Later, I did the week's grocery shopping at the Co-op, and made a few edits on Sway. Then it was time for an early supper so that we could drive to the Millennium Centre for the first sell-out performance of 'Branwen:Dadeni', a Welsh language music theatre show.  Here's a peek at the rehearsals

The story is a creative adaptation of a tale from the Mabinogion about a royal family in decline, war weary, corrupt, looking to restore its fortunes through the ability of a charismatic 'People's Princess' to unite the kingdom to build a new society together. All that happens in the story is history repeating itself. It's a matter of plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose - same old, same old yet again. 

The auditorium was packed with younger than average opera goers, predominantly Welsh speaking. An unusual experience! A band of six musicians played from an open gallery above the stage - keyboard bass, drums, to fiddles and harp. The music was too loud for me, but appropriate to the character of the show, even if on times the dialogue was repeated in song a dance routine 

The spoken dialogue was interspersed with song and dance routines delivered by six principal performers plus eight singers performing either in the gallery or on stage. Translated into English on two of the three surtitle screens (one at stage level in the corner), it was often funny but for my taste, overly crude adding nothing to the story, if anything a substitute for real emotional depth. 

Much of the dialogue was poetic philosophical, reflecting on the nature of power and status. I'd love to see a full operatic treatment of this libretto by a top composer like Carl Jenkins, as a completely sung version would bring out its full emotional power and colour. 

It was gone eleven when we reached home. I had to hunt the neighbourhood for a place to park the car, as our street was full. That's why I hate going out in car at night. Returning the usual hassle spoils the pleasure, and it won't be easy to get to sleep.

Matinée Première

A mild and sunny day, with waffles for breakfast. Afterwards I printed off tomorrow's sermon, then started on next week's edition of Sway, Sunday readings to go with it and a couple of new parish publicity pieces, as I was feeling fresh and had enough concentration to work accurately. Some days I'm too distracted for it to be worthwhile making the effort. Other days, no problem. Bad days might be due to lack of good sleep. It seems to vary in a way I can't make sense of. 

After lunch we drove to the Bay for the matinée première of the WNO's 'La Traviata' at the Millennium Center featuring Australian-Mauritian Stacey Alleaume as Violetta and Korean David Junghoon Kim as Rudolfo two well matched singers in leading tragic roles, delivering an emotionally powerful performance with ease. It was an impressive first outing for a WNO standard opera. I think the stage production is much the same as it was when I've seen it before twice at least, but with some effective changes in the presentation of later scenes.

It was pleasant to leave the theatre in daylight and good mild weather, a couple of hours before sunset. After the drive home, I walked around the block for twenty minutes to stretch my legs. Then we went to Stefano's for supper - a festive meal for Clare and Ann whose birthdays are within a week of each other. After a glass of wine and opera chat, an early night.

Urdd showcase

The afternoon Clare went to Dinas Powis to spend the night with her colleague Jacquie, whose late husband Russell's funeral is to be held in the Wenallt Chapel at Thornhill Crematorium next Saturday morning. I accompanied her in the car as far as the outskirts of Penarth, then walked from there down through the Marina to the Barrage.

The tide was right out, and the sea lock was in operation, for the benefit of a few yachts and fishing boats. I stopped and took photos, and found myself transported to far off places by the sound of the lock gates closing and opening, the roar and scent of  fresh water expelled into the sea. Whether it was the Vienna locks on the Danube or Iffezheim am Rhine, it's the same experience. I just love that environment, and look forward to another cruise when I can travel again. Either on the Duoro or the Rhone, hopefully.

Plas Roald Dahl is now fully occupied with Pavilions and pop up fast food places, ready for the start of the Urdd Eisteddfod running all through half term week from the opening concert tomorrow night. A wonderful fiesta of gifted youth, keen to sing and dance and recite in public. It's marvellous that entrance to events and exhibitions on the 'Maes' is free, as it was for the National Eisteddfod last summer. you just pay to get into the Millennium Centre for performances and concerts staged therein. It's a credit to the City Council to invest in Welsh Arts and Culture in this way.

When I arrived home, there was a messing on the answering machine from cousin Ivor, from whom I have heard nothing for over a year. I knew he'd been in hospital with diabetes related illness, and had been deteriorating due to self neglect. I wrote to him at the time, aware of the difficult I might have at calling a mobile phone at his bedside. In fact, I wasn't sure if I had the right number as he'd changed or lost a phone previously and hadn't kept kept the number.

I called him back, pleased to find that I did have the right number, for future reference. He'd gone through a long spell of rehabilitation with success, and is now back at home. Best of all, he's finally writing the biography of his architectural mentor and role model Leslie Martin, something he's been promising himself to get on with ever since he retired, but never got around to. Already he's half way through the writing stage, loving the task and finding renewed enthusiasm for what he does well. Becoming a grandfather this year was a big boost to his spirits. Sarah his daughter has followed in her father's footsteps and qualified as an architect after a first class degree in pottery, and she's already producing work he delights in. Nice to have some good news for a change.
 

In the evening, I watched the last double episode of Canadian crimmie 'Cardinal', with a somewhat predictable ending. The landscape is a beautiful backdrop to the drama, but its seasons and weather don't play a part in this 'back of the beyond' story, as happens in BBC Wales' 'Hinterland' or 'Rebecka Martenson: Arctic Murders', to name two series that get it right.