Author Archives: Yanxi Yang

It was a night of impossibility! The VSO presented a repertoire that seemed to be charming but contradicted each other — an unlikely combination of Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Wagner’s Götterdämmerung, which make up the two parts of the concert. The two fellow composers, arguably the two most influential German composers of their time, contrasted sharply in their styles and ideologies. They were perceived as distinct composers, and their music also had different fates. 

This concert was so unique that it stood out among other VSO concerts — both works of music performed tonight were operas — so it involved the participation of three brilliant sopranos. Tracy Cantin. The night opened with a selection from Mendelssohn’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Overture, Scherzo, Lied with Choir*, Allegro appassionato, Con Moto tranquillo, Wedding March, Ein Tanz von Rupeln, Finale), the two soprano, Eve-Lyn de La Haye, Robyn Driedger-Klassen accompanied the full orchestra to the front of the stage. One dressed in purple, while the other dressed in green, making me think of Delibes’s famous Flower Duet.

A Midsummer Night’s Dream started with the Overture in E Major, a romantic orchestral piece, that was written when Mendelssohn was only 17 years old. The most well-known piece was certainly the Wedding March, which we hear almost every when we attend a wedding. Even though people might not know Mendelssohn or A Midsummer Night’s Dream, they could recognize the melody immediately. Also ingrained in people’s head was another Wedding March in Lohengrin, interestingly, composed by his junior competitor Wagner. Nonetheless, both Wedding March became deeply rooted in people’s heart; once they hear about it, they feel genuine vividness, joy, and happiness. 

Mendelssohn finished the composition of A Midsummer Night’s Dream Overture when he was only 17, but sixteen years later, he was commissioned by King Friedrich Wilhelm IV of Prussia to compose a full set of incidental music to be used at a German-language production in Potsdam. For this reason, the musical numbers after the Overture, including orchestral works and vocal numbers, showcase features of atmosphere music and were designed to be heard under speaking dialogues. 

The vivid theme of A Midsummer Night’s Dream attributed to the fairy-tale story settings — it took place in Ancient Greece, a time when humans and legendary creatures such as fairies lived side by side — two pairs of lovers found happiness and the story closed in a spectacular wedding which concluded that joyful couples lived happily ever after. A beautiful image of joy and love that seemed to only exist in dreams — a love story that can melt the heart of the merciless. 

During the intermission, the conductor Otto Tausk briefly explained the conflict between these two music geniuses (at least Wagner thought so). Once upon a time, Mendelssohn was the most famed and well-known musician in Germany, writing music that delighted and inspired people; Wagner, having admired Mendelssohn’s status in German music, sent his works to Mendelssohn and sought for the latter’s advice. It is unknown why Wagner never received a reply from Mendelssohn, but this “humiliation” prompted Wager to embark on a journey to tarnish Mendelssohn’s music — saying that Mendelssohn’s music was too light-hearted and could not be counted as great music works. Probably partly because of this “imagined” rivalry, Wagner adopted a distinct musical style that featured in leaden themes and attained inspiration from grand and magnificent epics. 

Wagner’s most famous and widely admired 15-hour operatic cycle — The Ring of the Nibelunges, which drew inspiration from Norse legends — was overwhelming in musical richness and emotions. This operatic work was a legend itself. It consisted of four parts, and Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods) was the concluding part of this colossal masterpiece. The three scenes: Dawn and Siegfried’s Rhine Journey, Siegfried’s Death and Funeral Music, and Brünnhilde’s Immolation together portrayed a grand mythical picture of Gods, legendary creatures, and humans on the bank of the Rhine River, and story about lust, greed, and power. With the death of Siegfried, Wagner presented a grand funeral march that stood in stark contrast with Mendelssohn’s vivacious Wedding March. The vocal scores of the last scene were delivered by soprano Tracy Cantin and her firmly magnificent voice, which resonated in the music hall.

Wagner’s music was awe-inspiring,  epical, disturbing, and overwhelmingly energetic. I admire Wagner’s genius of composing magnificent music, but it is honest to admit that it would be physically unhealthy to attend his opera more than once a week. I was going to see his Parsifal in Palais Garnier in Paris, but unfortunately, it was canceled due to technical reasons. After attending this concert, I realize that if I would be able to participate in his opera again someday, I should at least spend a week or two to be more mentally prepared. 

The clear difference between the two music virtuosos made their music end up in distinct directions. Wagner’s music and especially the magnificent Ring Cycle was appropriated by Nazi Germany as inspiration for the “vision of the future” of Germany — the fate of Earth and Norse Gods were used to parallel the Nazi’s Third Reich. Mendelssohn’s music, in contrast, was banned by the Nazi regime. However, Mendelssohn was the first to be performed in the liberation concert by the Berlin Philharmonic after the Second World War and the end of Nazi’s Reich. Thus, the combination of these two composers in a single concert was either a disaster or a brilliant success. The VSO had accomplished this impossible task — and delivered this concert of unique, dramatic, and thought-provoking experiences. 

Tonight’s programme at the Chan Centre was quite extraordinary. Conducted by the UBC symphony, two of the symphonies performed (A Northern Suite and La Mer) were inspired and centered on a universal theme – the Nature – that is, our nature, which nurtured, enamored us, and ultimately shaped our perceptions of the world. It was particularly an honor to attend the Canadian Première of John Luther Adams’ A Northern Suite. 

Known as a composer whose passion and music was profoundly inspired by nature, John Luther Adam, a winner of Pulitzer prize for music, dedicated his life to the composition of music which shared a common theme of “nature.” Compared him to Mahler, one of the most talented composers of all time, Jason Victor Serinus of Classical Voice North America remarked, “Mahler may take us to the heavens, for example, but who else in the history of composition [except John Luther Adams] has so masterfully set us down in the middle of nature, and then enabled us to discover the divine in every sound?” 

Indeed, if Mahler claimed that his music was always a manifestation of the beauty of nature, Adams’ music simply took us to the breathtaking scenes of untampered nature and primitivity. If Become Ocean had won him a Pulitzer Prize, A Northern Suite was a symphony work that reflected his life experience living in Alaska, and even appeared to be highly relatable to the Canadian audiences. Let’s hear some of the titles of movements in this symphony – “Blue Ice, Crystal Air,” “Rivers of Ice,” and “Valleys of Frozen Fire” – at first glance I thought it was composed by a Canadian composer whose love for northern land was deep and sincere.

However, although grown up in the suburbs of New York City and educated in California, John Luther Adams’ passion for the icebound northern land was no less strong as any native-born Canadian. The trip to Alaska permanently bound him to the exploration of the beauty of nature, as he said, “In the summer of 1975, I made my first trip to Alaska. The sprawling distances, unbroken silences, and incredible qualities of light up here completely changed the course of my life and work.” In fact, the experience of being a dedicated environmentalist influenced Adams’ works in music profoundly and was reflected in the themes of nature that he explored. 

A Northern Suite was an unconventional work of symphony. Unlike many of the classical pieces that we heard in class, this piece diverted drastically from the traditional structure symphony. It was structured around the motifs of nature: ice, mountain, forest, and fire, and applied the sonorities of the orchestral instruments to elaborate on the images of these natural themes. “The magic of music” – it was my first impression after hearing the first movement “Blue Ice, Crystal Air” – in which Adams utilized string instruments to create a crisp and shimmering sound that alluded to the quality of ice. The second movement was especially fascinating that it only included a long and incessant rumble produced by percussion instruments. Although the sound lasted for around 10 minutes, the audience could hardly feel bored because of the ever-changing emotion and images that this simple sound delivered. It was magical that one could feel such complex emotions towards a single, homophonic sound – once I imagined I was standing on the top of mountains alone, with everything around me seemed so far away, and later I felt an accumulating fear and anxiety as I was traversing a dark valley in a high speed, hoping to see the light again. The third movement “Cloud Forest” was the most mesmerizing of all – it brought us to the middle of a forest – we could even smell the moisture of wood.

The last two movements were equally entertaining and even made us oblivious of the surroundings as we were in the embrace of nature and not in this congested music hall. One prominent feature of Adams’ symphony was that it vividly reminded us of the beauty of nature and it could certainly be utilized in film or video scorings for this powerful function. After a marvelous journey to the Great Nature, A Northern Suite won my heart, and it was indeed an honor to attend its première in Canada. I would also continue to follow the music of this idiosyncratic environmentalist composer, John Luther Adams, for his dedication to nature deeply moved and inspired me. 

The initial allure of this concert, however, was Claude Debussy’s La Mer, which was arguably his most far-reaching symphony. Although Debussy was reluctant to name it a symphony, as he claimed that there was nothing to exploit in symphony after Beethoven, this masterwork became one of the most loved and widely performed symphonies of all times. As a huge fan of Debussy’s music and his impressionism, I obtained a collection of vinyl records of his works, including La Mer, which was one of my favorite symphonies. The full title of the work – La Mer: Trois Esquisses Symphonies – referred to the theme of this work, the powerful evocation of three distinct scenes of the ocean. 

The structure of La Mer lasted for roughly 24 minutes in three movements could be found in here:  

•  ”From dawn to noon on the sea” or “From dawn to midday on the sea” – very slow – animate little by little (B minor)
•  ”Play of the Waves” – allegro (with a very versatile rhythm) – animated (C sharp minor)
•  ”Dialogue of the wind and the sea” or “Dialogue between wind and waves” – animated and tumultuous – ease up very slightly (C sharp minor)

Debussy was certainly a man who did not conform to the norm, as he said: “The real lesson Beethoven teaches us is not to cling to old forms; and nor should we feel under any obligation to take his beginnings as our own starting point. It’s important to gaze on the open sky through open windows, and yet it seems to me that they have been closed almost forever.” Understanding the guiding principle of his music implied, “le plaisir est la règle” or “pleasure is the law,” we caught a glimpse of Debussy’s creative process which produced unique and enduring works of music.

As for La Mer, his fascination with the sea might be originated to his father, who was a sailor; and later he was influenced by the artworks, especially Hokusai’s woodblock print “The Great Wave Off Kanagawa,” which Debussy transformed it to be his cover of the first edition of La Mer in 1905. As a spirited breakaway from the tradition, like Wagner and Schumann who utilized arpeggiated triads to evoke the movement of water, La Mer applied the full orchestral instruments to create a more splendid and rich sonority, avoiding the dullness of musical onomatopoeia. The complexity of instrumental sounds carried us from the serenity of the seaside to the tumultuous conversation between the wind and the ocean. It was an exceptional audio-visual banquet, as Mark DeVoto described, “much more complex than anything Debussy had written earlier.” It was indeed a unique and captivating piece that transcended time and found no counterparts in the entirety of music history. 

Overall, it was a superb experience attending a concert organized by the UBC Symphony Orchestra, as the director Jonathan Girard always kept up with the highest standard of music conduction. Participation in A Northern Suite’s Canadian première and recording was a nouveau experience for me and I truly appreciated it. Moreover, no words could explain my gratitude towards UBC Symphony Orchestra for bringing La Mer, one of my most beloved and cherished works of music alive. Violà, that was a night full of miracles and worth constantly remembering in the rest of my life. 

Although the last time when the Vancouver Opera Bizet staged Bizet’s jaw-dropping opera, Carmen was already five years ago, we were thrilled to watch an encore of Carmen Live presented by the Metropolitan Opera, one of the most prestigious opera houses on earth, in 2010. Carmen, which was composed by Georges Bizet, is an immensely interesting opera for its atypical story and characters. No wonder when Carmen was first performed in 1875 that the audiences all felt scandalized by its unconventional content – and a flirtatious yet attractive character. Considered as the genre of opéra comique, Carmen is indeed a groundbreaking masterpiece in every way and has perpetually changed the perception of the development of western opera. 

Carmen, the fictitious gypsy beauté portrayed by French mezzo-soprano Clémentine Margaine in this Metropolitan production, became arguably the most famous seductress in the world of theatre and drama. There is no doubt that even though some of my peers were not able to see Carmen in person, they are familiar with this mesmerizing character and some of her acclaimed arias, such as “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle,” also known as Habanera in first Act. This aria was so powerful that it explicitly manifested Carmen’s life motto – eagerness and courage to embark on every journey of love, which would entangle her in two love affaires with two men, namely Don José and Escamillo, and eventually led her to a fatal destination. 

My first impression of Carmen was also from this famous aria – performed by the eternal Maria Callas – so I had a strong preconceived standard about how this timeless tune should be sounded like. Surprisingly, I was so impressed with Clémentine’s performance that for a moment I stopped comparing her to Callas or other greatest sopranos I knew. It was only a little regretful that Habanera in this production was rather brief and insignificant in terms of propelling the narrative. In my personal opinion, this production will even be more captivating if the director chose to slow down the pace of the first act and highlight this mesmerizing aria, namely “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle,” or Habanera, as the audiences were all anxiously anticipated. Personally, I really looked forward to it because I had practiced the piano version of Habanera almost for a year when I was thirteen! 

Although being a French opera, Carmen had an authentic Spanish touch not only because the story was set in southern Spain, but also through the music composition. Bizet had appropriated many Spanish elements to his music, for example, the famous aforementioned aria, Habanera, was based on a folk melody, “El Arreglito,” composed by a Spanish compare Sebastián Yradier. Rearrangements like this were numerous in Carmen, that Bizet had incorporated many Spanish folk melodies as well as the musical tradition that was associated with flamenco music. This inclusion of foreign elements might be accountable for the unique charm of Carmen and its enduring popularity. 

However, Carmen was still a French opera which entertained four acts. Another most known melody in Carmen, namely the Toreador Song, ushered the bullfighter Escamillo into Act 2. From then on, the waggish love triangle between Escamillo, Carmen, and her former lover Don José began to unfold, lifting the curtain of a drama of love, hatred, crimes, outlaws, and murders. The whole plot was driven by the charming personality and passionate love affairs of a beautiful woman who was situated at the bottom of the society. 

Clémentine’s portrayal of Carmen was ingenious and deserved the highest praise. Not only did her superb vocal techniques perfectly interpret all the arias and duets, which precipitated strong emotions, but also had her performance of this role as a whole made Carmen alive. This role was tough to play, as we perceived, that it involved a substantial portion of dancing, acting, and flirting; it required the actor to utterly forsake her own identity and immerse in the proletarian environment of Carmen, surrounded by soldiers, prostitutes, and smugglers. Despite all the seeming difficulties, I was appalled and genuinely impressed by Clémentine’s performance. She became Carmen herself on stage, in spirit, and from every meticulous detail. 

Overall, I was very grateful that I was able to enjoy a world-class rendition of Carmen Live by the Metropolitan Opera without buying very pricy tickets. I suppose it might be the best way for young people like us to freely explore the world of opera – to watch films of opera Live in a movies theatre is affordable and will not sacrifice too much of our viewing experiences. At least for this time, the vivid character of Carmen as a complicated, mesmerizing, and lovable woman has planted a seed in my head; she will continuously appear and inspire me in the future. 

Nothing is more romantic than attending a La Bohème opera on Valentine’s Day. On this Feb. 14th, Vancouver just witnessed its first snow of the year, and was still shrouded in the coldness of thawing ice that was washed against by the drizzling rain. However, it did not hinder Vancouver’s enthusiasm to see the long-awaited debut of La Bohème 2019 in the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. Young and old couples all dressed in an elegant fashion, queuing in front of the theatre and waiting to see the most memorable romantic story of the year — La Bohème — a Vancouver Opera’s new production of Puccini’s opera of 1896, which enjoyed enduring popularity over the century. We were privileged and excited to buy Valentine’s Day deal tickets, which granted us the best seats in orchestra circle with only half the prize. It was meant to be an incredible experience at the beginning of the new year!

Featured in timeless music conducted by a Canadian musician and conductor Judith Yan, and stage/costume designed by André Barbe, it was the 12th time Vancouver Opera has presented a MainStage production of La Bohème. I was familiar with some of the main arias and famous duos and was in high hope of hearing some new great voices. I was not disappointed at all! On the contrary, I was overwhelmed by the Korean tenor Ji-Min Park’s smooth,  lyrical and flowing voices, which stole my heart in the first and the most famous aria — “Che Gelida Manina.” It was the young tenor’s 100th performance of this role in La Bohème as Rodolfo. His voice had an absolutely gentle and powerful texture as well as properly-treated emotion, reminding the audience of many great and sophisticated tenor voices in the world, alive or dead. The magnificence and tenderness of his voice almost overshadowed the famous soprano aria that came right after — Mimì’s confession “Si Mi Chiamo Mimì.” Undoubtedly, it was one of the most beautiful aria in the entire opera, and the Quebecois soprano France Bellemare’s interpretation was warm and sensational. Although the preconceived version of Maria Callas, one of the greatest sopranos ever, was truly unforgettable, I was still moved by the emotion in France’s voice and her exquisite performance. The ostinato of this opera was revealed in these two beautiful arias for the first time and would recur throughout the whole piece, while the recitatives were both informative and beautiful. 

As known to all, Puccini’s opera was famous in its sensitivity and detail to everyday subjects. Unlike the grandeur of Wagner’s operas that were generally based on religious or mythical tales, Puccini always portrayed the mundane yet touching stories about the joy and sorrow of young couples falling in love. The libretto for La Bohème was written by Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica, who had also collaborated with Puccini with his other two timeless pieces — Tosca and Madama Butterfly. The story was based on French author Henri Murger’s play Scènes de La Vie de Bohème, while the creation of this opera involved a bit of drama, including the rupture of friendship between Puccini and his best friend, a fellow composer Leoncavallo. Nevertheless, it was this mundane love story that I found deeply interesting and touching. In the first Act, Mimì and Rodolfo fell in love in the blink of an eye and highlighted the bohemian lifestyle portrayed in the story — a group of young artists in a Latin Quarter garret struggling to survive the winter while possessing a high spirit of their lives in poverty. The subsequent two Acts presented light-hearted chorus, including dances and spectacles, as well as heartrending duos between Mimì and Rodolfo while they were forced to part — all beautifully done with poetic librettos and music. 

The last Act, namely Act 4, was particularly sensational, as it ended the story with the sudden death of Mimì. Mimì, with her deteriorating health due to tuberculosis, was in her death bed in the last few minutes of the opera. The last duo between Mimì and Rodolfo was so heartbreaking; and it highlighted with Mimì’s reinterpretation of Rodolfo’s famous aria — “Che Gelida Manina,” reminding us of the first scene when the two young lovers met, and broke out in Rodolfo’s desperate outcry of Mimì’s name when she died — a rather unusual unconstrained outburst of voice, which involved a tearing quality because of the extreme sadness. 

Overall, I cannot express how amazed I was by watching this incredible piece of opera — what I still remember is that I hated to see the curtain fall when the last Act closed; I absolutely did not regret that I attended this debut of Vancouver Opera’s new production of Puccini’s La Bohème, for which I had to stand in the coldness on the streets of Downtown at midnight, waiting for a bus that never came while still having an MUSC 326’s midterm on the next day. I appreciated this piece so much as it reminded me of my sincere hope for worldly love as well as my heartfelt love for music; just as the music class brought the passion and enthusiasm for music back to me —  all eventually presenting a message that was transmitted through music — a world full of hope and happiness. 

Attending an orchestral concert featured in Debussy and Bruckner music on a rainy Friday night was a great pleasure. Being a huge lover for Debussy’s piano music and always curious about Bruckner’s symphonic works, I decided to partake in this concert almost immediately. The program includes Debussy’s famous chamber piece for the harp and strings: Danses Sacrée et Profane, and Bruckner’s Symphony No. 6 in A Major. A brilliant Canadian composer Kelly-Marie Murphy’s newly prized symphony, En El Secure Es Todo Uno (In the Darkness, All is One) was also highlighted in this concert, bringing about a brisk touch of contemporary symphony works. Something extraordinary about this concert is that conductor Maestro Bramwell Tovey returned as VSO Music Director Emeritus after paying his loyal service to VSO for eighteen years. 

During the pre-concert talk, musician Nicolas Krusek conducted a brief interview with Kelly-Marie Murphy about her new symphony work that was going to be unveiled that night. She told us about her inspirations about this piece, which was dedicated to the Sephardic repertoire. Once she talked to her daughter’s singing teacher, who was a Jewish and was accordingly recommended the music of Sephardic Jews. These people were expelled from Spain in 1942, spoke Ladino, which became the language of her title later, creating music that was full of emotions. As her symphony unfolded, we catch a glimpse of the Sephardic music’s elements. 

Although this piece was written for cello and harp with chamber orchestra, the composer noted, the percussion instruments were crucial to the Sephardic music. Therefore, in this piece, she boldly added clapping, twanging and other exotic sounds to mimic percussion instruments, ushering the audience into the Sephardic music’s atmosphere. 

The first piece opening the night was Debussy’s Danses Sacrée et Profane. As a representative of the Impressionist composer, Debussy was renowned for his revolutionary spirit in the experiment of the musical form. This short symphony written for harps and strings revealed the characteristic of Debussy’s music and adopted an innovative instrument called the chromatic harp. This particular harp used in this performance only had forty-six strings but ranged six and a half octaves. In addition, seven pedals which could be raised or depressed were used to add three possible pitches on every string, filling up the absent chromatic intervals. 

This opus was divided into two parts, as suggested by the title: the first section represented the secret dance, while the second referred to the profane dance, a more natural and humane theme compared to the former. The first one was slow, serene, with a unison melody performed by strings accompanied by harps, and the second was more lively, presenting a recognizable thematic disparity. Like Debussy’s other works, Danses Sacrée et Profane returned to the initial theme several times, eliciting a sense of harmony, tranquility, and satisfaction. The harpist was Heidi Krutzen, who was a leading harp artist in Canada. 

The Bruckner Symphony No. 6 in A Major consisted of four movements: I. Majestoso (A major); II. Adagio: Sehr feierlich (F major); III. Scherzo: Nicht schnell – Trio: Langsam (A minor); and IV. Finale: Bewegt, doch nicht zu schnell (A minor – A major). It might not be widely performed as many Bruckner’s other symphonies, but it represented the character of Bruckner when he was most confident as a composer. It was also one of his few works that he didn’t revise throughout his lifetime. Like Bruckner’s other symphonies, Symphony No. 6 in A Major was majestic, an idiosyncrasy of Bruckner’s music largely due to his organist background. This symphony had a clear multilayered structure, brimming with tension, relief, dreary grayness and vivacity. The inexhaustible momentum of trying to find the shining truth reminded us of Bruckner’s philosophical reflection on his music. The piece ended with concord of strings and lingered for a few seconds in audiences’ head before they realized to applaud with cordial approval. 

On the whole, the experience of musical appreciation with Maestro Tovey was highly enjoyable, informative and eye-opening. The conductor Maestro Tovey has won my heart as a truly respectable and prestigious musician with high musical standards. I look forward to attending his next concerts and hearing more of his Debussy and Bruckner repertoire.