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Spectator
18-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Spectator
The cheering fantasies of Oliver Messel
Through the grey downbeat years of postwar austerity, we nursed cheering fantasies of a life more lavishly colourful and hedonistic. Oliver Messel fed them: born into Edwardian privilege, the epitome of well-connected metropolitan sophistication, he doubled up as interior decorator and stage designer, creating in both roles a unique style of rococo elegance and light-touch whimsy that sweetened and consoled – 'a gossamer world of gilded enchantment' as Roy Strong soupily put it. 'Marie Antoinette would have felt at home in any of his settings.' Posterity has not been kind to Messel. Only a little of his art has survived changes of fashion since his death in 1978: the Dorchester Hotel is currently restoring the VIP suite he dreamed up, and several villas in his beloved Barbados retain the appearance and atmosphere that he suavely devised for them. But aside from the Royal Ballet's unsuccessful attempt to resuscitate the splendours of his 1946 vision of The Sleeping Beauty, the work he prolifically did for the stage, both in Britain and the USA, survives only in coffee-table books and the archives. Perhaps the long lens of history will judge Messel's most substantial theatrical achievement to be embodied in the nine operas by Strauss, Rossini and Mozart that he designed for Glyndebourne between 1950 and 1959. An expertly curated exhibition, running through the current festival's season in the opera house's foyer, pays these legendary productions handsome tribute. Glyndebourne's fête champêtre was Messel's natural element, and his ancillary designs for the programme book and proscenium arch did much to establish what might now be described as its brand. Part of his genius was his understanding the village-hall scale of Glyndebourne's stage. The palatial scenes of Idomeneo and Der Rosenkavalier had intimacy as well as spaciousness, while the servants' quarters in Le nozze di Figaro and La Cenerentola were cutely cosy rather than dingy – Glyndebourne audiences in the 1950s weren't in the mood for gritty realism, and Messel seduced them with a sumptuous yet subtle palette of pink, green, plum, turquoise, ultramarine and canary yellow. Even if his initial sketches, dashed off in one session, were so impressionistic that seamstresses were hard put to interpret his intentions, he lavished as much imagination on costumes as he did on the scenery, relishing the textures of taffeta, chiffon and silk. Sadly few of these have been preserved, but a centrepiece of the exhibition is the Marschallin's gorgeous midnight blue and salmon pink gown from Rosenkavalier, worn by two great sopranos, Régine Crespin and Montserrat Caballé. Props also engaged him: Messel may have drawn vaguely, but he was meticulous and resourceful in the atelier, hands on and dirty, making do and mending with the detritus of pipe cleaner, cellophane, sticky tape, papier-mâché, sequins, and staples to conjure up the silver rose for Rosenkavalier or the Countess's mirror in Figaro. A furiously hard all-night worker who paid fanatic attention to detail, he was not an easy-going collaborator and he found the director Glyndebourne assigned him, Carl Ebert, 'rather hell' – a view that was probably reciprocated. Designs would be presented as a fait accompli: he had the whiphand, and any criticism or request for alteration would send him into a sulk. 'He thought he was perfect,' recalled his long-suffering assistant Carl Toms. But he wasn't perfect, and time caught up with him. Come the Swinging Sixties, his camp caprices began to look over-contrived and fey, and his productions would inexorably be replaced by more visually robust statements. In the West End young lion designers such as Sean Kenny abandoned painted backcloths for a grittier aesthetic based on solid materials and revolving machinery, while Glyndebourne turned to Emanuele Luzzati, an Italian who dealt in vibrant primary colours that Messel would have considered vulgar. He was, in other words, not a classic for the ages. But like his rival Cecil Beaton, he sums up an era. One tantalising glimpse of what his art looked like in performance remains: On Such a Night, a 40-minute promotional colour movie directed by Anthony Asquith, shows live scenes from the 1955 production of Figaro. The DVD is no longer on sale in the Glyndebourne shop, but copies can be snapped up on Amazon.
Yahoo
24-04-2025
- Entertainment
- Yahoo
Dr. Briana Sosenheimer honored with national Voice Award
SHREVEPORT, La. (KTAL/KMSS) — Centenary assistant professor of music Dr. Briana Sosenheimer has received an award for her dedication to teaching. Click here for more education news The National Association of Teachers of Singing recognized Dr. Sosenheimer for 'her dedication to teaching and the study of voice pedagogy and science' with the 2025 Voice Pedagogy Award. Dr. Sosenheimer is Director of Opera Centenary and the Coordinator of the Voice Area at the Hurley School of Music. Dr. Sosenheimer is a respected vocal teacher, stage director, and vocalist. She has performed internationally, including roles in Le nozze di Figaro, La Bohéme, Werther, and Carmen. Dr. Sosenheimer has also directed or assistant directed over 30 different productions with several different opera organizations. She also does outreach work, performing and composing operas for children. Dr. Cory Wikan, Dean of the Hurley School of Music, says, 'Dr. Sosenheimer is an exceptionally talented vocal pedagogue, stage director, and vocalist and is wholly deserving of this national honor.' The award comes with $500, which Dr. Sosenheimer plans to use to learn more about the science of voice by attending the Summer Vocology Institute at the University of Utah this summer. In the future, she would like to start a voice lab at Centenary and add more voice pedagogy curriculum. Copyright 2025 Nexstar Media, Inc. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
The Guardian
22-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
The week in classical: Le nozze di Figaro; Die Zauberflöte
For a young British opera singer to succeed today, it's not enough to have an outstanding voice, natural musicianship and a commanding stage presence. It also requires a steely determination to cope with both the paucity of work at home and the bureaucratic nightmare abroad after Brexit. Successive Tory governments presided over the decline of our leading opera companies, with huge cuts in funding at English National Opera, where seasons are shorter, productions recycled and the orchestra, chorus and music staff put on short-term contracts. And Glyndebourne and Welsh National Opera haven't escaped the knife, forcing them to cease touring; so much for levelling up. Boris Johnson's chaotic Brexit agreement simply forgot that pulling away from Europe would not only make life difficult for exporters – it would place huge barriers in the way of musicians. There's talk of trying to ease these restrictions, but is there the political will to do some joined-up thinking too? Music is a huge earner for this country, but music education is becoming the preserve of those who can afford it. If our new government is serious about supporting the arts (and growth), it must make music a natural part of the curriculum and help create real opportunities for those who want to progress. That sounds like a vain hope when disability benefits are being cut and defence spending rising, but we know that access to music-making – in whatever form and at whatever level – can have a positive effect on young people's health and wellbeing. It's better than staring at a screen. How ironic, then, that Britain, seen across the world as a leading centre of excellence for music training at conservatoire level, has so few opportunities for graduates once they are ready for work. Traditionally, new British singers have had to head to Europe to gain the experience they cannot find at home, but now the paperwork around visas and work permits makes this a daunting prospect, both for the singer and the employer. And the opportunity for worldwide audiences to hear young artists diminishes even further with the threatened withdrawal of BBC Radio 3 from digital services overseas. Given all this, it's gratifying to see that roll numbers have remained consistent at two of our top royal colleges, and – judging by two new Mozart productions staged last week – whatever the hurdles, there are new stars emerging. One name to watch is Ross Fettes, who sang Figaro in the first of two casts in the Royal College of Music's Le nozze di Figaro, directed with wit and charm by Jeremy Sams. Fettes is the whole package, possessing a fine, lyrical bass-baritone and a nimble way with comedy when outwitting his lecherous boss, Count Almaviva, sung by Sam Hird, a strong performer who grew in stature vocally as the evening progressed. Charlotte Jane Kennedy triumphed as Susanna, Figaro's equally crafty fiancee, her creamy soprano voice carrying her effortlessly through one of the most demanding roles in the repertoire. Soprano Madeline Boreham brought an admirable, dignified grace to her portrayal of Countess Almaviva, and fine control to her centrepiece aria Dove sono. Mezzo Cecilia Yufan Zhang was wonderfully energetic as the page Cherubino, and notable among the smaller roles were tenor Marcus Swietlicki as Basilio, Alexandria Moon as Marcellina and Bella Marslen as Barbarina. Diction was strong throughout and ensemble singing particularly impressive. The RCM Opera Orchestra responded well to conductor Michael Rosewell's measured tempi, with some fine woodwind playing particularly evident. Movement director Scott Howland enhanced the comedy with some witty footwork, in a production that was set in a crumbling 1980s French chateau, designed by Alex Doidge-Green and lit by Tim Mitchell. Lighting by Charlie Morgan Jones played a central role over at the Royal Academy of Music in its production of Die Zauberflöte, the bare stage dominated by dozens of fixed floodlights and about 20 neon strips that hovered, rose and descended in a balletic emulation of the action – one even transforming into the magic flute of the title. Mozart's singspiel is endlessly adaptable, and here director Jamie Manton and designer Justin Nardella chose to make the sage Sarastro a charismatic surgeon and his temple a hospital, with patients as his devotees. But having cast members in gowns and masks wrestling with tubes and breathing apparatus as the overture progressed felt uncomfortable on the fifth anniversary of the pandemic lockdown. In the first iteration of this double-cast show, however, we had a fine Papageno to lighten the mood. Mellifluous baritone Conrad Chatterton was instantly engaging, making the most of his role as birdcatcher/hospital cleaner in this extended post-operative hallucination, complete with cart, mops and disinfectant. Spectacular Queen of the Night Binny Supin Yang electrified the audience with her superb coloratura, which contrasted nicely with the velvety soprano of her disillusioned daughter, Pamina (Grace Hope-Gill). Daniel Vening made an impressively sage Sarastro, noble in his aria O Isis und Osiris, with tenor Owen Lucas a suitably menacing Monostatos and bass Theodore McAlindon a sonorous Speaker. Conductor Olivia Clarke kept the sparky Royal Academy Sinfonia on their toes with some enjoyably lively tempi. Perhaps the most intriguing aspect of the evening was the quality of the voices in the excellent chorus, promising more standout solo performances in future productions. Most of the principals in both of these shows will be going on to engagements in summer opera seasons in the UK and abroad, but what comes after depends as much on political will as it does on their undoubted talents. Star ratings (out of five) Le nozze di Figaro ★★★★ Die Zauberflöte ★★★ Le nozze di Figaro is at the Britten theatre, Royal College of Music, London, until Saturday 22 March
