Latest news with #Rozenn
Irish Examiner
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Irish Examiner
Book review: Makings of a masterpiece
The teenage protagonist of Kimberly Campanello's debut novel, introduced to us simply as K, has landed in Brittany in the late 90s to improve her French. She's attending a programme with other overachieving American trainees or 'stagiaires', where speaking and writing in their native language is strictly forbidden and the English-French dictionary can be consulted only once a week for emergencies — K, an aspiring poet, uses it to look up the word 'wasp' for a poem. She's staying in a charming cliff-side home with a warm host family and their three children; Rozenn, Gwenn, and the enigmatic M, another character we know only by initial. Close in age, K and Rozenn become fast friends. M is a few years older than K — she's felt drawn to him ever since the programme sent her a photograph of the family in which he appears shirtless, teasing her formative summer abroad. This isn't a will they won't they tale, we know from the first page that K and M are involved, yet romantic tension drips from the story: The everydayness of living in pleasure with the one person who gives you nothing but. Pleasures of the body and art are explored, frustrations and freedoms are found, empowering options are embraced: 'If she can't find the words she actually wants, she must remake the ones she has.' Irish-American Campanello has already achieved acclaim as a poet and is Professor of Poetry at the University of Leeds. Use the Words You Have is the first book from the new imprint of Somesuch, a Bafta and Oscar-winning production company and publisher of an arts journal, founded in London. Aptly, Campanello's writing is filmic, yet this isn't a novel shamelessly constructed with an adaptation in mind; it is one in which each page is a soft spectacle, appearing to unfold from within and above for a result that is somehow both personal and panoramic, and serene, like a solo cinema date. When poets first defect to prose, it can feel as though they are stepping into a hired costume without quite allowing themselves to be zipped into its conventions — poetic devices such as repetition and white space become showy accessories they are determined to work into the look. The novel isn't untouched by this, but it's less like Campanello is trying the form on for size, more like she is pointing us towards an ingenious way of styling. She applies a poet's precision to the unfurling of the narrative that is thrilling to observe, elements of its construction are playfully exhibited, space works for dramatic and humorous effect. Campanello wears her significant skill lightly — although no stranger to a knockout sentence, she seems less concerned with these than with serving the work as a whole. The outcome is a layered, annular artistry that is often breathtaking to witness. K tells us, 'You cannot mouth a photo the way you can mouth and breathe words and skin', and Use the Words You Have is one of those rare books that not only sparks excitement for the talent on show, but revives a passion for the very possibilities of the medium itself. The author and her publisher display innovation, and in an environment of brazen technological advancement, an award-winning production company expanding its print offerings, of all things, feels like a heartening move. Amidst feverish publicity campaigns vying for the book of the summer, Campanello has discreetly slid a masterpiece into the mix. For admirers of Annie Ernaux and André Aciman or indeed any avowed lover of language, if you read one debut this season, make it Campanello's. Read More Book review: A fresh perspective on reflection
The Guardian
31-03-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Le Roi d'Ys review – the floodgates open to Lalo's thrilling tale of love, rage and war
Édouard Lalo's Le Roi d'Ys was first performed in Paris in 1888. A work of often startling originality, it was hugely admired in its day and still hovers on the fringes of the repertory in the French-speaking world. Elsewhere, however, its outings have been sporadic, so Chelsea Opera Group cannot be too highly commended for tackling it in a very fine concert performance conducted by Paul Wingfield. The opera derives from the Breton legend of the city of Ys that vanished, Atlantis-like, beneath the ocean. The king of the title, however, is not its central protagonist, and Lalo focuses on his two daughters, gracious Rozenn and imperious Margared, both in love with the soldier Mylio, initially believed a casualty of the recent war between Ys and the forces of the enemy prince Karnac. A pawn in her father's politics, Margared is to marry Karnac as part of their peace treaty. But her refusal to do so on discovering that Mylio is both alive and loves Rozenn, leads first to the resumption of hostilities, then to her conspiring with Karnac to open the floodgates that protect the city from the sea. The work has often been dubbed Wagnerian, in part thanks to its dark, brass rich orchestral colouring and the echoes of Elsa and Ortrud in Lohengrin that inform Lalo's depiction of the relationship between Rozenn and Margared. Yet the description is also in many ways wide of the mark as Lalo's absolute conciseness of expression and avoidance of symphonic development are the antithesis of Wagnerian expansion. Reiterated rhythmic patterns, at times turning obsessive, drive the music forwards. The choruses, extensive and exacting, oscillate between ritual and violence. And the extraordinary vocal writing for Margared, clipped, neurotic and declamatory, fatally undermines the lyricism of all those round her. The performance was thrilling. Wingfield drove the score hard, its moments of edgy nervousness and the disturbing excitement of Lalo's war music contrasting with the beauty of the love scenes between Mylio and Rozenn. Choral singing and playing were characterised by furious energy and commitment. Etching words and phrases in her lower register, Maria Schellenberg's Margared was all hauteur and barely repressed rage. Rozenn has sometimes been depicted as gentle and timid, though Hye-Youn Lee portrays her as a woman of great moral certainty and strength. This is a beautiful voice, too. Mylio's music lies high and Luis Gomes, though admirably heroic and lyrical, had a couple of moments of strain towards the end. Alexey Gusev, on the other hand, made a terrific Karnac, deeply attractive yet implacably malign. Thomas D Hopkinson was the dignified king. Chelsea Opera Group at their best – and we need to hear the work itself much more frequently than we do.
