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In Hope Against All Hopes Madrid Auditorio Nacional de Música 01/24/2025 - & January 25, 26, 2025 Brett Dean: In spe contra spem
Sergei Rachmaninoff: Symphony No. 2 in E minor, Op. 27 Emma Bell, Jennifer France (sopranos)
Orquesta Nacional de Espana, Jaime Martín (conductor)
J. France, M. Jocelyn, J. Martín, B. Dean, E. Bell (© Jose Luis Pindado González)
The draw of the evening was unquestionably Rachmaninoff’s Second Symphony, an enduring work and a staple of late romantic orchestral repertoire. Therefore many expected the opening work to be a forgettable short contemporary work of the kind that often opens a concert, featured for good measure. But happily, Brett Dean’s In spe contra spem was an enticingly dark and dramatic work, easily the equal of Rachmaninoff’s symphony, such was its formidable power.
Premiered less than two years ago, In spe contra spem was one of the fruits of the Australian composer’s three‑year term as composer-in-residence with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. The new work is a scena drammatica for two sopranos that the composer hopes will eventually become an opera about Mary Stuart and Elizabeth Tudor.
Ever since Schiller’s play Maria Stuart (1800), the fictional meeting of the two queens has been adapted in several works, most notably Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda (1835), the most memorable of many Italian operas on the subject. Invariably in these Italian operas, Mary is an innocent martyr while Elizabeth is a villain. Portrayed as a dignified, proud and angelic woman, Mary was by all accounts not saintly. She was believed to have conspired with her lover (and later spouse) Lord Bothwell to murder her first husband (and half‑cousin) Henry Stuart. Contrary to the anglocentric view of Good Queen Bess, Elizabeth was not held in high esteem in then mostly Catholic continental Europe. After all, she was pivotal in ejecting the Catholic Church from Britain, and was responsible for executing a legitimate Catholic Queen. She was also seen as a bastard child, as her father Henry VIII’s marriage to Catherine of Aragon was never annulled, hence his marriage to her mother Anne Boleyn was not recognized by the Church. Mary, Queen of Scots, daughter of James V and Marie de Guise, was the legitimate Queen of Scotland, therefore as the great‑niece of Henry VIII, she too had a viable claim to England’s throne.
In Dean’s In spe contra spem, at last we have a work from the Anglosphere that does not take a rigid stand glorifying Elizabeth and vilifying Mary. Without judging either, the work juxtaposes the two queens using texts based on their own writings, adapted by librettist Matthew Jocelyn. As Mary was the widow of François II of France prior to being Queen of Scotland, some of her writings are in French. Soprano Emma Bell, whose voice has become considerably larger and darker, portrays Elizabeth, while lyric soprano Jennifer France portrays Mary. Bell’s powerful spinto crushes the much lighter France, reflecting the relative power of the two monarchs during Mary’s captivity. France’s French diction was more than adequate and she had a clear understanding of her role.
Dean’s music is powerful, lyrically modern and unendingly emotive. His music does not immediately conjure that of other composers per se, and while it’s unabashedly modern, it is also appealing. The score is grandiose, unsurprising given its subject. At times it is strident, reflecting the states of mind of the two competing relatives, one resigned to her impending doom. At others, Dean’s vision is lyrical and expansive. For In spe contra spem’s second song, Mary expresses a hope against all hope for a pardon. Most touching was the song “Were we but as two milkmaids,” which underlined the burden of power. Had the two cousins not been queens but rather simple folk, ensuing conflicts would have been less antagonistic, let alone tragic. At times, the music evokes a Tudor consort, utilizing harpsichord to great effect. Once an idyllic atmosphere is attained, the music veers to chaos, becoming strident and dissonant.
When he composed his Second Symphony, Rachmaninoff (1873‑1943) had huge doubts about his abilities. In part, this was due to the huge flop that was his First Symphony in 1897. The failure of the earlier symphony was largely due to its conductor, Alexander Glazunov (1865‑1936), being considerably inebriated at its premiere. Fellow composer and music critic César Cui (1835‑1928) was devastatingly vituperous; he claimed that the work “depicted the biblical plagues of Egypt” and that it would have “delighted the inmates of Hell.” Rachmaninoff was devastated, and fell into a depression and a writer’s block that lasted three years. It took daily meetings–for close to a year–with prominent neurologist Nikolai Dahl (1860‑1939) to escape the abyss.
After the huge success of his Second Piano Concerto in 1901, which he dedicated to Dahl, Rachmaninoff regained his self‑confidence and composed another symphony. Fortunately, his Symphony No. 2 was well received at its premiere in 1908. However, its considerable length of sixty minutes was problematic. Within a decade, it fell out of favour and was only brought back to the repertoire in the 1940s, with considerable cuts, thanks to his friend, the double bassist, composer and conductor Serge Koussevitsky. Luckily, the full original version is now back in favour.
Jaime Martín’s reading of Rachmaninov’s Second Symphony was a lyrical one, emphasising the work’s melodically lush orchestration. Martín avoided excessive sentimentality in the first movement, Largo - Allegro moderato. It started with a heavy sense of brooding and finished with a sense of serene well‑being. The second movement, Allegro molto, was rhapsodic and exuded a sense of euphoria, paralleling Rachmaninoff’s liberation from self‑doubt and despair. The third movement, Adagio, was poetic and not overly sentimental. In the second and third movements, the Orquesta Nacional de Espana particularly revelled in Rachmaninoff’s rich orchestral textures. The finale, Allegro vivace, was passionately resplendent.
This was a richly rewarding evening, starting with a work replete with gravitas, and ending with one of euphoria, a veritable roller coaster of emotions, richly orchestrated. A testament to music’s enduring power, not only to astonish, but to heal.
Ossama el Naggar
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