L'enigme eternelle -- vocal music inspired by Jewish themes

Regina Nathan, Liane Keegan, Stuart Kale, Gavin Carr

Stuart Gilmore, piano

This fascinating concert was built around a new work, Not afraid, by
Michael Finnissy, which recalls the battle of Cable Street in 1936, not far
from Spitalfields. The "battle" was a confrontation in which local people
prevented Oswald Moseley's British Union of Fascists from marching through
the area. Finnissy combined extracts from documents and eyewitness reports,
spoken by the pianist, with a traditional setting of verses from psalm 29
("Lord give strength to your people, Lord bless your people with peace") in
Hebrew and English, sung by baritone Gavin Carr at the same time.

I felt that the spoken part didn't quite get done justice because Stuart
Gilmore, although he projected well, had to pay too much attention to the
piano part. A speaker able to pay complete attention could probably have
got the drama of the confrontation over more effectively. And I wonder
whether the actual tapes of eyewitness accounts, or taped reconstructions
by actors, wouldn't be more effective still. The words alone don't quite
have the verisimilitude needed.

The themes of persecution and stoicism, as well as the Jewish musical
tradition, were explored interestingly in the rest of the programme. The
first part consisted of Ravel's setting of the Kaddish and of the Yiddish
riddle of the title, Das irdische Leben from Des Knaben Wunderhorn and St
Antony's sermon to the fishes (bitingly sung by Liane Keegan), by Mahler
and Shostakovich's From Jewish fold poetry. St Antony, a satire on
complacency, and the final "optimistic" songs in the Shostakovich also
brought out the recurring theme of specious and real optimism, and the need
for both.

This last theme of optimism and survival became central in the mainly
American songs in the final part of the concert.

There was a small error of judgement in putting the raucously rude (and
funny) Schickelgruber between two of Weill's best elegaic songs for
soprano, Ich bin eine arme Verwandte from Der Silbersee, and Youkali. The
audience assumed that it was a set of three (as it was staged) but
Schickelgruber brought the house down, and Regina Nathan did well to get
the torchy mood back for Youkali.

Irving Berlin's Yiddisha Nightingale had a performance in the Jolson mode
by Stuart Kale, and was essentially just a bit of fun; "I'd give a dollar
to hear you, my queen/But I wouldn't give a nickel to hear Tetrazzini". The
Gershwins' I'll build a stairway to heaven (I've got the blues/I've got the
shoes) and It's a lovely day tomorrow worked out different kinds of
optimism in the face of difficulty or despair -- escape into dance and
music, or simple escalation of the small bright things in life. Gavin Carr,
who tried hard but looked unconvincing in the Ravel and Shostakovich put
It's a lovely day tomorrow over impeccably, and movingly. Liane Keegan, who
should play the Old Lady in a production, did a very funny I am easily
assimilated, from Candide, illustrating the ironic possibilities as well as
the harsh necessity of the need to adapt and deceive to survive. The
encore, Tomorrow's gonna be perfect, from Sondheim's Follies, was an even
more complex and amusing exploration of the workings of optimism.

London Voice Works, directed by tonight's pianist, Scott Gilmore, is a new
ensemble that seems to want to be The Songmaker's Almanac for music
theatre. This first concert laid out their stall pretty well, I thought,
with singers delivering art song and music theatre effectively in a
well-considered programme. Future (possible) projects include, it says
here, Poppea and Queen of Spades at the Bridewell next year, a programme
pairing Berlioz's Irlande and a new commissioned work about contemporary
Ireland, to be performed in London, Dublin and Belfast in autumn 1999, and
O.W., a new opera by Michael Finnissy based on the life and works of Oscar
Wilde, for spring 2000.