The Vanishing Bridegroom is an opera by composer Judith Weir to a libretto by the composer from work edited by J. F. Campbell of Islay. Commissioned by the. British Youth Opera's resourceful and very thoroughly rehearsed production of The Vanishing Bridegroom, directed by Stuart Barker and.
Nor can I fault the conducting of the veteran James Holmes. So the fault must be laid squarely at the door of the composer and librettist, Judith Weir.
follow link This melange of three eerie Scottish folk tales was well received by some when it first appeared in , unlike her last offering, Miss Fortune, which was an awful flop at Covent Garden five years ago. The promising lyric soprano Alexandra Lowe above leading an enthusiastic young cast despite the depressing atmosphere of the evening. But to my ears, The Vanishing Bridegroom sounds too abrasive, and too relentless for pleasurable listening.
These gifted young singers deserve better.
The Peacock Theatre was well under half full. Opera companies desperately want to be more than merely a part of the heritage industry, endlessly putting on operas by dead people. The views expressed in the contents above are those of our users and do not necessarily reflect the views of MailOnline.
A half full theatre at The Vanishing Bridegroom English text. NMC D The eighty-five-minute opera consists of three parts, each based on a Scottish folk tale, woven together by the composer into a story-line of marriage and abandonment. Plots unfold obliquely, fairies are more menacing than charming, and the male voice dominates both musically and psychologically.
The Husband and the Friend set out. Loading comments… Trouble loading? BBC Singers. He ended the wedding Judith Weir. He's gone, he's gone part 1.
The CD booklet includes stage directions and notes for nearly every track, and are impossible to ignore if one is following the sung text. These blurbs, supposedly written by the composer, often contradict the atmosphere actually heard.
Skillful as her orchestral writing is, Weir often chooses high ranges that tax the singer. Our pledge must be cancelled.
Weir evokes the eerie Hill, a foreboding, magical place, with luminous, static orchestral fabric, the timpani overused elsewhere imparting an ominous feel, while a weird fairy chorus sings hypnotic commentary in Gaelic.