Tonight (Saturday) I’m singing in my choir’s performance of *Die Jahreszeiten * (The Seasons), Haydn’s glorious oratorio, at the Opera House. We’ve been practising for six weeks and are looking forward to a great performance. Unfortunately ticket sales have been a bit slow. It’s always harder to entice an audience in the middle of winter and this work is not especially well known. We’re hoping for a late minute rush at the box office.
I’ll post a review on Monday morning.
I wish you good luck but I don’t see any way I can make it.
Is “break a leg” the right thing to say? Or just “Good Luck, Mate!” 
Sorry, dude, I can’t make it either! 
Last night’s performance went pretty well. I’d say overall it was about 8 out of 10. There were a few hairy moments in the first fugue when the tempo got completely out of control, but we absolutely nailed the very tricky “drunken fugue” in the wine chorus. And the audience was a respectable size too.
After singing in Latin, Hebrew, German, Elvish and Georgian this year, our next work finally brings a return to English. We’ll be doing three performances of Walton’s Henry V in August.
Congratulations!
Do you know all those languages, or just sing them?
**DrDeth ** - I understand Latin and I know a bit of German. I don’t know any Hebrew, Georgian or Elvish. When we sing in another language we usually get a translation of the words so that we understand what we’re singing. We also usually have special language rehearsals to make sure that we’re pronouncing the text correctly.
Here’s the review from today’s Sydney Morning Herald of our performance last Saturday night:
Warming fare, and not just for Winter
Die Jahreszeiten (The Seasons), Haydn
Sydney Philharmonia Choir
Mats Nilsson
Opera House, 10 July
Peter McCallum
It is a sad fact that when he came to write his last oratorio, The Seasons (1801), some of Haydn’s most inspired and expressive thoughts went into the orchestral introduction of the Winter music, depicting the onset of fog, cold, and, in Haydn’s case, old age and death.
“The Seasons has finished me off,” he later declared; he was to spend most of the remaining eight years of his life plagued by illness and too weak to write down the musical ideas which still scurried around his brain. But, characteristically, he had cheered himself up by the end of the piece with a folksy spinning chorus and thoughts of the afterlife. Whenever he thought of God, he said, it made him cheerful.
For the rest, Haydn was content to paint a series of charming, if more conventional, tableaux.
Working with a trite text, parts of which he evidently found irritating (which had been assembled by his friend and supporter, Baron van Swieten) Haydn, for his last major work constructed some of his most naively pictorial music. The shape of each part is a short instrumental introduction followed by short solo and choral numbers leading to a central set piece, followed by solo dialogues to a final chorus. Thus Spring leads to a gentle pastoral, Summer to an electric storm, Autumn to a hunt and a drinking chorus, and Winter to a cosy spinning chorus enlivened by a moral tale of virtue rewarded and lasciviousness punished.
The Philharmonia’s chorus work, under Mats Nilsson, was precise with well-rounded balance. The fugues, such as at the close of Spring and Autumn (a “drunken fugue” as Haydn called it) were admirably even without harsh accent, though in one or two moments one could have tolerated lustier vigour.
The orchestra had moments of excellence from winds and fine open-air horn playing during the hunt scene, although the end was scrappy. Nilsson stresses fullness of sound, preferring to maintain ongoing continuity and flow over the inner cadences of phrases, sometimes diminishing their sense of question-answer dialogue. Haydn and van Swieten peopled the abstract world of nature’s realm with suitably simple peasants.
Sara Macliver as Hanne the farmer’s daughter sang, as always, with liquid purity, never more so than in the clear sustained notes full of expectant stillness over soft plucked strings just before the summer storm.
Overcoming earlier moments of anxiety over pitch, tenor David Hamilton opened wonderfully in the closing decorative passages of his agitated restless Winter aria, while Andrew Schroeder had serious solidity as Simon the farmer. Rich and warming winter fare.
And here’s another review of our concert from today’s (13.7.04) Australian. It’s harsher than the previous review in yesterday’s SMH. I think it makes some valid points, particularly regarding the sluggishness of the first half of the performance, but overall I think the concert was better than this review suggests.
Saved by the colours of Autumn (Australian 13.07.04)
Die Jahreszeiten (The Seasons), Haydn
Sydney Philharmonia Choir
Mats Nilsson
Opera House, 10 July
Murray Black
Haydn’s final oratorio, The Seasons, depicts the progress of the year in the rural world of his time with music that is joyous, dramatic and inventive. The problem with this uneven performance was that, too often, it lacked the spontaneity and warmth required to realise these qualities in the music.
The first half – Spring and Summer – was stolid and unimaginative, with sluggish tempos, poor balance and erratic playing from the Sydney Philharmonia orchestra, conducted by Mats Nilsson. While some of the purely orchestral passages were accomplished, others were indistinct and awkward.
At times, the accompaniments were loud and unsympathetic, with the soloists regularly drowned out by the combined forces of choir and orchestra.
From the lively introduction of Autumn, it was clear that a rejuvenation would take place in the second half. Balance and ensemble were much improved, tempos more urgent and the orchestral playing more alert and disciplined. Now the accompaniments were sympathetic and responsive, with the scampering strings, twittering woodwind flourishes and burnished brass adding interest and colour to the performance.
Soprano soloist Sara Macliver was the outstanding performer of the evening. With her pure, even and sweet-toned voice, she displayed tasteful vibrato, precise dynamic control and stylish characterisation. She took full advantage of all opportunities for virtuoso display, carrying off fast trills and runs with aplomb.
Baritone Andrew Schroeder sang with a forceful and resounding voice. His only drawback was a somewhat one-dimensional approach to characterisation. Despite glimpses of vocal beauty, tenor David Hamilton was the weakest of the soloists, being let down by a wavering tone, lack of finesse and uncertainty of purpose.
The choir was powerful and imposing in the climactic moments. Like Macliver, they were also capable of striking characterisations – the delightful hunting scene in Autumn, accompanied by brilliant horn solos, was particularly effective.
Had the entire concert been of this calibre, this could have been a rewarding performance.