Now there’s a real danger here that I am going to stray into the realm of pompous rambling, but hey, if you can’t do that on your ‘blog, then where can you do it? In short, I’ve being trying to figure out how to improve my singing – or more specifically, my performing and therefore, after a suitable period of wine-induced navel-gazing, I have captured a few fairly random thoughts on the business which I now inflict on you, dear reader.

You’ve probably heard the question – “if a tree falls in the jungle and no-one is there to hear it, does it still make a noise?” Or perhaps the more recent version (which I prefer), “if a man says something and no woman hears him, is he still wrong?”

I don’t think for one moment that anyone seriously thinks a tree doesn’t make a sound when it falls in the jungle - although if you apply some aspects of quantum physics to the question, you might end up with some strange results (try asking Shrodinger’s cat!). But what about performance? You see, I contend that performance is not possible without an audience. For me, the interaction is a defining part of the whole experience which also guides my approach to performance. Performance, it seems to me, is fundamentally about communication: first, between composer and performer; then between performer and audience; and finally between audience and performer. Generally speaking feedback to the composer is rather more problematic unless you take the view that the great and good (but mainly long-deceased) cohort of classical composers look down on us from above, beaming with benevolent approval (or otherwise) at our efforts! So this view of performance leads me to the opinion that when I am performing, I am acting as an interpreter for the composer, librettist or poet (or possibly all three, which can make life difficult!). Now I could simply rely on the power of their writing to carry the day (indeed, many a poor artist has been saved by the quality of the material he is using), but the whole point about human communication, particularly when we are trying to express ideas or emotions, is that we use our whole body to communicate. Facial expressions, hand gestures, body movement (in other words, non-verbal communication) is hugely important and I remember reading somewhere (probably in Darwin’s The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals) about the extent to which we all rely on non-verbal communication in our every-day lives. Albert Merhabian’s famous experiment also seems to indicate that specifically when dealing with emotions, about 55% of the communication is non-verbal! Which is why I don’t subscribe to the school of static singing. I’ve been told that I tend to go too far the other way when performing, and this is a valid criticism which I am trying to address. Hopefully in doing so I can perform more successfully. (Note to self: Stop pacing around like an angst-ridden buffoon and doing demented windmill impressions when on stage.)

But what do we mean by a 'successful performance'? Is it just 'to sing something beautifully' (define 'beautifully'), to sing something with technical perfection, or is a successful performance one which communicates in the most effective manner possible the ideas and emotions that the original artists had tried to portray through their writing? Okay, it’s a leading question, but you see where I’m coming from. I will never sing as well as Pavarotti or even Paul Potts, so using all of my skills to communicate and interpret composers’ music is the best hope I have as an amateur of ever producing a really successful performance. But then some composers deliberately introduce ambiguity. That’s tough, because my interpretation could deny the audience the choice which the composer intended. Thankfully it’s not that common and being an amateur, I am allowed occasionally to play the “too difficult” trump card!

As my favourite genre is opera, I think I’m on fairly safe ground because most directors these days absolutely expect performers to put as much effort into non-verbal communication as they do into their singing. Only occasionally (when over-zealous direction has a singer performing complex gymnastic manoeuvres while delivering strings of faultless and sustained top c’s) do the requirements of singing and acting come into conflict. So there is no excuse: all-round successful performance (according to Guy Edwards) combines 'beautiful', technically perfect singing with a full range of non-verbal communication skills… and most crucially, engages the audience! I’m still trying, but at least I think I know where I’m trying to get to!

Now August is here (okay, not quite as this was written on 29 July 2008), all my orchestra and singing commitments have stopped until September and my diary suddenly isn’t as hectic as usual. You would think this would be cause for celebration, and of course, I am relishing the break as much as anyone, but I really look forward to rehearsals and whether it’s singing with the choir or opera groups or playing with the orchestra, rehearsals are also social events where I meet up with friends and like-minded folk. Singing lessons too are something of a treat and always eagerly anticipated. The prospect of nearly four weeks devoid of such interaction leaves me feeling just a bit deflated especially as a number of friends are heading off to summer schools.

Foolishly I left it too late this year to book up for a music summer school of any sort. I have previously attended the adult improvers’ courses at the Oxford Cello School during the summer and made some very good friends along the way who are all as nuts about playing ‘cello (and drinking wine) as I am. With my recently rediscovered passion for singing I would love to have done an opera course somewhere, but clearly I have missed the boat. Oh well, maybe next year! (Could anyone recommend a good opera course? I would love to do the sort of course where participants work up to a public recital or opera performance over a week!)

Anyway, I suppose summer will give me time to practice and to learn the huge amount of dialogue I have got (in both Merry Widow and The Magic Flute) as well as planning for future events. My good friend Vikki and I are hoping to do a spring charity recital of mainly opera arias and duets and we will need to start working on a programme (and an affordable venue) for that fairly soon. The summer might also create an opportunity to do some recording - maybe I can finally get around to putting some samples on my website(www.guyedwards.info) but then again, if the sun is shining and there’s a nice claret in the wine rack…

I must have been inspired when I persuaded Mrs Edwards that a trip to La Scala, Milan (12 July 2008) was a good idea even though the tickets (to see Puccini’s La Boheme) cost more than the GDP of a small country. Frankly, it was worth every penny - La Scala exceeded all my expectations. The building itself is not that impressive from the outside, but inside is a different story. I admit to being ‘blown away’ by the lavishly elegant auditorium with its plush stalls and six tiers of boxes all richly decorated in red and gold. The opulent and stylish decor extended to the ante-rooms where Milan’s glitterati gathered and provided us with a wonderful ‘people-watching’ experience.

From the moment the curtain rose, it was obvious that this was going to be special. Franco Zeffirelli’s wonderful, traditional staging took full advantage of the space provided by La Scala’s vast proscenium arch. Whether it was the drab Parisian garret apartment of the first and final acts, or the street scene or Enfer City Gate of the middle acts, the attention to detail was amazing. This was truly a window into another time and place.

Fabio Sartori as Rudolfo, looked and sounded quite like a young Pavarotti and endeared himself to the audience from the start with his warmth, gentle humour and great voice. The orchestra, under maestro Gustavo Dudamel seemed a little over-powering at first, but settled down to a much better balance by the time Rudolfo sang ‘Che gelida manina’. Perhaps I have spent too many hours listening to Pavarotti taking liberties with this famous aria, but I felt that perhaps a little more could have been made of it – for instance, though the climax was beautifully and effortlessly delivered, it was gone in a flash and I regretted that Sartori had not lingered for just a little longer on his wonderfully mellow top ‘c’. Svetlana Vassileva as Mimi provided a perfect match for Sartori, combining dignity with vulnerability in a way that produced pure pathos. Sadly, I do not speak Italian, but even I could appreciate her wonderful diction – this was especially evident in her opening aria, ‘Si, mi chiamano Mimi’. All of the superbly-acted characters possessed real tenderness, passion and all-too-human flaws and frailties, making it easy to care for their plight.

The staging for Act II (in the Latin Quarter) was spectacular with scenes reminiscent of Renoir’s Ball at the Moulin de la Galette. The depth and height of La Scala’s stage allowed for a fabulously three-dimensional scene with a market (and later, Cafe Momus) in the foreground nestled below a bustling Parisian street on a higher level. Again the realism was breathtaking – never more so than when Musetta, (played to coquettish perfection by Nina Machiadze) and Alcindoro (Matteo Peirone), arrived at Cafe Momus in a in full-size horse-drawn carriage! The visual feast continued into Act III which transported us to a snowy scene by the city gates, snowflakes gently falling as a prelude to the wonderful scene and quartet where Mimi and Rudolfo are tenderly making-up while Marcello (Luca Salsi) and Musetta are squabbling and name-calling!

And so to the final scene. Even if you don’t know the story, it’s pretty obvious from the outset where this is going and yet Puccini’s setting of Illica and Giacosa’s libretto, still has the power the reduce the audience to tears. Each and every one of the characters perfectly captured the emotion surrounding the miserable end to Mimi’s unfortunate life. Somehow, knowing that Mimi is dead even before Rudolfo does, places you right there in the dingy garret with the characters, sharing their ghastly realization - and then, feeling with Rudolfo the final bitterness and despair of his loss.

Thankfully, as is the way with all opera, Mimi made a fantastic recovery in time to take a well-deserved curtain-call and, amid rapturous applause, Sartori looked genuinely overwhelmed and surprised by the audience’s obvious affection for him! The other artistes, all delivering flawless performances, were: Massimo Cavalletti (Schaunard), Giorgio Guiseppini (Colline), and Domenico Colaianni (Benoit).

I admit to running out of superlatives to describe this performance. All I can say is that La Scala’s reputation for excellence is well-deserved if this performance is anything to go by. I am considering taking out a second mortgage for a return visit. You only live once, after all (unless you’re an opera singer).

It’s been quite a busy week really with lots of rehearsals to attend and, on Thursday evening, I went along to the Wyvern Theatre again to see a musical comedy act by a group of three instrumentalists called “Pluck”.  They were very funny (which is just as well for a comedy act) and their 'cellist in particular gave me some ideas I might want to try out in the orchestra – but only when maestro’s attentions are elsewhere! One sequence in particular (set to Mozart's requiem) had me in stitches - I just hope I can get rid of the images in my mind before I next hear the Requiem performed seriously!

Last night (Saturday 5 July 2008) the Wessex Concert Orchestra performed the opening concert for this year’s Lea Festival (Musicalea) in St Giles’ Church, Lea.  It was lovely to play to a full house – even if the venue wasn’t huge, but at least the orchestra didn’t outnumber the audience!

At times, perhaps the familiarity with the music worked against us allowing us to indulge a little too freely (much to the annoyance of Maestro!).  The acoustic was not brilliant either.  Unusually for a church of it's age, St Giles' is carpeted! Anyway, the concert finished with another old favourite namely Vasily Solovyov-Sedoy’s Podmoskovnye Vechera (Moscow Nights) in a gorgeous arrangement by Katherine Punwar. This piece is a real favourite and seems to get better every time we perform it. Of course, I’m biased in the matter because it has a fabulous 'cello part. Talking of which, our ‘cello section has been shuffled about to give our most recent addition a more experienced hand as a desk partner - which means that I have moved forward to the “front desk”. The discipline will be good for me and as I now play “on the inside” (I really will have to concentrate more on my bowing and avoid the occasional lapses into “upside-down” bowing which risk my poking our lead 'cellist with my bow.  She’s very understanding, but I wouldn’t want to upset her!). 
We now have quite a healthy ‘cello section, which is more than can be said for the violas. We had to borrow a few violists for this concert.  So, if you know of any violists who would like to play concert repertoire – get them to e-mail me!  They can always have a look at the (soon to be redesigned and updated) WCO website at www.wco.org.uk if they want to find out more about the WCO first!  And on the subject of updating websites, I’ve made a few changes to my own recently which you can see at www.guyedwards.info.

I’ve heard it said that Swindon is a cultural desert, but if last night’s performance (27 June 2008) of Carmen by Swindon Opera is anything to go by, the tag is looking very dated indeed! Carmen marked a spectacular and welcome return of a rejuvenated Swindon Opera to the Wyvern Theatre. And I do mean rejuvenated: the publicity for this production made much of the fact that it was a “young and exciting cast” and the energy and vibrancy, so essential for Carmen, was evident from the start. The team at Swindon Opera deserve a huge pat on the back for this production. Director Maria Jagusz produced a visually stunning Carmen and the cast really brought it to life. There was ample attention to detail with background vignettes enhancing the splendidly rich and colourful texture of the main action and this was complemented by some high-energy choreography courtesy of Jane Hockaday. Musically too, this was a first-rate production under the musical direction of Malcolm Webb. The orchestra (unlike the original orchestra at the Opera Comique) found the music quite manageable and played with a fine sense of ensemble. There were only a few minor disconnects between orchestra and singers (which considering the frenetic activity on stage was probably to be expected!).

Melanie Lang as Carmen was sizzling, sultry and sexy and more importantly sang and acted the part superbly well – a real tour de force. Aiden Smith was animated and impressive as the toreador, Escamillo and although he sang the part well, I had expected an even bigger voice! Christopher Jacobsen, another import, produced some flashes of brilliance as Don Jose, but never convinced me that he had the passion to commit the ultimate crime passionel. At times too, he fought a losing battle with the orchestra – particularly, it seems, when he was distant from the stage microphones.

Which brings me to amplification. I know that these days, it is not uncommon for even top-rate opera companies to use some amplification and with so many immature voices in the performance, it was probably a wise decision to use it here. Nevertheless, I still lament its necessity particularly as there were times when the audience was treated to some high-pitch feedback and Carmen’s entry in the card trio (“Melons! Coupons!”) suffered from echoing sound which, for me, spoilt what should have been a real highlight. Thankfully the following ensemble (the quintet and chorus ‘Treasure Scene’) proved to be a real gem. The voices were beautifully blended and the scene was elegantly put together with action seamlessly complementing the singing. Indeed, some of the finest moments in this production were delivered by those in the supporting roles such as Frasquita (Leigh Coggins), Le Dancairo (Toby Girling) and Lillas Pastia (Owen Hopkins), Morales (Conor Collins) and especially El Remendado (Carl Malmgren). Malmgren had a stage presence like no other – almost stealing every scene in which he appeared. A “natural” on stage, he seemed totally immersed in his role and so very watchable - and his voice was also superb. He is currently studying with Adrian Thompson at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama – but his is a name to watch out for in future! Emma Noakes played the long-suffering Micaela with real poignancy and her aria in Act III, was beautifully delivered.

With so much imported talent on show, Swindon Opera may have lost some of its “local appeal” but the mix was an undoubted success – and on this occasion, Carmen was a clever choice of opera, with its children’s chorus and dancers undoubtedly attracting a “friends and family” audience element, many of whom were possibly newcomers to opera. The dancers added a certain vibrancy and colour to the production but facial expressions were all a bit fixed even in some of the wilder, exciting dances. It was pleasing to see some local talent being show-cased too and all deserve a special mention: Catherine Welch (a Swindon Opera regular) played a wonderfully vexed Manuelita, Neil Gray was an impressively authoritative Zuniga and Michelle Williams made a haughtily flirtatious Mercedes. The young bugler, Beatrice Kinsey, also deserves a special mention – she did very well indeed for one so young!

I struggled at times with the diction (I think I probably understood less than fifty percent of the sung words) so it was just as well that I was familiar with the opera! For those new to opera, this must have been a turn-off, but overall, this was a dazzling success for the resurgent Swindon Opera. I just hope that the high level of imported talent and good audience support is sustainable. The unsung heroes of this endeavour are the folk who brought together such a high-octane team. This was without doubt a triumph of note. Well done Swindon Opera!

This week (25 June 2008) sees the much anticipated (at least by me!) release of the Wessex Male Choir’s second CD “Shades of Wessex”. The first thing that strikes me about this CD (which we recorded back in April) is that it is far from being a typical male voice choir product. There’s a real mix of music on it and most is not what people expect, but then, the Wessex Male Choir is hardly a “traditional” male-voice choir. Under the inspirational leadership of musical director, Robert Elliott, the Choir has forged a reputation for putting together some varied and entertaining programmes. It is no accident that the choir was invited to sing at Westminster Cathedral and the Bath Forum (as a supporting act for Hayley Westenra) in 2007 and was the top-placed UK male choir in the 2006 International Eisteddfod, as well as winning the Gold Cup in this year’s Cheltenham Music Festival (not to be confused with the Cheltenham Gold Cup race-meeting – ‘hoarse’ members are not allowed in the Choir!). The Choir will also be heading the bill at this year’s PDS Christmas Concert in London in Westminster Central Hall where the audience is likely to exceed 2000.

So what of the CD? Now the first thing to remember is that you are not listening to professional singers, but that said (and of course I am biased) I think the CD is good both in terms of its varied content and generally in its production quality. The challenge for such a recording is to capture a sense of the dynamism for which the Choir is rightly renowned. Overall, I think the album succeeds in this even though it cannot reproduce the magical rapport between audience and choir that is so evident in live performance.

In terms of content, three of the items were recorded at the Llangollen International Eisteddfod in 2006 and the recording quality is not as “clean” as it could be – I think this is a particular problem in O Sacrum Convivium (an a capella TTBB arrangement of the work by Spanish sixteenth century composer Tomas Luis de Vittorio) where the lower voices seem to swamp the tenor lines and the result sounds mushy – particularly in the first half of the piece.

The added instrumental scoring on some tracks certainly enhances the musical texture and by comparison, there are times when the piano (beautifully played by accompanists Mary New and Christine Williams) sounds just a little bit inadequate. The light-hearted El Capotin is a fun piece delivered in an energetic and anarchic fashion by the Choir in mock-Mexican mode in the concert hall - complete with guitars, maracas, unfeasibly large false moustaches, ponchos and the most bizarre collection of sombreros you will ever see! But as a stand-alone musical item on the CD, I’m not sure El Capotin works - although it still has plenty of energy. (Incidentally, performing this number during the recent Cricklade Festival, I accidentally smacked my maraccas together (oooh err, missus!) and the resulting split sent rice grains flying all over the stage!).

I expect everyone who listens to the CD will have a favourite track (and probably some tracks they don’t like – this is inevitable given the wide variety of styles and musical genres on the CD). For my favourite track, I cannot decide between Pavel Chesnokov’s beautiful orthodox communion hymn, Spaseniye Sodelal (lovely controlled finish!) and the passion of Do You Hear the People Sing from Les Miserables. Verdi’s Anvil Chorus (complete with ‘anvil’) is another favourite, and I admit that I have become a reluctant admirer of the emotional American tribute to the fallen, Blades of Grass and Pure White Stones. Perhaps the sentimentality of this piece touches me because I have lost quite a few friends and colleagues over the years. Traditionalists will not be disappointed with the Choir’s rendition of Deus Salutis (O Iesu Mawr) sung in Welsh to a lovely setting of the tune Llef. With hits by Sinatra and McFly as well as negro spirituals, there is probably something for everyone on this CD.

The album works well as a showcase for the Choir but it is hard to see how it will have appeal outside those who have heard the Choir sing (which is a pity). Nevertheless, given the very wide audience that the Choir now reaches, CD sales promise to be strong. For information about how to get hold of a copy, please go to the Wessex Male Choir website at www.wessexmalechoir.co.uk.

Last Sunday (15 June 2008), I was lucky enough to take part in a singing Masterclass in Bristol with American Tenor, Chris Swanson. This was another “first” for me (this year seems to producing quite a few) and to be honest I wasn’t sure what to expect. The format was pretty simple: there were ten students, each of whom had prepared two pieces and we each sang one in the morning and one in the afternoon. In the time available (which worked out at about 15 minutes per song) Chris could only pick a particular aspect of each performance to work on and this provided the vehicle for his teaching.

Thankfully, Chris is one of those guys you instantly warm to – and you sense immediately that he knows what he’s talking about – so this took any stress out of the event, although I still get slightly nervous when singing in front of people. I was amazed at the difference he made to our performances. After working on a section of song for even a short time, without exception he coaxed us into making real improvements.

In the morning, I sang “Ich Grolle Nicht” from Schumann’s Dichterliebe Song Cycle and we worked on maintaining the energy beyond the top A. In the afternoon I sang Flotow’s “M’Appari, Tutt’Amor” and we worked on ‘letting go’ in the climactic passages in order to achieve a much more open sound. I tend to flap around like a demented penguin when I’m singing and move about far too much, so Chris got me to stand still and channel that energy into the singing instead. All agreed that the resulting performance was an improvement.

When I’m on stage and performing, I think I lose half of my brain (it’s why I have to rehearse a piece to death before I’m confident enough to perform it) and this also means that in the Masterclass, I learnt more by watching the other students (when the spotlight isn’t on you, it’s easier to absorb information).

To be honest, I had worried that the Masterclass might be just a little bit “competitive” but my concerns were unfounded. It would be hard to find a friendlier bunch of folk and of course, we were all there because of our shared passion for music and our personal quests to improve our singing. With Chris’s help, we learnt a lot from each other. So, was the experience worthwhile? Absolutely, and I hope to get along to his next Masterclass if he returns next year.

If you want to know more about who I am, then please take a look at my homepage which is at www.guyedwards.info

Now, I'm not sure why I think I need a blog, but here goes...

I wanted to start with a review of the opera, La Traviata, staged by Ellen Kent at the Bristol Hippodrome back in February 2008. Opera is one of my great passions and La Traviata is probably one of my favourite operas, so this was too good a chance to miss!

Review: La Traviata – Bristol Hippodrome 28 Feb 08 – Ukrainian National Opera

As with all of Ellen Kent’s lavish crowd-pleasing productions, Verdi’s La Traviata at the Bristol Hippodrome (28 February) proved to be a sumptuously rich mix of beautifully performed music and elegant, traditional costumary and sets. The result was a memorable night at the opera and if we needed reminding why this is such a popular opera, then this performance by the Ukrainian National Opera gave the answer.

Maria Tsonina sang the role of Parisian courtesan Violetta, whose tragic and inappropriate love affair with aristocratic Alfredo, causes angst to his family. The duet in which Alfredo’s father Giorgio, superbly sung by Vladimir Dragos, entreats with Violetta to leave Alfredo for the sake of his family was one of the most poignant and well-acted moments of the opera. Indeed, Dragos’ rich baritone voice was delightful and well-balanced throughout, powerful yet never overpowering. His impassioned plea to Alfredo to return with him to the family home in Provence (Di Provenza il Mar) was full of warmth and richness of tone.

Ruslan Zinevych’s Alfredo was also very well sung although occasionally a very Neapolitan and unnecessary use of portamento distracted slightly from the clean line of the music. For me, his finest hour came in the scene where, believing that Violetta has abandoned him in favour of her old lifestyle, he publicly humiliates the woman who adores him, by throwing money at her during her friend’s society party. Here, the emotion was raw, the singing at its dramatic best, and the acting thoroughly well executed – even by Zinevych, who in some earlier scenes had appeared rather stiff.

I think this Traviata will be particularly well-remembered for Tsonina’s superbly-acted and thoroughly engaging Violetta with whom the audience easily empathized and who delighted us with her sweet tone. Her deft touch in the coloratura passages was a joy to hear and her clarity and delivery was invariably excellent.

The final act, in which Alfredo and Violetta are finally reconciled, was full of the pathos and tenderness we expect from La Traviata, without becoming overly sentimental. Perhaps the stage direction was a little exuberant here, somewhat stretching the audience’s belief that Violetta’s death was imminent, but the denouement lost none of its impact as a consequence.

Ellen Kent knows how to please and if the quality and standard of this performance is anything to go by, future productions are well worth seeing.