Why is it, that I want to listen to the music of Rameau over and over again? To tell the truth, I think that in the past two years almost every day has begun or ended with Jean-Philippe Rameau. One of my colleagues even suggested he would reprogram my computer, so it would start playing Rameau by itself, saving me those few extra mouse clicks in the morning.

My addiction started with the operas Hippolyte et Aricie and Zoroastre as performed by Les Arts Florissants and William Christie. And at the moment I’m listening (again) to Tzimon Barto’s priceless A Basket of Wild Strawberries featuring Rameau’s exquisite Gigues, Allemandes and Sarabandes on a modern piano. Quite different from the recording of the same pieces by Christophe Rousset on harpsichord or even Alexandre Tharaud on a Steinway.

Tharaud is playing on his piano as if God actually would be Mr. Measurement himself. Which leaves us with the unfulfilled desire to the unexpectedly sweet strawberries of Tzimon Barto. I wouldn’t at all be suprised if he cried during the recording of his own cd. Actually, I do it all the time when I hear the seconds 21 to 25 of track 16 (Allemande in A Minor). The trill Barto plays there shocks me time and again.

Track 5 (Gigue en Rondeau) moves me so that I hold my breath, waiting for something to happen. And it does happen: this intense feeling of love, happiness, great loss and sadness, all at once. It all comes down timing, which is in a sense flirting with measurement. So, Tharaud was looking in the right direction, but he didn’t notice the subtly lifted eyebrow beckoning on the right and the delicate wink of the eye on the left. He had to catch his train, the poor boy. All of those heartbreaking moments… just missed because of awkward timing!

And there we are again: Les Tendres Plaintes, track 12… God, what is this music just divine. Rameau and me: it’s a never ending love story. Tzimon, when will you finally play your Rameau in Europe? We are waiting!

Ah! the hard life of a music journalist! Attending concerts, what a drag, and then producing something that is interesting, authoritative and educational to read, too. And here, finally, was a golden opportunity.

Last Saturday during the Utrecht Early Music Festival, the young mezzo-soprano Josè Maria Lo Monaco could step in for Sonia Prina for a dazzling Handel recital, with La Sfera Armoniosa and Mike Fentross. They changed the programme somewhat to include pieces Lo Monaco knew, resulting in a splendid array of hits: Venti turbini, Scherza infida, Cara Sposa, L’angue offese…

And she did marvellously well (while Prina, home on doctor’s instructions, listened to the live radio broadcast on Radio 4), adding Dido’s Lament by Purcell to the tasty mix. Why then must Mr. De Beer add complaints to his sparse praises – how she will probably be too expensive soon, and more fundamentally why a Festival like Utrecht isn’t the place to expect emotional concerts like this?

‘The combination of “stardom” and Utrecht isn’t a comfortable one. Repertoire and style are paramount, adding to this is not appreciated.’ And another, on a performance by the viol consort Phantasm: ‘Lesser Brits [than Purcell] such as Jenkins and Tomkins are of course just as easily embraced in Utrecht.’ When so many people embrace early music (or rather: Historically Informed Performance) and the fresh musicality the movement has enleashed, is it still necessary to belittle it just to prove a point that it was once at the fringe of the musical landscape? That landscape has changed fundamentally, and critics like Mr. De Beer now find themselves on the sidelines.

Find the complete review by Roland de Beer (in Dutch) here.

Not often is a performance at once such a success and such a disaster. Molière’s piece, The Imaginary Invalid, has been newly translated into Dutch for the maiden production of De Utrechtse Spelen – an ill-named troupe, with overtones more of the stadium (‘The Utrecht Games’) than the theatre – featuring some of the best comic acting talents the Netherlands has to offer. To name a few: Loes Luca as the nurse Toinette, Tjitske Reidinga (pictured) as Béline and Peter Blok as Béralde.

The text is a work of genius. Molière is funny, profound, irreverent and the translation succeeds in matching this layered wit with the actors’ skills. An excellent example is Ms. Luca, who is dryly funny whatever she says: lines like ‘I feel an Italian aria coming up’ are simply irresistible.

We would have wished, though, that she would have let the singing of this Italian aria to someone else. Molière’s text, a comédie-ballet, is interspersed with music by Marc-Antoine Charpentier – which, it should be noted, has not just recently been rediscovered, as the show’s creators insists. It is beautiful music and an integral part of the action. In this production, however, the performing actors are possibly the worst singers, their efforts reducing the songs and choruses to embarrassing and painful interludes.

This touches on a more difficult question: how to translate works from the past to a modern audience? Do you cling to source material and create a beautiful, if perhaps bloodless reflection, or do you venture out of the box to create something entirely new, and hopefully timeless. This production – staged by Jos Thie – ignored both directions and went for kitsch: utterly modern actors delivered a classic text dressed in faux-authentic robes. The result was a confusing mess, and a sad mockery of Baroque music. Either do it well, or don’t do it at all.

As soon as Roberta Invernizzi opens her mouth and sings just one tone out of nothing, you’re nailed to your chair. And while she gently increases the sound and starts the most subtle vibrato, you will be profoundly touched by her musical intensity.

But it’s not just her singing… There is something else, and you start wondering why you can’t stop listening to her with that blissful grin on your face. Maybe the programme booklet can explain? In her biography nothing than superlatives. She’s not only a great soprano, but she also studied double bass and piano. An allround musician. With her deeply coloured soprano voice she specialized in baroque and classical repertoire. And in the meantime she has sung with all the important conductors in all the important concert halls and opera houses with all the important ensembles. And according to Goldberg she is “one of the most sought after soloists in the field of early music”.

And still… it doesn’t explain everything. It’s her face. Maybe the best comparison is Emma Thompson in ‘The Remains of the Day’. Distinction in a weird combination with amenability and of course great kindness. Roberta doesn’t claim the beautiful music she is singing, no, she is giving it to you.

Do listen to her Stabat Mater with La Sfera Armoniosa and alto Sonia Prina, conducted by Mike Fentross, this afternoon at 1pm on: www.radio4.nl.

*grin*