Les nuits d'été

Dear Festival Visitor

 

For the past few months, we have cherished the hope that in March 2022 we would organise
a live festival once again. Today this dream really has become reality. It is with enormous
pleasure that we welcome you, our public, to Klarafestival once again, the biggest broadcast
festival in the country.

Enjoying music has always been a collective experience. We have all recently felt just
how music today continues to fulfil this role in society. Concert halls are meeting places,
collective listening posts where together we can celebrate, be amazed, make discoveries.
Precisely that physical togetherness has inspired the motto for this edition: ‘Let’s stick together’.

With no less than 25 concerts in Brussels, Antwerp and Bruges, we present an equally diverse programme this year. As always, we bring the music world’s absolute best to Flanders, like piano legend Maurizio Pollini, the Bavarian State Orchestra and the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment. Come and listen to musical monuments such as Bach’s St John Passion, Campra’s Requiem or Stravinsky's Violin Concerto in D. But at Klarafestival you’ll just as well discover something new. Thus we have a youthful artistic team tackling Schnittke’s ballet Peer Gynt, director Luigi De Angelis takes on the music of Scarlatti, Pärt and Andriessen, and Les Tanneurs conjure up an artificial beach for the opera-performance Sun & Sea.

For the first time, Klarafestival is introducing a festival artist who will occupy a central place in our programme. This year the honour falls to the internationally acclaimed Belgian tenor, Reinoud Van Mechelen – perhaps you heard him, on 12 March in Bozar, with his ensemble a nocte temporis and the Chamber Choir of Namur; or quite possibly you were present the previous day, when he surprised chance passers-by in Brussels Central Station. He makes his
symphonic debut tonight, together with the Brussels Philharmonic Orchestra. They present
three 19th century works that each found their inspiration in the wondrous, literary world of
William Shakespeare. In the programmatic concerto overture Le Roi Lear, Berlioz depicts the
old king from Shakespeare’s drama as he slowly loses his mind. 10 years later, Berlioz wrote a work, again perhaps referencing Shakespeare: Les nuits d’été. This song cycle on texts by Gautier explores the different stages of love, from ecstasy to misery. Mendelssohn too was inspired by Shakespeare’s celebrated comedy A Midsummer Night’s Dream and set it to music, delivering a spectacular fairy-tale world – a trance within which love undisturbed can weave its magic.

 

Joost Fonteyne
director of Klarafestival

Under Shakespeare’s spell

 

Berlioz’s overture to King Lear and the song cycle Les nuits d’été

During his stay in Rome, Hector Berlioz (1803 – 1869) received news that made him seethe with anger. His betrothed, the pianist Camille Moke, had apparently taken advantage of his absence to get married to the wealthy piano dealer Camille Pleyel. Armed with two pistols and a flask of poison, Berlioz hurried back to Paris, determined to exact revenge. However, the journey home was a long one and along the way Berlioz’s anger died down. Between Rome and Florence, he read William Shakespeare’s tragedy, King Lear, which quickly replaced plans for bloody vengeance in his imagination. In Nice, he abandoned the homeward journey and began work on a concert overture that masterfully captured the essence of King Lear.     

 

Berlioz wrote no explanatory note to Le roi Lear, op. 4 (1831) but expected his listeners (as he indicated in his memoirs) to be familiar with the tale. The mythical King Lear divides his kingdom between the two daughters who most flatter him, Goneril and Regan. His youngest daughter, Cordelia, refuses to play this game. As punishment, she is disinherited and banished from his kingdom. When Lear realises that Goneril and Regan are misusing their newfound power to betray their father, the aging king gradually goes insane. Eventually, his banished daughter speeds to his rescue with an army, but to no avail. They lose the battle, with fatal results for the king and his three daughters. The lower strings announce the arrival of King Lear with a majestic motif that returns during the overture, while the innocent, dancing oboes evoke the virtuous Cordelia. Towards the end, Berlioz depicts the madness of the aged king in an unusually theatrical manner, after which Lear’s motif disintegrates and the music exhales its last breath.

 

Ten years later, Berlioz would compose a six-part song cycle with texts by his friend and neighbour, the poet Théophile Gautier. It is uncertain from where Berlioz drew the title of Les nuits d’été, op. 7. In any event, it was no allusion to Gautier’s poems, which definitely relate to spring and not to summer. A possible explanation is that Berlioz was again referencing his great hero William Shakespeare, and his celebrated comedy A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Le songe d’une nuit d’été in French). Whilst Gautier’s poetry was not conceived as a unit, Berlioz forged the six songs into a single narrative with an all-encompassing theme: love. 

 

The first song, ‘Vilanelle’, is a celebration of naive, young love, which Berlioz evokes with spring-fresh woodwinds and a nimble rhythm. ‘Le spectre de la rose’ that follows is utterly romantic, with caressing harps, languorous vocal lines and delectable trills from the violins. In the third movement, ‘Sur les lagunes’, the first, bitter tears are shed. The low register and the slight harmonic changes evoke the ambience of a forlorn lament. Part of the poem is based on a Venetian folk song in which a fisherman laments the loss of his sweetheart. In ‘Absence’, which seems to follow almost seamlessly, the protagonist begs for the return of his beloved. Experiencing a broken heart engenders tears in abundance. Thus, the fifth song, ‘Au cimetière’, is again a lament. The beloved is now no more than a vague memory: “une ombre, une forme angélique [qui] passe dans un rayon tremblant, en voile blanc.” Berlioz concludes the song cycle with the unexpectedly exuberant ‘L’Île inconnue’. Whilst the orchestra creates the musical expression of rippling water and a rising breeze, the seaman dreams of the unknown (and, suggests Gautier, non-existent) island, where true, everlasting love prevails.  

 

Mendelssohn’s incidental music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream  

Like Berlioz, Felix Mendelssohn (1809 – 1847) was throughout his life fascinated by England’s greatest writer. After the 17-year-old Mendelssohn had devoured Shakespeare’s plays, he reported to his sister in July 1826 that he would soon begin “dreaming of A Midsummer Night’s Dream”. Less than a month later, the young composer completed the fresh and fantasy-rich concert overture that has become one of his best-known orchestral works. 16 years later, Mendelssohn would again be inspired by Shakespeare’s celebrated comedy. This time, his inspiration didn’t take the form of a single-piece overture, but of a large-scale multi-part work. The composition was commissioned by King Frederik Willem IV who, like Mendelssohn, harboured a great love for A Midsummer Night’s Dream and wished to stage the comedy at the court in Potsdam. For the occasion, he asked the composer to provide the play with music from beginning to end. Mendelssohn’s incidental music consists of at least 14 movements and includes both vocal and instrumental sections. The purely instrumental movements, when performed consecutively, form an enchanting suite.  

 

The suite opens with the concert overture Ein Sommernachtstraum, op. 21, which Mendelssohn wrote in his youth. Franz Liszt described the beginning and end of the overture as “eyelids closing and opening, between which a wonderful dream world is portrayed”. And indeed, after the four opening chords from the wind section, the various characters who people Shakespeare’s dreamlike play pass by: The dancing fairies (represented by scurrying strings), the four Athenian lovers (lyrically portrayed by the woodwinds) and the braying ass Bottom, amusingly imitated by the bellowing orchestra. In the sparkling ‘Scherzo’ that follows, woodwinds and strings flutter sprightly in a whirling dance. After the mysterious, tension-filled ‘Intermezzo’, the fourth movement, the ‘Nocturne’, begins with a beautiful solo by the French horn. Doubled by the bassoons and later accompanied by strings, the four lovers are rocked gently to sleep. The fifth movement is the familiar ‘Hochzeitsmarsch’ that Mendelssohn composed to celebrate the many weddings at the end of the play. The wedding march would only become hugely popular in 1842, 16 years after the premiere, when Princess Victoria and “Fritz”, the crown prince and nephew of Frederic Willem IV, had it performed at their royal wedding. After the parodic funeral march (‘Marcia funebre’), the suite ends with ‘Ein Tanz von Rüpeln’ (a dance by the clowns). Together the party guests dance the Bergamask, a rustic folk dance that, in part thanks to Bottom’s joyful braying, makes the wedding feast complete.

Thierry Fischer

Thierry Fischer has been Music Director of the São Paulo Symphony since 2020 and of the Utah Symphony since 2009, becoming Music Director Emeritus in 2023. He was Principal Guest of the Seoul Philharmonic (2017–2020) and Chief Conductor of the Nagoya Philharmonic (2008–2011, now Honorary Guest Conductor). Whilst Principal Conductor of the BBC National Orchestra of Wales (2006-2012), Fischer appeared every year at the BBC Proms, toured internationally, and recorded for Hyperion, Signum and Orfeo.

 

Reinoud Van Mechelen

The Belgian tenor Reinoud Van Mechelen has very rapidly built himself an international career. In 2017 he won the prestigious Caecilia prize for Young Musician of the Year. Today he regularly shares the stage with renowned baroque ensembles such as the Collegium Vocale Gent, Le Concert Spirituel and Hespèrion XXI. As an opera singer he has interpreted, among others, the title role in Rameau’s Pygmalion, Tamino (The Magic Flute), Nadir (The Pearl Fishers) and Ferrando (Così fan tutte). In 2016 he set up the a nocte temporis ensemble.

 

Brussels Philharmonic

The Brussels Philharmonic was founded in 1935 by the Belgian public broadcaster (INR/NIR). The orchestra is known to be a pioneer in performing contemporary music – a reputation that brought world-renowned composers such as Bartók, Stravinsky and Messiaen to Brussels. To this day, the Brussels Philharmonic is continuing this tradition, including a 21st-century work in almost every concert programme. The orchestra rehearses and performs in Flagey in Brussels, which serves as its home base for concerts in Belgium and the rest of the world.

Les nuits d’été, Op. 7 

 

I Villanelle

Quand viendra la saison nouvelle,

Quand auront disparu les froids,

Tous les deux, nous irons, ma belle,

Pour cueillir le muguet aux bois.

Sous nos pieds égrenant les perles,

Que l’on voit au matin trembler,

Nous irons écouter les merles,

Nous irons écouter les merles

Siffler.

 

Le printemps est venu, ma belle ;

C’est le mois des amants béni,

Et l’oiseau, satinant son aile,

Dit des vers au rebord du nid.

Oh ! viens donc sur ce banc de mousse,

Pour parler de nos beaux amours,

Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce,

Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce :

Toujours !

 

Loin, bien loin, égarant nos courses,

Faisons fuir le lapin caché,

Et le daim, au miroir des sources,

Admirant son grand bois penché !

Puis, chez nous, tout heureux, tout aises,

En paniers, enlaçant nos doigts,

Revenons, rapportant des fraises,

Revenons, rapportant des fraises

Des bois !

 

[EN]

When the new season comes,

When the cold has gone,

We two will go, my sweet,

To gather lilies-of-the-valley in the woods;

Scattering as we tread the pearls of dew

We see quivering each morn,

We’ll go and hear the blackbirds

Sing!

Spring has come, my sweet;

It is the season lovers bless,

And the birds, preening their wings,

Sing songs from the edge of their nests.

Ah! Come, then, to this mossy bank

To talk of our beautiful love,

And tell me in your gentle voice:

Forever!

Far, far away we’ll stray from our path,

Startling the rabbit from his hiding-place

And the deer reflected in the spring,

Admiring his great lowered antlers;

Then home we’ll go, serene and at ease,

And entwining our fingers basket-like,

We’ll bring back home wild

Strawberries!

 

 

II Le spectre de la rose

Soulève ta paupière close

Qu’effleure un songe virginal !

Je suis le spectre d’une rose,

Que tu portais hier au bal.

Tu me pris, encore emperlée

Des pleurs d’argent de l‘arrosoir,

Et, parmi la fête étoilée,

Tu me promenas,

Tu me promenas

Tout le soir.

 

Ô toi, qui de ma mort fus cause,

Sans que tu puisses le chasser,

Toutes les nuits mon spectre rose

À ton chevet viendra danser.

Mais ne crains rien, je ne réclame

Ni messe ni De Profundis.

Ce léger parfum est mon âme,

Ce léger parfum est mon âme,

Et j’arrive, j’arrive du paradis,

J’arrive, j’arrive du paradis.

 

Mon destin fut digne d’envie,

Et, pour avoir un sort si beau,

Plus d’un aurait donné sa vie,

Car sur ton sein j’ai mon tombeau,

Et sur l’albâtre où je repose

Un poète, avec un baiser,

Écrivit : « Ci-gît une rose,

Que tous les rois vont jalouser. »

 

[EN]

Open your eyelids,

Brushed by a virginal dream;

I am the spectre of a rose

That yesterday you wore at the dance.

You plucked me still sprinkled

With silver tears of dew,

And amid the glittering feast

You wore me all evening long.

O you who brought about my death,

You shall be powerless to banish me:

The rosy spectre which every night

Will come to dance at your bedside.

But be not afraid – I demand

Neither Mass nor De Profundis;

This faint perfume is my soul,

And I come from Paradise.

My destiny was worthy of envy;

And for such a beautiful fate,

Many would have given their lives –

For my tomb is on your breast,

And on the alabaster where I lie,

A poet with a kiss

Has written: Here lies a rose

Which every king will envy.

 

 

III Sur les lagunes

Ma belle amie est morte,

Je pleurerai toujours ;

Sous la tombe elle emporte

Mon âme et mes amours.

Dans le ciel, sans m’attendre,

Elle s’en retourna ;

L’ange qui l’emmena

Ne voulut pas me prendre.

Que mon sort est amer !

Ah ! sans amour, s’en aller sur la mer !

 

La blanche créature

Est couchée au cercueil !

Comme dans la nature

Tout me paraît en deuil !

La colombe oubliée

Pleure, pleure et songe à l'absent,

Mon âme pleure et sent

Qu’elle est dépareillée.

Que mon sort est amer !

Ah ! sans amour, s’en aller sur la mer !

 

Sur moi la nuit immense

S’étend comme un linceul ;

Je chante ma romance

Que le ciel entend seul.

A, comme elle était belle

Et comme je l’aimais !

Je n’aimerai jamais

Une femme autant qu’elle.

Que mon sort est amer !

Ah ! sans amour, s’en aller sur la mer !

 

[EN]

My dearest love is dead:

I shall weep for evermore;

To the tomb she takes with her

My soul and all my love.

Without waiting for me

She has returned to Heaven;

The angel who took her away

Did not wish to take me.

How bitter is my fate!

Alas! to set sail loveless across the sea!

The pure white being

Lies in her coffin.

How everything in nature

Seems to mourn!

The forsaken dove

Weeps, dreaming of its absent mate;

My soul weeps and feels

Itself adrift.

How bitter is my fate!

Alas! to set sail loveless across the sea!

The immense night above me

Is spread like a shroud;

I sing my song

Which heaven alone can hear.

Ah! how beautiful she was,

And how I loved her!

I shall never love a woman

As I loved her.

How bitter is my fate!

Alas! to set sail loveless across the sea!

 

 

IV Absence

Reviens, reviens, ma bien-aimée !

Comme une fleur loin du soleil,

La fleur de ma vie est fermée,

Loin de ton sourire vermeil.

 

Entre nos cœurs quelle distance !

Tant d’espace entre nos baisers !

Ô sort amer ! ô dure absence !

Ô grands désirs inapaisés !

 

Reviens, reviens, ma bien-aimée !

Comme une fleur loin du soleil,

La fleur de ma vie est fermée,

Loin de ton sourire vermeil !

 

D’ici là-bas, que de campagnes,

Que de villes et de hameaux,

Que de vallons et de montagnes,

À lasser le pied des chevaux !

 

Reviens, reviens, ma bien-aimée !

Comme une fleur loin du soleil,

La fleur de ma vie est fermée,

Loin de ton sourire vermeil !

 

[EN]

Return, return, my sweetest love!

Like a flower far from the sun,

The flower of my life is closed

Far from your crimson smile!

Such a distance between our hearts!

So great a gulf between our kisses!

O bitter fate! O harsh absence!

O great unassuaged desires!

Return, return, my sweetest love!

Like a flower far from the sun,

The flower of my life is closed

Far from your crimson smile!

So many intervening plains,

So many towns and hamlets,

So many valleys and mountains

To weary the horses’ hooves.

Return, return, my sweetest love!

Like a flower far from the sun,

The flower of my life is closed

Far from your crimson smile!

 

 

V Au cimetière

Connaissez-vous la blanche tombe

Où flotte avec un son plaintif

L’ombre d’un if ?

Sur l’if, une pâle colombe,

Triste et seule, au soleil couchant,

Chante son chant :

 

Un air maladivement tendre,

À la fois charmant et fatal,

Qui vous fait mal,

Et qu’on voudrait toujours entendre ;

Un air, comme en soupire aux cieux

L’ange amoureux.

 

On dirait que l’âme éveillée

Pleure sous terre à l’unisson

De la chanson,

Et du malheur d’être oubliée

Se plaint dans un roucoulement

Bien doucement.

 

Sur les ailes de la musique

On sent lentement revenir

Un souvenir ;

Une ombre, une forme angélique

Passe dans un rayon tremblant,

Passe, passe dans un rayon tremblant,

En voile blanc.

 

Les belles-de-nuit, demi-closes,

Jettent leur parfum faible et doux

Autour de vous,

Et le fantôme aux molles poses

Murmure en vous tendant les bras :

« Tu reviendras ! »

 

Oh ! jamais plus, près de la tombe,

Je n’irai, quand descend le soir

Au manteau noir,

Ecouter la pâle colombe

Chanter sur la pointe de l’if

Son chant plaintif !

 

[EN]

Do you know the white tomb,

Where the shadow of a yew

Waves plaintively?

On that yew a pale dove,

Sad and solitary at sundown

Sings its song;

A melody of morbid sweetness,

Delightful and deathly at once,

Which wounds you

And which you’d like to hear forever,

A melody, such as in the heavens,

A lovesick angel sighs.

As if the awakened soul

Weeps beneath the earth together

With the song,

And at the sorrow of being forgotten

Murmurs its complaint

Most meltingly.

On the wings of music

You sense the slow return

Of a memory;

A shadow, an angelic form

Passes in a shimmering beam,

Veiled in white.

The Marvels of Peru, half-closed,

Shed their fragrance sweet and faint

About you,

And the phantom with its languid gestures

Murmurs, reaching out to you:

Will you return?

Ah! nevermore shall I approach that tomb,

When evening descends

In its black cloak,

To listen to the pale dove

From the top of a yew

Sing its plaintive song!

 

 

VI L'île inconnue

Dites, la jeune belle,

Où voulez-vous aller ?

La voile enfle son aile,

La brise va souffler,

La voile enfle son aile,

La brise va souffler.

 

L’aviron est d’ivoire,

Le pavillon de moire,

Le gouvernail d’or fin ;

J’ai pour lest une orange,

Pour voile, une aile d’ange ;

Pour mousse, un séraphin.

J’ai pour lest une orange,

Pour voile, une aile d’ange ;

Pour mousse, un séraphin.

 

Dites, la jeune belle,

Où voulez-vous aller ?

La voile enfle son aile,

La brise va souffler,

La voile enfle son aile,

La brise va souffler.

 

Est-ce dans la Baltique ?

Dans la mer Pacifique ?

Dans l’île de Java ?

Ou bien est-ce en Norvège,

Cueillir la fleur de neige,

Ou la fleur d’Angsoka ?

 

Dites, dites, la jeune belle,

Dites, où voulez-vous aller ?

 

— Menez moi, dit la belle,

À la rive fidèle

Où l’on aime toujours !

— Cette rive, ma chère,

On ne la connaît guère,

Cette rive, ma chère,

On ne la connaît guère

Au pays des amours,

On ne la connaît guère,

On ne la connaît guère

Au pays des amours.

 

Où voulez-vous aller ?

La brise va souffler !

 

[EN]

Tell me, pretty young maid,

Where is it you would go?

The sail is billowing,

The breeze about to blow!

The oar is of ivory,

The pennant of watered silk,

The rudder of finest gold;

For ballast I’ve an orange,

For sail an angel’s wing,

For cabin-boy a seraph.

Tell me, pretty young maid,

Where is it you would go?

The sail is billowing,

The breeze about to blow!

Perhaps the Baltic,

Or the Pacific

Or the Isle of Java?

Or else to Norway,

To pluck the snow flower

Or the flower of Angsoka?

Tell me, pretty young maid,

Where is it you would go?

Take me, said the pretty maid,

To the shore of faithfulness

Where love endures forever.

– That shore, my sweet,

Is scare known

In the realm of love.

Where is it you would go?

The breeze is about to blow!

 

 

Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder (www.oxfordlieder.co.uk)

Brussels Philharmonic

 

CONDUCTOR

Thierry Fischer

 

FIRST VIOLINS

Henry Raudales, concertmaster

Nadja Nevolovitsch, principal

Olivia Bergeot

Annelies Broeckhoven

Elizaveta Rybentseva

Anton Skakun

Alissa Vaitsner

Gillis Veldeman

Kristina Rimkeviciute

Sylvie Bagara

Cristina Constantinescu

Justine Rigutto

Filipe Raposo

Floris Uytterhoeven

 

SECOND VIOLINS

Samuel Nemtanu, principal

Aline Janeczek

Eléonore Malaboeuf

Sayoko Mundy

Eline Pauwels

Stefanie Van Backlé

Mireille Kovac

Naoko Ogura

Julien Poli

Camille Aubrée

Keren-Peta Lorier

Caroline Chardonnet

 

VIOLAS

Mihai Cocea, principal

Griet François, soloist

Philippe Allard

Hélène Koerver

Agnieszka Kosakowska

Marina Barskaya

Stephan Uelpenich

Patricia Van Reusel

Olfje van der Klein

Barbara Peynsaert

 

CELLOS

Kristaps Bergs, principal

Kirsten Andersen

Barbara Gerarts

Julius Himmler

Emmanuel Tondus

Sophie Jomard

Shiho Nishimura

Laia Ruiz Llopart

 

DOUBLE BASSES

Jan Buysschaert, principal

Simon Luce

Thomas Fiorini

Martin Rosso

Maarten Taelman

Ben Faes

 

FLUTES

Lieve Schuermans, principal

Sarah Miller

 

OBOES

Joost Gils, principal

Maarten Wijnen

Lode Cartrysse, soloist

 

CLARINETS

Maura Marinucci, principal

Midori Mori, soloist

 

BASSOONS

Marceau Lefèvre, principal

Rémy Roux

 

HORNS

Hans van der Zanden, principal

Francesc Saez Calatayud   

Mieke Ailliet, soloist

Claudia Rigoni

 

TRUMPETS

Simon Van Hoecke, principal

Rik Ghesquière

Luc Sirjacques

 

TROMBONES

David Rey, principal

Tim Van Medegael, soloist

Zaccharie Kropp

 

TUBA

Jean Xhonneux, soloist

 

TIMPANI

Titus Franken, soloist

 

PERCUSSION

Stijn Schoofs

 

HARP

Eline Groslot, soloist