San Francisco Classical Voice

How good are these under-26, mostly teenage musicians? So good that they received an ovation even at a concert where Argerich played her best. If you heard her performance at this concert, you'd never guess that the Ravel Piano Concerto in G is a difficult work. She tossed it off without the slightest effort, the music cascading as a stream of pearls, and the orchestra was right there with her, all the way, through the hush of the Adagio, the jazzy storm of the Presto. Abbado suddenly emerged as a supreme Ravel specialist and that's news to me, but great news at that.

Argerich looked out from behind The Hair frequently this time, admiring orchestra soloists. Not usually given to something as common as an encore, she did play one, more for the madly applauding and stomping orchestra, I think, than for the shouting audience, which called her back four times before she did comply.

What she played was amazing. Was it Chopin as transcribed by Rachmaninov or, via time travel, vice versa? She was halfway through the piece before I realized it was — Scarlatti! Could it be? And if so, which one? Nobody I asked knew, so in the intermission, I went to the source. "One of the D minor sonatas," she said, from under the hair. "He wrote 500 of them. I use this one for warm-up. I want to hear the Debussy. Is there a seat on stage?" For Argerich, when she plays like a goddess? Management created spaces where none existed before.

And yet, with all this going on, the highest of my many peak experiences came at the beginning of the concert. It was Bartók's Music for Strings, Percussion and Celesta, sending shivers up the spine. Instead of the too-frequent "general orchestra sound" of the opening Andante, Abbado and the "kids" produced the mysterious murmur section by section, clearly, distinctly, and when the various strands converged into a quiet, but enormously broad tutti, the effect was indescribable.

A minor objection to not quite idiomatic rhythms of the second movement (there is a Hungarian syncopation and then there are others), but nothing really mattered in the searing intensity, the laser pinpoint of the interpretation and execution of this tough, challenging work. His excellent work was noticeable throughout, but it was especially during the third movement's solos that concertmaster Andrej Neufeld gave clear indication of being ready to occupy a major position with any "grownup" orchestra he wants.

In the whirlwind-transforming-into-storm of the fourth movement, once again the tutti was overwhelming — not the volume, but the strength, the breadth, the solidity of the sound. The great performance was all the more noteworthy because Abbado used the largest possible group of players (which makes precision more difficult), including 12 double basses (it was earlier on the same day that I made fun of the Russian Radio Orchestra's nine!) and apparently every single string player available.

And then, on to London, and Albert Hall for a repetition of the program. I had to be there, but Londoners beat me to it: a complete sellout of 6,000 and an enormous line waiting for last-minute returns. This being a terribly civilized country, the concert was broadcast live, so I heard it again, standing outside the hall. Clearly, the Usher Hall happening was no fluke; if anything, everything went even better this time. If the Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra ever makes it to do West Coast, run, don't walk, to get a ticket. If you end up outside the concert hall there, there will be no live broadcast to catch you up, I'd wager on that.

In one of the many large, bright rehearsal spaces of the new, luxurious Royal Opera House, the final workshop run-through of a dramatic, gripping powerful new opera took place on Friday, a month before its concert version world premiere.

The Blackened Man, composed by Will Todd, 32, to a libretto by Ben Dunwell, 33, is a two-act opera running a bit over a couple of hours. Its subject is a miners' strike in 1832, a murder, the conviction of a wrong man, and his execution by hanging, after which the body is "blackened" with tar, and displayed in a cage to serve as an example. Beyond the basic story line, there is a rich tapestry of loyalty, love, determination, heroism and an unflinching portrayal of fear and terror.

Two public performances are now set for September 26 and 28, in Linbury Studio Theatre, but no theater company has scheduled it for production yet, in spite of its second-place award in Milan at the last Giuseppe Verdi Competition, and Todd's track record of producing commercially acceptable works, including The Screams of Kitty Genovese.

Its current title may hold it back, but I think it will get into general repertory, especially with small companies — although Dead Man Walking has a dozen productions with large opera companies, so who knows?

Jake Heggie's work has a great deal in common with Todd's opera: the grim subject, a good libretto, drama well presented and sustained, music that's both truly contemporary and yet not forbidding or off-putting. Although the two young composers don't know each other's works, it's rather amazing how similar their works turned out.

Both Blackened Man and Dead Man are music dramas, rather than dramas with music, the scores serve to underline, to move forward the action, may not be very interesting when performed by themselves. (Where are the snows of yesterday's classic film scores?!) Todd and Heggie both use "micro-melodies," very short themes, both compose music that is "melodic," but not memorably so.

The two operas are truly dramatic (rather than "just" melodramatic), and serve the text well, as vocal lines dominate. Both also owe some (most likely unintentional) debt to Menotti and, in choral numbers, to Britten. Unlike Heggie, Todd hasn't mastered yet fully the art of shifting musical moods smoothly; at times, the music remains the same while the text and/or the action shifts.

I cannot remember the last workshop performance I attended where I saw and heard such a excellent young cast. It's understandable when a project is brought to the selling block that its creators cannot afford first-class performers. Even though Blackened Man" has no sponsors at this time (the Royal Opera is making the rehearsal room available, nothing more, although it is supporting the project in general), the cast is the finest money cannot buy.

Economy shows, on the other hand, in the two-piano presentation of this richly orchestrated work. Natalie Murray and Ralph Woodward played well, but they couldn't substitute for the large-orchestra Todd has written.

The voices, on the other hand, are certainly large enough already. Two young baritones were very impressive. In the role of Ralph Armstrong (the foreman, who is responsible for the murder that places his innocent friend in the gibbet), Graeme Danby blew the walls down, quite without huffing and puffing. His is a dramatic, perhaps even heroic baritone, with plenty of colors and shading. In the lamentably short role of the magistrate who is killed, Mark Evans made one sit up and notice: a powerful, forward-placed voice, compressed, solid, effective.

In the title role, tenor David Barrell exhibited a kind of music-theater (rather than "operatic") voice, which may be the right thing for the role, which requires a thoughtful, non-showy presentation.Naomi Harvey's Isabella and, in the second act when she finally had enough to do, Valerie Reid's Mrs. Turner were excellent, even in the setting of what was still a rehearsal.

Todd's choral music, already mentioned as "Brittenesque," is among his strongest points as a composer. The performance by the remarkable London Voices ranged from good to stunning.

This being a small world, after all, who would show up as director but David Edwards, subject of my last review in San Francisco before leaving on this trip just a week ago. He did a fine job with the SF Opera Merola Program's production of The Merry Wives of Windsor, in Stern Grove and at the College of Marin.

At this point, Edwards (who lives in London) seems to work on limited movement for the concert performance, but if (or, rather, when) Blackened Man goes on to a fully-staged production, the director will have has hands full . . . and a great opportunity awaiting him.