I've lived in Bangkok three times; first, as a child, between the ages of seven and twelve, sneaking out to see concerts by the Royal Navy Orchestra conducted by ML Usni Pramoj; next, as a young man, in the 1970s, battling to create new audiences; and finally, in my old age, for the last twenty years, when I've had the chance both to witness and to be a part of exciting new developments in music. But it is only in the last month or so that it's really hit home: the audience in Bangkok has come of age at last, and it's a young, passionate, and uniquely local audience.
Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire is an iconic, and iconoclastic, work of the twentieth century. It's a song cycle about lunacy, absurdity, and the archetypal sad clown who is also the artist himself writ large -- and by extension all of humanity. It's composed in this weird singing style Schoenberg pioneered, Sprechstimme, which is where you lightly touch the notes but you're speaking, not singing.
One of the concerts I went to last month was the Thailand premiere of Pierrot Lunaire at the Goethe Auditorium. This work, bristling with difficulties, receives sympathetic, at times inspired performances by musicians who truly "get" its many eccentricities. It was organised by Akkra Yeungyounghattaporn. With great bravery, even foolhardiness, this work was undertaken without a conductor -- even with only six players, doing it without one can be like navigating a jungle without a compass -- but the ensemble held together credibly.
Instead of a single soloist, there were two: Benyapa Pharaksa and Wasin Pornphongsa. Both of them attacked the challenge of sprechstimme with gusto. Wasin's deep comprehension of the schizophrenic text was especially exciting, and he acted the part with conviction, treating it operatically. Benyapa was a little more reticent, and her placement near the back of the ensemble was more constrictive, but she too lent a lovely tone and plaintive empathy to the character.
Pierrot Lunaire. SOMTOW SUCHARITKUL
The next evening, I was treated to an unusual production of Dido And Aeneas by the Bangkok Youth Opera. A group of young performers were assembled by the intrepid Jorn Yasavudhi (who also played Aeneas) and these kids are thinking big -- they are planning The Marriage Of Figaro next year conducted by Thailand's expert in 18th century style, Trisdee na Patalung.
Purcell's opera, originally composed for a girl's school, is by no means unknown in Thailand. As artistic director of Opera Siam, I myself have produced it twice. But this was an innovative production -- featuring a complex prologue assembled from other works by the composer, using dance to narrate the mythology of the past -- and more than 50% of the music came from sources other than Purcell's surviving score (Purcell originally composed a prologue as well, but that music has been lost).
Conceived in terms of dance and movement by Laban-trained choreographer and Unesco dance representative Darren Royston, the production always had something going on. Characters we don't usually see in productions like Aeneas's young son Ascanius, the spectral figures of Aeneas's parents, and various gods were everywhere, manipulating or commenting on the action. Memorably intense was the performance of young mezzo Kridhima Siriwattanakamol in the role of the doomed queen. But there were many promising student singers, including Suchunya Tanvichien as Belinda.
Dido is typically seen as a concise, forty-five-minute arc of classically structured tragedy, but Darren Royston's production was an explosion of colour and spectacle, reminiscent of one of Zeffirelli's opera productions at the Met. While there was nothing in the production that I would have personally done the same way, I thoroughly enjoyed every moment. The orchestra, led by harpsichordist Kornraset Narkmun, strongly embraced historically informed performance practices. Recorder player Thanawat Roongkrajang delivered a highly idiomatic performance. Kornraset's continuo playing was in the style sometimes referred to as the 'naughty harpsichordist', but much of what he did was imaginative, playful, and always a delight to listen to.
A few days later, our own orchestra, the Siam Sinfonietta, performed two important twentieth century works as well -- Petrushka by Stravinsky, and the Rosenkavalier Suite by Richard Strauss, the latter a Thailand premiere. These are not works one would have expected young players to be able to manage, and they haven't been played by the older "pro" orchestras in Bangkok. I'm looking forward to other adventurous repertoires this year. In every case this past month I've noticed full houses, and young and enthusiastic audiences. There has never been a more exciting time to be a classical music lover in this town.
