Oedipus never got a look in, writes Amal Choucri Catta Symphonic Suite Sheherazade, Opus 35, by Nicolay Andreyevich Rimsky-Korsakov, Cairo Opera Orchestra, cond. Nader Abbassi: Cairo Opera House, Main Hall, Thursday 21 November, 9.30pm Oedipus Rex, performed by the Cairo Opera Orchestra and the Cairo Opera Choir, had been promised, though no one had thought to say which Oedipus Rex, and there are quite a few: in 1692 the British composer, Henry Purcell, created a piece of incidental music dubbed Oedipus Rex while Mussorgski wrote a work for mixed choir, in 1860, under the same name, and an Irish composer, Sir Charles Villiers Stanford, created an opera, Oedipus Rex. The Italian Ruggero Leoncavallo produced his own Oedipus-opera in Chicago in 1920, while another Russian, Igor Stravinsky, composed the opera- oratorio Oedipus Rex in 1926, in two acts, based on the tragedy by Sophocles, with a libretto by Jean Cocteau and translated into Latin by Jean Danielou. It was produced in Paris in 1927 as Oratorio, before successfully touring Vienna, Boston and New York. In the meantime, Stravinsky's Oedipus has become a favourite among music lovers; the male choir presents some beautiful sequences: the choir of the Thebans celebrating Jocasta's arrival being an eloquent example. As a musical subject Oedipus has inspired many other composers, including Mendelssohn, who wrote a piece of incidental music in nine parts for soloists, choir and orchestra, created in Potsdam in 1845, or the Romanian George Enesco, who composed an opera in four acts, Oedipe, for the Paris Opera in 1936. Oedipus is indeed a prodigious subject, enjoying enormous popularity all over the operatic world. Regretfully, however, he has never made an appearance on the Cairo Opera's stage. The Oedipus we were promised would in all likelihood have been Stravinsky's Oratorio though when asked at the time no one seemed quite to know. Then, a few days preceding the concert, flyers appeared announcing that on Thursday 21 November the Cairo Opera Orchestra would not be performing anything Oedipul, but instead Rimsky- Korsakov's Symphonic Suite Sheherazade, Opus 35. Asked why the change in programme no one could answer. Sheherazade is too brief a composition to take up an entire evening. But would they send us home after less than an hour? We got Sheherazade, without interruption and then, yes, it was home time. Rimsky-Korsakov's Sheherazade generally forms the second part of an instrumental concert, in place of the symphony. It is rarely presented as a solitary musical item. It is unlikely to have been new to anyone in the audience, having been performed hundreds of times in past years by the Cairo Symphony Orchestra, and was a regular item in the repertoire even before the inauguration of the new Cairo Opera House 14 years ago. The Cairo Symphony Orchestra, by the way, had presented the same Sheherazade, together with the Capriccio Espagnol, on Sunday 3 November at the Main Hall of the Opera House, under the baton of Ahmed El-Saedi, in the framework of the Children's Concerts. Two Sheherazade's in one month is surely an overdose. If the Cairo Opera Orchestra, for some secret reason, was suddenly incapable of presenting Oedipus Rex as had been earlier scheduled, surely another piece of incidental music might have been selected. Whatever the vagaries of choice, Thursday's concert went off quite well under the baton of Nader Abbassi, who is well on the way towards establishing himself as something of a draw, building on his success conducting Aida at the Pyramids last October. His Sheherazade was a charming version of the real thing though the violins, at times, displayed a slightly wayward tendency, following their own tempo, and the double-bases were often too low in their pianissimo. The solo parts of the first violin were beautiful, though not always of the purest sound on the lower strings. The harp was, at times, inaudible. The entire Suite is based on the tale of Sultan Shahriyar who, having decided that all women are unfaithful, vows to execute each of his wives after having spent the first night with them. He had been betrayed by his first wife, whom he had executed, and the music begins with the sounds of brass and percussion, announcing the sultan and his long chain of executions. Families, afraid of the sultan, are hiding their daughters or sending them to far- away places, and soon the sultan discovers that the only girl left in the metropolis is his vizir's daughter, Sheherazade. He marries her. This girl, however, is not only beautiful, she is intelligent and has no intention whatsoever of dying at the hands of the sultan's henchmen. Which is why she decides to tell shahriyar a tale every night, keeping him awake until the cock crows at dawn, when he finally falls asleep without giving any order for her execution. Which is also when the violin solo sets in with its marvellous melody. Then follows the story of Sindbad and his adventurous trips over the seven seas, with the swelling sound of the orchestra gaining in volume before drifting into the pianissimo of receding waves. The sound has colour and warmth and there is sunshine in the orchestra as the sea turns crimson and the winds subside. The second of the four tales chosen by the composer is the story of Prince Calender, followed by the tale of the young monarch and the princess and, finally, the sequence of the feast in Baghdad, with cymbals and tambourines and dancers gliding among drapes of velvet and gold. But the sound of angry waves suddenly breaks through the joyful tingle of the dance and we are once more on the sea. This time the waves are foamy and grey and we hear the sinking ship breaking up on the rocks. The music is sweet and sad, happy and sorrowful, sometimes gentle, sometimes passionate but always adventurous and exciting. Shahriyar is curious and keeps asking for more every night. The ever recurring tune of the violin solo returns, haunting and melancholic, reminiscent of the heroine who, for one-thousand and one nights, or for two years and nine months, never really knew at which point her destiny might turn for the worse. But the composer had foreseen a happy end. Inspired by the exotic tales Rimsky- Korsakov produced clear and colourful orchestration and most distinguished melodies. The music came to an end with the audience giving the maestro and his musicians a standing ovation. They shouted encore and nobody really felt like leaving. The fairy-tale had won them over. Oedipus will have to wait.
