I bought tickets for this concert last year, expecting it to be an average experience. It wasn’t until last week that I realized it was a multi-sensory event, featuring both lighting and scent design! The scent was created by a Cartier perfumer, which made me feel a bit guilty since I know absolutely nothing about Cartier fragrances.
As I had imagined, given the theme of Prometheus, the base had to be either woody or oriental. Oriental might’ve been too intense for the setting, so they went with a woody profile. To me, it felt like the core notes were cedar, leather, and incense. Then, as the choir entered, a fruity note suddenly appeared—a hint of blackcurrant, perhaps? It had a watery, elusive quality. There seemed to be two other changes (one before the choir and one near the finale), but I didn’t focus enough to pinpoint them.
During the performance, I started wondering: unlike lighting, scents can’t be precisely timed to the music. This makes them better suited for pieces with gradual emotional shifts in a concert setting. But if it were a one-on-one custom experience, it’d be fascinating to sync scents exactly with musical cues—what an incredible experience that would be!
As for the lighting, it was flashy and cool, but I didn’t quite grasp the design’s connection to the music. It felt somewhat monotonous compared to the big sweeping effects you’d expect from, say, a Broadway-style light show.
Regarding the music, I don’t have much prior experience with Scriabin’s orchestral works. I did listen to Abbado and Argerich’s rendition during my prep—it was stunning, and I can’t recommend it enough. Perhaps that version set my expectations too high, as I found Salonen’s interpretation gentler than I had hoped. I prefer a performance that carries more weight and tension.
Many key motifs—like the prominent E#-C-F—were underplayed, with the orchestra often glossing over them. Abbado’s version interweaves voices relentlessly, driving momentum forward, while Salonen’s approach held back, only reaching full volume at the very end. Perhaps this was intentional, emphasizing the idea that the final chord is the only "classically consonant" harmony in the entire piece. Still, I prefer a performance with continuous energy, especially given the maximalist spirit of this work (hello, eight French horns!).
When the choir entered, Salonen’s pacing—pausing fully before continuing—felt less impactful, missing some of the crushing intensity I was hoping for.
The second half: Bartók’s Bluebeard’s Castle
This one-act opera blew past all my expectations. Initially (before the concert), I wasn’t too excited, for two reasons:
But this performance was extraordinary! Bluebeard’s Castle is unique in that it has only one setting, two characters, and relies almost entirely on dialogue. This simplicity made it perfect for a concert version, and the lighting design—assigning distinct colors to each of the seven doors as described in the libretto—beautifully marked each act.
The opera masterfully uses the classic Bluebeard tale to deliver a double twist, allowing the audience to empathize with the heroine’s three layers of terror and pain:
Each layer builds on the last, delivering wave after wave of emotional intensity. It was electrifying. Beyond the drama, the opera also gave me fresh insights into relationships—an unexpected and delightful takeaway.
P.S. I was worried that the scent design might cause coughing and disrupt the concert atmosphere, but it was fine! There was barely any coughing during the first half. Ironically, though, there was a stretch in Bluebeard’s Castle where the coughing came in waves—so much for that! 😆
