Lucrecia Cenci

Lucrecia Dalt channels innate sensory echoes of growing up in Colombia on her new album ¡Ay!, where traditional instrumentation encounters adventurous impulse and sci-fi meditations on atemporality in an exclamation of liminal delight.

Lucrecia Dalt is back on RVNG with a complex and syrupy full-length of undulating rhythms and half-heard melodies, cracking with ASMR vocal elements and shrouded, mystical instrumentation.

The Cenci (1951–52) is Havergal Brian’s operatic realisation of Shelley’s gruesome tale of incest and parricide in Renaissance Italy. The score calls it simply ‘Opera in Eight Scenes’, but it rarely goes in for grand tunes; instead, its dark colours reflect Shelley’s fascination with the struggle between good and evil. Stylistically, it is an unusual but highly effective hybrid: a music-drama focused on the intense delivery of Shelley’s text, with the declamatory style of the vocal lines echoing such recent oratorios as Stravinsky’s Oedipus Rex and Honegger’s Jeanne d’Arc au bûcher, and the freewheeling orchestral writing producing something of a vocal symphony.

The beautiful Beatrice Cenci, daughter of the noble Francesco, falls in love with the intendant Olimpio. But she has to face the jealousy of her violent and morbid father, and the hostility of her stepmother Lucrezia.