We find ourselves near the east end of St. Paul’s Cathedral in London, just before dawn. We can hear the monks singing in the cathedral. Near the wall is a block of marble with a richly decorated sword set in it. Merlin greets Christmas Day with a request: for Arthur to be crowned King of England before the day ends. With the help of her sisters, Nivian, a Saracen slave, beguiles the Gnomes so that Merlin can steal their gold. Nivian asks Merlin to keep his word and set them free when the King is crowned. Merlin threatens Nivian with terrible punishment if she tells Morgan le Fay of his plans.

The widespread recognition of Isaac Albéniz (born in Camprodon, Girona, on 29 May 1860, died in Cambo-les-Bains on 18 May 1909) as one of the essential figures of Spanish music is at odds with the lack of interest shown in his work as a whole until quite recently. Apart from the undisputed status of his piano pieces, especially his masterpiece Iberia, practically all his work was unknown. It seemed Albéniz had paid the price for following the main European cultural trends of his era —indeed, the narrow-minded, parochial milieu of his native country once led him to express his indignation and heartache in a famous phrase: “I have decided to ignore what is happening and what will happen in Spain.”  In effect, the nationalist aesthetic, traditionally associated with his musical language and stimulated by his studies with Felipe Pedrell, was based on a much more cosmopolitan range.

The first staged production (in May 2003) of an opera of the scale of Albéniz’ Merlin, a century after its composition, was both an event to celebrate and a subject worth serious consideration. After the long history of the work, its partial performances and general lack of interest, it is truly a privilege to see the first full staging of one of Albéniz’ most ambitious projects.