April 25, 2007
MAHLER: Symphony no. 2
Even though Mahler withdrew the program for this and his other symphonies, the programmatic content of these works was well known, and generations of critics and scholars have used those descriptions to interpret the music. At another level, Mahler’s Second Symphony, with its choral Finale in a sense, is a response to Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, and where the Viennese composer had proclaimed the universality of humanity, Mahler declared the general salvation of mankind in an escatological resurrection that transcends religious doctrine. Musically, this is a work in which the composer combines the otherwise artificial divisions of instrumental and vocal music to create a work that is truly symphonic in the sense that the term was used in the late Renaissance, when large-scale works by Gabrieli used instruments and voices to present texts in a celebratory works.
A sense of celebration sometimes accompanies performances of Mahler’s Second Symphony, in much the same way as occurs with Beethoven’s Ninth. As much as Mahler’s work is heard more often in concerts in the twenty-first century than it was in the first half of the twentieth, the Resurrection Symphony remains a work that is by no means run-of-the-mill. Mahler’s score calls for tight, precise ensemble in both the orchestra and chorus, soloists who must work together seamlessly, and a perceptive conductor who can balance those elements in a composition that assimilates elements symphony, oratorio, and orchestral song. The conductor Ivan Fischer captures such a spirit in this recording that was released in 2006. While the notes accompanying this CD do not contain specific dates, the CD was recorded in September 2005.
With its SACD format, the sound is both effective and appropriate to the style and scope Mahler’s Second Symphony. . Moreover, Fischer’s approach to the score is engaging for the way it results in a musical narrative that conveys the structure of the score. This is apparent in the first movement, in which Fischer gives shape to the various ideas that Mahler develops in the course of the piece. The incisive approach to the opening is indicative of the crispness that Fischer uses to bring out nuances in the first movement, while also respecting the details of the score. He is effective allowing the tempos to suit the thematic content, so that the various phrases sound natural and convincing. Yet when the score dictates, he brings out the rhythmic figuration that contributes to the overall ethos of the movement, the Totenfeier Mahler used to set in motion the larger structure of the work.
In the first movement, for example, the he allows for the kind of flexibility that makes the phrases meaningful and, at the same time, refrains from anything idiosyncratic or excessive. the dynamic levels support the musical phrases, and while some timbres may be prominent for a moment, they are never distractingly overdrawn or exaggerated. The marchlike character of the first movement is never achieved at the expense of the lyrical themes that Mahler used in it, and this demonstrates the strategic thinking that is characteristic of this fine new recording. Without becoming slavishly literal with the details that are essential to this movement and the others in the Symphony, Fischer uses the markings as a point of departure for this interpretation, such that the flute solo in the first movement can become a kind of dialogue with the solo violin and it is possible to hear the subtle shifts of tone color that support the structure of the work. These kinds of nuances are evident in the performance, and the quality of the record brings out such gradations quite well.
The fine recording quality found in this particular is noticeable in the second movements, where the various string textures are critical to its success. critical for the second movement, where the string sound must be heard in all its detail. The sometimes close recording is hardly out of place here, as it can be sometimes hard to hear in a live concert. Even though the recording levels capture the details, the winds never sound out of balance, but fit nicely into the timbre that Fischer has created in this movement.
Such attention to detail is not unique to the first movement, but found throughout the Symphony. With the percussion passage that opens the third movement, for example, the crispness and precision of this recording conveys a sense of immediacy that sets the tone for the rest of the movement. Proceeding from that point, the various motifs emerge disstinctly, and when the melismatic phrases from the song “Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt” occur, the lines are clearly articulated. Fischer’s reading of this movement is emblematic of his approach to the entire work, and he achieves a convincing whole that benefits from the attention he has given to the details that are part of it.
The vocal movements are also well done, with Fischer’s reading of the song “Urlicht,” the fourth movement, achieving an appropriate contrast to the ironic and sometimes aggressive character of the movement that preceded it. Birgit Remmert is quite moving in this piece, and her intonation is quite effective. Her alto voice fits the work well, as does her phrasing. The accompaniment is properly supportive of her voice, and as the orchestral becomes more animated, it blends well into her more impassioned sounds, especially with the lines “Da kam ein Engelein, und wollt’ mich abweisen” (“Then a little angel came, and wanted to turn me away”). From there, the song reaches it climax, and ends convincingly, thus setting up the final movement.
In the Finale, Fischer has a fine control of the architecture of the work as well as the forces involved in executing it. The sound quality, as in the other movements, conveys the textures well. The pizzicato accompaniment to the “Auferstehung” theme in the first section of the Finale is, for example, clear and clean, and in this and other places the balance is fine. At the same time, Fischer’s expressive palette includes an effective use of tempos that support the thematic and timbral content. Thus, the forte and fortissimo passages that Mahler uses to underscore the structure are effectively controlled in expressing the swelling phrases that precede the march prior to the choral entrance. There, too, the drum rolls are broad without being uncharacteristically overplayed. The offstage brass fit nicely into the sound plan of Fischer’s reading of this score.
Likewise, the choral entrance is effective, and the softer, almost sotto voce, passages are richly balanced, with the full texture quite moving the when the music demands a louder dynamic. At the same time, Lisa Milne’s voice emerges well front the ensemble, with a soaring tone that serves well in this work. In the vocal duet, Remmert and Milne work well together, and the sense of urgency that Fischer introduces in the orchestra gives the section the dramatic tension it requires. Such tension carries forward in the remainder of the movement, which presents the tableau of resurrection in a moving reading. Fischer brings the work to its conclusion in a recording that deserves attention for its remarkable sonic and musical qualities. This is a vivid performance that is served well by the recording quality. As the work ends, one almost expects to hear the applause that accompanies a live performance.
James L. Zychowicz
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Mahler2.png image_description=Gustav Mahler: Symphony no. 2 in C Minor. product=yes product_title=Gustav Mahler: Symphony no. 2 in C Minor. product_by=Birgit Remmert, alto, Lisa Milne, soprano, The Hungarian Radio Choir, Budapest Festival Orchestra, Ivan Fischer, conductor. product_id=Channel Classics CCS SA 23506 [2CDs] price=$27.49 product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/Drilldown?name_id1=7537&name_role1=1&comp_id=1801&genre=66&bcorder=195&label_id=123Beverly Sills & Placido Domingo
For vocal artists, this often means a career retrospective. Deutsche Grammophon has the “Portrait of the Artist” series, double-CD sets promoting mostly its current roster of artists — including a relatively new star, such as Magdalena Kozena. Each set has its own title, possibly leading the unwary to think the release contains new material. Kozena’s, for example, is called “Enchantment.” For tenor Placido Domingo, the marketers promise his fans “Truly Domingo.” DG has also brought forth a set of Beverly Sills excerpts, though not designated as part of the “Portrait” series, with the number of other fine artists featured acknowledged in the title: “Beverly Sills and Friends.”
Domingo’s career started around the same time as Sills’, but he still commands a top-rank position in the opera world, while she has been retired for some years. The cover of Domingo’s set features his handsome face, with the silver hair more than any lines on his face identifying his age. The Sills cover photo looks to come from the 1970s, with a blouse as full of ruffles as her hair is brilliant and towering. The freshness of the performances inside the two sets, however, prompts a different response.
Domingo has always been praised, and rightly so, for his impeccable musicianship and handsome
tone. He is not a tenor to sob, stretch out climaxes, or glory in the top notes (seldom easy for
him). The booklet essay maintains that his greatest contributions came in Verdi, and each of the
two discs starts with several selections from that composer. Though always tasteful and
committed, in none of the more familiar selections does Domingo offer a strong individual
reading. His Duke in “La donna è mobile” has little swagger. His Alfredo in the act two Traviata
aria lacks an impetuous edge to the passion expressed. The “Di quella pira” feels tame, and much
too slow (under Carlo Maria Giulini’s baton). Only in the Otello selections, from the
Myung-When Chung set, does Domingo bring forth a solid interpretation. The two Puccini
selections, “Donna non vidi mai” and “Nessun dorma,” boast the rewards of Domingo’s warm
middle voice, but the tight top compromises the effect. Domingo would have been better served
with selections from the Mehta La Fanciulla del West set, one of the tenor’s stronger performances.
Disc one ends, after an ardent “flower aria” from Carmen and a slice of the Kubelik Oberon, with Wagner, where Domingo’s handsome tone can pour out and his top is less often called upon.
Disc two starts with some rarer Verdi, from the large DG set of a few years back covering all the major Verdi tenor roles. In this lesser-known material, Domingo’s firm grasp of the melodic line is much appreciated. Regrettably, the dramatic introduction to Luisa Miller’s “Quando la sere al placido” is not included. Ending the set are some rather bland selections from a disc of “spiritual”-themed music of a few years ago, and some much more enjoyable and idiomatic singing of songs and zarzuela selections.
The Sills set features large sections from her complete opera recordings, and ends with a wonderful potpourri of numbers with Charles Wadsworth accompanying her, from Schubert and Handel to Arne and Adam. By the end of the second disc, a more through and detailed “Portrait of the Artist” has been drawn than the Domingo set provides. In Manon and Lucia, Sills’s soprano has a wonderfully brilliant lightness, yet the dark edges of each character also come through . Then, in selections from her three Donizetti queens, she takes on a more dramatic thrust, while maintaining her control of florid passages. These longer excerpts, featuring such fine other singers as Shirley Verrett and Eileen Ferrell, provide time for a fuller view of the dimensions of Sills’ s art than Domingo can convey in his aria-intensive overview.
Disc two opens with Ms. Sills’s sensual Giulietta from Les Contes d’Hoffman and then offers her Baby Doe from Douglas Moore’s opera. Your reviewer is among those who find the music, and especially the libretto, unfortunately dated and old-fashioned, but Ms. Sills does sound impressively lovely in the “Willow song.”
The last half of the second disc is an uninterrupted stream of delights, with rare material, from baroque to early classical era. The style pre-dates the onset so-called “historically-informed performances,” but anyone who can resist the charm of Ms. Sills’s singing here is, well, over-informed. A lively aria from Lehar’s Der Zarewitsch closes the set.
Domingo might have been better served by a different set of selections, but DG has done wonderfully by Ms. Sills. For those who have had limited exposure to her achievements, Beverly Sills and Friends deserves a strong recommendation.
Chris Mullins
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Sills.png image_description=Beverly Sills and Friends product=yes product_title=Beverly Sills and FriendsWorks by Adam, Arne, Bellini, Bishop, Caldara, Donizetti, Handel, Lehár, Massenet, Moore, Offenbach, Schubert product_by=Beverly Sills and others product_id=Deutsche Grammophon 477 6304 [2CDs] price=$14.99 product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/album.jsp?album_id=144785
Handel Singing Competition Final – London April 23rd
Year on year the competition’s status has grown and this was reflected last night in both the quality of the singing, and the quantity of audience there to listen – the place was packed with keen Handelians of all ages, music agents, directors and critics. Some sixty original young performers had started out on the audition and knock-out rounds, so the final six singing last night had made it through against considerable opposition and it showed. What was perhaps most interesting of all was perusing the contestant’s resumés and noting that two came from Australia, one from South Africa, one from Portugal and one from Eire.
As with all competitions, what the judges are looking for is not always what is appreciated most by the audience, but at least the London Handel one acknowledges this with both 1st and 2nd prizes and also an Audience Prize, given to the singer who gains the most votes in a quick-fire ballot taken immediately after the singing stops. Last night overall victory went to the only baritone singing, Derek Welton, the possessor of a fine, robust instrument who concentrated his fire on shorter oratorio and anthem pieces, with only one excerpt from an opera. His singing was focused and exact and technically very secure, his wider experience showing, even if he was rather wooden in his character portrayals. At the other end of the male vocal scale, and receiving the 2nd prize, was the countertenor Christopher Ainslie who conversely concentrated on Handel’s great arias for castrato from Serse, Orlando and Tamerlano. His rather elegantly “English” voice, although slightly covered at times, was complemented by a pleasing stage presence and flair for interpretation. For the ladies, it came as no surprise when the Audience Prize was bestowed on the charming Irish soprano, Anna Devin. Her strong interpretive skills were matched by a strong, secure technique and beautiful vocal tone and she shone in her two arias from Alcina and Giulio Cesare.
The losing competitors had nothing to be ashamed of – they all sang with credit and commitment and with great promise for the future: Gilliam Ramm, Joana Seara, sopranos and Julia Riley, mezzo-soprano. The first named had a big voice, perhaps lacking a little in Handelian style but impressive nevertheless, Seara from Portugal sang with delightful delicacy and precision, without too much power however, and Riley seemed to suffer a little from nerves and a rather odd choice of repertoire in her first items which hardly showed her voice off as they might. Her final aria from Ariodante showed glimpses of what she may be capable of in time.
As usual all the young singers were accompanied by the very supportive and elegant London Handel Orchestra, guided by Laurence Cummings.
© Sue Loder 2007
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Handel_singing_competition.png image_description=The Handel Singing Competition product=yes product_title=Handel Singing Competition Final – London23 April 2007
Kelly Kaduce sings Anna Karenina
And behind that wish is the tremendous impression that Kelly Kaduce, who sings the title role in Miami, has made on him.
“She’s such a great artist — a wonderful singer and a superb actress,” says Gierlach, whose signature roles include Mozart’s Figaro and Giovanni. “I wish that Tolstoi had come up with a an ending that would have let Anna and Vronsky work things out and stay together.” He feels that Kaduce, who will repeat the role when this co-production is on stage at the Opera Theatre of St. Louis this summer, makes a particularly strong and sympathetic figure of Anna — despite the events that lead to her tragic death. “As Kelly sings her, Anna is still the winner,” Gierlach says. “She makes clear that she is a woman of courage. “Anna wanted to be free and independent and she was willing to fight society in her desire to find love. She refused to accept the limits placed on her.”
Gierlach describes Kaduce as “an inspiring artist” and states that working with her on this premiere has been a fine experience. “I’m so happy to have been a part of this,” he says.
Less than a decade after winning the 1999 Metropolitan Opera auditions Kaduce has made an
unusually strong mark in the world of music theater and has brought distinction to a number of
world premieres. Most recently she sang Rosashorn in Ricky Ian Gordon’s “The Grapes of
Wrath” at Minnesota Opera, where she made this spoiled young member of John Steinbeck’s
Joad family wonderfully credible and gripping. Indeed, she made Rosashorn a major center of
attention in the four-hour work, tracing her development from selfish innocence to the insights
that come with her pregnancy and the desertion of her husband with heart-rending conviction.
(“Rosashorn” is, of course, a corruption of the biblical “Rose of Sharon.”)
In Detroit Kaduce created the role of Caroline Gaines in Richard Danielpour’s “Margaret Garner,” a role she repeated with the Opera Company of Philadelphia. And in St. Louis she sang in title role in the American premiere of Michael Berkeley’s “Jane Eyre” and later this summer she appears at the Santa Fe Opera as Princess Lan in the world premiere of Tan Dun’s “Tea: A Mirror of Soul.” Her 2003 Santa Fe debut was also in a world premiere: Bright Sheng’s “Madame Moa,” in which she sang two roles — the Chinese Actress and ZhiZhen. And although the 2006 Florida staging celebrated the 50th anniversary of Carlyle Floyd’s “Susannah,” Karduce brought new depth to the title role at Orlando Opera.
It’s quite a track record for a woman who grew up in a Minnesota town of 1500, where opera was at most something on the radio. “I had no idea that you could make a living as a singer,” Kaduce said in an interview during rehearsals in Miami. “I enjoy the forests and the out-of-doors and I spent my first two years at St. Olaf as a biology major.” At that point someone heard her sing and suggested a change of majors.
“I had always sung,” says Kaduce, pointing out that her mother played the piano and served as a church organist. “I grew up listening to the top 40 and singing musical theater. “But when I started to sing classical repertoire, I discovered this incredible music I knew nothing about, music much more suited to my voice.” Kaduce only on-stage experience before leaving Minnesota for Boston University was a college “Bohème,” in which she sang not Mimi but Musetta.
More crucial was a performance of “Pelléas et Mélisande” by Minnesota Opera that she had seen in her sophomore year. “That’s when I fell in love with opera,” she says. “It was clear to me then that this was the profession for me. The performance further brought out Kaduce’s affinity for French opera, soon confirmed by her first appearances in “Faust” and “Thaïs,” which she sang while studying with Penelope Bitzas in the Opera Institute at Boston University.
Butterfly and Mimi followed, and critics crowned Kaduce with laurels for both roles. “Kelly Kaduce’s Madama Butterfly is nothing short of breathtaking,” a Boston critic wrote of her debut as Puccini’s gentle Japanese bride. “Some Madamas are heart-warming, others are heart-rending, and Kaduce’s is the best of both.” And about her portrayal of Cio-Cio San’s death another reviewer wrote: “With Kaduce, Butterfly’s suicide was not the cowardly capitulation of a hapless victim, but the act of someone who every step of the way has looked fate straight in the eye with dignity and acceptance.”
Karduce has no particular explanation for her success in new opera beyond the fact that at the outset of her career she “didn’t want to say ‘no’” when offered a role. “But even in college I was fascinated by new works,” she says, “and once I was involved in a premiere I enjoyed the challenge.” She speaks of Anna, for example, as “a blank canvas,” and it’s up to her to fill it with life. “I read the novel again and studied the background and history of it,” she says, “and then I put all that aside and turned to the libretto. “It’s exciting that in a new work I’m largely on my own — there are no recordings to listen to and no videos to watch.” Kaduce relishes getting down to work with the composer, director, conductor and fellow members of the cast.
The weight of the Florida premiere has been augmented by the April 7 death of Colin Graham, a major force in American opera for a quarter century. Graham extracted the libretto of “Anna Karenina” from Tolstoi’s novel and was slated to serve as stage director in Miami. “We had been good friends for the past five years,” Kaduce says. “And — happily — I was still able to discuss Anna with him.” It’s an opera, she says, in which one really needs a director because of the complexity of the relationships within it.
Critically ill as the FGO premiere went into rehearsal, Graham’s death was not a surprise; assistant director Mark Streshinsky was already deeply involved in “Anna” and ready to take over. “Colin was my teacher and I felt well prepared to step in,” he says. “And I’m really excited about the opera.” A major source of that excitement is working with Kaduce “She’s simply perfect as Anna,” Streshinsky says. “She’s a real artist and she knows the novel so well. “And she has the bearing of a real Anna.”
Kaduce describes her recipe for success as singing roles in which she “can produce a maximum of sound with a minimum of effort.” And although she has been asked to sing Salome, she feels that — just into her 30s — she is not ready to move into Strauss. Overly busy with opera, Kaduce will sing her first recital in five years at the Santa Fe Chamber Music Festival this summer. “This is a very tough business,” teacher Penelope Bitzas told a Boston writer in an interview about Kaduce. “A singer has to keep going in the face of disappointments, no matter what. And there’s the element of luck and of being in the right place at the right time. “Kelly is a very hard worker. She’s very focused and mature. Her voice is this beautiful, round, dark, yummy sound. She has a way about her when she sings — she radiates. “That’s something you can’t teach. Singers either have it or they don’t.”
Wes Blomster
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Kaduce.png image_description=Kelly Kaduce as Anna Karenina (Photo: Deborah Gray Mitchell) product=yes product_title=Above: Kelly Kaduce as Anna Karenina(Photo: Deborah Gray Mitchell)
April 23, 2007
Wozzeck at San Diego Opera
In the week after the horrific crime at Virginia Tech, the question strengthened this great but harsh masterpiece’s claim on the attention of an opera-going public still hesitant to expose itself to the work, over 80 years past its premiere. San Diego Opera General Director Ian Campbell’s greeting to his company’s patrons in the program almost begged for their indulgence: Wozzeck “is ‘not’ Aida or Madama Butterfly,” he helpfully explained, but a work that “took opera in new directions.”
During the performance Sunday, a few audience members took the “old” direction toward the exits during the scene changes, creeping out as Wozzeck, apparently, creeped them out. The majority stayed to extend warm appreciation to the hard-working cast at the opera’s conclusion — a rather abrupt one, with the last note from the orchestra beating the curtain down, a true rarity.
Campbell turned to a theater director new to opera, as the news-making Peter Gelb of the
Metropolitan Opera has done. San Diego has been the home base for Des McAnuff, who has
helmed Tony-award winning musicals from Big River in 1985 to Jersey Boys in 2006. With
scenic designer Robert Brill, McAnuff created an eerie, tense Wozzeck, without the slightest hint
of any showbiz glitter. The cast, in Catherine Zuber’s time-appropriate costumes, live in a cold,
clinical world: the uni-set most resembles a hospital amphitheater for clinical examinations, with
metallic scaffolding forming tiers on the outside, and a huge, tilting disc of lights hanging over
the empty center. Unfortunately, the designers decided this should be a revolving set, and the
turntable apparatus made an unacceptable amount of noise, especially in the scene where Chris
Merritt’s Captain noted how quiet the evening was.
The “examination room” concept makes sense as a metaphor for the work’s detailed analysis of Wozzeck’s breakdown, but it also serves to distance the audience from the poor soldier’s plight. If everyone is living in the same cruel confines, why is he the only one who descends into madness? In the interludes between scene changes, film (designed by Dustin O’Neill) filled the stage-covering scrim. Some of the images brushed up against cliche, such as time-elapsed shots of dark clouds streaming through a gray sky. For the most part, the dead-eyed visage of Franz Hawlata’s Wozzeck stared out. His unchanging expression — or lack of same — served to work against a sense of increasing anxiety to approaching doom.
So with this, his first attempt at an opera, McAnuff may have felt hesitant to bring the full-force of his skills to the production. His direction, while detailed and well-structured, provided no fresh perspectives. Merritt’s Captain screamed and strutted like a borderline psychotic himself. Dean Peterson’s doctor, on the other hand, seemed a pallid figure, offering tame diet advice after a perfunctory prostate examination. Jay Hunter Morris’s Drum Major did capture both the masculine appeal and brutality of his character.
As Marie, Nina Warren truly cut a pathetic figure of desperation, both in the face of her own lust
and her partner’s advancing paranoia. Her top rang out with a cutting edge that made your
reviewer interested in hearing her Salome, or even Elektra.
At the center stood the forlorn figure of Franz Hawlata, pale and haunted, the lower range of his voice seeming to echo in the emptiness of the character. Wozzeck’s demise, however, came with the production’s arguable misfire, with Hawlata, instead of descending into water, having to strap himself onto a disc that mirrored the lights above. The disc then rose and tilted as a scrim descended, with film of a watery surface projected on it. The theatrical effect deadened the dramatic intention.
By far the greatest strength of the performance came from the orchestra under the leadership of Karen Keltner. Last heard by your reviewer leading the musicians in the very different score of Bizet’s Pearlfishers (!), Ms. Keltner caught the grinding dissonance and also the many moments of spectral beauty in Berg’s score.
Though by no means a “missed opportunity,” after this only intermittently successful Wozzeck McAnuff, if he continues to direct opera, should be confident enough to bring more daring and personal insight into his work. In the meantime, almost as a reward for their attendance at this still-challenging work, the SDO patrons can look forward to Mozart’s Nozze di Figaro, closing the 2007 season with familiar melodies and a starry cast. And perhaps after Wozzeck, the pain underneath the laughter in Da Ponte’s libretto will seep through.
Chris Mullins
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Wozzeck03.png image_description=German bass Franz Hawlata sings the title role of Wozzeck in San Diego Opera’s production of Wozzeck, directed by Des McAnuff. Photo © Cory Weaver product=yes product_title=Alban Berg: WozzeckSan Diego Opera, 22 April 2007 product_by=All photos courtesy of San Diego Opera
Giulio Cesare at Barbican, London
Tim Ashley [Guardian, 23 April 2007]
Much has already been written about the current Handel glut in our opera houses and concert halls. The problem lies, perhaps, not in quantity but in quality. The growing popularity of his music, particularly the operas, has resulted in a proliferation of indifferent performances.
Shrieks and screams over orchestra
Ken Winters [Globe and Mail, 23 April 2007]
Salome and Elektra, the two operas in which Richard Strauss made German-Expressionist, very bloody shovels out of merely lurid spades from the Bible and Sophocles, staked out a path that Strauss thereafter did not take. Perhaps he took seriously the noted critic Ernest Newman's comment that Elektra was "abominably ugly."
Stiffelio, Royal Opera House, London
By Andrew Clark [Financial Times, 23 April 2007]
Sex, sects, adultery and divorce: 21st- century soap opera? No, 19th-century grand opera. We like to think we’re liberated in the way we confront the great moral and social taboos, but Verdi was there before us.
A Triply Superb ‘Il Trittico'
BY JAY NORDLINGER [NY Sun, 23 April 2007]
Friday night was a fantastic night at the Metropolitan Opera. Why? On the stage was Puccini's superb triple bill, "Il Trittico." It appeared in a splendid new production by Jack O'Brien. In the cast, or casts, were some of our best singers, and most of them were in top form. James Levine was in the pit, and he, too, was in top form — which is some form. And the Met orchestra played sensationally well.
April 22, 2007
Satyagraha at ENO
Assembled from selected phrases of the Baghavada-Gita by librettist Constance de Jong, the opera was performed here entirely in unsurtitled Sanskrit, contrary to ENO’s “everything in English” policy. Presumably the thinking was that if a native English speaker chooses to write an opera in the language of the subject matter, then keeping the original language is key to preserving the integrity of the piece. In fact the entire libretto consists of just eighteen paragraphs of text, so along with the undulating repetitiveness of the score, each scene seems to hang entranced in mid-air. The work is, after all, a sequence of vast portraits of the promotion of passivity, rather than a living drama. A synopsis was supplied in the programme; however it provided context rather than actual plot.
The giant curved structure of the set was used to represent something between a holy book and a political memoir, by means of projected text and textual ornament which turned it from a corrugated-iron wall into an illuminated page. To this and the blank canvas of Glass’s music, the performance-art group Improbable brought their stunning brand of performance art, stilt-walking, aerobatics and puppetry. Scattered news pages and swathes of tape were formed into giant moving creatures, gods and political figures, then evaporated into air just as quickly. Hindu gods fought one another; giant grotesque figures walked amongst the buildings of a more modern world. And still the musical inertia continued.
Even within its stylistic context (that is to say, assuming that as an audience member one can absorb such a lengthy musical work where very little happens) the piece itself has structural failings, most noticeably the hole created by an over-long instrumental interlude preceding Gandhi’s Prayer in the third act.
The singing was of an exceptional standard almost throughout. Besides Alan Oke’s sincere, other-worldly tenor in the focal role of Gandhi, a large share of the credit should be given to conductor Johannes Debus and to ENO’s terrific chorus, particularly the men, who exhibited impressive rhythmic control as Act 2’s collective voice of complacent greed. Most of the principal cast were company regulars, although in her ENO debut as Miss Schlesen, the Greek-Australian soprano Elena Xanthoudakis made a hugely positive impression, with a secure purity to her meaty top notes. Indeed there were few vocal weaknesses — Jean Rigby’s Mrs Alexander had problems making herself audible, and Janis Kelly’s Mrs Naidoo experienced some intonation problems in her duet with Anne-Marie Gibbons’ Kasturbai.
This staging is a co-production with the Met, where it will be presented this time next year – and like ENO’s last Met collaboration (Anthony Minghella’s cinematically beautiful Madama Butterfly in 2005) is a visually breathtaking piece of theatre. Glass’s score, on the other hand, is more of an issue. It certainly creates a powerful atmosphere — but at over three hours of scales and repeated phrases, and with no character interaction or dialogue, can it even be thought of as an opera?
Ruth Elleson ©2007
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Mahatma-Gandhi.png image_description=Mahatma Gandhi product=yes product_title=Philip Glass: SatyagrahaEnglish National Opera, 13 April 2007 product_by=Click here for Satyagraha mini-site.
April 21, 2007
VERDI: Nabucco (Nabucodonosor)
Music composed by Giuseppe Verdi. Libretto by Temistocle Solera after Nabuccodonosor, a ballet by Antonio Cortesi, and Nabuchodonosor, a play by Auguste Anicet-Bourgeois and Francis Cornu.
First Performance: 9 March 1842, Teatro alla Scala, Milan.
| Principal Characters: | |
|---|---|
| Nabucodonosor, King of Babylon | Baritone |
| Ismaele, nephew of Sedecia, King of Jerusalem | Tenor |
| Zaccaria, High Priest of the Hebrews | Bass |
| Abigaille, a slave | Soprano |
| Fenena, daughter of Nabucodonosor | Soprano |
| The High Priest of Baal | Bass |
| Abdallo, elderly officer of the King of Babylon | Tenor |
| Anna, Zaccaria’s sister | Soprano |
Synopsis:
Part I
Nabucco, King of Babylon, has attacked the Israelites who, gathered in the temple of Solomon, pray for the salvation of Israel. The High Priest encourages them to have faith in their God, and says that he has a valuable hostage, Fenena, the daughter of Nabucco, Ismaele arrives, the nephew of the King of Jerusalem, to whom Zaccaria entrusts Fenena when he learns that Nabucco is making a furious entry into the city. Ismaele and Fenena, in love with each other, attempt to flee, but Abigaille — a slave believed to be Nabucco’s first daughter — bursts into the temple at the head of a band of Babylonian warriors disguised as Israelites. Abigaille, who unrequitedly loves Ismaele, accuses him of betraying his country but offers to save him if he will return her love. Nabucco now enters the temple but is confronted by Zaccaria, who threatens to kill Fenena if he profanes the sanctuary. As the High Priest is about to stab her, Ismaele disarms him: Fenena throws herself into the arms of Nabucco, who orders the destruction of the temple in revenge.
Part II
Having returned to Babylon, Abigaille learns from a document taken from Nabucco that she is a slave, and for this reason he has appointed Fenena regent in his absence. Furious with Nabucco and Fenena, who has been converted to the God of Israel, she attempts to wrest the crown from her but the King arrives and, snatching the crown from Abigaille and repudiating both the God of Babylon and the God of the Israelites, proclaims himself God. He is immediately struck down by a thunderbolt, and dementedly invokes Fenena’s aid while Abigaille picks up the crown.
Part III
Abigaille, having seized the throne, orders the death of all the Israelites. Nabucco enters in ragged clothing, claiming back the throne which Abigaille says she has occupied for the good of Baal, as he is deranged. She forces him to sign the Israelites’ death-warrant, but when Nabucco realizes that he has thus condemned Fenena he wants to retract, Abigaille is obdurate and has him led off to prison. On the banks of the Euphrates the Israelites, in chains, lament their fate.
Part IV
From prison Nabucco sees Fenena being dragged to her death and desperately begs forgiveness from the God of the Israelites. Restored to sanity, he escapes with a band of faithful soldiers and saves his daughter. The idol of Baal falls and shatters, and Nabucco extols the glory of Jehovah. Abigaille has taken poison but, on the point of death, she begs Fenena’s forgiveness and blesses her love for Ismaele, imploring God’s mercy. Nabucco is hailed by Zaccaria as the king of kings.
Click here for the complete libretto.
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Nebuchadnezzar_medium.png image_description=Nebuchadnezzar kills the children of the King Zedekiah by Gustave Doré (1866) [Source: 2 Kings 25: 1-7] audio=yes first_audio_name=Giuseppe Verdi: Nabucco (Nabucodonosor)Windows Media Player first_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Nabucco1.wax second_audio_name=Giuseppe Verdi: Nabucco (Nabucodonosor)
WinAMP or VLC second_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Nabucco1.m3u product=yes product_title=Giuseppe Verdi: Nabucco (Nabucodonosor) product_by=Abdallo: Luciano della Pergola
Abigaille: Maria Callas
Anna: Silvana Tenti
Fenena: Amalia Pini
The High Priest: Ighino Riccò
Ismaele: Gino Sinimberghi
Nabucco: Gino Bechi
Zaccaria: Luciano Neroni
Conductor: Vittorio Gui
Orchestra and Chorus of Teatro San Carlo, Napoli
Live performance, 20 December 1949, Naples
April 20, 2007
Da Corneto ready for 'cursed' opera
BY MIKE MITCHELL [Naperville Sun, 20 April 2007]
In 1960, American baritone Leonard Warren died on stage during a performance of Verdi's epic "La Forza del Destino." For years, many artists considered the opera cursed, in terms of vocal demands as well as its melodramatic plot.
Beauty Across the Board
BY JAY NORDLINGER [NY Sun, 20 April 2007]
The Finnish soprano Karita Mattila is a sensation on the operatic stage: as Salome, to name only one role. But she is also a sensation on the recital stage, as she proved at Carnegie Hall four years ago. That was a dazzling, foot-stomping event. And she was good on Wednesday night, too, in the same hall.
Met's `Trittico' . . .
By Stephen West [Bloomberg.com, 20 April 2007]
April 20 (Bloomberg) -- Jack O'Brien, the director of ``Hairspray,'' makes his Metropolitan Opera debut tonight staging Puccini's ``Il Trittico,'' a trio of short operas with good tunes. ``Il Tabarro'' culminates in a murder on a Parisian tugboat; ``Suor Angelica'' features a suicidal nun; in ``Gianni Schicchi,'' a comedy based on Dante, the wily title character impersonates a dead person and inherits a fortune.
The Rake’s Progress, La Monnaie, Brussels
By Francis Carlin [Financial Times, 19 April 2007]
The programme book, an imitation of Life magazine, sets the tone. Robert Lepage’s new production transposes Hogarth’s story to America in the 1950s when Stravinsky and librettists Auden and Kalman wrote the work. Tom is James Dean and Trulove is Rock Hudson as in the film Giant. The fleshpot is Hollywood and the satire is directed at vacuous TV culture.
April 19, 2007
PENDERECKI: Symphony no. 7
This oratorio-like work was commissioned to celebrate the third millennium of Jerusalem, and in approaching the work, Penderecki made some overt connections to the city. The traditional seven gates of the city in the title are reflected in the seven-movement structure of the work and, as indicated in the notes that accompany the recording, Penderecki used the figure seven in various ways throughout the work. By using texts from the Old Testament that call to mind various aspects of the city, not just as a place, but a site laden that anchors spiritual associations. (The texts for the movements are organized as set forth in the table below.)
A close reading of the text shows that Penderecki shaped the verbal content carefully. By selecting verses to be sung, he gave the text focus and clarity so that the piece could contain the specific phrases that he wanted to use, rather than carry along verses for the sake of completeness. Taken together, the verses for the first movement are, for example, essentially a new text, albeit one redolent of the psalter. With other movements, though, the choices are more complicated, and suggest an internal dialogue that places prophetic statements alongside the adulatory — or sometimes admonishing — ones from the psalms. With the last movement, to cite another example, it is possible to see a development of textual ideas, as Penderecki combines verses from three prophetic books, and then returns to the psalms, eventually bringing back the verse with which the Symphony opened. This suggests a level of composition that bears further consideration for the structural organization that is linked to the musical structure of the work.
As to the style of the work, Penderecki’s Symphony no. 7 is relatively conservative, with the nuances of texture and timbre having given way to some of the innovations associated with his earlier pieces. To put the Symphony in perspective, the comments of Adrian Thomas offer a point of departure. In discussing some of Penderecki’s later symphonies, Thomas suggests that: “Given that Penderecki’s focus is habitually on line, timbre, tempo and dynamics, his concert music of the past quarter century relies on plain-speaking rhetoric, on readily absorbed intervallic and rhythmic repetitions, and on the reinterpretation of models drawn from major symphonic composers of the past….” (Adrian Thomas, Polish Music since Szymanowski [Cambridge University Press, 2005] p. 251). This précis fits this work well, as it captures the stylistic elements that operate in this work. Like the symphoniae sacrae of seventeenth-century composers like Heinrich Schütz, Penderecki used voices and instruments to present concerted settings of texts from the Bible. The scope of Penderecki’s effort in his Seventh Symphony differs because of the multi-movement structure he used to create this musical reflection of the city of Jerusalem. In finding such a locus for his musical structure, Penderecki echoes, however distantly, his earlier Threnody for Victims of Hiroshima, another work in which the evocation of a city results in a work that has universal resonance.
This work also belongs to the choral symphony of the nineteenth century, reminiscent in a sense of Mahler’s Eighth Symphony for its use of voices throughout the work. Similarly, Mahler’s efforts to bring together different texts — in the case of the Eighth Symphony, the Latin hymn “Veni creator spiritus” and the final scene from the second part of Goethe’s Faust, Penderecki combined verses from various psalms, as well as different parts of the Old Testament. Psalms and prophetic texts are brought together in this Jerusalem-inspired work which, in this sense, reflects those aspects of the old city as a place of worship and a locus of prophetic vision. In this sense, it is a return to those seventeenth-century composers, whose works use large forces along with concertato sonorities to prsent biblical texts, but conceived along much larger lines.
While it is possible to find such lines of thought in the work, Penderecki’s Seventh Symphony also belongs to thecomposer’s other works in this genre. Composed over a quarter century, Penderecki’s symphonies differ from each other in ways reminiscent of Mahler of Shostakovich and, as with those composers, also reflect some aspects of Penderecki’s other music. With its use of Latin, it resembles the composer’s St. Luke Passion with a language that at once offers a lingual neutrality through a ritualistic, language that is no longer used in the vernacular.
Regarding the musical language, though, Penderecki uses blocks of sound that convey a sense of the solidity of his structure. The opening gesture itself presents an intensive mass on which he builds what becomes a refrain for the movement. The opening sounds of the chorus punctuated with percussion and intersected with low-brass figures is an impressive, almost ritualistic gesture that introduces the first movement. The tutti orchestral cadences further define the vocal phrases of this massively conceived piece, which offers a paean in music that transcends the artificial boundaries of religion. Yet as the text of the verses of the psalm occur, the subtler presentation with solo voices becomes a textural foil for the larger forces that occur in the refrain.With the second movement, Penderecki draws on the orchestra for gestures that set a different tone and at once suggests the Penderecki’s style in other, similar pieces for that combine orchestral forces with choral ones. At times the textures contain some distantly related sounds that, in turn, suggest musical space that reinforces the distance connoted in the text “If I forget you, Jerusalem.” As with the first movement, the second is effective in presenting its text in a unique way. In fact, each of the movements is distinct enough to stand on its own merits, yet when conceived together, form a cohesive symphonic structure.
The work is in Latin, with the sixth movement, the most dramatic of the entire work, in Hebrew, with the text from Ezekiel presented by a speaker. In this recording, Boris Carmeli, a voice otherwise associated with opera, is effective in presenting the text with aplomb and clear enunciation. This piece moves away from the choral forces, to create a different kind of sound through the combination of spoken text with the pointillistic orchestral texture that supports it. While the work is well served with the solo voices that occur in various movements, the use of spoken work calls attention to the text, which demands notice because of the chosen mode of presentation that takes the words outside the bounds of singing. As such, the composer demands attention to the text, and thus forces this piece to stand apart from the other movements. At times unsettling, the movement is an effective setting of a challenging text that holds a crucial place within the overall framework of the Symphony.
With several recordings of this work available, audiences have the rare opportunity to select between various performances. This reading by Antoni Wit has much to offer through its highly polished and finely shaped choral sonorities, and equally adept instrumental forces. Naxos has made much of Penderecki’s music available through recordings that are at once reliable and affordable, and the addition of this title to its offerings should bring this powerful work to a wide, international audience. In this work the twentieth-century symphony, which has been a mode of expression for Polish modernists, takes on new formal dimensions in one of Penderecki’s fine recent pieces.
James L. Zychowicz
| Mvt | Title | Texts | |
|---|---|---|---|
| 1. | Magnus Dominus et laudabilis nimis in civitate | Great is the Lord, and to be praised | Psalm 47 (48):1 Psalm 95 (96):1-3 Psalm 47 (48):1 Psalm 4 (487:13 Psalm 47 (48):1 |
| 2. | Si oblitus fuero tui, Ierusalem | If I forget you, Jerusalem | Psalm 136 (137):5 |
| 3. | De profundis clamavi ad te, Domine | Out of the depths, have I called you, O Lord | Psalm 129 (130): 1-5 |
| 4. | Si oblitus fuero tui, Ierusalem | If I forget you, Jerusalem | Psalm 136 (137):5 Isaiah 26:2 Isaiah 52:1 Psalm 136 (137):5 |
| 5. | Lauda, Ierusalem, Dominum | Praise the Lord, Jerusalem | Psalm 147:12-14 |
| 6. | Hajetà alai jad adonài, | The hand of the Lord was upon me | Ezekiel 37: 1-10 |
| 7. | Haec dicit Dominus | Thus says the Lord | Jeremiah 21:8 Daniel 7:13 Isaiah 59:19 Isaiah 60:1-2 Psalm 47 (48):1 Isaiah 60:11 Psalm 95 (96):1; 2-3 Psalm 47 (48):1 Psalm 47(48):13 Psalm 47(48):1 Psalm 47(48):13 |
(Full text and translation available here.) product_id=Naxos 8.557766 [CD] price=$7.99 product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/Drilldown?name_id1=9281&name_role1=1&comp_id=89429&bcorder=15&label_id=19
April 18, 2007
Drama at Vienna opera: Who will be its new leader?
By Mark Landler [International Herald Tribune, 18 April 2007]
VIENNA: Alfred Gusenbauer vividly recalls his earliest nights at the opera. As a son of working-class parents, who came to Vienna from the provinces to study, he spent precious shillings to stand at the rear of the horseshoe-shaped auditorium in the Vienna opera house.
April 16, 2007
MAHLER: Des Knaben Wunderhorn
In addition to the song cycles entitled Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen, Kindertotenlieder, and the symphony-song cycle Das Lied von der Erde, Mahler’s settings from Des Knaben Wunderhorn remain a central part of his musical legacy, since the are connected directly to the composer's symphonies. As some of Mahler's best-known music, the songs are not only familiar, but also convey their meaning directly to the listen. More importantly, some recordings, like this one, capture the spirit of the music. The fine attention to detail, including orchestration, tempo, and balance, earmark the approach that Philippe Herreweghe took in these performances of the selection of Mahler’s settings from the anthology Des Knaben Wunderhorn.
The Wunderhorn settings encompass about half of Mahler’s Lieder, with the ones he composed in the 1880s for voice and piano. Yet with the Wunderhorn songs that he composed in the 1890s, Mahler not only used piano accompaniment, but also scored the songs for voice and orchestra. Of the orchestral Wunderhorn-Lieder includes twelve settings, and Mahler composed two later songs from the same anthology several years later, “Revelge” and “Der Tamboursg’sell.” Several of the songs are also found in his symphonies, including “Urlicht” from the Second and “Es sungen drei Engel” from the Third, and in recent years “Das himmlische Leben” from the Fourth Symphony has been performed along with others songs, instead of in the symphonic context Mahler created for it.
For this recording, Herreweghe chose fourteen settings, which comprise a fine representation of this part of Mahler’s oeuvre. The singers involved are the mezzo soprano Sarah Connolly and the baritone Dietrich Henschel, who divide the pieces almost evenly between them. Since Mahler created settings for vocal ranges, such as high or low voices, rather than designating vocal types, it is not possible to distinguish between songs for male or female voice. Some of the songs lend themselves to this, while others have associations with a gender as a result of the existing performing tradition. Thus, it is customary to hear a female voice sing “Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt,” but not necessarily the only way to do so. In Herreweghe’s recording, Henschel performs this song, one that some male singers do not attempt. Yet with “Wer hat dies Liedlein erdacht?!”, a song with similar melismatic passages, women often perform it, as Connolly does in this recording.
Elsewhere, the texts of some of the songs are constructed as dialogues between lovers that some conductors have divided between two singers. In a respected – some would say classic – recording of these songs by George Szell (conducting the London Symphony Orchestra), a dialogue song, like “Lied der Verfolgten im Turm” is shared by Elizabeth Schwarzkopf and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, with each singer alternating by gender. There is no indication in Mahler’s scores for a second singer, and Herreweghe does not use this practice on this recording. (Henschel was given “Lied der Verfolgten im Turm.”) The literal application of “him” and “her” (“er” and “sie,” as sometimes rendered in the anthology Des Knaben Wunderhorn) to specific voices is not necessary, and talented singers, like those involved with this recording, can use their voices to convey the meaning of the text.
Beyond these considerations, one of the remarkable features of this recording is the effective performance and recording of the accompaniments. While a number of fine performances are available on CD, this particular one stands out for the nuances that emerge readily and consistently in this set. The motum perpetuum figuration at the beginning of “Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt” is subtle, as it helps to set up the various other figures that occur later in the song, including the sometimes dry timpani strokes that are entirely appropriate to the piece. Likewise, the brass execute their parts without overpowering the singer or overbalancing the vocal line. A similar balance in the brass occurs in “Trost in Unglück,” where those instruments must support the voice without covering it. Yet the prominent brass at the conclusion of “Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen” are appropriate, especially when the suggestion of the “Bruder Martin” theme used in the penultimate movement of the First Symphony emerges clearly. In all of this, the fine ensemble that characterizes some of Herreweghe’s approach to other composers serves Mahler’s music well. The fresh and full sound that emerges in each of the songs is a welcome addition to the discography. While individuals may have recordings they prefer for the singers involved, this is one of those instances where the accompaniment serves the orchestral Lieder in ways that other recordings sometimes fall short.
Yet the voices are not without interest, as Connolly and Henschel offer their interpretations of these familiar pieces. To hear “Das himmlische Leben” outside the Fourth Symphony is a bit jarring for those who know the latter work. Only recently has this song been included with the works that Mahler designated as Wunderhorn Lieder, and such presentation suggests the other context of the song, the set of Humoresken in which Mahler at one time included the song soon it. While it properly belongs to the work in which the composer left it, his Fourth Symphony, since its presentation there is the culmination of various thematic links serve to introduce the song in the three movements that precede it. When performed with other orchestral songs, the listener does not have the benefit of such thematic links, and so it must stand on its own merits. Nevertheless, Herreweghe’s tempos are convincing, and most of all, the sometimes full accompaniment is never strident or out of place. At the same time Connolly demonstrates a sensitive approach to a song that resists being oversung, that is, overly interpreted. She is effective in allowing the vocal line to emerge without affectation, and the result is quite satisfying.
Henschel also offers some fine performances. He has taken on some of Mahler’s longer Wunderhorn Lieder, like “Der Tamboursg’sell” and “Revelge,” and as demanding as those pieces are, he demonstrates a fine sense of Mahler’s style in some of the shorter songs, like “Lob des hohen Verstandes.” In the latter, he works well with Herreweghe in conveying the sense of irony that makes the song memorable.
Overall, though, it is not one voice over another that comes across as meriting attention, nor should it be that way. The orchestra emerges as a critical element of this recording, since the ensemble and its interactions create some vibrant performances of these songs. At its head, though, is Herreweghe, who brings a fine sense of style and musicianship to Mahler’s orchestral Lieder. It is a recording that stands well besides some of the familiar and respected ones in the discography of Mahler’s music.
James Zychowicz
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Wunderhorn.png image_description=Gustav Mahler: Des Knaben Wunderhorn product=yes product_title=Gustav Mahler: Des Knaben Wunderhorn product_by=Sarah Connelly, mezzo soprano, Dietrich Henschel, baritone, Orchestre des Champs-Élysées, Philippe Herreweghe (cond.) product_id=Harmonia Mundi HMC901920 [CD] price=$18.99 product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/Drilldown?name_id1=7537&name_role1=1&comp_id=19725&genre=134&bcorder=195&name_id=56083&name_role=3‘Giulio Cesare': Et Tu, New Met?
By Jay Nordlinger [NY Sun, 16 April 2007]
Handel's "Giulio Cesare," or "Julius Caesar," is now playing at the Metropolitan Opera. And I like to describe it as a three-hour series of highlights. Handel gives you one hit after another, one immortal aria or duet after another. The inspiration never quits. In this, the opera is not unlike "Messiah." "Julius Caesar" is one of the most awesome bursts of creativity in music.
Pushkin/Prokofiev 'Godunov' finally realized
By David Patrick Stearns [Philidelphia Inquirer, 16 April 2007]
PRINCETON - Academia is the best home for the impossible. Such was the task at hand for the provocative, extravagant Princeton University-produced Boris Godunov - not the famous opera, but the Alexander Pushkin play as it might have been rendered by legendary director Vsevolod Meyerhold with music by Sergei Prokofiev.
Inventive staging, skilled cast bring 1836 drama to life
By Anne Marie Welsh [San Diego Union-Tribune, 16 April 2007]
Eighty-two years is a long time to wait for the work that launched 20th-century music drama. The wait ended Saturday – and a door to its future may have opened, too – with the San Diego Opera's first production of Alban Berg's “Wozzeck” (1925) in an innovative, fluent, surprisingly somber staging directed by the Tony-winning director emeritus of La Jolla Playhouse, Des McAnuff.
In search of a distant sound
A composer's opera finally makes its arrival in America
By Jeremy Eichler [15 April 2007, Boston Globe]
This afternoon at New York's Lincoln Center, the American Symphony Orchestra will perform an opera by Franz Schreker titled "Der Ferne Klang" or "The Distant Sound." It is, astonishingly, the first professional performance of any complete Schreker opera in North America. And herein lies a strange story, one of the great disappearing acts of modern music history.
City Opera Presents La Donna del Lago
Although the New York Times regarded the straight-forward plot as purely conventional we experienced the adaptation of Sir Walter Scott’s The Lady of the Lake as somewhat unusual opera seria largely because the ending was happy, the king did not get the girl, and the only death occurred off-stage. Briefly, the plot consists of three men who each love Elena (the title character): Rodrigo, who has been promised her hand in marriage by her father; Uberto, the king of Scotland in disguise (a surprise to us all at the very end); and Malcolm, a handsome young man with few credentials to recommend him to her father other than the deep love he and Elena share.
La Donna has grown in popularity lately due to the diligence of musicologist Philip Gossett, who worked with Marilyn Horne in reviving Semiramide. La Donna also has a pants role—Elena’s young lover Malcolm is cast as a mezzo-soprano—and like Semiramide, it is the soprano/mezzo-soprano love duets that offer the most musically sensual moments.
Laura Vlasak Nolen as Malcolm stirred what was otherwise a somewhat sleepy matinee audience on Saturday, March 24, rousing them to cheers with her first-act aria, an electric out-pouring of love for the absent Elena. Nolen’s duets with Alexandrina Pendatchanska as Elena were also cause for much applause.
Pendatchanska’s voice and training were well-suited to the bel canto role of Elena, but she was at times hard to hear, possibly because the orchestra was overpowering her extremely florid and delicate sound. The two high tenors, characteristic of Rossini but a rare find nowadays, were also impressive. Robert MacPherson as Rodrigo was a very commanding presence, if somewhat inconsistent; we particularly were impressed with his energy in his first aria. The role of Uberto was ably filled by tenor Barry Banks who has a close performing relationship with Pendatchanska. Elena’s controlling father Douglas was performed by Daniel Mobbs.
The orchestra also performed admirably. The musicians handled the challenges of Rossini well, keeping the scales clean and the touch light. The woodwinds are to be especially commended for their solos in the overture. Too, offstage horns heralding the onset of war created some of the greatest spatial effects of the opera.
The set and costumes were designed by David Zinn, who characteristically employed lots of brick in his set design. The overall feeling was somewhat claustrophobic, especially in the scene inside Elena’s home where the wings moved inward and the towering walls reached the fly. Still, you must admire the man who tries to portray a lake with a wall of bricks. The uncomfortable effect was heightened by the presence of numerous stiff-looking chairs that were toted about the stage by stern women dressed in black. One other moment was particularly unfortunate in large part because of the set and staging: although the first duet of the opera was well-sung and dramatically acted, the mood was ruined by laughter elicited from the audience when Elena and her suitor Uberto exited the stage in a boat that was ostensibly carrying them across the lake.
Overall, City Opera’s production of La Donna had an emotional impact that was greater then the sum of its parts. While the audience seemed somewhat disinterested, we found the singers strong and Rossini’s music beautiful. A unique work in the canon, we are truly appreciative of the effort given on all fronts to put on this gem.
Sarah Gerk
Megan Jenkins
April 15, 2007
RIMSKY-KORSAKOV: Sadko
Judging by a comparison of timings, this is presumably the same performance that produced the audio recording of the work released on CD by Philips several years ago. Gergiev and the Kirov Opera have here added most significantly to their ongoing project of awakening the rest of the world to the vast treasures of Russian opera that lie beyond the better known Boris Godunov, Eugene Onegin, and Ruslan and Lyudmila, for example. In particular, their CD releases of the operas of Rimsky-Korskaov have been an exciting chapter in this project, and one can only hope that the present video release is the first step in the DVD counterpart of that chapter.
Those familiar only with Rimsky-Korsakov’s orchestral works (Scherezade, Russian Easter Festival Overture, Capriccio Espagnol) would hardly be surprised by the brilliance of the orchestral pallet in his operas – except that in the variety and imagination of his scoring he exceeds in them even the deserved credit for the path-breaking achievements of his concert works. That his operas should have called forth his best efforts in this regard is certainly reasonable, as generally they are less true operas than illustrations in sound of scenes from Russian stories and legends. One searches in vain for gripping drama, vast historical canvases, or keen psychological insights and character development, possibly one reason that Sadko, certainly one of the greatest of Rimsky’s fifteen completed operas, is so seldom seen in Western opera houses. As the composer himself admits in his memoir, My Musical Life, “The folk-life and the fantastic elements in Sadko do not, by their nature, offer purely dramatic claims” (from the Joffe translation, New York, 1972).
Of course, an essentially negative description of how Rimsky-Korsakov conceived many of his operas misses the point. His clear intent was to encapsulate the cultural flavor of Russia through adapting its stories into episodic sequences of colorful scenes enlivened by atmospheric music. The subtitle of the present work clearly reflects this intent: a bylina is an epic folk tale, and the apt term “tableaux” shows clearly that Rimsky-Korsakov was thinking visually rather than in “acts.” Furthermore, it would hardly be an exaggeration to say that musical concerns, rather than textual details, were uppermost in the composer’s mind, to the extent that an 1867 symphonic poem – Sadko, Op. 5 – provided him with both inspiration and raw musical material for the opera he completed some thirty years later (the opera was completed in 1896, first performed in public in 1897). That he remained drawn to this character and his story throughout this period is demonstrated by the several revisions he made to the original orchestral work prior to beginning the composition of the opera. Further evidence of symphonic influence lies in the motivic interconnections that bind together various scenic and character elements in the opera.
Sadko is a work dominated by the sea. The basis of the tale may be summed up by saying that the hero, Sadko, falls in love with Princess Volkhova, daughter of the Sea King, and, true to her promise, eventually finds himself in her father’s undersea kingdom where he claims her hand. On their return to his native Novgorod, she sacrifices herself to become a river, the Volkhov, which then forms a waterway to the inland city and thus ensures its economic prosperity. It is in the aural evocation of the sea that Rimsky Korsakov’s masterful use of the orchestra is at its most brilliant: The Introduction (“The Blue Sea”), the music that introduces Tableau VI in the Sea King’s palace, and the transformation music as Princess Volkhova becomes the Volkhov River in Tableau VII are but three of the most engaging examples of the composer’s magical scene painting. One is hard-pressed not to draw comparisons with his contemporaries, Ravel and Debussy, comparisons by which Rimsky-Korsakov would hardly come off as second-best. His expanded harmonic language alone, particularly in these scenes, markedly strengthens the similarities.
Conductor Valery Gergiev leads his very capable Kirov Orchestra with great sensitivity to the colors and textures of these and many other passages in Sadko, and the sound engineers have created an aural feast worthy of the players’ laudable efforts. In the passages cited above, the lighting effects, beautifully conceived throughout the work, are especially worth mentioning, as they complement the “water music” superbly. The set design and costume work likewise fulfill completely their important roles of establishing the Russian folk atmosphere while also providing a beautiful and colorful backdrop for the various scenes.
Vocally, a central and very satisfying part of this presentation is that provided by the Kirov Opera Chorus, which has plenty of opportunity to shine as a virtual protagonist in the various village scenes. They sing with power, beauty, and excellent ensemble, balancing perfectly the prominent role of the orchestra. Turning to the soloists, the three merchants, Bulat Minjelkiev, Alexander Gergalov, and Gegam Grigorian, are each outstanding in their contrasting and memorable appearances in Tableau IV; Grigorian’s interpretation of the justly famous “Song of India” is particular noteworthy. Sergei Aleksashkin uses his stentorian and characteristically Russian bass to good effect as the Sea King. Among the women, gusli-player Nezhata is well-portrayed by Larissa Diadkova, and Marianna Tarassova gives Sadko’s earth-bound and temporarily jilted wife Lyubava Buslayevna an appropriately emotional characterization. On the less satisfying side, Valentina Tsidipova, despite her beautiful if light lyric soprano, lacks the vocal depth to carry off the role of Princess Volkhova adequately. This brings us to the major disappointment here, and it is a serious one: tenor Vladimir Galusin in the title role. Admittedly, the demands on him are heavy and virtually continuous throughout the work, but Galusin rises to them only occasionally. His voice frequently sounds strained and, on more than one occasion, his intonation is annoyingly faulty.
On balance, however, even lacking a satisfactory Sadko, this production is so strong and so satisfying overall that it should immediately find its way into the collection of anyone serious about Russian opera and especially of anyone who has not yet discovered this repertoire. Visually and aurally stunning, this production will withstand repeated viewing and thus comes highly recommended.
Roy J. Guenther
The George Washington University
Handel's Flavio at NYCO
From David Zinn’s fantastic sets to the gender-bending casting to the non sequitur romp through human emotion with every new scene, the production was a delight to behold, though I fear that the novelty of combining two counter tenors and a pants role trumped all else that was wonderful.
Flavio is characteristic of full-length Handel opera, deftly combining the tragic and comic as Mozart and Rossini would later do. An on-stage death and subsequent lament is followed immediately by a comic scene involving a love triangle, which is in turn followed by a scene in which one of our heroes pleads with his love to kill him. There is always danger that such manic drama will jar the senses a bit too much, but Flavio is one of the more subtle examples in Handel’s oeuvre.
The potpourri was emphasized by Zinn’s colorful sets and costumes. Fanciful greens, pinks, yellows, and blues combined to embolden the incongruities of the work. One of the most prominent sets was a high grassy hedge, on which hung lamps belonging inside. The hedge functioned alternately as garden and throne room, leaving the audience to incorporate grass in the royal chamber and fancy lighting in the great outdoors. The costuming was equally as creative; at one point Theodata, played by Kathryn Allyn, donned the baroque version of a French maid costume.
Make no mistake, however, the night belonged to the performers, especially the high-pitched male heroes of the story. Two lead roles in this opera were written for castrati, with a third pants role to boot. While revered and sexually desired in their day, the operation involved in creating the castrato voice has since understandably fallen out of favor. So we have counter tenors instead. City Opera conveyed to the audience the import of having two men sing their falsetto out in the six-page preparatory essay in the program booklet. The article explicated the history of castrati and the modern rise of the counter tenor, which author Marion Lignana Rosenberg links to the contemporary early music revival. Rosenberg also mentions the gender issues inherent when men sing in traditionally female registers, likening the operatic trend to the popularity of high-pitched male crooners in pop music.
Indeed, although the counter tenor voice is both aesthetically beautiful and fascinating from the perspective of the historian, gender issues were key in the audience’s reception of Flavio. And how could they not be? In this city, in this business, at a critical time in the gay rights movement, it is natural and healthy that an opera with two fabulous men playing the studly heroes and a woman as the third-most-testosterone-filled character comes to the fore. And so it was that the audience’s awareness of these issues was palpable. There was dead silence, the likes of which I’ve hardly experienced, during the first counter tenor aria of the evening (ably sung by Gerald Thompson), and later giggles as Emilia, Guido’s love interest, sang “when it comes to odd lovers” (these among a slew of further examples I could note).
If members of the audience did tear their minds from such novelty, they heard a sound and capable cast. David Walker was returning to the title role, and he handled the mood changes deftly all the while singing a massive range of notes. Gerald Thompson as Guido filled the other counter tenor role. His voice was more developed although his acting left much to be desired. Katherine Rohrer played Vitige, Flavio’s servant who outwits his (or her?) master to get the girl in the end, a power play redolent of later Mozart and Rossini. Ms. Rohrer has a sweet and clear voice and first-rate comedic timing. Kathryn Allyn’s deep mezzo was well served in the role of Theodata, and Marguerite Krull sang beautifully as Emilia, especially in the lament. Indeed, Ms. Krull proved to be the most adept Handel interpreter of the bunch with her florid, effortless cadenzas. Notable too was the period orchestra, lead by William Lacey on the harpsichord. Their ensemble skills and obvious diligent work at authenticity were admirable.
In all, the New York City Opera’s production of Flavio was at once delightfully whimsical and timely. All elements pulled together to create a wonderfully incongruous whole. May we see many more such gender-bending productions in the future!
Sarah Gerk
image=http://www.operatoday.com/walker_david.png image_description=David Walker (Photo: David Rodgers) product=yes product_title=Above: David Walker (Photo: David Rodgers)ROSSINI: Mosè
Music composed by Gioachino Rossini. Libretto by Luigi Balocchi and Étienne de Jouy, Italian translation by Calisto Bassi.
First Performance: 26 March 1827, Opéra, Paris
| Principal Characters: | |
| Mosè, the Hebrews’ lawgiver | Bass |
| Elisero, his brother | Tenor |
| Faraone, King of Egypt | Bass |
| Aménofi, his son | Tenor |
| Aufide, Egyptian officer | Tenor |
| Osiride, High Priest | Bass |
| Maria, sister of Mosè | Mezzo-Soprano |
| Anaìde, her daughter | Soprano |
| Sinaide, wife of Faraone | Soprano |
| A mysterious voice | Bass |
Setting: Ancient Egypt
Synopsis:
Moses promises to lead the Israelites out of captivity in Egypt. Anaïs and her mother have been released by Pharoah on the intervention of Queen Sinaïs, who is sympathetic to the Israelites. Anaïs loves Pharoah's son, but intends to leave with her people, while her lover Amenophis has decided she must stay. Moses brings upon Egypt the plague of darkness. This is raised, with freedom again promised, while Pharoah has arranged a marriage for his son Amenophis with an Assyrian princess, to his distress. The High Priest Osiris demands that Moses pay reverence to Isis before the Israelites leave. Moses refuses and the Israelites are sent away in chains. Amenophis and Anaïs meet, he still hoping that their love may be permitted. He warns her that Pharoah's army is pursuing the Israelites, who are now triumphantly led by Moses across the Red Sea, while Pharoah's men are drowned.
Rossini adapted his earlier opera Mosè in Egitto (Moses in Egypt) as Moïse et Pharaon, ou Le passage de la Mer Rouge (Moses and Pharoah, or The Passage of the Red Sea) for Paris, with a new libretto, creating the necessary grand opera spectacle that France demanded. Staging of the French version of the work makes obviously heavier demands on resources. This second opera for Paris marks a further step by Rossini towards his fourth and final opera for the French capital, Guillaume Tell (William Tell).
Click here for the complete libretto.
image=http://www.operatoday.com/moses.png image_description=Moses by Rembrandt Harmensz. van Rijn (1659) audio=yes first_audio_name=Gioachino Rossini: MosèWindows Media Player first_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Mose1.wax second_audio_name=Gioachino Rossini: Mosè
WinAMP or VLC second_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Mose1.m3u product=yes product_title=Gioachino Rossini: Mosè product_by=Nicola Rossi-Lemeni (Mosè), Anita Cerquetti (Anaide), Agostino Lazzari (Elisero), Giuseppe Taddei (Faraone), Gianni Jaja (Amenofi), Tommaso Frascati (Aufide), Plinio Clabassi (Osiride), Anna Maria Rota (Maria), Rosanna Carteri (Sinaide), Coro e Orchestra della RAI di Roma, Tullio Serafin (cond.)
Live broadcast, 27 June 1956, Rome
April 12, 2007
Passion, pain paired in Berlin
On April 4, for example, Kurt Nagano conducted the Deutsche Sinfonie Orchester in Bach’s Passion According to St. Matthew in the now 40-year-old Philharmonie, widely cherished as the world’s most perfect concert hall.
Earlier on that day the press was invited to preview an exhibition in the Hamburger Bahnhof, one of the many sites of Berlin’s National Gallery. Title — and subject — of the show, a collaboration with the Charité’ the Berlin hospital that dates from the 18th century — is “Schmerz/Pain,” the phenomenon that for centuries has perplexed doctors — and inspired artists.
For the visitor the juxtaposition of “Schmerz” and Bach’s Passion enriched the Easter week with provocation and profundity, for the opening section of the exhibition is focused on Christ’s Crucifixion, the primary experience of pain so central to Christian culture. Paintings on display reach from an anonymous 1470 work to Francis Bacon’s 1965 “Crucifixion” triptych. And the interest that modern medicine has taken in this chapter of intense suffering is documented through a multitude of references, including the 1948 experiment of Frederick T. Zugibe, an American forensic specialist who suspended his assistant from a cross to measure the forces involved. Also on display is a 1700 study by Martin von Cochen, who assembled a catalog of 5475 wounds inflicted on Christ’s body, plus 110 blows to his face.
The greater issue within the exhibition is the degree to which the torture of Christ has tempered the approach to pain within Western culture. Also of concern is the consequent emphasis upon compassion for this miraculous man-become-God. To the musical-minded, however, of central interest is a small room focused on Bach’s St. Matthew Passion. Du”rer’s woodcut series on the Crucifixion hang on the walls. A page of the Passion manuscript from the German State Library is on display, and at four locations open scores and headsets pinpoint sections of the work that concentrate on Christ’s physical suffering. (In an adjacent room Nathalie Djurberg’s cartoon video of a woman whipping a man offsets the solemnity of Bach. The caption reads: “Just because you are suffering doesn’t make you Jesus.”)
A unique — even if unintended — prologue to the St. Matthew Passion, “Schmerz” left the listener doubly receptive to Nagano’s carefully understated interpretation of the work. Indeed, although performed on modern instruments (except for the group of period instruments that accompanied arias), the performance underscored the wide influence that the early-music movement has had on performances of Bach. Nagano often stood near motionless during arias and was otherwise content to involve himself only in choruses and chorales, the latter sung with winning innocence by the Windsbach Boys Choir.
Yet his reserve in no way reduced the drama of the score that is the closest Bach came to writing an opera. Tenor Martin Petzold brought “you-are-there” urgency to the Evangelist, suggesting that he is more an on-the-scene reporter than a mere narrator. And Dietrich Henschel, elsewhere a seductive Giovanni and as a Lieder artist often called the successor to Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, was a monumental Christ.
Nagano’s St. Matthew was one of a plethora of Berlin Bach performances during the Easter season, a richness that emphasizes the Bach tradition in the city that goes back to Felix Mendelssohn’s reintroduction of the then largely forgotten work in 1829, 102 years after its premiere in Leipzig’s Thomaskirche. This “come-back,” which led one critic to place Bach in the company of Shakespeare, amazed even Eduard Devrient, the bass who sang Christ in the 1829 performance. During rehearsals, however, he had questioned just what this 20-year-old “Jew boy” was up to with this daring endeavor.
Of course, Mendelssohn — his father had converted to Christianity — knew great music when he saw it. At 14 he had asked for a copy of the St. Matthew score for Christmas and a year later he, who on a visit to Weimar had played from the “Well-Tempered Clavier” for the aged Goethe, and sister Fanny joined the Singakadamie, which sang Bach — including the St. John Passion — for its own pleasure, but never in public. (Mendelssohn’s grandmother Sara Levi was once a favorite student of Wilhelm Friedemann Bach.)
Bach — as Nagano made clear with this Passion week performance that packed the Philharmonie — remains a way of life in Berlin. “Schmerz” is on display through August 5. The Hamburger Bahnhof, Invalidenstrasse 50-51, is a short walk from the Hauptbahnhof, Berlin’s spectacular new central railway station.
Wes Blomster
image=http://www.operatoday.com/StMatthew.png image_description=Holy Apostle MatthewApril 11, 2007
L’invitation au voyage: Mélodies from La belle époque
Recorded on 2 to 4 June 2004, this collection of French mélodies from the end of the nineteenth century is a fine addition to Hyperion’s French Song Edition. John Mark Ainsley and Graham Johnson are well suited to the repertoire presented here, and this particular selection of pieces plays off a theme that was popular at the time, the prospect of journeying elsewhere. The responses in song are varied, and include a number of settings of the eponymous verse by Baudelaire that inspired a number of composers to embark on their own settings of his text. This is, in a sense, the French Belle Époque equivalent of the German Romantic “Kennst du das Land?” that intrigued generations of composers to fashion their own musical expressions of this well-known verse.
While Duparc’s setting of “L’Invitation au voyage” is probably the most famous, the others presented here merit attention for the nuances they bring to the poem. The one by Jules Cressonnois that opens the recording is engaging because of the combination of dramatic lines with more lyric ones, suggesting the tension present in voyaging away form the familiar. Other settings of the same text are included here, namely those by Benjamin Godard, Paul and Lucien Hillemacher and, naturally, Henri Duparc, and each presents an individual interpretation of the text. If a voyage entails a return, though, the placement of Duparc’s familiar “L’invitation au voyage” at the end provides a musical anchor in having a familiar mélodie at the conclusion of a set of otherwise unfamiliar, yet equally engaging music.
Beyond the composers listed above, there are songs by Léo Delibes, Charles Lecocq, Émile Pesard, Paul Puget, and Émile Paladilhe, and the poets outside of Baudelaire include Émile Augier, Alfred de Musset, Armand Silvestre, Jean de La Fontaine, Théophile Gautier, Victor Hugo, Sully Prodhomme, Pierre Corneille, Jean Aicard, and Jean Lahor. Of the familiar figures like Corneille, Hugo, and Musset, their names may not y draw associations with vocal music as readily as they do other genres. Yet their poetry inspired composers of this generation, and the music retains a freshness that resembles some of the art and architecture of the period in which it was written.
“Bonjour, Suzon” by Delibes is a case in point, with its extroverted address to Suzon — Suzanne — who remains absent to the traveler who is addressing her in the song. In the three strophes of unrequited entreaty, the repeated greeting of “bonjourn” becomes at the end “adieu” as the speaker makes in case in repeated efforts to speak to her. His voyages are met with a different situation at home, but the music suggests that it is not entirely tragic. It is hardly a sentimental piece, but the song that follows, “Regrets” by the same composer offers such poignancy. Here the accompaniment complements the vocal line by reinforcing the implied mood with some finely place chromatic inflections.
A similarly notable accompaniment occurs in “Guitare,” Godard’s setting of a poem by Hugo, and a charming piece. While the harmonic and melodic idiom is conservative, the song is crafted artfully to suit a gifted singer with the sense of nuance that Ainsley brings to this and other pieces in the collection. It is, perhaps, more rhythmically inventive than some of the other songs on this recording. While the rhythmic play is unmistakably intended to suggest the guitar, the syncopations play against the more regular accents in the text. A popular text at the time, the simply stated text implies a dramatic moment that attracted other composers to this poem, like Puget. In fact, the latter setting differs dramatically from Godard’s in its elegiac character and fervent tone.
Some of the pieces are simply exuberant, as with Lecocq’s “La cigale et la fourmi,” an encapsulation in verse of the story about the grasshopper and the ant. It is, as the comments in the accompanying booklet, a sophisticated piece that takes inspiration from the fables of La Fontaine, as “La chauve-souris et les deux belettes” (“The bat the two weasels”) that follows it in the recording and suggests the range of topics — and literature — that could be encompassed in this repertoire and which inspired composers’ musical imaginations.
This is a fine collection of French song from the Belle Époque, and those unfamiliar with the range of composers who worked at the time will find a solid introduction in this recording. The notes that accompany the recording are intelligent and perceptive and point to the deep know of the music that Graham Johnson has already shown in the material he has contributed to other Hyperion recordings. His accompanying is masterful, with thoughtful phrasing and careful dynamics. His interpretations remain solid and convincing. Moreover, John Mark Ainsley is in his element in these songs, and he brings to the repertoire a vibrant deliver that demonstrates his own immersion in the repertoire. Those who know his voice from other Hyperion collections have the privilege of hearing an entire album by this accomplished tenor. His approach is always well thought, with clear diction and apt expression. Ainsley and Graham Johnson have made a fine contribution to the discography of French song with this collection of melodies from a fascinating period in French music.
James Zychowicz
image=http://www.operatoday.com/L%27invitation.png image_description=L’invitation au voyage: Mélodies from La belle époque product=yes product_title=L’invitation au voyage: Mélodies from La belle époque product_by=John Mark Ainsley, tenor. Graham Johnson, piano product_id=Hyperion CDA67523 [CD] price=$18.99 product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/album.jsp?album_id=137925WAGNER: Lohengrin
Often enough, that means listening past audience or stage noise captured by poorly directed in-house mics, or distant sound from disintegrating tapes. In the case of this 1985 Lohengrin from Mulhouse, a different accommodation must be made. The sound level has been set painfully high. Listeners can turn down the volume, but that dulls the acoustic. Your reviewer made the adjustment best suited to his hearing, and gladly, because the performance is quite exciting.
The cast list doesn’t boast starry names, but the voices are all suited to their roles. Heikki Siukola gets the lengthiest section of Andrew Palmer’s well-written notes, describing a varied and interesting career. His strong yet sweet voice encompasses the role’s demands, although in a highlight such as “In Fernem land,” some might miss a touch of individuality in expression. Evelyn Brunner’s effective Elsa also lacks that quality, and once or twice one questions if it is the drama or the musical line that is stretching her voice.
As is so often the case, the Ortrud and Telramund steal the show. Nadine Denize, based on this recording, had a large voice, with a secure and potent top. From her very first utterances, Ortrud’s malevolent strength comes through. Ekkehard Wlaschihia matches Denize for intensity.
The Rhin-Mulhouse orchestra is led by Theodor Guschbauer, who does not dilly-dally. This is a Lohengrin that pushes forward with tragic momentum. Gala did well to choose this performance for release, but in their zeal to fill up the third CD with more music, they have broken up the last two acts at awkward places.
The further selections are from a 1977 Bayrischen Staatsoper Don Carlos, with a much more renowned cast than the Wagner. Ruggero Raimondi sings Filippo, Raina Kabaivanska is his wife, Franco Tagliavini, his son Carlos, and Renato Bruson sings as Carlos’s friend Posa. Nadine Denize is the connection to the Wagner; all the selections, about 40 minutes worth, feature her. Denize’s Eboli is as powerful as her Ortrud, though unsurprisingly her large instrument feels just a bit unwieldy in the “Veil song.”
Unfortunately, conductor Francesco Molinari-Pradelli’s leaden pulse and dull rhythms makes this performance much less than its cast promises. Buy the set for the dynamic, urgent Lohengrin, but be careful with the volume.
Chris Mullins
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Lohengrin_Gala.png image_description=Richard Wagner: Lohengrin product=yes product_title=Richard Wagner: Lohengrin product_by=Keikki Siukola; Evelyn Brunner; Ekkehard Wlaschihia; Nadine Denize; Byung Woon Kang; Pierre Le Hemonet; Lucien Mertz; Jens Kiertzner; François Richert; Merih Kazbek; Choeur de l’Opera du Rhin; Orchestre Symphonique du Rhin-Mulhouse; Theodor Guschlbauer (cond.)Live recording: Mulhouse, October 26, 1985 product_id=Gala 623 [3CDs] price=$16.99 product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/Drilldown?name_id1=12732&name_role1=1&comp_id=3418&genre=33&bcorder=195&label_id=262
"Giulio Cesare," Crocodile-style
By Carlo Vitali [MusicalAmerica.com, 10 April 2007]
GENOA – The late Herbert Wernicke’s controversial yet witty Handel-ian send-up of “Giulio Cesare” is best described as a kind of neo-Baroque pasticcio, featuring arias from such other of the composer’s operas as “Rinaldo”, “Orlando” or “Tolomeo,” and re-arranged numbers occasionally re-distributed among the characters. Judging by the reception the revival of this 1998 production received April 1 at Teatro Carlo Felice, the piece has achieved cult status, even in the eyes of the Italian public, which is generally wary of such German-style regie-theater.
April 9, 2007
SAINT-SAËNS: Samson et Dalila
Music composed by Camille Saint-Saëns (1835-1921). Libretto by Ferdinand Lemaire.
First Performance: 2 December 1877, Grossherzogliches Theater, Weimar.
| Principal Characters: | |
| Samson | Tenor |
| Abimélech (Abimelech), satrap of Gaza | Bass |
| The High Priest of Dagon | Baritone |
| First Philistine | Tenor |
| Second Philistine | Bass |
| A Philistine Messenger | Tenor |
| Dalila (Delilah) | Mezzo-Soprano |
| An Old Hebrew | Bass |
Setting: Ancient Gaza.
Synopsis:
Act I:
Palestine, 1150 B.C. In a square in Gaza, a group of Hebrews beg Jehovah for relief from their bondage to the Philistines; Samson, their leader, rebukes them for their lack of faith. When the Philistine commander, Abimélech, denounces the Hebrews and their God, Samson kills him and leads the Hebrews away. The High Priest of Dagon comes from the Philistine temple and curses Samson's prodigious strength, leaving with the slain man's bier. An Old Hebrew praises the returning Samson. The outer walls of the temple disappear to reveal Samson's former lover, the Philistine woman Dalila, who invites him to come that night to her nearby dwelling. She and her maidens dance seductively for Samson, who becomes deaf to the Old Hebrew's dour prophecies.
Act II:
In the vale of Sorek, Dalila calls on her gods to help her ensnare and disarm Samson, promising the High Priest to find a way to render the hero powerless. Samson appears, passionate in spite of himself; when Dalila has him in her power, she feigns disbelief in his constancy and demands that he show his love by confiding in her the secret of his strength, weeping when he refuses. Samson hears rolling thunder as a warning from God but cannot resist following Dalila inside. Not long afterward, having finally learned that the secret of Samson's strength is his long hair, she calls to hidden Philistine soldiers, who rush in to capture and blind Samson.
Act III:
In a dungeon at Gaza, the sightless Samson pushes a grist mill in a circle, praying for his people, who will suffer for his sin. He hears their voices castigating him.
During a bacchanal in the Temple of Dagon, Dalila and the High Priest taunt Samson. When they force him to kneel to Dagon, he asks a boy to lead him to the two main pillars of the temple. Samson prays to Jehovah to restore his strength, and with a mighty effort he pulls down the pillars and the temple, crushing himself and his foes.
Click here for the complete libretto (original French).
image=http://www.operatoday.com/samson_delilah.png image_description=Samson et Dalila by Petrus Paulus Rubens (1609-10) audio=yes first_audio_name=Camille Saint-Saëns: Samson et DalilaWindows Media Player first_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Samson1.wax second_audio_name=Camille Saint-Saëns: Samson et Dalila
WinAMP or VLC second_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Samson1.m3u product=yes product_title=Camille Saint-Saëns: Samson et Dalila product_by=Ramon Vinay (Samson), Ebe Stignani (Dalila), Antonio Manca-Serra (High Priest of Dagon), Giovanni Amodeo (Abimélech), Iginio Riccó (Old Hebrew), Piero de Palma (Philistine Messenger), Nino Valentini (First Philistine), Aldo Terrosi (Second Philistine), Coro e Orchestra del Teatro di San Carlo, Fritz Rieger (cond.)
Live performance, 26 February 1955, Naples (Sung in Italian)
'Giulio Cesare' at The Met — Two Views
Sex and Politics, à la Caesar and Cleopatra
By ANTHONY TOMMASINI [NY Times, 9 April 2007]
The Metropolitan Opera has a big impediment to producing Handel operas: its enormous auditorium. Both “Rodelinda,” which the Met first mounted in 2004 starring Renée Fleming, and “Giulio Cesare,” which opened on Friday in a revival of a staging by John Copley introduced in 1988, were originally presented by Handel in the King’s Theater in London, which seated just 850. In principle the Met’s 3,700-seat house is way too big for early-18th-century opera. Some of the most ravishing moments in “Giulio Cesare” are pensively lyrical arias accompanied by only a small complement of continuo instruments.
Click here for the remainder of article.
Giulio Cesare, Metropolitan Opera, New York
By Martin Bernheimer [Financial Times, 9 April 2007]
There wasn’t much drama onstage when the Metropolitan had its oh-so-tasteful way with Handel’s Giulio Cesare on Friday. There was plenty of drama backstage.
Click here for remainder of article.
image=http://www.operatoday.com/content/caesar_bust.jpg
image_description=Giulio Cesare
A Grand Work On a Miniature Scale
BY FRED KIRSHNIT [NY Sun, 9 April 2007]
Selecting the greatest of all works for the operatic stage may be a fool's errand, but choosing the most delightful is relatively easy. That laurel wreath must go to the Grand Pooh–Bah of all comedies, Gilbert and Sullivan's "The Mikado," a show that was a smash at its premiere in 1885 and has been an audience favorite in both professional and amateur productions ever since. On Saturday, the Amato Opera preserved that winning tradition.
April 8, 2007
'I like to go on new adventures'
By Anne Marie Welsh [San Diego Union-Tribune, 8 April 2007]
Twenty-five years ago this summer, an intrepid group of San Diegans intent upon resuscitating the comatose La Jolla Playhouse flew en masse to New York. They watched a Public Theater production that included a mustard gas attack set to a waltz, an Englishman plummeting to his death while singing, and the Red Baron's biplane, gliding across the stage.
Bostridge/Adès, St Luke’s Church, London
By Richard Fairman [Financial Times, 8 April 2007]
In the atmospheric setting of an evening performance at St Luke’s Church it is easy to imagine ghosts from the past. There was one in particular whose shadowy face kept seeming to materialise in the gloom outside the lofty east window on Tuesday, though he was doubtless a beneficent spirit.
Colin Graham dies at 75
By Sarah Bryan Miller [St. Louis Post-Dispatch, 7 April 2007]
Stage director, librettist and Opera Theatre of St. Louis artistic director Colin Graham, 75, died Friday (April 6, 2007) of heart failure. He had more than 400 opera, theater and TV productions to his credit, including 48 works staged for Opera Theatre. He was awarded the Order of the British Empire at Buckingham Palace in 2001 for service to British and American opera.
April 7, 2007
A bride for sale at the Baltimore Lyric
The occasion not only ensured a packed house at the premiere, but also drew attention of the local chapter of the Czech-Slovak Heritage Association. Its members, in national costumes, attended en masse, making for a colorful and slightly surreal theater lobby.
Among the production’s international cast, Dana Buresova’s Marenka appropriately enough turned out to be the true star of Smetana’s charming little village. The Czech soprano laughed, pouted, and schemed her way triumphantly through the evening, and fully deserved her standing ovation at the end of it. The singer’s voice was strong, pure, and even in all registers; it carried easily, and she even thrilled the audience with a couple of impressive – albeit not entirely necessary in Smetana’s score – high Cs. The only thing of which I could not quite approve in this Marenka was her taste in men, for between the two sons of the honorable Tobias Micha (portrayed honorably by Ukrainian-Canadian bass Alexander Savtchenko) I might have chosen the younger one. American tenor Doug Jones offered an engaging and endearing portrait of the stammering village fool Vasek, and in the process revealed not only a lovely lyric tenor voice, but a genuine comic gift. Meanwhile, contrary to my own expectations, I was not that impressed with the heavily advertised talents of the Czech tenor Valentin Prolat as Jenek. Prolat wowed the audience sufficiently in a couple of powerful scenes in which his strong high register was impressively on display; he acted well, and blended very sweetly with Marenka in the duets, but far too often his sound felt somehow “switched off,” making it difficult to be completely satisfied with his performance.
Despite at times sounding a little thin (particularly in the string section), the orchestra was excellent, conducted impeccably by yet another Czech import, Oliver von Dohnányi. Throughout the performance he kept good balance, asserting his presence but letting the singers dominate as they should in a score such as this one. The tour-de-force of an overture (those unfamiliar with the music should imagine the fugue from Zauberflöte mixed with Mendelssohn’s elves at three times the speed) was particularly impressive – vigorous and energetic, yet clean and rhythmically precise.
Rheinhard Heinrich’s décor took a fold-out children’s book as inspiration, creating a set of white-and-brown cardboard dollhouses (with removable front walls allowing one to see their interiors) that were “folded” in and out throughout the performance in full view of the audience. Unfortunately, this clever and efficient design proved much too bulky for the small stage of the Baltimore Lyric, which made for an uncomfortably crowded marketplace with close to forty choristers on stage trying (not always convincingly) to approximate a polka. The Act 2 furiant turned out much better, as the space dilemma was resolved by sidelining the chorus and leaving what was left of center stage to three pairs of professional dancers.
The stage director, James McNamara evidently found The Bartered Bride, a slow-moving number opera, to be a challenge, and his approach was somewhat a stylistic mixture. Most scenes were staged realistically and packed full with stage business, perhaps too aggressively at times (e.g., while distraught Marenka was pouring out her heart into an opening “Where are you from?” aria, oblivious groom-to-be Jenek busied himself with first breaking and then fixing a wooden stool he had first conveniently dragged out of a nearby house). Meanwhile, several key numbers for the principals were presented as cinematic close-ups, with lights dimmed, soloists spotlighted (Jenek’s Act 2 aria was even performed in front of the lowered curtain), and “stage realism” suspended in favor of slightly old-fashioned symbolism, Hollywood-style. Not that the staging solution for each specific scene was necessarily unsuccessful (although I do take exception to the Act 3 sextet – a comic family disagreement made to project supernatural terror), but at times I found myself wishing that the director would just make up his mind.
To the audience, however, one of the most memorable moments in the whole production was undoubtedly the circus scene. Taking cue from the geographical provenance of the Indian and the fake grizzly bear, McNamara decided to turn the entire troupe, introduced by the (deliberately?) out-of-tune trumpet fanfares, into a Wild Wild West show. The Circus Master, sporting a Texas accent and a cowboy hat, resurrected for this occasion the spoken dialog tradition from the first version of Smetana’s score, although I doubt that the text of his opening announcement would have been recognized by the composer. Among other things, everyone in this original-language production were suddenly speaking English, including the chorus that reacted with evident comprehension to the Circus Master’s advertisement, and Vasek who during his comic attempts to woo the dancer Esmeralda somehow managed to lose his Czech if not his stammer. The public was treated to a parade of jugglers, acrobats, clowns on stilts, a grunting Indian, a bearded lady weightlifter, and a badly trained but brightly costumed dog (yes, a real one) that jumped through one large hula hoop, missed the other, but would have its chance at a curtain call nonetheless...
After a fashion, the misadventures of the circus mirrored the fortunes of the larger show of which it was a part. The bride was sold with some panache, a few unfortunate accidents, and some questionable decisions that warranted raised eyebrows from the purists such as myself. Yet, at the end of it all, Baltimore Lyric did manage to put on a good show – and fundamentally, a good show is what opera production is all about.
Olga Haldey
image=http://www.operatoday.com/bride_art.jpg image_description=Bartered Bride at Baltimore Lyric OperaRuth Ann’s Rampage: Nobody Wins
Perhaps Swenson has played too many mad-scene heroines on the great stage at Lincoln Center and has gone a touch daft herself? After twenty Lucia di Lammermoors and a few Puritani Elviras, Swenson knows how to pull off a scena. But her angry denunciation of the Met, and especially General Manager Gelb, in the Times may well come back to haunt her as well as the newspaper editors who made the, in my opinion, unfortunate and unprofessional decision to print such clearly un-fit ‘news.’ The lady feels ‘snubbed’ and some of her trophy roles are being given to arch-rivals. Head for the hills!
Swenson, a native New Yorker, made a successful Met debut in 1991 as Don Giovanni’s Zerlina, and has sung leading roles at least 225 times for the company, according to the Met’s archives, including not only the many Lucias, but 49 Gildas (perhaps a house record) in Rigoletto, 25 Rosinas in The Barber of Seville and dozens of La bohemes, Elisir d’Amores and so on. Alas for Swenson, this all came to a screeching halt last autumn when she was sadly diagnosed with breast cancer. Surgery followed, and as recently as six weeks ago, according to the Times, she was completing chemotherapy. Her famous long mane of red-gold hair is gone, “I have peach fuzz,” she says – no problem on stage as the Met’s wig department is renowned.
The problems derive from the fact Gelb has reduced Swenson’s upcoming performances of Violetta (La traviata) in season ‘08 from nine to five and given four of them to Renée Fleming. Ouch! Is there any poisonous snake or spider more lethal than a diva threatened by another? Swenson’s angry tone, claiming weight discrimination, perhaps age discrimination, and just plain “he does not like me” on the part of Gelb rings a little hollow.
Swenson came back from her cancer treatments only a few weeks ago to sing (presentably) Marguerite in Gounod’s Faust, including the broadcast, and as I write is singing Cleopatra in Handel’s Giulio Cesare, which will be featured on the Met broadcast of April 21, and will air several times on the Met’s satellite connection via Sirius Radio. . .; hardly a lack of exposure for any singer. In addition, Gelb is quoted by the Times as commenting during the Cesare rehearsals that Swenson “is singing beautifully... she not only survived this marathon opera but flourished in it... That’s the uniform consensus of the artistic staff and her colleagues.” Gelb tried to water down the complaints but may have added fuel to the fire by mentioning, “Any time we can get Renée Fleming to sing at the Metropolitan Opera is a good day...for the opera..”
Critics have been divided on Swenson’s Violetta finding she sings the demanding coloratura showpieces of Act I well enough but in the later acts of the dramatic Verdi chestnut can lack in theatrical effect. Fleming, on the other hand, is generally praised for performing the entire role splendidly.
So what was behind all this display of hubris and, perhaps, sour grapes? No one really knows, but this observer can make some guesses: chemo is miserable treatment; not only does your hair fall out, but you lose energy and often feel ill and terrible. So, do you go on one of the world’s biggest stages and sing a major role six weeks after completing such a course of medication? And do you talk to the New York Times? Unwise, to say the least. In the Times article Swenson claims to have little knowledge of public relations or press technique (“I am not a PR animal”), so she probably did not expect how chilly are the waters into which she has strayed. Was she ill-advised? Quite possibly. Finally, one has to wonder if Swenson was aware that Peter Gelb is the son of Arthur Gelb, for many years top editor of the Times and one of their revered elder statesmen – the Met manager has ‘a friend at the Times,’ to say the least. Anyone who seeks to air grievances against the mighty Met had better find a different venue from The Paper of Record, just for starters.
How much better it would have been if Swenson, herself, had announced she was cutting back on Violetta and thanked her friend Renée for taking on four performances to help share the burden! How much better it would have been for Swenson to pay tribute to the great opera company and express her appreciation for all the opportunities it has given her! She might even have said she hopes to return to the Met frequently in fresh health and voice to sing many more times over future years Instead, she said “I totally comprehend” where Elizabeth Edwards ‘is’ in terms of cancer treatments and the Edwards’ decision to include Elizabeth in John’s presidential campaign. “You can’t crawl under the covers,” said Swenson. True. But you don’t set the covers on fire before you depart.
I cannot imagine walking into the Met to sing the prima of the Handel opera (April 6) with all the Times’ poison drifting around the place, inflammability that Swenson herself uncorked. I do lament the “new journalism” of that newspaper and other media that will take a scandalous story just about anywhere they can find one, with little respect for damage done to the participants. Yep, Ruth Ann should have kept her yap shut, but the Times should never have poured the hot lead. Nobody wins.
© 2007 J. A. Van Sant
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Swenson_1996.png image_description=Ruth Ann Swenson (1996)BERNSTEIN: Fancy Free; Dybbuk
The 1944 score, Fancy Free, has retained a place as one of Bernstein’s most popular scores, probably because it is from the composer in his popular vein, brash and melodic. Dybbuk, from 1974, depicts a “battle between good and evil...represented by the conflict between tonality and atonality” (quoted from the blurb on the CD case back). In Bernstein’s work, and world, tonality dominates, with acerbic harmonies providing more of a heightening contrast than a dark threat.
Naxos places Dybbuk first, and the dramatic reading by the Nashville Symphony, led by Andrew Mogrelia, establishes a firm grip on the work’s propulsive, clashing rhythms right from the start and maintains it through to the end some 45 minutes later. Interspersed in the ballet’s story line, based on the classic Hebrew tale of possession and exorcism, are sung passages of excerpts from key Hebrew texts. Baritone Mel Ulrich and bass Stephen Kummer are both strong, their dark tones well-suited to the score’s drama. In his later years the easy melodicism that Bernstein had once enjoyed seemed to elude him, but in material such as Dybbuk, snappy tunes would have been out of place anyway. This score repays attention.
Fancy Free gets attention to this day, and understandably so, as the performance here displays Bernstein’s rare ability to infuse jazz textures into a more sophisticated score without the clumsiness or even condescension heard in other attempts by “serious” composers. Beginning with a first-class song, “Big Stuff,” the dance score that ensues makes for a suite of a little less than 30 minutes, never flagging in its energy and inventiveness. Abby Burke’s vocal in the song has an affecting simplicity, but anyone who has ever heard Billie Holiday’s version will not have that memory displaced. With sharp sound quality and a first-class booklet essay from Richard Whitehouse, this Naxos release does well by both scores. Of course a search should produce the composer’s own recordings of both scores, but at Naxos prices, this thoughtfully assembled recording should be given consideration.Chris Mullins
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April 6, 2007
Kurt Weill on Broadway: Songs and Orchestrations by Kurt Weill
This is apparent in the songs that are already familiar to audiences around the world, and it is also borne out in the less familiar pieces collected in this recording. Beyond familiar songs that have been performed by various singers for over half a century, the duets and other ensembles that he wrote for the American stage are equally accessible. Originally recorded in 1994, this CD entitled Kurt Weill on Broadway is a compilation of some strong pieces by Weill that are have not achieved the popularity associated with some of his other music.
This recording includes a selection of pieces from One Touch of Venus, Knickerbocker Holiday, The Firebrand of Florence (prior to the complete recording that was subsequently made), Love Life and Johnny Johnson. In choosing music for this recording, the fine Weill interpreter John McGlinn avoided some of the obvious pieces like the “September Song” to call attention instead to other fine songs from Knickerbocker Holiday, “It Was Never You” and “How Can You Tell an American?” Despite its title, “It Was Never You” is one particular back-handed lovesongs that merits attention for the careful blending of lyrics and music that transcend the play for which it was intended. Sung by Thomas Hampson and Elizabeth Futral in the roles of Brom and Tina, this is song that some have attempted as a solo piece, which does not work as well as in the intended in the musical. The second selection from Knickerbocker Holiday is kind of character piece, “How Can You Tell an American?” here performed articulately by Hampson and Jerry Hadley without tipping their hands on the affinities that this song has with the pre-World War II sentiment and the patrimony of the piece with the kind of list-songs archetypically part of Gilbert and Sullivan’s idiom.
Yet it is in the extensive selection from The Firebrand of Florence that this recording makes its mark. A work that as known in its day, it was eclipsed by other pieces for the Broadway stage that followed it. Yet the music selected here suggests that The Firebrand of Florence deserves further attention. Closer, perhaps, to the more formally rich tradition of operetta than the Broadway musical of Weill’s day, this work is a comic adaptation of the same story that Berlioz fashioned into his opera Benvenuto Cellini. Bowing to the conventions of the Broadway stage rather than the operatic tradition, Weill creates some vivid pieces that bring the sensational biography of the famous artist to life. The ensembles and ensuing counterpoint anticipates in some ways the style that Bernstein would use in his own quintessential operetta Candide. While the score of Weill’s work has its demands, the rewards are worthwhile, with vocal textures and soaring melodies that transcend some of the works of his contemporaries. While the music remains strong, so too do the lyrics echo strongly in various pieces that convey the story of Cellini and the character of Florence, the setting for the work. The sometimes forced rhymes that contribute to the humor of the score are performed squarely, as they should be, and the result is convincing. Like some recent recordings of works like Kiss Me Kate, the use of trained singers for this work help to bring out the merits of Weill's score.
As to the other excerpts, like the evocative “Westwind” with which the collection opens, the performance of a singer of the caliber of Thomas Hampson conveys the nuances of a solo number that is atypical of Broadway convention, yet imbued with the lyricism and substance that allows Weill's music to endure. The sustained lines and the choral interjections effectively capture the sense of yearning implicit in the text of this piece from One Touch of Venus. As familiar as this number be to some audiences, Hampson's interpretation stands well with others who have recorded this song.
In addition, Elizabeth Futral’s performances are equally solid and engaging. Her duet with Hampson in “It Never Was You” is representative of her efforts, and the various excerpts from The Firebrand of Florence in which she sings the role of Angela are noteworthy for the tone she achieves. Never arch or self-consciously operatic, Futral brings a clear and ringing tone that carries the English-language text well, and this particularly evident in the excerpts from Love Life. Moreover, Hampson’s continuing efforts in promoting American song will find a complement in these pieces Weill contributed to the American theater that reflect both the native genre and also the composer’s own genius in grafting his style to it.
Beyond the presentation of some of the less familiar theater songs of Weill, the subtitle of the recording calls attention to an important aspect of the composer’s craft. Unlike other Broadway composers of his time, Weill pursued his own orchestrations, rather than consign the scoring to individuals who assisted composers of musicals in scoring their music for the pit orchestra. Weill’s hand in the orchestrations lends an authenticity to the music that puts an emphasis on the tone colors used. Thus, the ephemeral sounds of “Westwind” suggest some tone painting in that piece, just as the sometimes homespun sonorities of “Who Is Samuel Cooper?” from Love Life hint at the element of Americana essential to the setting of that musical. Weill's sense of the appropriate orchestral effect emerges clearly in these performances, that benefit from the masterful hand of McGlinn leading the London Sinfonietta.
McGlinn’s notes to the recording call attention to the American Kurt Weill, a distinction that can be, at times, artificial, but certainly confirms the composer’s ability to have assimilated the culture of the United States. While some other composers who fled to the United States may have failed to merge their styles with those of their adopted land, Weill's efforts demonstrate his own success in adapting his efforts to the very American form of musical theater. Those who have not yet encountered this recording will find that it has much to offer in the fine selection from Weill’s works for the American stage.
James Zychowicz
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Chorus, London Sinfonieta, John McGlinn, conductor.
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Perfume: The Story of a Murderer
At least in a film score, one can still hear snatches of melody, even if lacking in further development. However, just as the world of “serious music” isn’t producing composers like Dimitri Shostakovich or Samuel Barber these days, the world of film music lacks an Elmer Bernstein, a John Barry. There are good composers out there, in both worlds - but that final touch of inspiration and originality has gone missing.
Which brings us to the soundtrack for the film version of Patrick Süskind’s novel Perfume, which relates the creepy story of a man born with no body odor. He becomes fascinated with scents, and his career as a creator of perfume soon develops into a serial killer’s obsessed pursuit of the perfect aroma. One will have to employ some detective skills, probably employing a magnifying glass, to identify the composer of the film’s score on the front, or even back, cover of the CD. In fact, the credit goes to composers, for the film’s director, Tom Tykwer, also took on the role of scorer, with the “collaboration of his two musical associates, Johnny Klimek and Reinhold Heil,” as the booklet essay declares. Other than the film’s title, the primary cover credit goes to the Berlin Philharmonic, under the leadership of Simon Rattle.
What we have here, then, is a world-class orchestra performing relatively simple music, both in harmony and rhythm. Often short phrases are repeated over slowly altering chords. A wordless chorus haunts many of the tracks, with two adult female sopranos (Chen Reiss and Melanie Mitrano) and one boy soprano (Victor De Maiziere) contributing their own wordless spookiness. For over seventy minutes and 18 tracks, a mood of subtly threatening lusciousness prevails, with no fast music to speak of. Think of it as Bernard Hermann meets Vangelis.
To have Rattle and the Berlin Phil perform this music brings to a mind a gorgeous Maserati purring at 25 miles per hour, gliding interminably through residential streets, encumbered with stop signs every couple of blocks. Gorgeous to look at, in other words, but a waste of effort, not to mention gasoline.
With DVDs so easily available and affordable, exactly why anyone would want an audio-only version of this type of film score confuses your reviewer. But for anyone who would like some insistently eerie yet sensuous background music for an evening of, well, romance, perhaps this is just the disc. Hit “repeat.”
Chris Mullins
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April 5, 2007
Mainstay Soprano Feels Snubbed by the Met
By DANIEL J. WAKIN [NY Times, 5 April 2007]
Ruth Ann Swenson, a mainstay soprano at the Metropolitan Opera, will take the stage tomorrow to begin a run of Handel’s “Giulio Cesare” just six weeks after finishing chemotherapy for breast cancer.
Anna & Rolando Celebrate the Met, Metropolitan Opera, New York
By Martin Bernheimer [Financial Times, 4 April 2007]
It wasn’t just another night at the opera. The mighty Met was commemorating the 40th anniversary of its move from grubby 39th Street to glamorous Lincoln Center. The agenda, fully staged, involved Act I of La bohème, the St Sulpice scene from Manon and Act II of L’elisir d’amore. The top ticket cost $5,000 – repeat, $5,000 – for a seat plus post- performance dinner. The glitterati came out in noisy force, and some of them seemed interested in the music.
'Too fat' opera star makes slight return
Charlotte Higgins [Guardian, 4 April 2007]
Deborah Voigt, the soprano who said she was sacked from the Royal Opera for being too fat, is back at Covent Garden this autumn - 68kg lighter.
Uproar in Vienna Over Opera-House Post
By GEORGE JAHN [AP, 4 April 2007]
VIENNA, Austria -- In this city famed for its love of music, Chancellor Alfred Gusenbauer's glaring involvement in who will run Vienna's flagship opera house has made him a target for criticism that he is spending too much time on affairs of the stage instead of the state.
April 4, 2007
The Metropolitan Opera on DVD: Elektra, Luisa Miller and Tosca
Those years have long since past, though Peter Gelb has managed to revive much interest with the innovation of the relays to movie theaters. Each of the three DVDs of concern here feels like “event” television: a rare Verdi opera featuring three of the Met’s biggest stars of the time (Scotto, Domingo, and Milnes in Luisa Miller); a new Zefferelli Tosca; and Birgit Nilsson’s return, in a full staging of Elektra, after years of absence from Lincoln Center.
Ranging from January 1979 for the Verdi to March 1985 for the Puccini, all three DVDs show the Met at its traditional best, with elaborate sets often greeted by audience applause, charismatic stars, and the highly professional support of the Met orchestra (under James Levine for the Verdi and Strauss, with Giuseppe Sinopoli leading Tosca). The DVDs boast bonus features that actually supplement the viewing experience. The Verdi and Puccini have photo galleries that present fascinating information on each opera’s performance history, as well as interview segments apparently seen at intermission time during the broadcasts. No great insights are produced in these talks, but there’s always a fascination in seeing the performers in street clothes, so very different from the characters they have just been seen as. The Tosca also features a 20-minute walking tour of Rome with Zefferelli and a note-taking assistant (yes, a comely young man). The three locales of Tosca’s action are viewed, and Zefferelli occasionally says something of real interest. Ostensibly he wanted his Scarpia to be dangerously attractive to Floria — in the event, Cornell MacNeil is not able to pull this off. But the psychology behind Zefferelli’s insight remains viable. He also offers what amounts to almost his entire artistic philosophy: “Opera is essential! Opera cannot be sophisticated.”
Ultimately the performance counts above all else. Purely as singing, the Luisa Miller has the greatest success of the three. Renata Scotto triumphs as Verdi’s Luisa, a heroine whose trajectory of happiness to misery parallels Violetta’s, though without the depth and social impact of Traviata. Domingo is Domingo, singing handsomely and furrowing his brow with maximum exertion. Sherill Milnes manages the tricky feat of keeping Miller an appealing father figure as his character becomes a pawn to the tangled plot’s manipulations. As Wurm, James Morris reveals the talent that would soon move him into larger roles.
The booklet essay focuses on Scotto; that’s understandable but preferable would be some comment on why the set, so traditional as to be almost laughable in its faux-Swiss kitsch, apparently features fake balcony boxes at the sides, populated with well-dressed supers. That touch of “regie-theater” makes no sense here. And neither does Domingo’s blond wig.
The Elektra disc serves as a tribute to Birgit Nilsson at the Met. The bonus features include her touching paean to Levine at his 25th anniversary gala, and her contributions to the centennial gala. Most fascinating is almost 20 minutes of backstage footage during the curtain calls for the Elektra. Cutting back and forth between the ecstatic reception out front and the genial camaraderie in the cramped area between curtain and set, this footage makes fascinating viewing, even if just to hear Birgit announce “I need a drink.”
While praising the performance, booklet essay writer J. F. Mastroianni acknowledges it “may not be flawless,” noting the “occasional pitch concern.” For your reviewer, Elektra’s opening monologue is pretty much a lost cause, and though Nilsson gradually finds a way to stabilize her vocal production, it is sheer charismatic energy that pulls her through. For acting she doesn’t do much more than raise her fists to heaven, but the fierceness of her spirit still comes through. And when Nilsson tussles with Leonie Rysanek’s Chrysothemis, the hallowed images of Bette Davis and Joan Crawford come to mind. In securer voice than those two leads, Mignon Dunn’s Klytämenstra and Donald McIntyre’s Orest still find themselves in the shadow of Nilsson and Rysanek’s dramatic conviction.
For the Met, Herbert Graf’s production (with sets and costumes by Rudolf Heinrich) appears almost modern, with its abstract, timeless space and minimal use of props. Levine’s reading of the score maintains a firm grasp of its rigor while embracing the very few moments of lyricism. As described above, Zefferelli’s Tosca, new for this 1985 filming, favors huge spaces, elaborately detailed, as well as the frequent use of extras, most of whom have some distracting bit of business. The best example here comes in act three, when two handsome hunks cross the stage, one with shirt wide-open to expose a gym-generated chest. They are carrying cleaning equipment, as if they are janitorial staff, and one lays down to enjoy the shepherd’s song, after which they both saunter off-stage. The auditions for these two roles must have been extensive and exhausting.
Tosca gets performed so often, at least in the USA, because the tight construction and supremely dramatic score almost guarantee a satisfied audience, even if the singing doesn’t compete with the best performances. Such is the case here. The great Cornell MacNeil is caught late, and though he knows the role and provides a worthy reading, the voice is rough-edged where Scarpia’s calls for oily smoothness. As contrast, Domingo is in fine voice and uses his manly persona well enough. What essential difference there is between his Cavaradossi and his Rodolfo mentioned above eludes your reviewer.
Hildegard Behrens was enjoying the prime of her career, and few dramatic sopranos will pass up a chance at Floria Tosca. As acting, Behrens does probably as good a job as anyone. The voice is simply not rich enough to provide the lyricism that Tosca relishes as much as she does hysteria. Only in Tosca’s final tragic declaration, “Avanti a dio!” does Behrens find a line that requires the edgy power she brought to Wagner. But she barks out some truly scary cries of “mori!” as Scarpia kicks the bucket.
While Italo Tajo’s Sacristan is hammy, Anthony Laciura gives a classically unctuous Spoletta. Sinopoli rushes at times but his energy brings a needed sense of risk to the evening.
As time passes a gentle coat of dust seems to be falling over much of the Metropolitan’s filmed heritage, but then again, what seems so fresh and exciting in today’s productions will have to face the test of time as well. For those eager to a trip back to Reagan-era opera, Met style, any or all of these three DVDs are just the thing.
Chris Mullins
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Tosca.png image_description=Tosca product=yes product_title=Giacomo Puccini: Tosca product_by=Hildegard Behrens, Plácido Domingo, Cornell MacNeil, James Courtney, Italo Tajo, Anthony Laciura, Russell Christopher, The Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and Chorus, Giuseppe Sinopoli (cond.). Stage Production and Set Design: Franco Zeffirelli. product_id=Deutsche Grammophon 073 4100 [DVD] price=$27.98 product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/Drilldown?name_id1=9762&name_role1=1&comp_id=2345&genre=33&label_id=5813&bcorder=1956&name_id=56354&name_role=3April 3, 2007
Quick Sex, Greed, Bryn Terfel Feature at London's Royal Opera
By Warwick Thompson [Bloomberg.com, 3 April 2007]
April 3 (Bloomberg) -- Comedy is a serious business, comedians are fond of telling us. Having been disturbed and tickled in equal measure by the Royal Opera's superb double bill, Ravel's ``L'Heure Espagnole'' and Puccini's ``Gianni Schicchi,'' I'm inclined to agree.
Straddling Puccini’s China, From Smaller Roles to Large Spectacle
By ANNE MIDGETTE [NY Times, 3 April 2007]
First-time operagoers and long-term fans are drawn to different aspects of opera. First-timers may be pulled in by the excitement of the event: the big music, the spectacle. And in these respects, the Metropolitan Opera’s “Turandot,” which returned on Friday night, certainly passes muster. Franco Zeffirelli’s production delivers a lot of bang (scenery, costumes, number of bodies on stage) for the buck, and in the hands of the ever-impressive conductor Fabio Luisi, the orchestra and the chorus sounded great. And Puccini’s music is pretty hot.
VERDI: Falstaff
Music composed by Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901). Libretto by Arrigo Boito after The Merry Wives of Windsor and King Henry IV by William Shakespeare.
First Performance: 9 February 1893, Teatro alla Scala, Milan.
| Principal Characters: | |
| Sir John Falstaff | Baritone |
| Ford, husband of Alice | Baritone |
| Fenton | Tenor |
| Dr.Caius | Tenor |
| Bardolfo and Pistola, followers of Falstaff | Tenors |
| Mrs. Alice Ford | Soprano |
| Nannetta, daughter of Alice | Soprano |
| Mrs. Quickly | Mezzo-Soprano |
| Mrs. Meg Page | Mezzo-Soprano |
Setting: Windsor, during the reign of Henry IV of England
Synopsis
Act I.
A room at the Garter Inn. Falstaff is surrounded by his servants Bardolfo, Pistola and the innkeeper, when Dr. Caius arrives and accuses him of robbery, but the excited doctor is soon ejected. Falstaff hands letters to his servants for delivery to Mistress Ford and to Mistress Page. The letters, which purport of Falstaff’s love for the respectable women, are intended to seduce them (although he is really seducing them for the money). Bardolfo and Pistola refuse, however, claiming that ‘honor’ prevents them from obeying his orders. Sending the letters by a page instead, Falstaff confronts his servants (’Che dunque l’onore? Una parola!’ — ‘What, then, is honor? A word!‘) and chases them out of his sight.
Change of scene: Ford’s garden. Alice and Meg have received Falstaff’s letters, both of identical contents. They exchange them, and in conjunction with Mistress Quickly, resolve to punish the knight. The three are also none too pleased with Master Ford, who is intending to give his daughter Nannetta in marriage to Dr. Caius. This, they resolve, will not happen. Meanwhile, Ford has been apprised of the letters by Bardolfo and Pistola. All three are athirst for vengeance. A brief love duet between Fenton and Nannetta follows; the women return home and, through Mistress Quickly, a maid, invite Falstaff to an assignation. The men also arrive upon the scene, and Bardolfo and Pistola are persuaded to introduce Ford to Falstaff under an assumed name.
Act II.
Same room as in the first scene of Act I. Bardolfo and Pistola (now in the pay of Ford), pretending to beg for forgiveness for past transgressions, announce to their master the arrival of Mistress Quickly, who delivers the invitation. Ford is now introduced as Signor Fontana, who offers money to the fat knight to intercede for him with Mistress Ford. Falstaff agrees with pleasure, and while he attires himself in splendid array in his chamber, Ford is consumed with jealousy (’È sogno o realtà?’ — ‘Is it a dream or reality?‘).
Change of scene: A room in Ford’s house. As Mistress Quickly announces the coming of Falstaff, Mistress Ford has a large clothes basket placed in readiness. Falstaff’s attempts to seduce the lady are cut short as Mistress Quickly reports the arrival of Mistress Page, and the knight is compelled to conceal himself behind a screen. When the angry Ford with his friends appear to capture Falstaff, the latter hides in the basket. In the meantime, a love scene between Fenton and Nannetta takes place behind the screen, and the men returning, hear the sound of a kiss; they think to entrap Falstaff, but find Fenton, who is ordered by Ford to leave. When the men again proceed with the search, the women order the wash basket to be thrown into the ditch, where Falstaff is compelled to endure the jeers of the crowd.
Act III.
Before the inn. Falstaff, in a gloomy mood, curses the sorry state of the world. Some mulled wine, however, soon improves his mood. The fat knight again receives an invitation through Dame Quickly, which is overheard by the men. After Falstaff, dubious at first, has promised to go to Herne’s Oak dressed as the Black Huntsman, the place of meeting, he enters the house with Dame Quickly, and the men concoct a plan for his punishment. Dr. Caius is promised the hand of Nannetta, and is told of her disguise. The plot is overheard by Dame Quickly.
Change of scene: At Herne’s Oak in Windsor Park. A moonlit midnight. The women disguise Fenton as a monk, and arrange that he shall spoil the plans of Dr. Caius. Falstaff’s love scene with Mistress Ford is interrupted by the announcement that witches are approaching, and the men disguised as elves and fairies thrash Falstaff soundly. When their vengeance is satisfied, Dr. Caius finds that he has captured Bardolfo instead of Nannetta in the garb of a fairy queen, but Fenton and Nannetta, with the consent of Ford, are joined in wedlock. Falstaff, pleased to find himself not the only dupe, proclaims in a fugue that the whole world is a joke (Tutto nel mondo è burla).
Click here for the complete libretto.
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Falstaff.png image_description=Falstaff by Eduard Theodor Ritter von Grützner (1925) audio=yes first_audio_name=Giuseppe Verdi: Falstaff first_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Falstaff1.m3u product=yes product_title=Giuseppe Verdi: Falstaff product_by=Giacomo Rimini (Sir John Falstaff), Pia Tassinari (Alice), Ines Alfani Tellini (Nannetta), Aurora Buades (Quickly), Robert d'Alessio (Fenton), Rita Monticone (Meg Page), Emilio Ghirardini (Ford), Salvatore Baccaloni (Pistola), Emilio Venturini (Dr. Caius), Giuseppe Nessi (Bardolfo), Orchestra e Coro del Teatro alla Scala di Milano, Lorenzo Molajoli (cond.)Recorded April 1932
National Council Audition Winners Named!
[Metropolitan Opera, 2 April 2007]
Yesterday marked the end of a long and rewarding process for some of today’s top young opera singers as they competed in the Grand Finals Concert of the National Council Auditions. Having made it through district, regional, and semi-final rounds, eleven finalists took to the Met stage to perform two arias of their choice, accompanied by the Met Orchestra conducted by Marco Armiliato.
April 2, 2007
San Diego Opera — Il Trovatore
The company seemed to know this in advance, when they chose to highlight Paulette Marrocou's Leonora on the posters. A striking woman, she began rather low-key, but by the convent scene of act two, she had found her comfort zone in Leonora's growing desperation. While not conventionally beautiful, Marocou's soprano has an alluring edge, and her top, as heard at Sunday April's first matinee, rang out in the cavernous Civic Center acoustic with power.
The greatest ovation at final curtain, however, went to Marianne Cornetti, who sang Azucena
with the sort of wild abandon and penetration of the role's greatest contemporary exponent,
Dolora Zajick (there's is also a slight physical resemblance). Unlike Zajick, however, Cornetti's
strength lies mostly at the top, and the middle voice has less punch. Furthermore, Cornetti's
audience-pleasing contribution did not have the subtler touches of Marrocou's Leonora, but
subtlety may not always be what an audience wants from a Il Trovatore performer. In the smaller
role of Inez, Priti Gandhi had some affecting moments.
As for the men, the show started with veteran Hao Jiang Tin's Ferrando. His is a solid bass sound, but it takes more fire and drama to make this exposition-heavy first scene truly effective. Alexandra Agache equalled Cornetti in sheer lung power. If only the voice itself were more interesting. "Il Balen" started well enough but soon the monochromatic tone of Agache's baritone dimmed its success. On the other hand, he gave a good physical performance, and his confrontation with Marrocou's Leonora in act four may have been the best scene of the day.
And the title role? San Diego Opera had announced Nicola Rossi Giordani as its Manrico, and only a few weeks ago revealed that Dario Volonté would take the lead. Volonté had sung a creditable Calaf in San Diego a couple seasons back, with the concern then being that he undersang too much of the evening to give his all to the big moments. Sunday's performance, unfortunately, increased that concern. Volonté's basic sound has a warmth and sweetness that makes one want to hear more of it, but he seems unable or unwilling to fulfill that desire. Your reviewer thought he was hoarding his resources for his big act three scene, but even there, the volume did not appear. Nonetheless, a solid, though smallish, high note (reportedly a high C) capping "Di quella pira" earned the tenor a thunderous ovation. The foot stamp that accompanied the note was regrettable, however, and your reviewer would have enjoyed hearing some cries of "Madre infelice!" as well.
Edoardo Müller has led some strong performances for San Diego, especially in the Italian repertory, but Sunday's felt decidedly low-energy. Faced with a cast of varying decibel-level, perhaps this is understandable, but there were also a couple of spots of poor pit-stage coordination.
The physical production, by Benoit Dugardyn, is handsome enough (it has also been seen in Los
Angeles and Houston). Shifting walls of ragged, burnt wood quickly take us from scene to scene.
Otherwise, Stephen Lawless's direction came across as perfunctory, and the choreographed
swordfight with clanging blades where anvils should be is still a very silly sight.
So count this Trovatore as a success for Cornetti and especially Marrocou. Next in San Diego, the bold choice of Wozzeck, directed by Des McAnuff. It opens April 14th.
Chris Mullins
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Trovatore14_SDO.png image_description=Italian soprano Paoletta Marrocu (Leonora) and Argentinean tenor Darío Volonté (Manrico) in San Diego Opera’s production of Verdi’s Il trovatore. Photo © Ken Howard product=yes product_title=Il Trovatore product_by=San Diego Opera1 April 2007 product_id=ABOVE: Italian soprano Paoletta Marrocu (Leonora) and Argentinean tenor Darío Volonté (Manrico) in San Diego Opera’s production of Verdi’s Il trovatore.
All photos © Ken Howard, courtesy of San Diego Opera