By MATTHEW GUREWITSCH [NY Times, 30 March 2008]
IN late November the British accompanist Roger Vignoles visited the Juilliard School for his first New York master class. It was not the sort of public star turn often marketed under that name, but an internal, properly educational affair. Five students sang, accompanied by five student pianists preparing for careers as collaborative artists. Mr. Vignoles scrutinized singers and pianists alike with the same eagle intensity.
By ANTHONY TOMMASINI [NY Times, 30 March 2008]
“The older I become, the closer I feel to Russia,” the Siberian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky said recently over tea at a Manhattan hotel. And he seemed surprised to hear himself say it.
By JAY NORDLINGER [NY Sun, 30 March 2008]
If you heard Joyce DiDonato's New York recital last season, you're not likely to have forgotten it. It was top-of-the-line. The sparkling mezzo-soprano from Kansas gave another one on Wednesday night: in the Rose Theater, under the auspices of Great Performers at Lincoln Center. This, too, was top-of-the-line: at least for the most part.
The three volumes of Cantiones Sacrae (1575, with Thomas Tallis, 1589, and 1591) and two volumes of Gradualia (1605 and 1607), polyphonic settings of the Mass Propers of the Roman Rite, are an abundant trove and document both the Latin motet’s persistence in Anglican contexts as well as Byrd’s own persistence in musical Romanism. This present recording, the tenth in a series of Byrd’s works by Andrew Carwood and The Cardinall’s Musick, presents the polyphonic Propers for Lady Mass in Eastertide from the 1605 Gradualia and diverse motets from the 1591 Cantiones Sacrae. Certain of the texts seem particularly resonant with the plight of Roman Catholics in Elizabethan England. For example, the motet, “Tribulatio proxima est,” with its references to tribulation, insults, and terrors and a final plea that the Lord as deliverer will not delay, seems autobiographically poignant for Byrd who, close to the time of its publication, relocated away from London to become part of a recusant community in Essex. Similarly, the “Salve Regina,” both in its Marian identity and its lamentative reference to “this vale of tears,” also strikes a distinctively Roman chord. The religious history of late sixteenth-century England is one of many layers, and these Latin works, penned by a member of Elizabeth’s Chapel Royal, are enduring reminders of the era’s religious complexity.
The Cardinall’s Musick brings a compelling fluency to their performances of Byrd, born of their long-standing commitment to his music. Their sound is both exquisitely clear and vibrantly alive, fluid in its motion and satisfyingly well-controlled. (Such beautiful final chords!) That said—and enthusiastically so—much of the music is also sung with notable fullness of sound. There are, indeed, welcome lulls, such as the “pacem Deus” of “Alleluia. Ave Maria,” or the “genuisti” of “Beata es, virgo,” but in the main there is a full richness in the sound that may lose some of its expressive power when maintained at great length. And given the busyness of much of the counterpoint, a more dynamically varied approach would serve well.
One of the most memorable renditions on the recording is the Compline prayer, “Visita quaesumus, Domine,” memorable especially for the ensemble’s lighter and more contoured approach, elicited by the nocturnal context of its words and Byrd’s scoring without a low bass voice. The “Regina caeli” is also memorable both for its three-voice texture—a change of pace from the richness of its surrounding works—and also for the ensemble’s engagingly buoyant singing of the “resurrexit” figures.
Steven Plank
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Byrd_Laudibus.png
image_description=William Byrd: Laudibus in sanctis
product=yes
product_title=William Byrd: Laudibus in sanctis
product_by=The Cardinall’s Musick; Andrew Carwood, Director.
product_id=Hyperion CDA6758 [CD]
price=$21.99
product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/Drilldown?name_id1=1757&name_role1=1&comp_id=672&genre=92&bcorder=195&name_id=64447&name_role=4
By Francis Carlin [Financial Times, 27 March 2008]
Apotheosis now. Cecilia Bartoli has rolled back into Paris with her Maria Malibran campaign wagon and taken the city by storm. The Malibran souvenir van is parked outside the town hall; Bartoli herself set up shop at the Salle Pleyel, not her usual Paris venue but a sure sign that the concert hall is firing on all cylinders under Laurent Bayle’s stewardship.
By GEORGE LOOMIS [NY Sun, 26 March 2008]
Just when it looked as though, after four tries, the Metropolitan Opera’s current revival of Wagner’s “Tristan und Isolde” would proceed on Tuesday evening with the originally announced cast intact, the nemesis that has dogged the run sprouted another hydra-like head. Ben Heppner, in voice and appearance the very image of good health, belatedly joined the cast as Tristan. But Deborah Voigt, the scheduled Isolde, canceled because of illness and was replaced by Janice Baird, who at an earlier performance took over for Ms. Voigt during the course of Act 2.
By JAY NORDLINGER [NY Sun, 26 March 2008]
Salzburg, Austria — Siegmund flew in at 4 p.m. The opera started at 5. He made it to the opera house, put on his costume —and on he went.
The Salzburg Easter Festival staged “Die Walküre” on Monday night. “Die Walküre” is the second installment of Wagner’s “Ring of the Nibelung.” We had the first installment, “Das Rheingold,” last year. In 2009 and 2010, we’ll get the last two: “Siegfried” and “Götterdämmerung.”
Better melodies could secure new operas a lasting place on stage, the argument goes. Howard Hanson's 1934 opera Merry Mount, a Metropolitan Opera commission, serves as evidence that a score's tunefulness will not guarantee its survival on the stage. Naxos has re-released the Seattle Symphony's concert recording, performed under conductor Gerard Schwarz. The opera received a rousing ovation at its premiere, but the Met never revived it after the initial run. A suite derived from the opera's score, however, appears on the playlists of most classical music stations. Lush, evocative music, the suite demonstrates that Hanson did some of his best work in setting Richard L. Stokes libretto, based on a Nathaniel Hawthorne story. The synopsis takes almost 5 pages of the Naxos set's booklet essay, in tiny font, and makes for painfully protracted and confusing reading. The recording itself doesn't make matters any clearer; the frequent choral effusions are all but incomprehensible, and little sense of character or dramatic conflict comes through the brief interchanges.
The basic premise of a romance around the conflict between two groups (here the Puritans and the fur traders) serves many a great opera very well. The archaic language, flat characterization, and tedious narrative arc would hobble, one might think, any composer. Apparently Hanson believed in the project enough to let loose with streams of inspired melody. So the suite might seem the first option for interested listeners. however, the Seattle Symphony recording has much to recommend it. The musicians and singers are all committed and able, and Hanson's writing for chorus, absent from the suite, is rich and extensive. Schwarz recorded a series of discs dedicated to Hanson's music, and his knowledge of the composer's style comes through. The most well-known member of the cast, Lauren Flanigan, has a voice large enough for the dramatic moments, if not one easily able to suggest fragility. Lawrence Tibbett has the role of Wrestling Bradford in the premiere. Richard Zeller, without that level of charisma, gives an earnest and capable performance.
The opera does give to the repertory a most amusing list of characters: Plentiful Tewke, Jewel Scrooby, Peregrine Brodrib, Faint-Not Tinker. Not to neglect the First and Second Puritans.
At one time, Naxos offered on CD (outside the USA) the matinee broadcast of one of the original performances, in atrocious sound. Lovers of American opera will want this Naxos recording in superior sound, and those who know and enjoy the suite will probably find the disc worthwhile as well. Only those hoping to find a lost masterpiece deserving of resurrection on today's stages will be disappointed.
Chris Mullins
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Merry_Mount.png
image_description=Howard Hanson: Merry Mount
product=yes
product_title=Howard Hanson: Merry Mount, Op. 31
product_by=Lady Marigold Sandys (Lauren Flanigan), Sir Gower Lackland (Walter MacNeil), Wrestling Bradford (Richard Zeller), Praise-God Tewke (Charles Robert Austin), Seattle Symphony Chorale, Northwest Boychoir, Seattle Girls’ Choir, Seattle Symphony, Gerard Schwarz (cond.)
product_id=Naxos 8.669012-13 [2CDs]
price=$14.99
product_url=http://www.arkivmusic.com/classical/Drilldown?name_id1=5044&name_role1=1&bcorder=1&comp_id=247609
The booklet notes come in Dutch (followed by an abbreviated English translation), which is understandable for a set highlighting the Dutch soprano's contribution. Paul Korenhof quickly lists Brouwenstijn's few "official recordings," and then details her career, an admirably extensive one in both German and Italian repertory.
So though the name may not be familiar to any but committed opera fans, it only takes a few moments of her Forza Leonora as preserved here to recognize a very great talent. In her mid 40s at the time of the performance, Brouwenstijn sounds in her prime. The voice is secure throughout the range, the tone firm and attractive, and her interpretation dramatic without any hysterical outbursts (often an excuse for poor technique or a fragile vocal state). All of Leonora's great moments come off supremely well, with a rare beauty in the prayers and a "Pace, pace mio dio" that leans to a reflective despair rather than a pathetic outcry. She still has the requisite fire for that aria's final "maledizione," however.
Jan Peerce, as Don Alvaro, beefs up his his tone for this heavy role, and at times the volume he pours out in the duets with John Shaw's Don Carlo overwhelms the recording equipment. The sound requires the usual aural compromises of in-house recordings, but only when the tenor and baritone are trying to out-bellow each other does it actually become harsh and unsatisfactory. In the other key roles, Rena Garazioti thankfully underplays Preziosilla's sometimes annoying music, Georg Littasy blends well with Brouwenstijn in Padre Guardino's scenes with Leonora, and Renato Capecchi doesn't scene-steal too ostentatiously as Fra Melitone.
Alberto Erede unobtrusively conducts the Netherlands Opera orchestra. Fans of Ms. Brouwenstijn will want this set if somehow the performance has eluded them, and at budget price, any others who love the opera and a fine performance by a soprano will find the set rewarding.
Chris Mullins
image=
image_description=Giuseppe Verdi: La Forza del Destino
product=yes
product_title=Giuseppe Verdi: La Forza del Destino
product_by=Peter van der Bilt (Marchese di Calatrava), Gré Brouwenstijn (Donna Leonora), John Shaw (Don Carlo di Vargas), Jan Peerce (Don Alvaro), Rena Garazioti (Preziosilla), Georg Littasy (Padre Guardiano), Renato Capecchi (Fra Melitone), Conchita Gaston (Curra), Jos Borelli
(Un Alcade), Wim Koopman (Mastro Trabuco), Henk Smit (Un Chirurgo), Orkest en Koor van de Nederlandsche Opera, Alberto Erede (cond.)
Den Haag, July 5, 1962
product_id=Osteria OS-1002 [2CDs]
price=$16.98
product_url=http://www.amazon.com/dp/B000PUB3QK?tag=operatoday-20&camp=14573&creative=327641&linkCode=as1&creativeASIN=B000PUB3QK&adid=0HAMK1X4N4XTQTEQWEPC&
Just because most, if not all, of the better-known pieces from a particular work have been included, that doesn't necessarily make the performances highlights of those particular sets. "Selections" might be the more modest term.
EMI prompted the above thought with a new line of "highlights" from its extensive catalog, released on its budget Classics for Pleasure series. (No, you won't find Moses und Aron or Lulu on its Classics Not for Pleasure series). Consider two discs of "highlights" from Puccini operas. Sir John Barbirolli's classic Madam Butterfly (the "a" of "Madama" dropped for no clear reason) boasts a fine cast: Renata Scotto, Carlo Bergonzi, and Rolando Panerai. In its glorious entirety, this recording has a cumulative power, with much beautiful orchestral detail revealed through Barbirolli's sensitive, if slow-paced, leadership. Although Scotto's top, even at this relatively early stage of her career, reveals some of the metallic edge that would later characterize her high notes, her assumption of Cio-cio san deserves its high reputation. Not much of Bergonzi's elegant Pinkerton can be judged by this highlights set, however. He is heard in the love duet and his act two aria, but the set omits the act one arias. At only 55 minutes, the excuse can't be the CD timing. Beginning with Butterfly's entrance, only about 15 minutes of the first act appears. The second act gets fuller coverage, with the essential Butterfly/Sharpless conversation, the lovely duet with Scotto and Anna di Stasio's Suzuki, and then closing with the opera's last 18 minutes. The single-fold booklet contains a synopsis with numbered references to the track listing.
Only a few years after Montserrat Caballé's classic performance as Liu in the Zubin Mehta Turandot, the soprano moved up to the title role. Joan Sutherland, under Mehta, had used her huge voice to convey both the fierceness and underlying passion of the "ice princess." Caballe sings the role beautifully, no doubt, but the darker edge is naggingly absent. On the credit side, the riddle scene of act two probably never sounded so melodic. José Carreras, a frequent recording partner of Caballé, retains his beautiful middle voice in this 1977 recording, but the top, frequently called on for Calaf, already sounds unpleasantly pushed. Mirella Freni doesn't try to compete with the lovely floating tones of Caballé's Liu from the earlier set. Instead, Freni sings a more full-blooded Liu, with all the passion for the Unknown prince. Not much is heard in this highlights set of Paul Plishka's Timur or Ping, Pang, and Pong. The set times out at a miserly 53 minutes.
Some may respond to Alain Lombard's deliberateness and delicacy, but your reviewer found the conducting ponderous and fussy. Unless one is a huge Caballé fan, the Mehta set remains the version of choice, whether as a complete set or in highlights form. With the Butterfly, true lovers of the opera should seek out the complete set.
Chris Mullins
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Turandot_highlights.png
image_description=Giacomo Puccini: Turandot
product=yes
product_title=Giacomo Puccini: Turandot
product_by=Caballé, Carreras, Freni, Plishka, Sardinero, Corazza, Cassinelli, Senechal, Strasbourg Cathedral Boys' Choir, Rhine Opera Chorus, Strasbourg Philharmonic Orchestra, Alain Lombard (cond.)
product_id=Classics for Pleasure (EMI) 393 3712 [CD]
price=$6.98
product_url=http://www.amazon.com/dp/B000W7M1AI?tag=operatoday-20&camp=14573&creative=327641&linkCode=as1&creativeASIN=B000W7M1AI&adid=1RX32HTZJ6A6SCTR6AMQ&
First Performance: 24 May 1899 at the Théâtre National de l’Opéra-Comique, Paris.
Principal Characters:
Cendrillon | Soprano |
Madame de la Haltière, her stepmother | Mezzo-Soprano or Contralto |
Le Prince Charmant | Falcon or Soprano de sentiment |
La Fée | Soprano léger |
Noémie, stepsister of Cendrillon | Soprano |
Dorothée, stepsister of Cendrillon | Mezzo-Soprano |
Pandolfe, Cendrillon’s father | Basse chantante or Baryton |
Le Roi | Baryton |
Le Doyen de la Faculté | Tenor |
Le Surintendant des plaisirs | Baryton |
Le Premier Ministre | Basse chantante or Baryton |
Commentary:
“Cendrillon is the Massenet opera most readily approachable by those with reservations about his idiom. His musical sense of humour, all too seldom given full rein, is here at its frothiest, and liberally spiced with dry Gallic wit. Variety is assured by the four distinct soundworlds conjured up to tell the fairy-tale: the vigour and pomp of the court music, with Massenet’s best dance numbers apart from Le Cid and affectionate pastiche of classical forms from the ages of Lully and Rameau; the music for the fairy world, which has the airiness and harmonic savour of Mendelssohn crossed with Richard Strauss, both in their E major mode; the writing for Cendrillon and Pandolfe, showing Massenet at his most artlessly economical to match the simple virtues they represent; and the love music, which in its heavily perfumed chromaticism reminds one constantly how well Massenet knew his Wagner (as a student he may have played percussion in the Opéra orchestra at the famous Tannhäuser fiasco of 1861, and there are distinct echoes of the Bacchanale in Act 2 of Cendrillon). The mystical marriage of Act 3 is one of the composer’s most succulent love scenes.” Rodney Milnes: 'Cendrillon (ii)', Grove Music Online (Accessed 31 May 2006).
Click here for the complete libretto.
Syllabus:
Act I | ||||
Setting | Chez Madame de la Haltière | |||
Summary | In the hope of attracting the Prince’s attention, Madame de la Haltière and her daughters dress and leave for the ball. Pandolfe bitterly regrets his remarriage but nevertheless accompanies his wife, heartbroken though he is to leave Cinderella to her miserable lot. The girl unenthusiastically returns to her chores but soon falls asleep. While Cinderella is sleeping, the Fairy Godmother uses the opportunity to dress the girl in a magnificent gown, putting a glass slipper on her foot so that she will not be recognized. Cinderella promises to return at midnight and leaves for the ball. | |||
Sequence | ||||
Scene 1 | Servantes et Serviteurs — On Appelle ! On
Sonne ! Pandolfe — Continuez . . . ce n’est que moi |
|||
Scene 2 | Pandolfe — Du côté de la barbe est la toute puissance | |||
Scene 3 | Mme de la Haltière et ses filles —
Faites-vous très belles, ce soir Mme de la Haltière (Temps de menuet) — Prenez un maintien gracieux |
|||
Scene 4 | Les Domestiques — Ce sont les modistes ! ce
sont les tailleurs ! Mme de la Haltière — De sa robe, il faut que les plis Pandolfe — Félicitez-moi donc de mon exactitude Mme de la Haltière, Noémie, Dorothée, Pandolfe — De la race, de la prestance, de l’audace ! |
|||
Scene 5 | Cendrillon — Ah ! que mes sœurs sont
heureuses ! Cendrillon — Reste au foyer, petit grillon Cendrillon — Comme la nuit est claire ! Le sommeil de Cendrillon |
|||
Scene 6 | La Fée — Douce enfant, ta plainte légère Sylphes et lutins La Fée — Je veux que cette enfant charmante La Fée — Pour en faire un tissu magiquement soyeux Les Esprits — Tous les petits oiseaux nous préteront leurs ailes Cendrillon — Que vois-je ? Ah ! suis-je folle ! La Fée — Écoute-bien . . . quand sonnera minuit La Fée et les Esprits — Partez, Madame la Princesse |
|||
Act II | ||||
Setting | Chez le Roi | |||
Summary | The guests try unsuccessfully to entertain the melancholy Prince. Ballet. Cinderella’s entrance attracts great attention. The young Prince and the girl fall in love at first sight, but soon midnight strikes and Cinderella must leave. | |||
Sequence | ||||
Scene 1 | Luth, viole d’amour et flûte de cristal
(Concert mystérieux) Surintendant des plaisirs, Doyens, Ministres, Courtisan et Docteurs — Que les doux pensers |
|||
Scene 2 | Le Prince Charmant — Cœur sans amour, printemps sans roses | |||
Scene 3 | Entrée du Roi — Mon fils, il vous faut
m’obéir Les Filles de noblesse — (Première entrée du ballet) Les Fiances — (Deuxième entrée) Les Mandores — (Troisième entrée) La Florentine — (Quatrième entrée) Le Rigodon du Roy — (Cinquième entrée) Ah ! nous sommes en sa présence ! Arrivée de Cendrillon — Voyez ! l’adorable beauté ! |
|||
Scene 4 | Le Prince Charmant — Toi qui m’es
apparue Cendrillon — Pour vous, je serai l’inconnue Le Prince Charmant — Je te perdrais ! Cendrillon — Vous étes mon Prince Charmant Le Prince Charmant — Eh ! bien . . . laisse la main la mienne Le Prince Charmant — Suis-je fou ? Qu’est-elle devenue ? |
|||
Act III | ||||
Premier Tableau | ||||
Setting | Le Retour du Bal | |||
Summary | In her haste, Cinderella loses her slipper. Returning
home, Madame de la Haltière expresses her delight at the
Prince’s seeming coolness which caused the unknown girl to flee
from the ball. Cinderella is overcome with emotion. Regaining her
senses, she evokes her dead mother and, weary of life, rushes beneath
the Fairies’ oak to die. |
|||
Sequence | ||||
Scene 1 | Cendrillon — Enfin, je suis ici Cendrillon — A l’heure dite, je fuyais |
|||
Scene 2 | Mme de la Haltière, Noémie, Dorothée —
C’es vrai ! Vouse étes, je vous le déclare Mme de la Haltière — Lorsqu’on a plus de vingt quartiers Cendrillon — Racontez-moi . . . qu’a dit alors le fils du Roi ? Pandolfe — Mais ma fille pâlit ! |
|||
Scene 3 | Pandolfe — Ma pouvre enfant chérie ! Ah ! tu
souffres donc bien ? Pandolfe — Vienx ! nous quittterons cette ville Cendrillon — Maintenant, je suis mieux |
|||
Scene 4 | Cendrillon — Seule, je partirai, mon pere Cendrillon — Adieu, mes souvenirs de joie et de souffrance |
|||
Deuxième Tableau | ||||
Setting | Au Chéne des Fées | |||
Summary | Unable to see each other, the lovers recognize one another by their voices. They implore the Fairy Godmother to remove the bush which she had placed between them. The Prince and Cinderella fall asleep in each other’s arms. | |||
Sequence | ||||
Scene 1 | Voix des Esprits — (Chœur
invisible) La Fée — Fugitives chimères, ó lueurs éphémères Les Gouttes de rosée Les Esprits — Mais, là-bas, au fond de la lande obscùre |
|||
Scene 2 | Cendrillon, le Prince Charmant — A deux
genoux, bonne marraine Le Prince Charmant — Vous qui pouvez tout voir et tout savoir Cendrillon — Une pauvre áme en grand émoi Le Prince Charmant — Tu me l’as dit, ce nom La Fée — Aimez-vous, l’heure est brève |
|||
Act IV | ||||
Premier Tableau | ||||
Setting | La Terrasse de Cendrillon | |||
Summary | Pandolfe emotionally witnesses his daughter’s convalescence. It is announced that the Prince is seeking the owner of the mysterious slipper. Cinderella regains hope. | |||
Sequence | ||||
Scene 1 | Matinée de Printemps Cendrillon — Je m’etais rendormie Pandolfe — Tu riais . . . tu pleurais . . . sans motif et sans trève Cendrillon — Hélas, j’ai donc rêve ! |
|||
Scene 2 | Voix de jeunes filles — Ouvre ta porte et ta
fenétre Cendrillon, Pandolfe — Printemps revient |
|||
Scene 3 | Entrée de Mme de la Haltière — Avancez !
Reculez ! Mme de lat Haltière — Apprenez qu’aujourd’hui l’ordre de notre Roi La voix du Héraut — Bonnes gens, vous êtes avertis Cendrillon — Mon rêve était donc vrai ! |
|||
Deuxième Tableau | ||||
Setting | Chez le Roi — La Cour d’Honneur | |||
Summary | March of the Princesses. The Prince recognizes Cinderella and his love of life is renewed. Madame de la Haltière falls into Cinderella’s arms. “A happy ending is here for all,” concludes Pandolfe. | |||
Sequence | Marche des Princesses La Foule — Salut aux Princesses ! Salut aux Altesses ! Le Prince Charmant — Posez dans son écrin sur un coussin de fleurs La Fée — Prince Charmant, rouvrez les yeux Cendrillon — Vous êtes mon Prince Charmant Pandolfe et les Chœurs — Ici tout finit, la pièce est terminée |
By STEVE SMITH [NY Times, 24 March 2008]
The latest chapter in the continuing saga of the Metropolitan Opera’s star-crossed “Tristan und Isolde” arrived on Saturday afternoon as Robert Dean Smith, an American tenor who has spent much of his recent career in Europe, became the third singer to take the role of Tristan in this run of six performances. Ben Heppner, originally scheduled for the entire run, is now listed on the Met’s Web site only for the final performances, on Tuesday and Friday. At this point even those seem dubious.
David Gordon Duke [Vancouver Sun, 23 March 2008]
A new opera by Tang Kangnian was given a Vancouver premiere Friday night at the Vancouver Playhouse. "Thunderstorm" was a fascinating proposition which sounded a clarion note of diversity in our local opera milieu. Tang worked for many years with the Shanghai Opera before moving to Vancouver in 1990.
(Photo: Opera Illinois)
BY GEORGE LOOMIS [NY Sun, 21 March 2008]
The Metropolitan Opera made a questionable judgment call a few years ago when it abandoned plans for a new production of Verdi's "Falstaff" and decided instead to refurbish its once-classic Franco Zeffirelli production from 1964. Despite efforts on their behalf, however, the sets looked every bit their age when they returned in 2002 and served as a reminder that no production deserves to last forever.
By Georgia Rowe [Mercury News, 20 March 2008]
Marilyn Horne returns to the stage in San Francisco this weekend, but the great American mezzo-soprano won't be singing. Instead, she'll serve as host and narrator for a "theatrical concert" about 19th-century superstar singer-composer Pauline Viardot.
First performance: 16 February 1892 at the Hofoper, Vienna.
Principal characters
Werther, 23-years old | Tenor |
Albert, 25-years old | Baritone |
Le Bailli, 50-years old | Baritone or bass |
Schmidt, friend of Bailli | Tenor |
Johann, friend of Bailli | Baritone or bass |
Brühlmann, young man | Tenor |
Charlotte, daugher of Bailli, 20-years old | Mezzo-soprano |
Sophie, her sister, 15-years old | Soprano |
Kätchen, young girl | Soprano |
Six children: Fritz, Max, Hans, Karl, Gretel, Clara | Soprani or children's voices |
Synopsis
Act I
On the outskirts of Frankfurt, July 178_.
On the terrace of the house of the bailiff, children are practicing Christmas carols. Sophie, the bailiff's fifteen-year-old daughter, looks on while her older sister, Charlotte, prepares for a party. The guests arrive. Among them is the young dreamer Werther ("Je of it sais him je veille"), whom the bailiff introduces to Charlotte. While all are at the dance, Sophie is at home alone when Albert, who is engaged to Charlotte, returns from a long trip. He is greatly disturbed that Charlotte has gone to a dance with another. But Sophie reassures him — his beloved has always thought of him ("Elle me aime"). The two depart, whereupon Werther and Charlotte reenter. Werther declares to her his love, but Charlotte tells him of her promise to her dying mother to marry Albert. Werther, although desperate, doesn't oppose ("The faut nous séparer").
Act II
The following September in the plaza of Wetzlar.
Albert and Charlotte have been married for three months and their friends toast their union. The unhappy Werther attends. Sophie arrives, who is in love with Werther, asks him to dance; but the invitation is rejected. Werther wants to talk to Charlotte. He approaches her to declare his love once more. But she responds by recommending that he leave for a few months and return on Christmas. Werther begins to think that only death can free him from his unhappiness. He again refuses Sophie's invitation to the dance.
Act III
Christmas Eve in the living room of Albert's house.
Charlotte is uneasy as she rereads a letter of Werther. Sophie asks her if she were sad because of the absence of Werther ("Je vous écris"). Charlotte begins to weep. Werther arrives. While he is reading her some verses of Ossian, he kisses her. They embrace, but Charlotte then runs away confining herself in a room ("Pourquoi me réveiller"). Werther leaves the house. He now knows that there is no happiness for him. Shortly thereafter he sends a note to Albert to ask him to loan him his pistols to take with him on a trip. Charlotte realizes the truth and hurries to Werther's home.
Act IV
It is Christmas night.
Werther lies dying in his study. Upon hearing the voice of Charlotte, he is revived for an instant. He asks for forgiveness and for a proper burial ("Là-bas, au fond du cimitière"). He dies in Charlotte's arms as she confesses the truth — she has always loved him. She expresses her regret at having sacrificed her own true feelings to an oath. Children are heard from afar singing Christmas carols.
Click here for the complete libretto.
image=http://www.operatoday.com/content/thill_werther.jpg
image_description=Georges Thill as Werther
audio=yes
first_audio_name=Jules Massenet: Werther
first_audio_link=http://www.operatoday.com/Werther.m3u
product=yes
product_title=Jules Massenet: Werther
product_by=Georges Thilll, Ninon Vallin, Germaine Feraldy, Marcel Roque, Armand Narçon, Louis Guenot, Henri Niel, Choeurs d'enfants de la Cantoria, Orchestre du Théâtre National de l'Opéra-Comique, Elie Cohen (cond.). Recorded March 1931.
The opera, for political reasons at the time of its composition, was not given its world premiere until last 2006 when it was given in concert in Montpellier, closely followed by its stage premiere in Mannheim in 2007.
Set in 16th-century Genoa, it inhabits the same world as Verdi's Simon Boccanegra, though its dark and threatening atmosphere make it more reminiscent of Un ballo in maschera or La Gioconda. It certainly succeeds in evoking an Italian flavour more effectively than any other mid-19th-century French opera about Italy which comes to mind.
As the performance progressed, I wished I had familiarised myself with the synopsis rather more thoroughly at the outset. It seemed to be a tale of marital jealousy on one hand, and one of political intrigue on the other — with the two threads having little relevance to one another. Somehow I had missed the crucial detail that the wanton Julie, with whom the eponymous hero seems determined to break his marriage vows, is the daughter of the enemy and therefore a pivotal pawn in a political game.
Indeed, the dramatic structure of the piece is flawed; for example, the opening scene belongs to Fiesque's wife Leonore, who is lamenting her husband's apparent abandonment of her, but it's then several scenes before she makes another appearance. There are a lot of characters, and so many plot details that it is very difficult to remember anybody's motivation for their actions. To make matters worse, the plot hinges on Fiesque himself often acting in a seemingly erratic manner, which only adds to the confusion – in fact he's acting for the greater good, but the audience don't get let into the secret any sooner than his family or allies do. There is simply too much going on, too few threads holding it all together, and too much incongruity amongst the motley group of characters.
The revolution scene
Emma Rivlin's straightforward production serves it well, however, and UC Opera's amateur forces (making up the chorus, orchestra and comprimario roles) gave the best performance I have heard from them in several years. Under Charles Peebles's direction, there was little in the orchestral playing to remind the audience of the players' amateur status. Similarly the chorus, made up of lots of youthful, amateur voices, may not have a traditionally 'operatic' timbre but produced an impressive sound. The chorus was well-directed, too, especially in the revolution scene towards the end, where the highly-charged atmosphere was palpable and everybody looked involved.
As for the professional principals, the male leads were, for the most part, very strongly cast: Robert Davies was outstanding as Fiesque's political-ally-turned-nemesis, Verrina, and tenor David Curry gave an assured and polished account of the title role. Margaret Cooper's Leonore and Alison Crookendale's Julie both suffered from over-generous vibrato and one-dimensional character portraits (though to be fair, neither role has much to work with in terms of character development.)
Fiesque may not be a lost masterpiece, but UC Opera certainly made as persuasive a case for it as it is ever likely to get.
Click here for this production's program.
Ruth Elleson © 2008
image=http://www.operatoday.com/IMG_6925.png image_description=Lalo: Fiesque (University College Opera) product=yes product_title=Édouard Lalo: FiesqueExcept they don't. Except, that is, in Frankfurt Opera's new production staged by Claus Guth and designed by Christian Schmidt, with imaginative costumes contributed by Anna Sofie Tuma.
Not that this is frivolously considered. It's not. And not that it's not very handsome indeed to look at. It is. Seldom has the famous Frankfurt turntable been used to better advantage than in swinging this elegant, white, two-level ship back and forth, always smoothly and soundlessly, revealing a suite, a bedroom, a first class bar, a hint of an open deck, a chapel, an imposing stair to the upper level, and a lounge. Messrs. Guth and Schmidt are seeking, nay stretching to find a metaphor here, and the unifying ideas they stress to be common to these three one-acters are, I believe, two:
Let's add a third: In the midst of life we are in the midst of death. Or does this production team consider it the other way around? At one point in the evening, my colleague leaned over and summoned "Sixth Sense," quipping: "I see Dead People." There were enough ghosts floating around to people a decent revival of "Poltergeist."
- People make foolishly bad decisions and have to suffer the consequences, reaping what they sow.
- Coping with the death of a loved one (or "tolerated one," as with "Buoso") is a defining Life Moment.
Back to the ship, just how much about those two "discussion bullets" above actually "floats" in the context of these one-acters? Truth to tell, not so very much. For the first act, Schmidt's elegant setting was assuredly not the original milieu of the score's dock workers and Seine denizens, and the honking and tooting of the industrial river traffic in the score seemed rather comically out of place with the surroundings. And what are those rough-and-tumble stevedores doing in a ship's classy bar anyway?
That said, "Il Tabarro" was exceptionally well-blocked, and the direction of the character relationships throughout the night was nothing short of electrifying. The "Luigi-Giorgietta" duet ('scuse me, Giacomo) is B-level Puccini. But the total commitment of the lovers, and the uninhibited erotic longings of our heroine transformed this passage into one of the hottest operatic encounters I have ever seen. Pawing her prey, this soprano-as-sex-kitten had a powerful itch and wanted it scratched; rubbing and purring, cooing and grinding, and creating heat not usually found on the operatic stage.
This was due in no small measure to the thrilling "discovery" of soprano Elza van den Heever ("Giorgietta"). In her first professional appearances ever, Ms. Heever gave a star-making performance characterized by uninhibited acting, beauty of form, and a highly polished lirico-spinto sound that had a touch of metal in the big declamations. The opera world needs singers of her caliber and she should go far. She was well-partnered by the experienced "Luigi" of Frank van Aken, also quite a fearless performer, who commands a robust. well-schooled, if slightly muscular tenor.
"Michele" and "Giorgietta's" beautifully voiced duet was imagined as a love-hate encounter that too created its own sparks. Among the white-clad spirit figures peopling each act was, in this duet, the couple's dead Love Child, playing with a makeshift folded paper boat, moved portentously in and about the action. As "Michele" forcibly kept his wife wrapped in the cloak, the child got seamlessly trapped with the pair in the garment during, providing an unforgettably haunting, chills-inducing image.
Suor Angelica — Angelina Ruzzafante (Suor Angelica, links oben), Ensemble
Only the critical fight scene when "Michele" chokes "Luigi" was rather meekly staged. Okay, okay, this is tricky stuff, with rapid fire "dialogue" that is not particularly well-timed in the score, and lots of scuffling required between baritone and tenor. Still, it appeared that our tenor was not choked, but rather "lapeled" to death. ("Nooooo, don't go grabbin' my lapels!! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh, I am melting, melting, what a world. . .what a world. . .")
No equivocation though that Zeljko Lucic was a first-rate "Michele." This splendid "house singer" has gone on to great acclaim in the world's most prestigious houses, including the Met's recent broadcast "Macbeth." That his success is deserved was evidenced on this occasion by a suavely sung "Michele," no more so than in his big ranting aria near act's end. He brought sound technique, burnished tone, and dramatic fire to bear in equal measure to forge a figure of profound tragedy. Later in the evening, Lucic regaled us anew with a wry, witty, expansively sung "Schicchi."
Julia Juon is a treasurable artist who was a memorable "Frugola," her little "cat arietta" giving much pleasure. She is perhaps too diminutive for the "Principessa," and was not helped by being placed behind the bar for the bulk of her great scene. It made her look even shorter, and served as a real visual barrier to our connection with her arrogance and imperiousness. Too, her tightly focused voice is not the big honking baritonal sound that Maureen Forester and Marilyn Horne have brought to the part. With "Zita" she was on solid ground again, looking eerily evocative of Rue McClanahan in "Golden Girls." Cagey, cool, elegant, steady and characterful of voice, this was nonetheless a wonderful trio turn for the popular Ms. Juon.
Longtime Frankfurt ensemble member Carlos Krause was a fully rounded "Talpa" as well as a delightfully scheming "Simone." The drunken exhortations of "Trincula" were well handled by Hans-Juergen Lazar. Daniel Behle was a sweet-voiced "Song Seller" who would later prove to be a slimy and persuasive "Gherardo."
Although "Tabarro" was shoe-horned into this concept, it still fully made it's case. The gentle "Suor Angelica" had rougher seas to traverse. Again I gotta ask: Is there anything about this simple convent tale that "floats"? Or that can allow for the fact that a strict, reclusive religious order is inexplicably on a luxury cruise? Are these actually the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence on a gay holiday? Whaddupwiddat?
The sweet little expository cameos of the rather anonymous and interchangeable sisters went for even less than usual. The setting here was such such a distraction that I spent more time wondering about the anachronisms than I did enjoying the overall wonderful singing and playing.
Within this ill-conceived framework, though, star soprano Danielle Halbwachs served notice that she is a wonderful, commanding, well-rounded artist. She sings with informed nuance, considerable power, and generous tone.
What she does not possess to my taste is a particularly Puccinian sound and therein lies a rub. "Angelica" is a character study (and nothing but) painted in a quintessential Italianate sound vocabulary. Not her fault, but where the voice should spin and gleam, such as in the upper reaches of the luminous climaxes, her technique only touched on the notes before fleeing to more comfortable lower reaches. The final floated high note of "Senza Mamma" did not come easily, and on this occasion, resisted focusing into the requisite finely spun filigree.
Dramatically, the director had her affect a cliched trembling hand a la Tom Hanks in "Saving Private Ryan" -- quieted only by death. Truth in Reporting: All my reservations seemed to matter not one whit to the Publikum who received her rapturously, and, well, why not? Our diva did the vast majority of things right, and is a hugely talented performer. So talented that I would love to see her in other, more suitable roles of her core repertoire.
But what a sad mish-mosh "Angelica" turned out to be. Our Singing Nun seemed to have a sideboard/mini-bar in her suite that was very well stocked with herbs, weeds, seeds, Diet Coke (I made that up), and well, um, poisons. Huh? (See the problem here?) If Carnival Cruises ever offers this tour package, I advise you to pass on it. Or at least avoid the herbal teas.
Gianni Schicchi — Željko Lučić (Gianni Schicchi, rechts), Solistenensemble (Verwandte)
With "Gianni Schicchi" we were back in the realm of believability, although the paeans to the vista of Florence were certainly not credible. I have been there. Big ass cruise ships cannot dock in the Arno. But, save that, there is nothing inherently wrong about "Buoso" and "famiglia" being on this boat. Guth found much to revel in and nailed any number of comic moments.
In a startling revelation our "Lauretta" is shown to be pregnant. Whether the singer really is or not, the reveal at the end of "O Mio Babbino Caro" (competently sung by Juanita Lascarro) was a stunner, and it worked. The Pillsbury Doughboy "Rinuccio" of Massimiliano Pisapia was a real crowd pleaser thanks to an ample, pointed, veristic tone and well shaped phrases. Mr. Pisapia is a tenor to watch.
The entire ensemble of greedy relatives made outstanding contributions, not least of which was Nathaniel Webster as "Marco." Angelina Ruzzafante, Franz Mayer, and Claudian Mahnke contributed sparkling jewels of individualized characterizations as "Nella," "Betto," and "Ciesca," respectfully. Throughout the night the Frankfurt Opera Orchestra under Yuval Zorn played very responsively, although (as in "Suor Angelica") occasionally with more passion than precision.
Perhaps the metaphor for the whole Ship of Fools concept came at the end of "Schicchi" when our leading baritone apparently shoots himself off stage. Shoots himself! I mean, Big Bang off stage, and he lumbers back on, bloodied, taking his ghostly time mounting the stairs, as a melancholy voice-over pronounces his final speech to the audience.
My Big Bang Theory? "Schicchi" went off stage and said "Oh damn, I have been playing this Florentine opera on a cruise ship! It's the fifteenth century, for God's sake! I'm a Fool! Onore! Famiglia!. . . .Bang!"
But seriously now, this was a terrific cast in a conscientiously considered, well-staged, musically sound production. The audience cheered it to the rafters. As for me, I admired the skills of the talented and earnest production team so much, that I would welcome the chance to see more of their work. Or. . . to see them put all these excellent elements into a more realistic production. Now there is a radical concept!
If not everything about this "Il Triticco" worked, it was still the product of a healthy and prolific artistic mind. I was always engaged, sometimes led astray, but always hoping to see more from this talented team.
James Sohre
image=http://www.operatoday.com/tabarro.png image_description=Il tabarro--Željko Lučić (Michele), Elza van den Heever (Giorgetta), Kind von Giorgetta und Michele (Statisterie der Oper Frankfurt) product=yes product_title=Giacomo Puccini: Il TritticoOr at least, to think. Plus, he is a darn nice guy.
Having admired both the musical dramas "Dead Man Walking" and the revised "The End of the Affair," as well as any number of his recorded songs, I was greatly looking forward to the Houston Grand Opera premiere of his newest work, "Last Acts." To say the least, I was not disappointed.
Gene Scheer's libretto takes as its inspiration a very short work by Terence McNally, and features only three singers: "Madeline Mitchell," an actress, and "Charlie" and "Beatrice," her children, all of whom seem to live in Dysfunction Junction. There is actually a fourth, if absent character, the late husband/father, whose untimely death informs much of the conflict.
"Madeline" is a consummate stage mother, although not in the "Mama Rose" mold. She lives to be on stage, driven to deriving fulfillment from her approving audiences to the exclusion of the children after the loss of her husband. Although she is the pivotal figure, the emotional journey of "Last Acts" is more that of her gay son (whose partner is dying of AIDS), and alcoholic daughter (whose marriage cannot compensate for the early loss of her father), who long for her acceptance, or well, just plain recognition.
McNally's early piece was conceived for the concert platform (an AIDS benefit with the NYC Gay Men's Chorus) and uses a unifying dramatic device of the mother's annual, appallingly self-centered Christmas letter. As expanded here, the three acts are set a decade apart starting in 1986, at the height of the cataclysmic AIDS casualties here in the US.
Act One begins with baritone Keith Phares (exceedingly handsome of voice and face) and soprano Kristin Clayton (also looking radiant with singing to match), commiserating on the telephone over the contents of this annual letter, and lamenting their mother's detachment.
This act belongs most to "Charlie" as we come to learn of his partner's affliction, his craving of mom's approval, and ultimately, his co-dependence on his sister. A fine actor, Mr. Phares delivered a powerfully affecting, high-flying solo without a trace of self-pity, and joined Ms. Clayton at act's end for a deeply moving, beautifully sung duet about the memory of their father. "Bea" remembers dad (or idealizes him) as a benevolent patriarch in a comfortable easy chair. "Charlie" despairs that he remembers only . . .the chair. This was moving stuff, and arguably one of the high points in a score filled with pleasures.
Act Two gives way to "Beatrice's" demons, and Ms. Clayton is up to the challenge, with a bountiful lyric voice and spot-on projection throughout the range. She makes the most out of an extended scene of trying on mom's dresses (to accompany her to the Tony's), and delights us in a witty duet with her brother, extolling the virtues of "buying shoes" (a metaphor for therapy). Shortly after, she does a turn-about and has a searing confrontation with her mother, hurling powerfully sung phrases, and provoking a dramatic revelation about her idealized dad.
Any opera featuring the luminous mezzo Frederica von Stade ("Madeline Mitchell") at its center already has a lot going for it. This remarkable artist has been favoring us with consistently fine performances for over three decades. In my own experience, I cherish vivid memories of her Hamburg "Rosina," Brussels "Cendrillon," Paris "Octavian," New York "Cherubino," and most recently her "Mother" in San Francisco's "Dead Man Walking." The good news is that she is not only still a classy, beautiful, consummate artist, but she is also still singing very very well.
If the sheen and spin of her younger days is a bit diminished, it is amply compensated for by a hint of full-bodied, mature earthiness that was not there before. And if there is a very slight shifting of gears in and out of the chest voice now, she negotiates this rangy role with knowing skill. And our composer has given her some wonderful musical moments that play to all her interpretive strengths. She charms, she rants, she belts, she caresses, she provokes, she soothes, and she pours out phrase after phrase of plangent sound.
Act Three ultimately made "Madeline" a more fully rounded and sympathetic character, and ended by bringing her to the apron to invoke her philosophy of life which also happens to be the final phrase of her latest Christmas epistle. This act is much shorter than the either of the first two and seems more a postlude. Indeed the program heading says "an opera in two acts" although it later lists three, with an intermission between the first two.
To its credit and benefit, it does not hurt that "Last Acts" had the full arsenal of the HGO's first rate production values at its disposal, starting with director/designer Leonard Foglia. He placed the chamber orchestra on stage at the top level of some stepped platforms, making good, varied use of this playing space, to include raising and lowering actors and set pieces on the hydraulic pit apron.
By also flying in well-chosen minimal set pieces, and factoring in a flawless lighting design from Brian Nason, Mr. Leonard scored a lot of points for focus and variety. Cesar Galinda's wonderfully effective, occasionally dazzling costumes were also a great contribution, not least of which was the "reveal" of our diva's sequined red show gown from under a short cocktail dress as the scene progressed from entertainment at a private party to a Broadway show performance. Not since Effie White's "I Am Changing" turn in "Dreamgirls" has this effect been seen to better, more magical advantage.
But it was not just flash and dazzle and sleight of hand from our director. Add to the above an unerring sense of communicating character relationships, and a clarity in relating the story line, resulting in our being treated to some uncommonly fine acting.
The music was typically tuneful, dramatically engaging Heggie. In addition to the afore-mentioned set pieces, there were several hauntingly lovely motifs that caught the ear, Mme. von Stade had a wonderful scena when she reveals all about dad, and there were two sinuously intertwining trios that were achingly beautiful. Each character had a telling, well-considered monologue. And our composer sure knows how to deliver comedic punch lines with well-paced set-up and accurate pay-offs. The "Shoe Duet" in 3/4 time was reminiscent of Sondheim's "A Little Priest" without the Macabre.
That is not to say that absolutely everything worked, "Madeline's" comic party piece was missing that final "something" that would have made it play like the showstopping Cy Coleman novelty number it aspired to be. And early in Act Two, the libretto occasionally seemed too pat, bringing in a gratuitous reference or two about the father, or lacking clear definition of "Bea's" alcoholism and motivation for her to turn on her mother. But these are points that will be worked out as these talented creators play it for an audience. It remains to be said that this is a lovely chamber opera that greatly pleased its audience.
One quibble: since the three vocalists all had exemplary English diction, why the surtitles? They occasionally trumped the actors in giving away the dramatic and comic lines too soon, and why? They're not singing Polish, for God's sake! Turn that pacifier off when we can damn well hear and understand the words ourselves! (Thanks, I feel better now. . .)
The effective orchestration calls for five strings, oboe/English horn, one woodwind with doublings, percussion, and two keyboards played by the composer himself and HGO Music Director and conductor Patrick Summers. Maestro Summers has been instrumental in championing Heggie, and conducted the premieres of all three of his operas to date. As on other occasions, he led this group of superlative musicians with skill, dramatic savvy, and sensitive support.
"Last Acts" has other productions lined up starting in San Francisco, where it will play under its new title "Three Decembers." A rose by any other name should sound as sweet, especially if it has a cast, orchestra, and production support as top notch as that assembled by Houston Grand Opera. Mssrs. Heggie and Summers are young men. Here's hoping that they collaborate on many many more "Last Acts" of this high quality before their careers are finished.
James Sohre
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Last_Acts_HGO_2008_2.png image_description= Frederica von Stade (Madeline) sings a childhood lullaby to Keith Phares (Charlie) to console him in Jake Heggie’s Last Acts. HGOs 37th world premiere opera. Photo courtesy of HGO product=yes product_title=Jake Heggie: Last ActsSince Agamemnon and Clytemnestra were at their Attic — and antic — best families in a fix have been a major source of raw material for creative artists. Thus it’s easy to understand Jake Heggie’s fascination with the Mitchells — mother “Maddy,” an ageing actress, her gay son Charlie and daughter Bea, wife of a wayward husband, the subject of “Last Acts,” a chamber opera premiered by the Houston Grand Opera on February 29.
The Mitchells are something of a special case, for not only are they a mess as a group, but individually as well. “Maddy” has concealed her husband’s suicide from her estranged children. Charlie, the younger, watches his partner die of AIDS, while Bea — her kids already in college — laments her husband’s philandering. Heggie found the Mitchells — the deceased husband, although absent from the work, is still part of the family — in “Christmas Letters,” a 2001 play by his frequent librettist Terrence McNally that was given a single reading at a New York AIDS benefit. Smitten by the story, the composer asked Gene Scheer to fashion a libretto from McNally’s text.
When Heggie is on stage there’s no “Capriccio”-style clamor — “prima la musica e poi le parole” — about words versus music. He’s a setter of words, a composer first of songs and then of operas and musical scenes, in which the text comes first. The new score is smooth and flows without huge ups and downs; an occasional nudge of dissonance might have made listeners more aware of the finely-wrought music they are hearing. Heggie makes it too easy for the audience, drawing them into the story with his refined sense of theater and allowing them to overlook the sophisticated music that he has written.
A young composer could not have wished for better on-the-job training than Heggie got when he joined the press wing of the San Francisco Opera in 1994. Just out of college with a stack of early songs under his arm, he was immediately involved in the company’s 1994 world premiere of Conrad Susa’s “Dangerous Liaisons.” It helped him hone the skills that led to the SFO commission — and premiere — of his “Dead Man Walking” in 2000. (It remains the most successful opera of the new century thus far.) And the star of the Susa cast was Frederica von Stade, who became Heggie’s friend, muse and mentor. Heggie pays homage to the legendary mezzo in “Last Acts,“ a two-hour study of the Mitchells’ woes.
Tailor-made for her, von Stade is in her element in “Last Acts,” performed on a largely bare stage with an ensemble of 11 instrumentalists on risers behind her. Cesar Galindo provided her with sumptuous gowns, and Brian Nason‘s lighting added to the effectiveness of shifting scenes. Von Stade relishes “Maddy” and she accounted for the success that the work was in the eyes — and ears — of the opening-night audience that packed the 1000-seat Cullen Theater in Houston’s Wortham Center. Indeed, if there is an inherent weakness in the work, it is in the undiminished vocal splendor and still ravishing beauty of the famous mezzo, for von Stade — now 62 — will never grow old. And although Heggie admits that he can see others in the role, “Last Acts” will survive probably only as long as von Stade is able to sing it, for the work is so uniquely hers.
In his HGO debut youthful baritone Keith Phares was a troubled Charlie, while Kristin Clayton was a trifle too matronly to be the daughter of ageless von Stade. “Last Acts” is more Broadway than Berlioz, and von Stade’s first-act “number” is the “hit” of the work. And while the opening act is somewhat bland, Heggie’s skill comes to the fore as the previously concealed truth about the suicide of husband/father is revealed in the second. In the well-balanced score each of the children has a major solo scene. Heggie writes “big” music, even when composing for chamber forces. “Last Acts” is lush and listenable, warm and warming; it’s accessible and affirmative in gesture. Although “Maddy,” affirming that it’s the truth that makes us free, concludes that everything “is going to be alright,” one must wonder whether Heggie — and Scheer — have not made things a bit too simple.
The audience is asked to accept that “Maddy” went on stage to put food on the table and shoes on little feet. No one asks whether she, convinced that “truth could only be touched by imagination,” was in the beginning the constant wife of which everyone dreams. Did she perhaps conceal too much in finding “a version of our lives that we could all live with?” Does “Last Acts” suggest that there is a [italics] truth, rather than the [italics]? Is this not rather a further “take” on life as a stage, in which fiction substitutes for fact? (Not to be overlooked, of course, is the fact that Heggie’s father killed himself when his son was 10.)
HGO music director Patrick Summers conducted from one piano; Heggie was at a second.
Commissioned by the HGO in association with San Francisco Opera and Cal Performances, “Last Acts” will be titled “Three Decembers” in future performances. Heggie has been commissioned to write a new work on “Moby-Dick” to open the Margot and Bill Winspear Opera House, the new home of Dallas Opera, on April 30, 2010.
Wes Blomster
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Last_Acts_HGO_2008.png image_description= Frederica von Stade (Madeline) and Kristin Clayton (Beatrice) in Jake Heggie’s Last Acts. HGOs 37th world premiere opera. Photo courtesy of HGO. product=yes product_title=Jake Heggie: Last ActsWarwick Thompson [Bloomberg.com, 17 March 2008]
March 17 (Bloomberg) -- There are few things more heartening to an opera lover than a queen boiling with jealousy, going mad, and getting her head chopped off. Donizetti's ``Anna Bolena'' (Anne Boleyn) hits every mark.
(Photo courtesy of CAMI)
By VIVIEN SCHWEITZER and STEVE SMITH [NY Times, 17 March 2008]
The mezzo soprano Isabel Leonard made a noteworthy Metropolitan Opera debut last fall as Stéphano in “Roméo et Juliette,” demonstrating a lively stage presence and a radiant lyric voice. On Friday she proved that she is also confident on the recital stage, making her New York debut at Weill Recital Hall, ably accompanied by the pianist Brian Zeger.
BY GEORGE LOOMIS [NY Sun, 17 March 2008]
Giuseppe Verdi's 200th birthday is five years away, but it looks as though the baritone Thomas Hampson is celebrating early. His operatic docket this season includes Verdi operas exclusively — "Macbeth" in San Francisco, "Don Carlo" in Vienna, "La Traviata" in Chicago and Zurich. And he makes his debut as Don Carlo in "Ernani" tonight when the hot-blooded Romantic sizzler returns to the Metropolitan Opera for the first time since 1985.
By Shirley Apthorp [Financial Times, 16 March 2008]
Blood, mud and madness are the key ingredients of David Freeman’s new Wozzeck for Brussels’ La Monnaie. At the end of the evening, when Marie’s throat has been slit and Wozzeck has sunk to his death beneath the murky water, it is Alban Berg’s music that leaves the strongest impression, a timeless story flawlessly told.
Neil Fisher [Times Online, 12 March 2008]
Strictly no applause until the very end. A long, long hush when Jesus dies on the Cross. And picnics with folding camping chairs in the Festival Hall foyers during the two-hour lunch interval between betrayal and Crucifixion. This is the Bach Choir at Easter, and it's a distinctly curious experience for the uninitiated.
Martin Kettle [The Guardian, 12 March 2008]
Mess with Eugene Onegin at your peril. Several characters in Pushkin's verse novel and Tchaikovsky's opera learn this the hard way. But the warning applies to directors, too. The relationship between Tchaikovsky's assured "lyric scenes" and Pushkin's dazzling irony is a delicate one. Unfortunately, the late Steven Pimlott's production, here revived by Elaine Kidd for the first time since the director's tragic death last year, blunders gratuitously into the elaborate dialectic between author and composer. The result is a theatrical jumble.
As the flick begins, they announce that Matt Damon has a virus and had to leave; he's being replaced by someone who's never done the part before. But it's okay. Then, halfway through, Gwyneth Paltrow (the star) goes running off-screen, leaving the guy hanging in mid love scene. After a moment, the screen goes dark (but not before you saw the panic in his eyes). Pause. Then they announce Miss Paltrow is ill, and will be replaced by (name you never heard of). She wears the same dress and wig but doesn't look anything like her. She takes a while to warm up, but hey, Daniel Day-Lewis walks off with the character part anyway. (As you expected.) Somehow the kid gets through the big final scene, and the girl takes the climax. Thundering ovation. You never had that happen to you at the movies, did you? (Low class bastards.)
At the Met tonight, Tristan und Isolde. Rumors of doom had been circulating since the disastrous prima on Monday. Ben Heppner, virused up, has run back to Canada. (He's been cracking on all his high notes anyway.) The tenor who replaced him Monday was so bad, he was booed off the stage. (Ugly too, they tell me.) So tonight they found some kid who'd never sung Tristan before. Gary Lehman (this is a heldentenor?) We're all very hopeful. (Besides, Matti Salminen is King Marke, and bound to be a hit.) Peter Gelb, announcing the change, looks like he has veins of ice water and this happens all the time. The kid is tall, well built, looks like Errol Flynn, sings okay, acts okay, keeps an eye fixed on Jimmy. Then, halfway through the love duet in Act II, Debbie Voigt runs off stage. To get a drink of water I presumed. The tenor just sort of stands there, singing ardently to a blank stage, Jimmy keeps conducting ... the curtain comes down. Pause. Someone (not Gelb) comes out to say: Don't leave the room, Debbie's sick, some soprano no one has heard of (Janice Baird, and she IS on the roster) is getting dressed and will take over.
Of course she hasn't had time (much less a whole act) to warm up, but anyway: At last we get the duet again (which means the poor Tristan will be singing more of the opera in one night than ANYONE EVER HAS). Isolde finally warms up by the climax. Matti Salminen walks off with it, as I knew he would. In the intermission, my friend La Cieca (opera columnist a l'outrance, see www.parterre.com) says, "I'm speechless." I said, "Don't tell me we'll have to replace you too!" Well, Lehman sings Act III, the toughest workout for tenor ever composed. Doesn't sound fabulous, but he's okay. No cracked high notes. Isolde rushes in clumsily (she's never rehearsed), sings Liebestod. She's okay. Silence to the last chord.
Chaos: Standing ovation for the pair, then for the whole cast, then for Jimmy. It's 1 a.m. and nobody wants to leave without screaming. Nobody wanted to have been, for those six hours, anywhere else in the world.
I bet you've never been at a movie where this happened.
John Yohalem
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Baird_Janice_medium.png image_description=Janice Baird product=yes product_title=Richard Wagner: Tristan und IsoldeThe primary benefit of these vocal scores seems clear enough: making available affordable, convenient, modern critical editions of Handel’s operas.1 Hitherto, individuals have been largely limited to reproductions of Chrysander’s admirable but often unreliable ninetieth-century German scores (G. F. Händels Werke: Ausgabe der deutschen Händelgesellschaft, 1858–94), which are availably for purchase only sporadically (in the form, for example, of the Dover Score of Giulio Cesare and Kalmus’s miniature reprint series). Bärenreiter’s full-score editions, of course, have been beyond the means of most individuals – Riccardo Primo and Tolomeo are priced at €335.00 and €259.00 respectively – and are obviously intended primarily for institutional purchase. At prices in the €25–€40 range, however, the vocal editions are affordable to a wide range of scholars, students, and performers.
As has generally been the case, the vocal scores of Riccardo Primo and Tolomeo have followed the release of the full-score editions of the same operas in the Hallische Händel-Ausgabe (HHA) complete-works series.2 Needless to say, the vocal editions cannot offer many of the advantages of the HHA full scores, which have been nearly unanimously hailed for the wealth of explanatory information they provide. The orchestrational indications, for example, offer only sketches of Handel’s instrumentation, and are not always entirely clear. Similarly, although a list of general procedural guidelines is supplied in the front matter, explanations of specific editorial decisions are, of necessity, extremely limited. The front matter, however, provides (in both German and English) historical background, plot synopses, and, in the case of Riccardo Primo, descriptions of the divergent versions of the opera, giving students and scholars important contextual information. (These passages are in some cases reproduced verbatim from the HHA editions, and in others presented in condensed form.)
On balance, Ricardo Primo, Tolomeo, and the rest of the series serve their purpose quite well. For researchers, the editions will likely save many a trip to the university library (especially if the vocal scores are supplemented with background and source information from Winton Dean’s two-volume monograph on Handel’s operas). Moreover, vocal instructors, students, and professional singers alike are sure to find the editions invaluable, in that they provide relatively easy access to dependable editions of Handel’s operatic works with each new publication.
Nathan Link
1. The vocal score of Amadigi di Gaula was published in late February 2008; Oreste is set to be published in May 2008.
2. There are three exceptions: the vocal scores for Ezio (scheduled for publication Summer 2008), Alcina (due for publication in 2009), and Giulio Cesare (publication date not yet clear) have preceded the publication of the respective HHA full score.
image=http://www.operatoday.com/Handel_Riccardo.png image_description=G. F. Handel: Riccardo primo, Re d’Inghilterra (HWV 23) product=yes product_title=G. F. Handel: Riccardo primo, Re d’Inghilterra (HWV 23); Tolomeo, Re d’Egitto (HWV 25) product_by=Bärenreiter-Verlag, Kassel, 2007 product_id=Riccardo primo, Re d’Inghilterra — ISBN/ISMN: M-006-53247-6 (BA4081 90)When I first heard the score of Peter Grimes on a recording, this grinding melody seemed an inexplicable change of rhythm. When I then saw the opera, in a naturalistic production (as most of them have been – a natural choice in an opera so free of hyperbolic, godlike characters, so full of pointed village incident), all became clear to me: Peter the fisherman, has tossed a rope from his boat onto the shore. In a tiny fishing village, every able-bodied person helps out – they will take the rope to the capstan on the wharf and wheel him in against the tide. But the villagers ignore Grimes the pariah, until some of the less snooty types, Balstrode (retired sea captain), Ned Keene (apothecary who caters to all appetites – licit and otherwise), and Auntie (the blowsy innkeeper who keeps a brothel on the side) take the rope and wheel Peter in, singing a song in proper style. Britten gave us landlubbers a glimpse of coastal life, revealed Grimes’s position as outcast, and introduced one of the dozens of fascinating moody, tangy, not quite pretty melodies that enrich this extraordinary score.
This is sung very well in John Doyle’s stylized staging at the Met – but what’s going on? The singers step in an ungainly fashion, in place – but there is no capstan. To anyone who has not seen a naturalistic staging, or who has not studied the libretto closely, or who hasn’t spent time in a seaport, the song, the moment, the drama go by the board.
This is my problem again and again with Doyle’s artfully pointless staging. In Act II, a boy falls down a cliff to his accidental death – a death for which Grimes will be blamed. But we do not see this – we hear the faint, thin scream and see Peter staring down a trap door. Unless you know the opera, you will not understand the scene. (Is this a theater piece or a concert?) In the last act, instead of coming upon the maddened Peter and trying to coax him home as in other productions, Ellen and Balstrode stand in doorways ten feet above him on the stage. There is no link. Ellen’s cry when Balstrode tells Peter to drown himself did not touch me – the only time it hasn’t. I don’t fault Patricia Racette for it – I fault her position on the stage, high in the wall of doorways. She should be reaching for Peter with the maternal instinct that is her nature, and only at Balstrode’s words does she realize – still instinctively fighting against it – that she can no longer save him. Worst of all, perhaps, is the great riot scene of Act III, scene 1 – when the townspeople howl for Grimes’s blood – the pacifist Britten’s disgusted tribute to the appeal of so-recently-defeated fascism. It’s not here. The chorus on a narrow apron of stage forms like a congregation, the individual characters stand like soloists in a choir – no turmoil, no orchestrated roister, no mob, no terror. It’s a tribute to choral study, not a drama, much less one of the most shattering moments of political theater in modern opera.
The musical forces performing this walled concert are in exceptional form. Donald Runnicles deftly weaves the orchestra into a nautical tapestry, and his light, moody touches are so effective I visualized the sea in its various moods and colors as Britten played his oceanic instrument. The uneven burst of bawdy tavern music, for example, that intrudes on the murky tides of the prelude to Act III, has never felt – sounded – looked – more like a picture, a video, an impressionist painting of lights reflected off a lonely pier into the dark, imponderable heaving sea at night. Runnicles leads a gorgeous performance, always light, always hinting deep, never slacking the tension; the Met orchestra play like heroes for him.
Anthony Dean Griffey has the sort of lyrical tenor Britten wrote for – a tenor much in the mold of Peter Pears, Britten’s partner and muse. The dreamy, fantastic side of this fisherman out of water comes through, but I could have used more of the hearty brute than Griffey is able to imply. It is right that he looks more haunted than the romantic leading man, but I never felt – as I did when, say, Jon Vickers sang the role – that Grimes’s apprentices, or Ellen whom he loves, or anyone else was in any danger from Griffey’s Grimes. He couldn’t hurt a sea urchin. I wanted more of the murderous determination that I heard in his performance as Abraham to David Daniels’s Isaac at Carnegie Hall in Britten’s Second Canticle. But he always phrased beautifully, and the soaring reaches of the part are within his compass.
Patricia Racette’s Ellen was a warm woman under rigid self-control – trying to persuade Peter to share her generosity of spirit, rounding on the townspeople who persecute him, and stuck up to no one – we would not expect a respectable schoolteacher to be on easy terms with Auntie and her “nieces,” but Ellen is no snob, and Racette gives us a rounded self that this fixed, awkward staging does not permit enough scope.
Among the opera’s many minor but important characters, Teddy Tahu Rhodes, a great tall fellow with a great big baritone, made an auspicious debut as an unusually imposing Ned Keene; Anthony Michaels-Moore was an unusually subdued Captain Balstrode; John Del Carlo a Dickensian Lawyer Swallow; Jill Grove (who should be singing lead roles, as she proved in the Chicago Frau ohne Schatten) a wry Auntie; and Felicity Palmer girlish as mad Mrs. Sedley.
A scene from Britten’s Peter Grimes.
Twenty years ago, Met choristers told the New York Times that Grimes was their favorite opera, since they are not in the background of the plot but are actually the principal antagonist – the creature that destroys Grimes. They certainly sing the piece as if they loved it dearly. (Britten, like any great British composer, writes juicily for chorus. If you got it, flaunt it.) A friend pointed out to me at this performance that the orchestra is silent in most of Grimes’s mad scene – the only sound apart from his monologue is the spooky moan of the mob muttering “Grimes!” in the distance, one of the weirdest effects in all opera, wonderfully evocative of the sea in a fog. “But they’re giving him his pitches!” my friend realized. Britten combined the fog effect with the desired musical result. Now that’s genius.
John Yohalem