Madama Butterfly at Covent Garden

IT’S STRANGE that such a basically fine performance can leave so many question marks, but that is perhaps the peculiarity of Madama Butterfly. Puccini’s shabby little shogun shocker contains some of the composer’s greatest music, yet it is put to such shallow, manipulative ends that anyone who likes their opera to be more than a high-class musical is likely to come away feeling unsatisfied. At least the Royal Opera’s latest revival is musically rewarding, and boasts one of today’s leading interpreters of the title role, but the picture-book production shows little willingness to tackle the problem.

Tosca at the Met

To this day, many sophisticated music lovers dismiss Puccini as a panderer or even a hack. But his supreme craftsmanship is the best refutation of this position. So dedicated was he to creating just the right effect for “Tosca” that he came before dawn one morning to the Castel Sant’Angelo in Rome and faithfully recorded the actual pitches of all of the church bells that can be heard there throughout the early hours, including those of the Basilica of Saint Peter’s.

A Symphony for Hans Christian Andersen

The words of Symphonic Fairytales are not by a musician, but by one of the 19th century’s most extraordinary writers: Hans Christian Andersen. The Danish fairy-tale author’s bicentenary falls on 2 April this year and a worldwide project is under way to celebrate him in music. Ten Danish composers have been commissioned to write pieces based on his stories; as part of this, the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra (CBSO), Chorus and Youth Chorus has achieved quite a coup with a new work from Per Norgard, Denmark’s musical éminence grise, which they will premiere on Andersen’s birthday at Symphony Hall.

Handel’s Ezio at the London Handel Festival

THE curtain rises on Black-adder-land — epicene monarch, black-clad baddie, hooped ladies and preening hero — and you think, hmm, three hours of trying to turn opera seria into comedy could be a bit wearing. Worst fears aren’t entirely realised, but if you don’t trust Handel to hold an audience with a serious exploration of relationship and motivation, why bother?
The London Handel Festival has brought us some notable rarities from among the man’s operas, and this one too has seldom been seen; but if the performance falls short, it’s not because the piece is rubbish.

Peter Grimes in Salzburg

Salzburg zur Osterzeit steht heuer ganz im Zeichen Benjamin Brittens. Nun ist “Peter Grimes”, die Festspiel oper Anno 2005, auch schon 60 Jahre alt, aber von einer Verankerung im internationalen Repertoire kann, wenn überhaupt, erst in allerjüngster Zeit die Rede sein. Jetzt, da das Stück von der Tragödie des Individuums in der Zeit der Vermassung aktueller denn je scheint, setzen es die meisten großen Häuser auf den Spielplan. Zeit also, bei einem Festival ein mustergültige Produktion zu präsentieren, scheint das Kalkül Simon Rattles gewesen zu sein, der damit den Festspielgedanken so unzeitgemäß wie richtig interpretiert. Zumindest in der Theorie. Man muss vielleicht ein bisschen weiter ausholen, um zu definieren, warum eine Inszenierung, wie sie Trevor Nunn im großen Festspielhaus vorgestellt hat, in diesem Fall ein wenig zu kurz greift.

Orpheus Chamber Orchestra Performs Pergolesi and Rossi

As a seasonal concert, with a mildly ecumenical touch, the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra played a concert of sacred music in the Medieval Sculpture Hall at the Metropolitan Museum of Art on Sunday evening (with a repeat tonight). The principal offering was Pergolesi’s dramatic, deeply emotional setting of the Stabat Mater. It was preceded by string arrangements of six pieces by Salamone Rossi, a Jewish composer who worked in Mantua, Italy, around the same time as Monteverdi, and wrote Hebrew Psalm and prayer settings in a lively madrigal style.

Rossini’s Il turco in Italia in Hamburg

“Es werde Lichter”, sprach der Libretto-Dichter und ließ die Buffa-Puppen tanzen. Keine Charakter, sondern Typen, irgendwie geboren im ganz normalen Uraufführungswahnsinn italienischer Opernhäuser im frühen 19. Jahrhundert; fest am Faden hängend und ganz nach Bedarf herumgeschoben von ihren Schöpfern. Dieser Poeta in Gioachino Rossinis “Türke in Italien”, der sich und seine Erfindungsnöte vorlaut zum Thema einer komischen Oper macht, ist ein ziemlich einmaliger Fall. Und deshalb immer öfter ein gefundenen Fressen als Alter Ergo für seine Regisseure.

Götterdämmerung at Chicago Lyric

Lyric Opera has been a tease this season. It’s now offering a preview of the delights that will be available March 28, when the company revisits one of opera’s most daunting challenges, Wagner’s cycle of four interrelated works, “The Ring of the Nibelung,” in three cycles through mid-April.

BACH: Weinen, Klagen — Cantatas BWV 12, 38 & 75

One of the greatest challenges in compiling a recording of J. S. Bach’s cantatas must be choosing which cantatas to group together. For his Harmonia Mundi release, Weinen, Klagen…, Philippe Herreweghe selects three cantatas that represent the human experience of “desolation and comfort.” These two themes are so central to Lutheran theology they could in fact be found in any number of Bach’s cantatas. Nevertheless, the three cantatas on this recording reflect the variety across Bach’s output. “Weinen, Klagen, Sorgen, Zagen” BWV 12, comes from Bach’s period in Weimar, the double cantata, “Die Elend sollen essen” BWV 75, was the first work Bach presented at his new post in Leipzig, and “Aus tiefer Not schrei ich zu dir” BWV 38 is based strictly on the chorale tune throughout the entire work. Despite their differences, all of these works make the theological transition from earthly desolation to eternal comfort.

Les Ours du Scorff at Mino and Other Children Festivals

Sous le nom des Ours du Scorff, un quintette breton spécialisé dans les airs folkloriques destinés aux enfants de 4 ans et plus. En douze ans d’existence, cette formation est devenue une référence de la chanson jeune public, régulièrement invitée par les festivals spécialisés (Mino et, samedi 19 mars, celui de Magny-les-Hameaux, dans les Yvelines). L’explication de cette réussite tient en un mot : tradition. Non comme forme de réaction, mais comme désir de transmission.