After reviewing some rare and lesser known operas, I was ready to scream “Que de bijoux!” when I saw “L’Elisir d’Amore” with Carlo Bergonzi and Roberta Peters when I opened the famous padded envelop sent by La Cieca (brought to my résidence by a hunky postman whom I wished rang more than twice.) What can I say? Thank you Cieca, sulla tua testa vigile la mia benedizion…
The CD of the historic performance who took place on March 5th, 1966 is one of the recent issues of The Metropolitan Opera series, handsomely published by Sony. Besides introducing a young Countess (yours faithfully) who were born not so long ago, to legendary personalities, the series also aim to show us how “things were used to be”, and yes, things were truly different then. Bergonzi shows us alone…
I won’t get much into the story; Boy with self-esteem, intimacy and eventually acne problems loves the overly self-esteemed and slutty girl ignoring him. She keeps bitching during most of the opera. She temporarily falls for a man in uniform and moustache (who doesn’t? Especially if he looks like a Tom of Finland sketch, …and after all, within two minutes of meeting him, she agrees to marry him, a true Kardashian), then realizes the true power of love (viva l’amore!) and buys back the boy from the army he recently joined for money to buy the elixir of love (well, in my opinion he loves men in uniform too, why not leave him alone!) and after a few misunderstanding they all live happily after. It premiered in 1832 and became one of the most popular operas ever since. It’s truly a feel-good opera.
By composing a seamless and beautiful music to Felice Romani’s libretto, Donizetti did not just intend to put together another opera to his endless catalogue. One can only understand this by listening to the legendary Scotto-Bergonzi 1967 Firenze performance, where they show the whole world what Donzietti actually meant. This performance from the Met’s archive des not disappoint, thanks to Bergonzi. 1960s were some of Bergonzi’s best years. He has already established himself as the world’s leading Verdi tenor, nevertheless did magic in belcanto and verismo as well. The unique technique and clear diction are again radiant in this performance. One doesn’t have to know Italian to understand what he sings. The moment he opens his mouth in “Quanto e bella” one understands how useless is to compare today’s tenors to each other. The artist takes is time in the showstopper “Una furtiva lagrima” and makes it a lesson in class and lyricism. The trademark solid technique, always supported by breath is unequalled. Bergonzi was never ever referred to as a stage animal, nor did have the volume or looks of his rivals at the time Del Monaco and Corelli, however is the most Italian of them all, and his acting comes with the voice, and the voice alone. Not a single word is let go by, nor anyone hears a desperate rush to “that” upcoming high note. Consistency is the key!
I’ve never been a big fan of Roberta Peters. She was a sweetheart of the Met audiences for decades. The voice is nice but “quelconque à mon avis” and her exaggeratedly and notoriously open vowels and lack of true pianissimo and Italianità are irritating. “Benedette queste carte” already gives alarming signs of what’s ahead. “Chiedi all’aura lusinghiere” is graciously saved by our Nemorino. She is barely audible in the ensembles. One wished one never heard her rendition of “Prendi per me…” full of unnecessary and unsuccessful fioriture, ending in cat scream. The part of Adina can be a tour de force for the right soprano and personality such as Scotto. Nevertheless, it’s unfortunately mostly used as a comfort zone “role de repos” for most sopranos like Peters, or more recently Cabell, Netrebko, Damrau and the list goes on.
Frank Guarrera, Belcore of the evening makes a premature entrance to his aria (quite a few measures) and considerably off pitch throughout the whole evening. His complete barking in “Tran, tran…” ruins the whole trio. The part is actually a showpiece for any lyric baritone. Alas, it goes wasted.
Fernando Corena, the famous basso of the époque does his work religiously as Dulcamara. He is not at his very best as he sounds tired and sings almost the whole part parlando, barely managing his breath and trying to save the evening with acting (as assumed by the audiences’ reaction.) He partially redeems himself in the “Venti scudi…” duet. A scary picture of his is printed in the CD insert. Loretta di Franco’s Giannina is fine and well controlled.
Met’s chorus, best in the world now and then (IMHO), does a fabulous job, while on the pit Thomas Schippers, our maestro du soir, apparently wishing to be somewhere else, gives a decent but soulless and emotionless conducting, with a great lack of energy (à la Armiliato pour Bolena.) Elisir demands steady, consistently dymanic, fast tempi.
The recording is of fine quality. The CD comes with a track list and synopsis in English only. There should be a law requiring all librettos to be included in each complete opera recording. Moreover, one wishes to see an introduction to the series and about the Met’s legacy. A very brief text posted in the back cover is far from serious. That’s a marketing and brand awareness opportunity missed there. While Met has been busy introducing CDs and DVDs one after another, they should as well adopt a more detail oriented approach to present these unique recordings. The cover features a picture of Peters and Bergonzi, the latter with a very bad eye make-up, not to mention his “regard”. He looks more like yours faithfully watching the legendary duo Vinnie d’Angelo and Arpad Miklos “accommodating” the painter boy in “Tough Stuff.” And I’m going to leave it there!
Overall , a great experience of this crowd pleaser, especially for Bergonzi fans. A Donizetti masterpiece with legendary voices. And a happy ending. Viva l’amore! It all comes to this. As Morrie Schwartz used to say: “Love wins, love always wins…”
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Saturday, August 27, 2011
La Stupenda Lodoiska...
Me- Gran Dio, why is it that La Cieca gives me unknown operas to review? I paid my dues, I threw away all my wire hangers. Perché me ne rimuneri cosi?
God- Shut up and do as she says! She likes you submissive…
Me- But, but I want to review more popular works with celebrity singers, like my Gheorghiu, DiDonato, Tosca, early Verdi, Macbeth (duh!). Or, historic and mesmerizing performances like Arpad Miklos in “Daddy Meat” or Marco Paris in “Pack Attack”?
God- Be grateful to what you have Bitch! She is training you with these works so that one day you’ll upgrade to better known ones. Capish?
Me- Whatever…
God- No eyes rolling, I saw that! At least she gave you Napoleon’s favorite opera this time: La Lodoiska.
Me- La…what?
And the rest is history…
La Lodoiska is a jewel composed by Giovanni (Johannes) Simone Mayr (1763-1845), a contemporary of Mozart and Beethoven. Although he did receive instruction in music at early age, Mayr did not have the chance to systematically study composition until he was in his mid-twenties when he came a pupil of Ferdinando Bertoni, the maestro di cappella of San Marco in Venice. While being confronted with younger fellows like Paer and Nasolini, he nevertheless made his rapid raise to fame as a composer with such works as Sisara and Saffo. His triumphant success came with La Lodoiska at la Scala di Milan, which later became the favorite opera of the above-mentioned emperor.
In spite of these international successes, in 1802 Mayr surprisingly decided against a career as director or conductor of any at the several major opera houses. Instead, he took up the post of maestro di cappella at the Basilica Di Santa Maria Maggiore in Bergamo. Shortly after, Mayr established a music school, which became well renowned and still exists today, its most famous pupil being a certain fellow Gaetano Donizetti. Mayr became practically the standard composer for La Scala and for the then still more famous Teatro San Carlo di Naples.
His buddy Gioacchino Rossini called him the “father of the Iralian opera”, which brings us to Mayr’s style. His is a preliminary introduction to what we call belcanto today, while embedding an elegant German undertone. It is like listening to Beethoven, Haydn and Donizetti and Mozart at the same time.
The central focus of Lodoiska, which is full of turbulence and power politics, is on a couple trying to find each other. Gripping and suspenseful from beginning to end, this tableau is supported throughout by the action of choral and ensemble scenes. On a setting of 17th century Poland in a castle on the border with Tartary, Princess Lodoiska has been entrusted by her father to the care of Boleslao, lord of the Castle of Ostropoll. Boleslao wants to marry Lodoiska, but she is love with Lovinksi and rejects his advances. Lovinski arrives (under the name "Siveno") to ask for Princess Lodoiska on behalf of her father, but Boleslao refuses to let her go. When Lodoiska father, Sigeski, arrives and confronts him, the tyrannical Boleslao imprisons both Sigeski and Lovinski and plans the death of the young lovers. All are saved at the end when they are rescued by Giskano, a Tartar warrior-prince, whose life Lovinski had once saved.
Lodoiska is portrayed by soprano Anna Maria Panzarella whose fragile lyric soprano amazes the whole universe by making all the way through the end, as Lodoiska is pretty much present in all scenes. Nevertheless, she is gifted with a beautiful instrument and shows a considerable effort to sing with emotion. While mezzo soprano Elena Belfiore is far from impressing us, tenor Jeremy Ovenden shows a seamless legato and lyricism as Boleslao, while to me it is hard to figure out why Mayr gave such a part (father) to a tenore leggero. The rest of the cast Elvira Hasangacic (Resiska), Ines Reinhardt (Narseno), Nam Won Huh (Rodoski), Marc Megele (Sigeski) and Marko Cilic (Giskano) read their part nicely. The chorus is somehow dull at the first act, then shows off in the second and redeems itself.
The performance, which appears to be recorded from a concert version is religiously conducted by George Petrou, and the Münchner Rundfundorchester obeys him well. This a 2-CD set by Oehms Classics. As this is often the case with rarely recorded and performed operas, there is no proper track list, and the most pathetic part of it is that, although the opera is in Italian, the full libretto provided is in German.
This is a rare opportunity for those interested in the history of art lyrique, who will be delighted to see what the more famous and endured composers got their inspirations and motivation from. This is a true “référence.”
God- Shut up and do as she says! She likes you submissive…
Me- But, but I want to review more popular works with celebrity singers, like my Gheorghiu, DiDonato, Tosca, early Verdi, Macbeth (duh!). Or, historic and mesmerizing performances like Arpad Miklos in “Daddy Meat” or Marco Paris in “Pack Attack”?
God- Be grateful to what you have Bitch! She is training you with these works so that one day you’ll upgrade to better known ones. Capish?
Me- Whatever…
God- No eyes rolling, I saw that! At least she gave you Napoleon’s favorite opera this time: La Lodoiska.
Me- La…what?
And the rest is history…
La Lodoiska is a jewel composed by Giovanni (Johannes) Simone Mayr (1763-1845), a contemporary of Mozart and Beethoven. Although he did receive instruction in music at early age, Mayr did not have the chance to systematically study composition until he was in his mid-twenties when he came a pupil of Ferdinando Bertoni, the maestro di cappella of San Marco in Venice. While being confronted with younger fellows like Paer and Nasolini, he nevertheless made his rapid raise to fame as a composer with such works as Sisara and Saffo. His triumphant success came with La Lodoiska at la Scala di Milan, which later became the favorite opera of the above-mentioned emperor.
In spite of these international successes, in 1802 Mayr surprisingly decided against a career as director or conductor of any at the several major opera houses. Instead, he took up the post of maestro di cappella at the Basilica Di Santa Maria Maggiore in Bergamo. Shortly after, Mayr established a music school, which became well renowned and still exists today, its most famous pupil being a certain fellow Gaetano Donizetti. Mayr became practically the standard composer for La Scala and for the then still more famous Teatro San Carlo di Naples.
His buddy Gioacchino Rossini called him the “father of the Iralian opera”, which brings us to Mayr’s style. His is a preliminary introduction to what we call belcanto today, while embedding an elegant German undertone. It is like listening to Beethoven, Haydn and Donizetti and Mozart at the same time.
The central focus of Lodoiska, which is full of turbulence and power politics, is on a couple trying to find each other. Gripping and suspenseful from beginning to end, this tableau is supported throughout by the action of choral and ensemble scenes. On a setting of 17th century Poland in a castle on the border with Tartary, Princess Lodoiska has been entrusted by her father to the care of Boleslao, lord of the Castle of Ostropoll. Boleslao wants to marry Lodoiska, but she is love with Lovinksi and rejects his advances. Lovinski arrives (under the name "Siveno") to ask for Princess Lodoiska on behalf of her father, but Boleslao refuses to let her go. When Lodoiska father, Sigeski, arrives and confronts him, the tyrannical Boleslao imprisons both Sigeski and Lovinski and plans the death of the young lovers. All are saved at the end when they are rescued by Giskano, a Tartar warrior-prince, whose life Lovinski had once saved.
Lodoiska is portrayed by soprano Anna Maria Panzarella whose fragile lyric soprano amazes the whole universe by making all the way through the end, as Lodoiska is pretty much present in all scenes. Nevertheless, she is gifted with a beautiful instrument and shows a considerable effort to sing with emotion. While mezzo soprano Elena Belfiore is far from impressing us, tenor Jeremy Ovenden shows a seamless legato and lyricism as Boleslao, while to me it is hard to figure out why Mayr gave such a part (father) to a tenore leggero. The rest of the cast Elvira Hasangacic (Resiska), Ines Reinhardt (Narseno), Nam Won Huh (Rodoski), Marc Megele (Sigeski) and Marko Cilic (Giskano) read their part nicely. The chorus is somehow dull at the first act, then shows off in the second and redeems itself.
The performance, which appears to be recorded from a concert version is religiously conducted by George Petrou, and the Münchner Rundfundorchester obeys him well. This a 2-CD set by Oehms Classics. As this is often the case with rarely recorded and performed operas, there is no proper track list, and the most pathetic part of it is that, although the opera is in Italian, the full libretto provided is in German.
This is a rare opportunity for those interested in the history of art lyrique, who will be delighted to see what the more famous and endured composers got their inspirations and motivation from. This is a true “référence.”
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Il Bel Sogno di Martina...
It is a known fact that in summer, I only attend events in my hometown Nice, Antibes, St. Paul de Vence and Milan. However, when our coquine doyenne begged on her knees (à la Gencer in Alceste), I accepted to review Martina Arroyo Foundation’s production of Puccini’s “La Rondine.” A one month [short] notice was not enough to get ready for the young Countess with trademark long auburn hair (yours faithfully) nevertheless I put together a vintage crème Valentino ensemble with high heel Chanel slippers, loosely wrapped my hair with a faux diamond hair clip (from eBay) and took the limo (a.k.a. #6 train) to Kaye Playhouse in Hunter College… And I’m so glad I did.
La Arroyo needs no introduction. Delightfully funny, elegantly skilled and blessed with a stupendous voice, she is a living legend. She was in the audience in high spirit as always. The mission of The Martina Arroyo Foundation is to prepare and counsel young singers in the interpretation of complete operatic roles for public performance. The Foundation guides each singer in the preparation of an entire operatic role through a formal educational process that includes the background of the drama, the historical perspective, the psychological motivation of each character, and language proficiency. Besides La Rondine this year, the foundation also produced a fine Don Giovanni.
La Rondine’s backcloth is Paris where Magda (the swallow of the opera's title, because she will fly south to find happiness) is the mistress of the banker Rambaldo. When she meets the young innocent Ruggero, she falls in love. The couple set up house in Nice, but Magda soon realizes that, in the world's eyes, her past makes her unworthy of Ruggero's love. Where the realization might drive another Puccini heroine to suicide, Magda simply walks out of his life.
La Rondine is a one woman show. Even the tenor does not have a full aria. The cast I saw on Sunday July 17th was lead by exquisite soprano Clara Heikyung Yu. As the rest of the cast she started very nervous with an over-calculated “Chi il bel sogno di Doretta.” I don’t blame her since Puccini does not give a warm-up for his soprano. As the opera progressed, Yu gave the best singing of the day, especially on the grand ensemble of Act II at bullier and a full commitment/full throttle Act III. I love my Puccini women spinto. Yu’s voice sits a little too high for this part but still, she gave a mesmerizing performance and got the biggest applause.
As Ruggero, lyric tenor Young Chul Park matched his soprano to a tee. Gorgeous tenor voice, a hesitating start, fully opened by the last act. I just named him Carreras Jr. for the simple fact that he was almost incapable of opening his mouth without looking at the maestro. Both lead singers should make a tremendous effort in their acting skills. I tend to assume their workshop was mainly on the singing and acting was second priority. Moreover, the over-calculation or over-thinking is unfortunately a new standard in young singers. They save the voice for a better day (which may never come.)
In secondary parts, the baritenor Jonathan Morales as Prunier impressed the audience with his acting and unique voice, while coloratura soprano Katelyn Parker inhabited her part as Lisette. Our Rambaldo was Andre Courville who has such a huge bass instrument one only wishes to be matched by acting. A special mention goes to Jasmine Thomas who, with a very cmall part impressed me with the clarity of her tone as Gabriele.
The chorus gives a satisfying job, while maestro Nicholas Fox, comparable to Yannick Nezet-Seguin, pulls a truly outstanding and energetic performance from his superb orchestra. Honestly, they exceeded my expectation. Production, directed by Joseph Bascetta offered minimal but sufficient period decors and costumes, not to mention BYOS (bring your own shoes, some of them very amazingly modern.)
La Rondine is considered by many as “light” Puccini comedy, a “comédie de salon” alas there is a continuous smoky melancholy underlining the romanticism. While “Chi il bel sogno di Doretta” may be the show stopper, the whole opera is a delight, a vocal symphony. This is a piece that, without proper direction can be easily fall to the level of a bad sitcom episode. Nevertheless, Martina Arroyo Foundation’s production under their “Prelude to Performance” program does the opposite and truly shines.
La Arroyo needs no introduction. Delightfully funny, elegantly skilled and blessed with a stupendous voice, she is a living legend. She was in the audience in high spirit as always. The mission of The Martina Arroyo Foundation is to prepare and counsel young singers in the interpretation of complete operatic roles for public performance. The Foundation guides each singer in the preparation of an entire operatic role through a formal educational process that includes the background of the drama, the historical perspective, the psychological motivation of each character, and language proficiency. Besides La Rondine this year, the foundation also produced a fine Don Giovanni.
La Rondine’s backcloth is Paris where Magda (the swallow of the opera's title, because she will fly south to find happiness) is the mistress of the banker Rambaldo. When she meets the young innocent Ruggero, she falls in love. The couple set up house in Nice, but Magda soon realizes that, in the world's eyes, her past makes her unworthy of Ruggero's love. Where the realization might drive another Puccini heroine to suicide, Magda simply walks out of his life.
La Rondine is a one woman show. Even the tenor does not have a full aria. The cast I saw on Sunday July 17th was lead by exquisite soprano Clara Heikyung Yu. As the rest of the cast she started very nervous with an over-calculated “Chi il bel sogno di Doretta.” I don’t blame her since Puccini does not give a warm-up for his soprano. As the opera progressed, Yu gave the best singing of the day, especially on the grand ensemble of Act II at bullier and a full commitment/full throttle Act III. I love my Puccini women spinto. Yu’s voice sits a little too high for this part but still, she gave a mesmerizing performance and got the biggest applause.
As Ruggero, lyric tenor Young Chul Park matched his soprano to a tee. Gorgeous tenor voice, a hesitating start, fully opened by the last act. I just named him Carreras Jr. for the simple fact that he was almost incapable of opening his mouth without looking at the maestro. Both lead singers should make a tremendous effort in their acting skills. I tend to assume their workshop was mainly on the singing and acting was second priority. Moreover, the over-calculation or over-thinking is unfortunately a new standard in young singers. They save the voice for a better day (which may never come.)
In secondary parts, the baritenor Jonathan Morales as Prunier impressed the audience with his acting and unique voice, while coloratura soprano Katelyn Parker inhabited her part as Lisette. Our Rambaldo was Andre Courville who has such a huge bass instrument one only wishes to be matched by acting. A special mention goes to Jasmine Thomas who, with a very cmall part impressed me with the clarity of her tone as Gabriele.
The chorus gives a satisfying job, while maestro Nicholas Fox, comparable to Yannick Nezet-Seguin, pulls a truly outstanding and energetic performance from his superb orchestra. Honestly, they exceeded my expectation. Production, directed by Joseph Bascetta offered minimal but sufficient period decors and costumes, not to mention BYOS (bring your own shoes, some of them very amazingly modern.)
La Rondine is considered by many as “light” Puccini comedy, a “comédie de salon” alas there is a continuous smoky melancholy underlining the romanticism. While “Chi il bel sogno di Doretta” may be the show stopper, the whole opera is a delight, a vocal symphony. This is a piece that, without proper direction can be easily fall to the level of a bad sitcom episode. Nevertheless, Martina Arroyo Foundation’s production under their “Prelude to Performance” program does the opposite and truly shines.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Rigoletto not Rigolo...(or, Portrait of an Artist: Zeljko Lucic)
I’m not sure if Marcel Proust was alive he would write a book called “A la recherche du baryton Verdien”, alas, after seeing Rigoletto at the Met last Friday, I once again confirmed that the one more beautiful thing than my trademark long auburn hair and Biki wardrobe is Zeljko Lucic.
The existence of a true Verdi baritone has been discussed (and still) in many different platforms. Most agree that they do not exist anymore, and the tradition ended with such distinguished materials like Gobbi, Merrill, Warren, Milnes, Cappuccilli and Nucci, (the latter who is still active and fabulous.)
Lucic has the biggest advantage of being blessed with a burnished, dark and round, voluptuous and most importantly “manly” material. These are basics for any Verdi baritone part. But more than that, Lucic already understands that these basics should be used to channel each Verdian part differently, yet all sitting on a solid infrastructure (voice and technique) and superstructure (art and soul.) This is the main reason his portrayal of Macbeth few years ago, (although an underrated performance by the critics, to my opinion the best in the last few decades,) is way different than his Rigoletto. In Macbeth, his “Pieta, rispetto, amore…” becomes a self-reflection, a look at the mirror, a thought…as it should be, and not a show-off manifesto. Macbeth is first a human being and then the sum of his crimes and actions.
Rigoletto, often considered the pinnacle of all baritone repertoire is a true bitch demanding a continuous stamina, use of all three registers, and perhaps most importantly the “acting.” As In Macbeth, as a singing actor, Lucic’s portrayal was powerfully human and natural. As Rigoletto, even though the director seems to have left him to himself, the baritone came up in an original way, portraying the buffone as a “man”, a man who believes in his destiny, who, even at the very first notes of his entrance, knows what is going to happen, then confessing how his wife married him out of compassion…but he is never looking for pity, nor confirmation. At that point of view, he is not connected to the audience. He is singing to himself as if he has to convince himself that this is his faith and how things should be. During Act III where he finally lets go in “…piango” he actually gives up on life and everything he ever had. We never see him actually cry, or pretend to, but rather expressing a true emotion and the last of his hopes. His “vendetta” started as piano, as it should be, a promise of vengeance to himself. He sometimes prefers to use diminuendo instead of constant pianissimi. During the entire course of the opera, we do not see Lucic laugh or cry. Nothing is brought to an exaggeration level. At the end, his Rigoletto is a slap to our face, a real picture of the society’s underdog and his brutal loneliness is all that stays, and is all that matters/
Lucic’s use of his own material (voice, body, and acting) is spectacular. His almost inaudible voice back in Il Trittico, filled the Met with ease, never at once losing control, legato, always giving his best in the almost endless Verdian lines. His is not a huge sound à la McNeil, but the humanity and the natural manliness dans sa peau resulted in a mesmerizing, unforgettable performance that will be hardly paralleled.
The existence of a true Verdi baritone has been discussed (and still) in many different platforms. Most agree that they do not exist anymore, and the tradition ended with such distinguished materials like Gobbi, Merrill, Warren, Milnes, Cappuccilli and Nucci, (the latter who is still active and fabulous.)
Lucic has the biggest advantage of being blessed with a burnished, dark and round, voluptuous and most importantly “manly” material. These are basics for any Verdi baritone part. But more than that, Lucic already understands that these basics should be used to channel each Verdian part differently, yet all sitting on a solid infrastructure (voice and technique) and superstructure (art and soul.) This is the main reason his portrayal of Macbeth few years ago, (although an underrated performance by the critics, to my opinion the best in the last few decades,) is way different than his Rigoletto. In Macbeth, his “Pieta, rispetto, amore…” becomes a self-reflection, a look at the mirror, a thought…as it should be, and not a show-off manifesto. Macbeth is first a human being and then the sum of his crimes and actions.
Rigoletto, often considered the pinnacle of all baritone repertoire is a true bitch demanding a continuous stamina, use of all three registers, and perhaps most importantly the “acting.” As In Macbeth, as a singing actor, Lucic’s portrayal was powerfully human and natural. As Rigoletto, even though the director seems to have left him to himself, the baritone came up in an original way, portraying the buffone as a “man”, a man who believes in his destiny, who, even at the very first notes of his entrance, knows what is going to happen, then confessing how his wife married him out of compassion…but he is never looking for pity, nor confirmation. At that point of view, he is not connected to the audience. He is singing to himself as if he has to convince himself that this is his faith and how things should be. During Act III where he finally lets go in “…piango” he actually gives up on life and everything he ever had. We never see him actually cry, or pretend to, but rather expressing a true emotion and the last of his hopes. His “vendetta” started as piano, as it should be, a promise of vengeance to himself. He sometimes prefers to use diminuendo instead of constant pianissimi. During the entire course of the opera, we do not see Lucic laugh or cry. Nothing is brought to an exaggeration level. At the end, his Rigoletto is a slap to our face, a real picture of the society’s underdog and his brutal loneliness is all that stays, and is all that matters/
Lucic’s use of his own material (voice, body, and acting) is spectacular. His almost inaudible voice back in Il Trittico, filled the Met with ease, never at once losing control, legato, always giving his best in the almost endless Verdian lines. His is not a huge sound à la McNeil, but the humanity and the natural manliness dans sa peau resulted in a mesmerizing, unforgettable performance that will be hardly paralleled.
Monday, May 2, 2011
Be careful what you wish for...
(written for Parterre.com)
When our coquine Doyenne invited those interested to review recordings I kindly requested Italian belcanto and early French works. Instead, I got Schubert’s “Alfonso und Estrella” (ahem, in German!), thus the title of this review… It was one of those WTF moments, and I thought La C. was in a PMS attack. The only few words I know in German is “Ich komme Helga!” (pre-condom era porn line), “Ich liebe sexy Marcello Giordani”, and “What on earth Aprilo Millo is saving her voice for?” (the latter is not in German, but I had to get it off my chest.) Anyway, I couldn’t disappoint La C., therefore I decided to take the challenge, pulled my long wavy auburn hair back, put my Biki crepe de soie robe de chambre, un peu plus de noir sur mes yeux (à la Dalida,) and put myself to work.
The production comes from Theater an der Wien, filmed during performances in May of 1997, as part of the celebrations for Schubert’s 200th anniversary. Many may not know that Schubert wrote any opera at all. My researches showed me that he attempted at least ten operas and this was the first one that actually got finished, in collaboration with the librettist Franz von Schober who was always faithful to him ( I smell kind of Cary Grant-Randolph Scott thing there,) following an invitation by Domenico Barbaia, then the newly appointed Italian manager of the theater. The fact that it was first rejected may be partly due to an unenthusiastic Michael Vogl (for whom the part of Froila was conceived), soprano Anna Milder-Hauptmann, and Weber who kept bitching about it. In 1854, long after Schubert’s death, an adapted version was given its premiere in Weimar by Franz Liszt for whom Schober acted as secretary.
The storyline is simple: The setting is eighth century Spain. Alfonso lives with his father Froila, the rightful king of Leon whose throne is usurped by Mauregato (he is mean, so mean you have no idea, a real cattivo.) Estrella is the latter’s daughter, she and Alfonso make out big time, I mean fall in love. A horny Adolfo, rejected by Estrella leads a rebellion (it was certainly easy to do this type of show-offs at those times,) but is captured by Alfonso. All ends happily.
The cast is quite decent. Luba Orgonasova as Estrella gives an outstanding performance. Schubert was most generous to her part in his work. Lubika is blessed with a gorgeous and voluptuous instrument. The Slovak soprano is mainly known to European audiences, especially for her Mozart interpretations. She looks à la Sutherland sometimes.
The part of Alfonso is sung by Endrik Wottrich, the only disappointment of this production. Such a sublime part could only be sung this bad. One wishes a spinto lirico tenor in this part with a great deal of lied experience to do justice to it. At one point in the beginning of Scene II, he says to his father “I lack the strength of voice.” He is damn right.
The part of Adolfo is a very demanding one, sitting mainly on the top register. Blessed with a strong bass, Alfred Muff disappoints with his complete acting disability, one of those who constantly need to look at the conductor.
On the other hand, Olaf Bar, as Mauregato exhibits all his successful lieder background. The projection is effortless, smooth and legato, although the voice is small in size.
As Froila, Thomas Hampson sings beautifully but never in the persona, as is always the case. My prayers to hopefully see him one day change his constant facial expression remain unanswered (once described here as the “look Ma, I can sing” look.) His pronunciation is exquisite and his interpretation is exemplary. Since I don’t have a score in hand, I’m not sure if the high pianissimi are as written or his choice to cover his natural strain on his top register. Nevertheless, Hampson has always been a true musician and the production is clearly standing on him. He eventually gets the warmest reception from the audience.
Our maestro for the occasion is Nikolaus Harnancourt. Nikky does a decent job, especially during the beautiful overture. This is not a very hard piece to conduct, since the music is not complex in the “grand opera” tradition. His orchestra responds well to him. They obviously prepared well for this.
The production is dark, simple and monochrome. The set is modern; it doesn’t belong to any country or specific era. The first scene is Froila’s bedroom that looks like a cell; Scene II is a war field with a huge glacial curtain and women soldiers all in red uniforms and machine guns. Scene III is almost completely dark and we only see shadows singing, with minimum light. Overall speaking, I did not come across any other production of this opera, therefore it is hard to compare the approach of director Jürgen Flimm or the singing. After establishing himself as one of the exponents of Regietheater, Flimm was called to manage renowned theaters and festivals in Europe. In summer 2000, he staged a new version of Wagner's Ring for the Bayreuth Festival, and in June 2002, he was responsible for the scenic realisation of the world premiere of Der Riese vom Steinfeld by Friedrich Cerha at the Vienna State Opera.
The image quality is absolutely fine. The cameras are having an easy time since the production is quite static, with main soloists basically standing still facing the audience and performing. Subtitles are exclusive to solos, which makes it hard to understand what is going on during the duets, ensembles and choral parts.
The opera is obviously an experimentation for this greatest lied composer. The reasons he did not pursue composing in this field are unknown to me. The composition is balanced, priority is give to voice and the orchestra is only a background accompaniment serving it. The solos may not be qualified quite as arias, but a series of gorgeous lieder, almost like a song cycle. At the end, the music is an absolute beauty and one wonders why it hasn’t been performed more frequently. As I always defend, this and many other hidden pieces of art may well be performed concert or semi-staged style.
In a world where we get to watch the same core repertoire (and productions) over and over, discovering a new little night music like this was a true marvel to me, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Be Careful w
When our coquine Doyenne invited those interested to review recordings I kindly requested Italian belcanto and early French works. Instead, I got Schubert’s “Alfonso und Estrella” (ahem, in German!), thus the title of this review… It was one of those WTF moments, and I thought La C. was in a PMS attack. The only few words I know in German is “Ich komme Helga!” (pre-condom era porn line), “Ich liebe sexy Marcello Giordani”, and “What on earth Aprilo Millo is saving her voice for?” (the latter is not in German, but I had to get it off my chest.) Anyway, I couldn’t disappoint La C., therefore I decided to take the challenge, pulled my long wavy auburn hair back, put my Biki crepe de soie robe de chambre, un peu plus de noir sur mes yeux (à la Dalida,) and put myself to work.
The production comes from Theater an der Wien, filmed during performances in May of 1997, as part of the celebrations for Schubert’s 200th anniversary. Many may not know that Schubert wrote any opera at all. My researches showed me that he attempted at least ten operas and this was the first one that actually got finished, in collaboration with the librettist Franz von Schober who was always faithful to him ( I smell kind of Cary Grant-Randolph Scott thing there,) following an invitation by Domenico Barbaia, then the newly appointed Italian manager of the theater. The fact that it was first rejected may be partly due to an unenthusiastic Michael Vogl (for whom the part of Froila was conceived), soprano Anna Milder-Hauptmann, and Weber who kept bitching about it. In 1854, long after Schubert’s death, an adapted version was given its premiere in Weimar by Franz Liszt for whom Schober acted as secretary.
The storyline is simple: The setting is eighth century Spain. Alfonso lives with his father Froila, the rightful king of Leon whose throne is usurped by Mauregato (he is mean, so mean you have no idea, a real cattivo.) Estrella is the latter’s daughter, she and Alfonso make out big time, I mean fall in love. A horny Adolfo, rejected by Estrella leads a rebellion (it was certainly easy to do this type of show-offs at those times,) but is captured by Alfonso. All ends happily.
The cast is quite decent. Luba Orgonasova as Estrella gives an outstanding performance. Schubert was most generous to her part in his work. Lubika is blessed with a gorgeous and voluptuous instrument. The Slovak soprano is mainly known to European audiences, especially for her Mozart interpretations. She looks à la Sutherland sometimes.
The part of Alfonso is sung by Endrik Wottrich, the only disappointment of this production. Such a sublime part could only be sung this bad. One wishes a spinto lirico tenor in this part with a great deal of lied experience to do justice to it. At one point in the beginning of Scene II, he says to his father “I lack the strength of voice.” He is damn right.
The part of Adolfo is a very demanding one, sitting mainly on the top register. Blessed with a strong bass, Alfred Muff disappoints with his complete acting disability, one of those who constantly need to look at the conductor.
On the other hand, Olaf Bar, as Mauregato exhibits all his successful lieder background. The projection is effortless, smooth and legato, although the voice is small in size.
As Froila, Thomas Hampson sings beautifully but never in the persona, as is always the case. My prayers to hopefully see him one day change his constant facial expression remain unanswered (once described here as the “look Ma, I can sing” look.) His pronunciation is exquisite and his interpretation is exemplary. Since I don’t have a score in hand, I’m not sure if the high pianissimi are as written or his choice to cover his natural strain on his top register. Nevertheless, Hampson has always been a true musician and the production is clearly standing on him. He eventually gets the warmest reception from the audience.
Our maestro for the occasion is Nikolaus Harnancourt. Nikky does a decent job, especially during the beautiful overture. This is not a very hard piece to conduct, since the music is not complex in the “grand opera” tradition. His orchestra responds well to him. They obviously prepared well for this.
The production is dark, simple and monochrome. The set is modern; it doesn’t belong to any country or specific era. The first scene is Froila’s bedroom that looks like a cell; Scene II is a war field with a huge glacial curtain and women soldiers all in red uniforms and machine guns. Scene III is almost completely dark and we only see shadows singing, with minimum light. Overall speaking, I did not come across any other production of this opera, therefore it is hard to compare the approach of director Jürgen Flimm or the singing. After establishing himself as one of the exponents of Regietheater, Flimm was called to manage renowned theaters and festivals in Europe. In summer 2000, he staged a new version of Wagner's Ring for the Bayreuth Festival, and in June 2002, he was responsible for the scenic realisation of the world premiere of Der Riese vom Steinfeld by Friedrich Cerha at the Vienna State Opera.
The image quality is absolutely fine. The cameras are having an easy time since the production is quite static, with main soloists basically standing still facing the audience and performing. Subtitles are exclusive to solos, which makes it hard to understand what is going on during the duets, ensembles and choral parts.
The opera is obviously an experimentation for this greatest lied composer. The reasons he did not pursue composing in this field are unknown to me. The composition is balanced, priority is give to voice and the orchestra is only a background accompaniment serving it. The solos may not be qualified quite as arias, but a series of gorgeous lieder, almost like a song cycle. At the end, the music is an absolute beauty and one wonders why it hasn’t been performed more frequently. As I always defend, this and many other hidden pieces of art may well be performed concert or semi-staged style.
In a world where we get to watch the same core repertoire (and productions) over and over, discovering a new little night music like this was a true marvel to me, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Be Careful w
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Toi, qui sous le neant...
Don Carlo is truly a grand opera, Verdi’s biggest, no matter if it’s the four or five act version. It is a bitch.
For the occasion, I’m wearing my black Chanel ensemble (un cadeau d’un de mes ex-amants), Charles Jourdan stilettos (own money), and Mikimotos (heritees de ma mere la Comtesse) under delicately coiffed auburn hair, not to mention a sadistic combination of two Jo Malone parfums. I take a glance at the most expensive opera gift shop in the world (while hearing the hopeless cry of the former one’s ghost [Commendatore, is that you?], who used to be a great place to find a huge variety of recordings, but now, alas, a t-shirt and $200-a-bottle perfume marketplace.
I’m full of hope tonight. I came to the Met to really appreciate this performance. I promised myself to be positive, happy and gay. I will not think of the productions I loved, or compare this one to the dream cast I always had in my mind (Bergonzi, Gencer, Nicolai, Christoff, Battistini.) I am docile tonight.
My trademark family circle seat is made ready for me, and for an evening of 4 hours and 45 minutes. I told you it is a bitch. Yannick Nézet-Séguin literally runs to the podium, salutes me, then my subjects and the magic begins. And yes, he is yummy.
Verdi composed Don Carlos to a French libretto by Camille du Locle and Joseph Méry, based on the dramatic play Don Carlos, Infant von Spanien (”Don Carlos, Infante of Spain“) by Friedrich Schiller. It was premiered in Paris, Opéra, March 11, 1867. The composer reworked the score of Don Carlo in 1883, condensing five acts into four to a libretto reworked by Ghislanzoni.
The setting is in Spain around 1560. It is a story of love lost and love unrequited. Don Carlos and Elisabeth are set to be married when Filippo, Don Carlo’s father, decides to take her himself. Elisabeth cannot refuse the request and for to do so would mean continuing the horrible war her country is involved in with Spain. Don Carlos refuses to give up his love of her. Filippo realizes this and tries to enlist the help of Rodrigo in keeping tabs on Carlos and his new wife. Princess Eboli is also in love with Don Carlos who has no interest in her. She plots to turn Don Carlos’ indifference to love. In the background, the Spanish Inquisition is occurring with all the struggles between Church and State.
Don Carlo requires five solid voce Verdiane. One cannot have a good performance of this opera with a very good Filippo and a passable Rodrigo or a mediocre Elisabetta. They all must stand out and, even though they are different characters, they have to complement each other, thus forming the ensemble, the “concrete” basis on which the music builds. Verdi was generous to each of them. It is filled with signature arias and duets. To quote from the Playbill, the characters “never give up,” no matter what happens. They know what is coming up, yet their struggle remain, sometimes as a direct expression, but mostly self-reflection.
I promised myself after tonight’s performance that I will not call Roberto Alagna “the smurf” again. This was the first time I truly was able to enjoy the real Alagna. He was a marvel in the title role from the first note to the last. I only wonder what he could do in the original French version, since he has the best French diction since Kraus. The voice sounded rounder and bigger, and most importantly effortless and with easy projection. He was exceptional in the second duet with Elisabetta (a.k.a. “call me Liz, no no, call me mom” duet.) He really surpassed my expectations and got the biggest applause.
As Elisabetta de Valois, Marina Poplavskaya was another highlight. She has a stunning elegance and beauty that is so “Elisabetta.” From her youthful looks in the Fontainebleau scene to the mature queen, she owned it. Her “Tu che le vanita” started with an intention to slightly cover the voice, but ended powerfully with such adorable pianissimo. We all miss singers like her who can truly sing pianissimo with support. On the other hand, the voice could use more Italianità and articulation, but there is no doubt those will come in time. She is still young and sings parts appropriate to her material. I’m now looking forward to her Violetta.
Ferruccio Furlanetto is “Philippe-du-Jour” for a reason. First of all, his voice sounds better and clearer than any CD or DVD recording I saw. The authority is there, yet his portrayal of Filippo differs from other famous Filippos. During “Ella giammai m’amo” and the duet with the Gran Inquisitore there are essential moments where one witnesses Filippo as an individu. This Filippo already knew his wife will not love him, even before he met her. His two previous wives did not either. His struggle is not only with la forza del destino (like all other characters) but also with himself. He is human.
Simon Keenlyside used to be a very “present” singing actor. Tonight he was somewhere else, for sure. He was so not in the mood that the only thing he did was to sing the whole score forte. Even when he was dying, he was full throttle. I simply wanted to go on stage slap him and give hima copy of Gobbi’s Rodrigo under Santini, and make him read what Gobbi wrote in his book My Life about his approach to Rodrigo’s dying.
Anna Smirnova is a force de nature. Alas, her Eboli was technically insecure, and in the case of “O don fatale” pretty embarrassing, nevertheless she managed to save the last few measures better than she did in the premiere. She has a huge sound yet she needs to sing less heavy roles before attempting a role of such grandeur.
Eric Halfvarson excelled in the big scene with Filippo. He has a very extensive and voluminous voice, which made the duet my favorite scene in all the performance.
The production is simple yet powerful. A co-production of the Metropolitan Opera, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, and the Norwegian National Opera & Ballet, it is directed by Nicholas Hytner and opened first in London. Don Carlo is special. It is not just about a protagonist but six of them. There is so many powerful personalities that one does not look for a rich Zeffirelli-type production. Period costumes in contrast with bold and simplistic decors become stupendous thanks to the pinpointed lighting by Mark Henderson.
Let’s come to my confusion about the libretto: I always had different thoughts about Rodrigo and Carlo. Can anybody deny the sexual tension between them? Come on, confess it. Read between the lines. Even when he dies, all his words are full of love and affection, and that is beyond “loyalty” and Flanders. And in this production, they hug each other pretty much the whole time.
Finally, if I were Peter Gelb, I would put this production in the original French version. That would have a huge impact on all audiences and critics. In any case, this is a must-see of the season. Don’t miss it. Take the train to Fontainebleau.
For the occasion, I’m wearing my black Chanel ensemble (un cadeau d’un de mes ex-amants), Charles Jourdan stilettos (own money), and Mikimotos (heritees de ma mere la Comtesse) under delicately coiffed auburn hair, not to mention a sadistic combination of two Jo Malone parfums. I take a glance at the most expensive opera gift shop in the world (while hearing the hopeless cry of the former one’s ghost [Commendatore, is that you?], who used to be a great place to find a huge variety of recordings, but now, alas, a t-shirt and $200-a-bottle perfume marketplace.
I’m full of hope tonight. I came to the Met to really appreciate this performance. I promised myself to be positive, happy and gay. I will not think of the productions I loved, or compare this one to the dream cast I always had in my mind (Bergonzi, Gencer, Nicolai, Christoff, Battistini.) I am docile tonight.
My trademark family circle seat is made ready for me, and for an evening of 4 hours and 45 minutes. I told you it is a bitch. Yannick Nézet-Séguin literally runs to the podium, salutes me, then my subjects and the magic begins. And yes, he is yummy.
Verdi composed Don Carlos to a French libretto by Camille du Locle and Joseph Méry, based on the dramatic play Don Carlos, Infant von Spanien (”Don Carlos, Infante of Spain“) by Friedrich Schiller. It was premiered in Paris, Opéra, March 11, 1867. The composer reworked the score of Don Carlo in 1883, condensing five acts into four to a libretto reworked by Ghislanzoni.
The setting is in Spain around 1560. It is a story of love lost and love unrequited. Don Carlos and Elisabeth are set to be married when Filippo, Don Carlo’s father, decides to take her himself. Elisabeth cannot refuse the request and for to do so would mean continuing the horrible war her country is involved in with Spain. Don Carlos refuses to give up his love of her. Filippo realizes this and tries to enlist the help of Rodrigo in keeping tabs on Carlos and his new wife. Princess Eboli is also in love with Don Carlos who has no interest in her. She plots to turn Don Carlos’ indifference to love. In the background, the Spanish Inquisition is occurring with all the struggles between Church and State.
Don Carlo requires five solid voce Verdiane. One cannot have a good performance of this opera with a very good Filippo and a passable Rodrigo or a mediocre Elisabetta. They all must stand out and, even though they are different characters, they have to complement each other, thus forming the ensemble, the “concrete” basis on which the music builds. Verdi was generous to each of them. It is filled with signature arias and duets. To quote from the Playbill, the characters “never give up,” no matter what happens. They know what is coming up, yet their struggle remain, sometimes as a direct expression, but mostly self-reflection.
I promised myself after tonight’s performance that I will not call Roberto Alagna “the smurf” again. This was the first time I truly was able to enjoy the real Alagna. He was a marvel in the title role from the first note to the last. I only wonder what he could do in the original French version, since he has the best French diction since Kraus. The voice sounded rounder and bigger, and most importantly effortless and with easy projection. He was exceptional in the second duet with Elisabetta (a.k.a. “call me Liz, no no, call me mom” duet.) He really surpassed my expectations and got the biggest applause.
As Elisabetta de Valois, Marina Poplavskaya was another highlight. She has a stunning elegance and beauty that is so “Elisabetta.” From her youthful looks in the Fontainebleau scene to the mature queen, she owned it. Her “Tu che le vanita” started with an intention to slightly cover the voice, but ended powerfully with such adorable pianissimo. We all miss singers like her who can truly sing pianissimo with support. On the other hand, the voice could use more Italianità and articulation, but there is no doubt those will come in time. She is still young and sings parts appropriate to her material. I’m now looking forward to her Violetta.
Ferruccio Furlanetto is “Philippe-du-Jour” for a reason. First of all, his voice sounds better and clearer than any CD or DVD recording I saw. The authority is there, yet his portrayal of Filippo differs from other famous Filippos. During “Ella giammai m’amo” and the duet with the Gran Inquisitore there are essential moments where one witnesses Filippo as an individu. This Filippo already knew his wife will not love him, even before he met her. His two previous wives did not either. His struggle is not only with la forza del destino (like all other characters) but also with himself. He is human.
Simon Keenlyside used to be a very “present” singing actor. Tonight he was somewhere else, for sure. He was so not in the mood that the only thing he did was to sing the whole score forte. Even when he was dying, he was full throttle. I simply wanted to go on stage slap him and give hima copy of Gobbi’s Rodrigo under Santini, and make him read what Gobbi wrote in his book My Life about his approach to Rodrigo’s dying.
Anna Smirnova is a force de nature. Alas, her Eboli was technically insecure, and in the case of “O don fatale” pretty embarrassing, nevertheless she managed to save the last few measures better than she did in the premiere. She has a huge sound yet she needs to sing less heavy roles before attempting a role of such grandeur.
Eric Halfvarson excelled in the big scene with Filippo. He has a very extensive and voluminous voice, which made the duet my favorite scene in all the performance.
The production is simple yet powerful. A co-production of the Metropolitan Opera, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, and the Norwegian National Opera & Ballet, it is directed by Nicholas Hytner and opened first in London. Don Carlo is special. It is not just about a protagonist but six of them. There is so many powerful personalities that one does not look for a rich Zeffirelli-type production. Period costumes in contrast with bold and simplistic decors become stupendous thanks to the pinpointed lighting by Mark Henderson.
Let’s come to my confusion about the libretto: I always had different thoughts about Rodrigo and Carlo. Can anybody deny the sexual tension between them? Come on, confess it. Read between the lines. Even when he dies, all his words are full of love and affection, and that is beyond “loyalty” and Flanders. And in this production, they hug each other pretty much the whole time.
Finally, if I were Peter Gelb, I would put this production in the original French version. That would have a huge impact on all audiences and critics. In any case, this is a must-see of the season. Don’t miss it. Take the train to Fontainebleau.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
La morale in tutto questo?
Don Pasquale is one of those operas that make listeners feel very happy and gay, who, after seeing it, live happily ever after and gayer than before. It’s about a whore who needs to get laid, with an eye on the young (once and still bottom) hunk versus the older (once top, yes you guessed right) but rich dude. And there is some Versatile Malatesta (that’s his rentboy.com username too) in between. Literally speaking, there is no storyline at all. As spectateurs we just watch unimportant events happening while keeping a stupid smile on our faces.
I was barely seated in my trademark family circle coin sacre, making sure my new stilettos (with a carefully arranged glimpse) combinees avec mon mink and matching turban covering my auburn hair are noticed by the whole audience (a.k.a. my subjects) when Jimmy showed us his long and hard baton.
The minute I saw James Levine I knew something was wrong. On his way to the pit, he could barely walk, even with his cane. The first and second act the orchestra kind of conducted themselves and no wonder, after a 45 minute intermission, it was announced that the maestro was sick and the remainder of the performance will be conducted by some other James (nobody was able to catch his name, even the handsome gay couple sitting by my side who made me feel as their Norina.) [Joseph Colaneri] did a finer job than Jimmy Boy.
Thank you for reading until now. The remainder of the review will be a more serious one.
Don Pasquale is a belcanto “standard” written by one of the most productive opera composers in the history of opera. This, the 64th of Donizetti’s known 66 operas, was first performed in 1843 at the Comedie-Italienne in Paris.
Anna Netrebko herself admits it is time to convert from girls to queens in her latest interview with Opera News. She is right. The woman has a gorgeous tone, yet the voice is heavy for the part. As per my voice teacher Ira Siff, she should be singing Manon Lescaut. He is right. Yet it’s with always great pleasure one watches and appreciates performers like her who truly have the time of their life on the stage, purely enjoying what they’re doing and radiating all along. Those who haven’t heard her live after the baby: It’s true, Anna’s voice got surprisingly bigger, especially in the middle. Above the staff she was still cautious and covering, perhaps saving it for the next Saturday matinee.
Matthew Polenzani is a very fine musician, who (still) keeps amazing me with his unparalleled pianissimi and heartfelt legato. Perhaps he is not very skilled as an actor, nevertheless his rendition of “Come’ gentil” was triumphant and the audience loved him. He finished the serenade with mezza voce instead of the traditional forte.
John Del Carlo has a huge basso buffo instrument, genuinely suited to this repertoire. He had done a fantastic job as Bartolo in Barbiere few years ago. Some of us may wish to see a more Italian and suave approach like Enzo Dara’s, yet his acting combined with musicianship proved to be great. One wonders why Mariusz Kwiecien is spending time and effort in belcanto repertoire when he should be singing Onegin. He has one of the most beautiful baritone materials in the world today, and the stage presence is remarkable.
Overall, duets were much better received than solos in this performance. Especially “Cheti, cheti immatinente” at the end of third act (which was partially encored!) and “Tornami a dir che m’ami” were executed divinely.
When it comes to the production: It is the original era. The decors are still fresh since it is a young production and one doesn’t need more than that. Changes between scenes were executed pretty rapidly, unlike some other productions (Boheme, Aida, etc…) The world’s best opera chorus does a wonderful job in its very short appearance. The orchestra had no apparent difficulty adapting itself to the unexpected new conductor.
My issue with the production was my frustration about Norina and Malatesta’s relationship. I don’t know if this was Otto Schenk’s perception of them or because it was simply Anna and Mariusz: There was a huge sexual tension between those two. By the end of their duet, they almost made out on stage. I have seen a number of Don Pasquale productions and this stood out with this unusual interpretation. It was, I think, unnecessary. Thus, the title of my review.
This Don Pasquale is really a good production, I highly recommend it. Not only because of a first grade cast who truly enjoy their art, but the simple, yet stupendous music takes one away from one’s daily struggles, questions and doubts. After all, life is fair and everything is fine the way they are. Art is here to soak us into another dimension, a deep level where, even one note of music, makes a miracle. And that is happiness.
I was barely seated in my trademark family circle coin sacre, making sure my new stilettos (with a carefully arranged glimpse) combinees avec mon mink and matching turban covering my auburn hair are noticed by the whole audience (a.k.a. my subjects) when Jimmy showed us his long and hard baton.
The minute I saw James Levine I knew something was wrong. On his way to the pit, he could barely walk, even with his cane. The first and second act the orchestra kind of conducted themselves and no wonder, after a 45 minute intermission, it was announced that the maestro was sick and the remainder of the performance will be conducted by some other James (nobody was able to catch his name, even the handsome gay couple sitting by my side who made me feel as their Norina.) [Joseph Colaneri] did a finer job than Jimmy Boy.
Thank you for reading until now. The remainder of the review will be a more serious one.
Don Pasquale is a belcanto “standard” written by one of the most productive opera composers in the history of opera. This, the 64th of Donizetti’s known 66 operas, was first performed in 1843 at the Comedie-Italienne in Paris.
Anna Netrebko herself admits it is time to convert from girls to queens in her latest interview with Opera News. She is right. The woman has a gorgeous tone, yet the voice is heavy for the part. As per my voice teacher Ira Siff, she should be singing Manon Lescaut. He is right. Yet it’s with always great pleasure one watches and appreciates performers like her who truly have the time of their life on the stage, purely enjoying what they’re doing and radiating all along. Those who haven’t heard her live after the baby: It’s true, Anna’s voice got surprisingly bigger, especially in the middle. Above the staff she was still cautious and covering, perhaps saving it for the next Saturday matinee.
Matthew Polenzani is a very fine musician, who (still) keeps amazing me with his unparalleled pianissimi and heartfelt legato. Perhaps he is not very skilled as an actor, nevertheless his rendition of “Come’ gentil” was triumphant and the audience loved him. He finished the serenade with mezza voce instead of the traditional forte.
John Del Carlo has a huge basso buffo instrument, genuinely suited to this repertoire. He had done a fantastic job as Bartolo in Barbiere few years ago. Some of us may wish to see a more Italian and suave approach like Enzo Dara’s, yet his acting combined with musicianship proved to be great. One wonders why Mariusz Kwiecien is spending time and effort in belcanto repertoire when he should be singing Onegin. He has one of the most beautiful baritone materials in the world today, and the stage presence is remarkable.
Overall, duets were much better received than solos in this performance. Especially “Cheti, cheti immatinente” at the end of third act (which was partially encored!) and “Tornami a dir che m’ami” were executed divinely.
When it comes to the production: It is the original era. The decors are still fresh since it is a young production and one doesn’t need more than that. Changes between scenes were executed pretty rapidly, unlike some other productions (Boheme, Aida, etc…) The world’s best opera chorus does a wonderful job in its very short appearance. The orchestra had no apparent difficulty adapting itself to the unexpected new conductor.
My issue with the production was my frustration about Norina and Malatesta’s relationship. I don’t know if this was Otto Schenk’s perception of them or because it was simply Anna and Mariusz: There was a huge sexual tension between those two. By the end of their duet, they almost made out on stage. I have seen a number of Don Pasquale productions and this stood out with this unusual interpretation. It was, I think, unnecessary. Thus, the title of my review.
This Don Pasquale is really a good production, I highly recommend it. Not only because of a first grade cast who truly enjoy their art, but the simple, yet stupendous music takes one away from one’s daily struggles, questions and doubts. After all, life is fair and everything is fine the way they are. Art is here to soak us into another dimension, a deep level where, even one note of music, makes a miracle. And that is happiness.
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