Dulce Rosa, a brand new opera, had its world premiere Friday night, May 17, 2013 at the Broad Stage in Santa Monica, California. It was produced by Los Angeles Opera, but staged in the smaller theater.
Richard Jones’ 2009 production of Verdi’s Falstaff translates the action from the first Elizabethan age to the start of the second.
Baritone Gareth John is rapidly accumulating a war-chest of honours. Winner of the 2013 Kathleen Ferrier Award, he recently won the Royal Academy of Music Patrons’ Award and was presented the Silver Medal by the Worshipful Company of Musicians.
This second revival of Jonathan Miller’s La bohème was the first time I had caught the production.
It’s Verdi’s bicentenary year and Rolando Villazón has two new CDs to plug — titled somewhat confusingly, ‘Villazón: Verdi’ and ‘Villazón’s Verdi’, the latter a ‘personal selection’ of favourite numbers performed by stars of the past and present.
Nicola Luisotti and the San Francisco Opera Orchestra climbed out of the War Memorial pit, braved the wind whipped bay and held spellbound an audience at Cal Performances’ Zellerbach Auditorium at UC Berkeley.
Utterly mad but absolutely right — Richard Strauss’s Ariadne auf Naxos started the Glyndebourne 2013 season with an explosion. Strauss could hardly have made his intentions more clear. Ariadne auf Naxos is not “about” Greek myth so much as a satire on art and the way art is made.
“Man is an abyss. It makes one dizzy to look into it.” So utters Georg Büchner’s Woyzeck, repeating what was also a recurring motif in the playwright’s own letters.
National Opera Company of the Rhine has marked this year’s Benjamin Britten celebration with a remarkably compelling, often gripping new production of the seldom-seen Owen Wingrave.
Once upon a time, Frankfurt Opera had the baddest ass reputation in Germany as “the” cutting edge producer of must-see opera.
Productions of Giuseppe Verdi’s Rigoletto can serve as a vehicle for individual singers to make a strong impression and become afterward associated with specific roles in the opera.
Just in case we were not aware that the evening’s programme was ‘themed’, the Britten Sinfonia designed a visual accompaniment to their musical exploration of night, sleep and dreams.
Poor Aida! She never seems to have anything go her way.
Is it possible to upstage Jonas Kaufmann? Kaufmann was brilliant in this Verdi Don Carlo at the Royal Opera House, London, but the rest of the cast was so good that he was but first among equals. Don Carlo is a vehicle for stars, but this time the stars were everyone on stage and in the pit. Even the solo arias, glorious as they are, grow organically out of perfect ensemble. This was a performance that brought out the true beauty of Verdi's music.
The big names were absent: Duparc, D’Indy, Debussy, Ravel … and while Fauré, Chausson, Roussel and several members of Les Six put in an appearance, in less than familiar guises, this survey of French song of the early 20th century and interwar years deliberately took us on a journey through infrequently travelled terrain.
Composed between 1718 and 1720, Handel’s Esther is sometimes described as the ‘first English Oratorio’, but is in fact a hybrid form, mixing elements of oratorio, masque, pastoral and opera.
Hector Berlioz's légende dramatique, La Damnation de Faust, exists somewhere between cantata and opera. Berlioz's flexible attitude to dramatic form made the piece unworkable on the stages of early 19th century Paris and his music is so vivid that you wonder whether the piece needs staging at all.
St. John’s Smith Square was the site of Elizabeth Connell’s final London concert, intended as a farewell to London on her moving to Australia. It was rendered ultimately final by her unexpected death.
With the building of the Suez Canal, Egypt became more interesting to Western Europeans. Khedive Ismail Pasha wanted a hymn by Verdi for the opening of a new opera house in Cairo, but the composer said he did not write occasional pieces.
Back for its fourth revival, David McVicar’s 2003 production of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte has much charm, beauty and artistry.
After the successful première of Monteverdi’s “L’Incoronazione di Poppea” (Saturday, November 25th) at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Los Angeles, General Director Placido Domingo spoke warmly and cogently about this early Italian masterpiece, about its free-flowing music and the perfect relevance of the text to today’s world with all its greed, ambition and self-seeking.
He might also have added that it was an opera that suited this particular city so very well: a web of drama and danger, political ambivalence and lack of moral centre. The baddies come out on top; the goodies, if they exist at all, fade into the sunset.
Los Angeles has become synonymous with downtown decay, the inhumanity of its suburban landscapes and an artistic immorality crystallized over decades by the Hollywood film machine. Today, as the city fights its own traditions to restore and renew what used to be good and worthwhile, the formerly conservative LA Opera has been making its own statement of change by allowing and encouraging productions that challenge audiences to leave their comfort zone. “Poppea” was an inspired choice, and although originally envisaged as a new production, it became necessary to import Pierre Audi’s celebrated staging for Netherlands Opera. To sell this to their less adventurous patrons LA Opera engaged world-class performers like Susan Graham (Poppea), Kurt Streit (Nerone), David Daniels (Ottone), Frederica von Stade (Ottavia) and got Harry Bicket to lead a thirteen-strong period band, complete with theorbos, lirone, and baroque cello, from the harpsichord. For many in the audience on first night, this was a revelation indeed: to be able to hear a vocal line with absolute clarity, where the words were everything, the music supporting rather than over-whelming.
In the early 1640’s, as opera was moving from the ducal palaces to public theatres, Monteverdi emphasised plot, drama and virtuoso vocal writing, leaving the gods and mythological creatures behind and concentrating on real human beings for the first time. With “Poppea”, opera entered a new age. Today, his problematic drama still causes an audience to stop and think: can these two rather awful people really win it all - and deserve that happy ending and sublime duet? Of course Monteverdi’s audience knew as well as we do (and probably better in many cases) what was to come later in the story of Nero and Poppea - the vicious violence, the bloody nadir of a tyrant’s rule. They knew that this was a snapshot in time, and that Virtue didn’t always conquer, that Fortune and Love were powers as fickle as dice.
These last three characters, opening the proceedings to set the stage and give warning of what is to come, were well sung by young singers Stacey Tappan, Tonna Miller and Hanan Alattar respectively, although the latter sounded least convincing stylistically. Throughout the opera the minor roles were mixed and matched between some very promising young artists with not a single voice sounding ill-tuned, nor a character looking under-rehearsed. Outstanding among them were tenor Nicholas Phan (Lucano/soldier/friend) and Keith Jameson, another young tenor, singing the role of page Valetto. Jill Groves gave an outstanding performance as Ottavia’s ancient Nutrice.
The roles of philosopher/poet Seneca and Drusilla, hopefully in love with Ottone, were taken by Reinhard Hagen, bass, and Christine Brandes, soprano. Hagen possesses a deep, warm bass that reverberated convincingly around the theatre, giving substance to a character that Monteverdi suggests is essentially morally weak, and even pretentious in his stoicism. Brandes is a baroque singer with world-class credentials and she made the most of the slightly put-upon character of Drusilla, making every word count with a pure soprano that sounded completely at ease in the idiom. Veteran performer Frederica von Stage might not be known for her Handel or Monteverdi, but she showed her immense versatility with a finely-drawn portrayal of Ottavia, vengeful spurned wife of Nerone. The voice might not be what it was in terms of sheer vocal beauty, but it still had power and a fine dramatic sense.
Singing the traditionally “travesti” role of Arnalta, Poppea’s foolish old nurse, British tenor Chris Gillett was a great success with the local audience, as he played the part with a fine balance between farce and pathos. This opera is full of wonderful comic moments, vignettes and asides, that lighten the overall gravity of what is going on “main stage” - and the ridiculous old snob is a major source of that light relief.
But the centre of this opera lies in a triangle of love, ambition and power, represented by Ottone, Poppea and Nerone himself. With David Daniels singing his first (and not last, we hope) Ottone, the audience was treated to a real baroque specialist at work. His exquisitely beautiful instrument is perfectly suited to the melismas and tonal contrasts of the work, not to mention the idiomatic musical style of the period - something not always quite so well accomplished by others. If the part doesn’t allow him to soar to where his voice really blooms, it certainly displays his other vocal and dramatic talents at their eloquent best. One of Audi’s adjustments this time around was to allow Daniels to extend the character from the rather one-dimensional and droopy “spurned lover” into something much edgier, much more scheming. One had only to watch Ottone’s eyes, whilst assuring Drusilla of his suspiciously new “love” for her, to know that she was being cruelly misled.
Ambition, impure and simple, is what the character of Poppea is all about and if Monteverdi had any sympathy for her, it doesn’t show. But there is a kind of awful magnificence about so driven a soul, so determined a woman in the man’s world that was ancient Rome, and mezzo-soprano Susan Graham was in many ways the perfect embodiment of those arguable virtues. Her pinpoint intonation, and expressive and assured control of dynamics ensured that she dominated scenes where Poppea set out her stall to become the most powerful woman in the land; there were also gorgeous pianissimo notes reflecting her occasional inner self-doubts. If there was any doubt in Nerone’s mind, it could only have been “when” not “if” he would gain Poppea as his empress. Kurt Streit is an immensely accomplished dramatic singer and he engaged all his abilities in this portrayal of the despotic emperor who uses absolute power with complete disregard for consequence. If his rich tenor seemed sometimes stretched beyond comfort, it was never to the extent of pain for either singer or audience. He too was able on première night to display some beautiful high soft notes that almost convinced us of his character’s ability to love. Baroque aficionados might argue about the decision to transpose the role of Nerone down from the high alto/male soprano range, as it certainly changes the musical balance between him and Poppea and Seneca, losing those delicious dissonances and “crunches” in the big duets. However, now that Daniels no longer sings Nerone, there are precious few male singers able to cope with the tessitura of this role at the original pitch - and fewer still with a name big enough to fill the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion. Before long, would it be too much to ask for a big house to use both Daniels as Ottone and perhaps young Michael Maniaci as Nerone? The one thing that the two principal singers could not offer in this production of “Poppea” was youth - and we therefore lost an essential element in the story, that of youthful arrogance and bravura. This Nerone was unpleasant, but he wasn’t the brattish young killer of history. This Poppea was beautiful and scheming, but she wasn’t the teenage temptress, nurse in tow, for whom Monteverdi wrote his melodious lines. This is where financial reality, in the form of box office receipts, meets artistic vision - a modern dilemma that the composer would have recognised full well even in the 1640’s.
One cannot leave this production without mentioning the superb costumes, for they were in
fact the major scenic vehicles of story and character progression that gave focus and
colour within Audi’s stark metallic sets. 
The renowned Japanese designer Emi Wada recreated many of the costumes for LA Opera, as the originals were too complex to re-size and each was a masterpiece in textural and expressive design. Both colour and complexity of materials are used to mark the moral and social rise and fall of the characters - for instance Poppea starts out in almost virginal cream and progresses through richer red and gold until she matches Nerone in imperial magnificence for her coronation. Much like Monteverdi’s great gift to modern opera as we know it today, Wada’s costumes are not time specific; they defy categorisation and remain as a work of art in themselves. In a city that is busy trying to re-invent itself, such timelessness shines out like a beacon of hope for the future.
© Sue Loder 2006
Remaining performances at 7pm on December 7th, 13th and 16th; matinee at 2pm December 10th.