01 May 2007
Tristan und Isolde: Total Immersion
The Los Angeles Philharmonic in April and May brought back its Tristan Project for the benefit of audiences in California and New York City.
On February 21, 2017, San Diego Opera presented Giuseppe Verdi’s last composition, Falstaff, at the Civic Theater. Although this was the second performance in the run and the 21st was a Tuesday, there were no empty seats to be seen. General Director David Bennett assembled a stellar international cast that included baritone Roberto de Candia in the title role and mezzo-soprano Marianne Cornetti singing her first Mistress Quickly.
In Neil Armfield’s new production of Die Zauberflöte at Lyric Opera of Chicago the work is performed as entertainment on a summer’s night staged by neighborhood children in a suburban setting. The action takes place in the backyard of a traditional house, talented performers collaborate with neighborhood denizens, and the concept of an onstage audience watching this play yields a fresh perspective on staging Mozart’s opera.
Patricia Racette’s Salome is an impetuous teenage princess who interrupts the royal routine on a cloudy night by demanding to see her stepfather’s famous prisoner. Racette’s interpretation makes her Salome younger than the characters portrayed by many of her famous colleagues of the past. This princess plays mental games with Jochanaan and with Herod. Later, she plays a physical game with the gruesome, natural-looking head of the prophet.
On February 17, 2017 Pacific Opera Project performed Gaetano Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore at the Ebell Club in Los Angeles. After that night, it can be said that neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night can stay this company from putting on a fine show. Earlier in the day the Los Angeles area was deluged with heavy rain that dropped up to an inch of water per hour. That evening, because of a blown transformer, there was no electricity in the Ebell Club area.
There has been much reconstruction of Marseille’s magnificent Opera Municipal since it opened in 1787. Most recently a huge fire in 1919 provoked a major, five-year renovation of the hall and stage that reopened in 1924.
With her irresistible cocktail of spontaneity and virtuosity, Cecilia Bartoli is a beloved favourite of Amsterdam audiences. In triple celebratory mode, the Italian mezzo-soprano chose Rossini’s La Cenerentola, whose bicentenary is this year, to mark twenty years of performing at the Concertgebouw, and her twenty-fifth performance at its Main Hall.
Matthew Rose and Gary Matthewman Winterreise: a Parallel Journey at the Wigmore Hall, a recital with extras. Schubert's winter journey reflects the poetry of Wilhelm Müller, where images act as signposts mapping the protagonist's psychological journey.
Donizetti’s Anna Bolena, composed in 1830, didn’t make it to Lisbon until 1843 when there were 14 performances at its magnificent Teatro São Carlos (opened 1793), and there were 17 more performances spread over the next two decades. The entire twentieth century saw but three (3) performances in this European capital.
It is difficult to know where to begin to praise the stunning achievement of Opera San Jose’s West Coast premiere of Silent Night.
Like Carmen, Billy Budd is an operatic personage of such breadth and depth that he becomes unique to everyone. This signals that there is no Billy Budd (or Carmen) who will satisfy everyone. And like Carmen, Billy Budd may be indestructible because the opera will always mean something to someone.
American composer John Adams turns 70 this year. By way of celebration no less than seven concerts in this season’s NTR ZaterdagMatinee series feature works by Adams, including this concert version of his first opera, Nixon in China.
Despite the freshness, passion and directness, and occasional wry quirkiness, of many of the works which formed this lunchtime recital at the Wigmore Hall - given by mezzo-soprano Kathryn Rudge, pianist James Baillieu and viola player Guy Pomeroy - a shadow lingered over the quiet nostalgia and pastoral eloquence of the quintessentially ‘English’ works performed.
'Nobody does Gilbert and Sullivan anymore.’ This was the comment from many of my friends when I mentioned the revival of Mike Leigh's 2015 production of The Pirates of Penzance at English National Opera (ENO). Whilst not completely true (English Touring Opera is doing Patience next month), this reflects the way performances of G&S have rather dropped out of the mainstream. That Leigh's production takes the opera on its own terms and does not try to send it up, made it doubly welcome.
On Feb 3, 2017, Arizona Opera presented Giacomo Puccini’s dramatic opera Madama Butterfly. Sandra Lopez was the naive fifteen-year-old who falls hopelessly in love with the American Naval Officer.
In the last of my three day adventure, I headed to Vienna for the Wiener Philharmoniker at the Musikverein (my first time!) for Mahler and Brahms.
In Amsterdam legend Janine Jansen and the seventh Principal Conductor of the Royal Concertgebouw, Daniele Gatti, came together for their first engagement in a ravishing performance of Berg’s Violin Concerto.
I extravagantly scheduled hearing the Berliner, Concertgebouw Orchestra, and Wiener Philharmoniker, to hear these three top orchestra perform their series programmes opening the New Year.
There is no bigger or more prestigious name in avant-garde French theater than Romeo Castellucci (b. 1960), the Italian metteur en scène of this revival of Arthur Honegger’s mystère lyrique, Joan of Arc at the Stake (1938) at the Opéra Nouvel in Lyon.
On January 28, 2017, Los Angeles Opera premiered James Robinson’s nineteen twenties production of Mozart’s The Abduction from the Seraglio, which places the story on the Orient Express. Since Abduction is a work with spoken dialogue like The Magic Flute, the cast sang their music in German and spoke their lines in English.
Fecund Jason, father of his wife Isifile’s twins and as well father of his seductress Medea’s twins, does indeed have a problem — he prefers to sleep with and wed Medea. In this resurrection of the most famous opera of the seventeenth century he evidently also sleeps with Hercules.
The Los Angeles Philharmonic in April and May brought back its Tristan Project for the benefit of audiences in California and New York City.
Two years ago LAPhil created the project by playing an act of the great Wagnerian romance each night coupled with other music that in some way related to Wagner, finally performing a complete presentation of the three-act masterpiece. This year the complementary composer was Debussy, and after three one act evenings at The Disney Concert Hall (and at Avery Fisher Hall in New York the following week), two full performances were played, under the musical direction of Esa-Pekka Salonen. Your observer was at the second Los Angeles presentation, April 24.
These were concert performances, the so-called “project” elements being a semi-staging by director Peter Sellars supported by Bill Viola’s visual projections seen on a huge screen above and behind the orchestra, while singers were in their usual places next to the conductor, though they occasionally appeared in other locations in the hall for certain scenes. For example, the beginning of the Liebesnacht (Act II) had Isolde in a balcony on one side of the hall, Tristan opposite; gradually the singers merged onto the stage for the final moments of the duet. Brangaene sang her warnings from an uppermost balcony above and behind the stage. It was not as radical or innovative as LAPhil seemed to think, or advertise, and at times Sellars’ efforts proved to be more distracting than elucidating of Wagner’s drama.
Most puzzling were Viola’s projections. They were hardly high art, and I found they did little to support the music or action of Tristan und Isolde. For the most part they were of great specificity, too great: when the sea was mentioned in Wagner’s text, the screen showed sea; when the thwarted passion of Tristan and Isolde was referred to in Act I, Viola presented two actors filmed in a slow-motion strip finally standing entirely nude (some members of the audience departed at that point), and then dissolved into streams of water pouring over their hands, and so on, for three long acts. In the passionate Liebesnacht duet of Act II, Viola filled the screen with a huge conflagration of orange flames, as if Wagner’s music and text had not already made the point. I ultimately paid little attention to the visuals, which simply became clichéd backdrops for, in fact, the singers were acting on their own and often quite effectively. I was impressed that the presenters were trying to spoon-feed Wagner to audiences that were presumably unfamiliar with the material. Nothing could have been more pointless; the Los Angeles audience that I saw was mature, sophisticated, and knew what they were hearing.
What they heard was a vocally ravishing presentation by Christine Brewer (Isolde) and Anne Sophie von Otter (Brangaene), and instrumentalists of the Los Angeles Philharmonic, of Wagner’s seminal score of passion, driven but unfulfilled, ultimately resolved in the Liebestod when death closed all wounds. Conductor Salonen and his musicians contributed a clean and clear, if uneventful, reading and the two leading sopranos could hardly have been bettered in any opera house of the world.
The locus of these performances is important, not only because Disney Hall is the home of the splendid Los Angeles Philharmonic, but also because it is a singularly eccentric room, one that does not seem particularly well suited to a presentation of big vocal music in such a manner. As is well known, Disney Hall was the brain child of Salonen working with architect Frank Gehry, and it proved of long gestation and difficult birth, with many delays and cost overruns during its design and construction. When Disney finally opened in 2003, what we found was a medium-sized hall shaped more-or-less like an old style bath tub, all grandly made of wood and beautifully decorated, with the orchestra space occupying about half the main floor. The rest of that floor is for audience, and several tiered terraces that run entirely around the arena-like room comprise the balance of the seating. Thus, music emanates from about the center of the room, and in the midst of the audience. The acoustical effect seemed, in the Tristan presentation, to be that of ‘surround-sound;’ the sound source seemed generalized, lacking in point and origin. One feels he is sitting in the middle of it all, at times not exactly certain whence the musical stream is coming. Odd as this sounds, the arrangement can work well for the orchestra and for instrumental music. The hall is acoustically well balanced, perhaps with a slight prominence to bass frequencies, and has a fine ability to blend sound. Salonen and his players are now accustomed to making music there and they do so elegantly. Yet, ironically, with the commanding voices of Brewer, von Otter and the other singers, there was in the acoustic a certain lack of ‘presence.’ The voices were generally audible, and crisp top notes would ring and resound in the hall; yet, the over-all tonal effect of the singing was a bit diffuse, even dim, especially for audience members located behind the singers and orchestra, which comprised quite a few. In a conventional proscenium hall, I expect the vocal experience would have been more satisfying, more in keeping with the nature of Wagner’s opera. LAPhil deserves high marks for trying to be innovative with this repertory piece, but the efforts of Messrs. Sellars, Viola and Salonen did not quite come off.
American soprano Christine Brewer is a unique singer. She calls herself a “big lyric soprano,” and I think that is a fair description. This is not a hard or piercing, laser-like voice of classic Wagnerians such as Birgit Nilsson or Gwyneth Jones; far from it. Brewer’s tones are soft-edged, often floated in mellowness and a wonderful variety of color. Her singing of Isolde’s love music in Act II was exquisitely modulated, and with light orchestration under it, floated hauntingly through the hall. The powerful singing required in Act I was also there, but it did not bowl one over through sheer volume. Brewer is well versed in the role, having sung it for a half dozen years, her German text and musical moods are convincing and apt, and her pitch in this difficult chromatic score was rock solid. She is a large handsome woman with great energy and musical integrity; when it comes time to hear her concept of Isolde in a favorable hall (such as the Metropolitan Opera) she could make Wagnerian musical history.
The Swedish mezzo soprano, Anne Sophie von Otter, famed for her Mozart and Strauss opera and lieder performances, was essaying Brangaene for the first time. Her bright appealing voice was entirely up to the task and her textual reading superlative.
LAPhil’s male singers were considerably less impressive. The experienced German tenor Christian Franz had good routine in his title part and represented Tristan’s emotions and agonies with effective body language. It was a pleasure to hear his idiomatic German, and to witness his command of the role’s drama. Alas, his voice was often inaudible, and when heard was afflicted with roughness and, when he was not shouting out his top, a shallow, sometimes under-pitched tone. In the response to King Mark’s address in Act I, Franz used a near-parlando to get his words across, and he found a measure of sympathetic appeal. I wish I could say this was an adequate vocal performance, but it was not. John Relyea worked hard to portray the angry King Mark, but he seemed young in the role and his fine bass voice a bit labored. The Finnish bass-baritone Jukka Rasilainen played Tristan’s companion Kurwenal with assurance if not with much beauty of voice or dignity of action. Other parts were taken by Thomas Rolf Truhitte as Melot, Michael Slattery as the Sailor’s Voice and Shepherd and Jinyoung Jang as the Steersman. Men of the Los Angeles Master Chorale were reliable and precise under the strong direction of Grant Gershon. They managed to end Act I with considerable excitement.
I have saved Esa-Pekka Salonen for last, for in Wagner the conductor is most often of the greatest importance, the first among equals. While the New Yorker magazine reports, in an article titled “The Anti-Maestro” [April 30], on these performances that Salonen “was precise in rhythm and rich in timbre; few conductors give as clean a beat or have so acute an ear for combinations of sounds,” indeed I found those qualities, but not much more — and there it lots more to conducting Wagner. There was also mention of “an unchecked heat in the playing” of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. Such heat as I heard was generated by Mme. Brewer and some of the other singers. I had to conclude, based on this hearing, that Salonen is not much the Wagnerian. He reminded me of Pierre Boulez in this repertory, just let the music play itself and don’t do much. Sometimes that’s not a bad idea. But Salonen had minimal feel for shaping the Wagnerian phrase or the play and accents of dynamics. The big effects were in place; the nuances were not, and the sinuous eroticism of the love duet never took hold. From the first opening chords of the Vorspiel the Wagnerian mysterioso was absent. By the resolution of the ‘Tristan chord’ at the close of the Liebestod, we knew we’d heard an eventful Tristan, but one in which some of the parts were decidedly more interesting than the whole.
© J. A. Van Sant 2007