09 Jun 2008
Opera with a human heart
When the Ringling Brothers folded their tents, opera took over. Aïda with elephants, and Walküre with real horses.
The mysteries and myths surrounding Mozart’s Requiem Mass - left unfinished at his death and completed by his pupil, Franz Xaver Süssmayr - abide, reinvigorated and prolonged by Peter Shaffer’s play Amadeus as directed on film by Miloš Forman. The origins of the work’s commission and composition remain unknown but in our collective cultural and musical consciousness the Requiem has come to assume an autobiographical role: as if Mozart was composing a mass for his own presaged death.
I saw two operas consecutively at Oper Koln. First, the utterly bewildering Lucia di Lammermoor; then Thilo Reinhardt’s thrilling Tosca. His staging was pure operatic joy with some Hitchcockian provocations.
Bernard Haitink’s monumental Bruckner and Mahler performances with the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra (RCO) got me hooked on classical music. His legendary performance of Bruckner’s Symphony No. 8 in C-minor, where in the Finale loosened plaster fell from the Concertgebouw ceiling, is still recounted in Amsterdam.
Karita Mattila was born to sing Emilia Marty, the diva around whom revolves Leoš Janáček's The Makropulos Affair (Věc Makropulos). At Prom 45, she shone all the more because she was conducted by Jirí Belohlávek and performed alongside a superb cast from the National Theatre, Prague, probably the finest and most idiomatic exponents of this repertoire.
‘Two outrageous operas in one crazy evening,’ reads the bill. Hyperbole? Certainly not when the operas are two of Jacques Offenbach’s more off-the-wall bouffoneries and when the company is Opera della Luna whose artistic director, Jeff Clarke, is blessed with the comic imagination and theatrical nous to turn even the most vacuous trivia into a sharp and sassy riotous romp.
This performance of Britten's A Midsummer Night's Dream at Glyndebourne was so good that it was the highlight of the whole season, making the term ‘revival’ utterly irrelevant. Jakub Hrůša is always stimulating, but on this occasion, his conducting was so inspired that I found myself closing my eyes in order to concentrate on what he revealed in Britten's quirky but brilliant score. Eyes closed in this famous production by Peter Hall, first seen in 1981?
A staged piano recital and an opera as a concert. Pianist András Schiff accompanied the Salzburg Marionette Theater at the Mozarteum Grosser Saal and Anna Netrebko sang Manon Lescaut at the Grosses Festspielhaus.
On August 4, 2016, soprano Leah Crocetto and accompanist Tamara Sanikidze gave a recital at the Scottish Rite Center in Santa Fe New Mexico. A winner of the Metropolitan Opera Auditions and the BBC Cardiff Singer of the World Contest, this year Crocetto was singing Donna Anna in Santa Fe Opera’s excellent Don Giovanni.
On July 31, 2016, against the ethereal beauty of the main hall in the Scottish Rite Center, soprano Angela Meade and pianist Joe Illick gave a recital offering both opera and art songs ranging in origin from early nineteenth century Europe to mid twentieth century America. Many in the audience probably remembered Meade’s recent excellent portrayal of Norma at Los Angeles Opera.
When more is definitely more, and less would indeed be less. Two of the biggest names in Italian theater art collide in an eponymous theater.
It was the fifth Proms Chamber Music concert at Cadogan Hall this season, and we were celebrating Shakespeare’s 400th. And, given the extent and range of the composers and artists, and the diversity and profundity of the musical achievement inspired by the Bard, we could probably keep celebrating in this fashion ad infinitum.
Each August the bleak and leaky, 12,000 seat Arena Adriatica (home of the famed Pesaro basketball team) magically transforms itself into an improvised opera house that boasts the ultimate in opera chic — exemplary Rossini production standards for its now twelve hundred seats.
This highly enjoyable Prom, part of 2016’s ‘Proms at ’ mini-series, took as its guiding concept the reopening of London’s theatres following the Restoration, focusing in particular upon musical and dramatic responses to Shakespeare. Purcell, rightly, loomed large, with John Blow and Matthew Locke joining him. Receiving their Proms premieres were the excerpts from Timon of Athens and those from Locke’s The Tempest.
With all the bombast of the presidential campaigns rattling in our heads, with invectives being exchanged and measured discussion all but absent, how utterly lovely to retreat and relax into the harmonious soundscape and well-reasoned debate posed in Strauss’ Capriccio, on magnificent display at Santa Fe Opera.
When we entered the Crosby Theatre for Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette the stage was surprisingly dominated by a somber, semi-circular black mausoleum, many chambers inscribed with scrambled names of US Civil War era dead.
Molten passions were seething just below the icy Nordic exterior of Santa Fe Opera’s wholly masterful production of Barber’s Vanessa.
Farce is probably the most difficult of dramatic comedy sub-genres to put across. A farce got up in the stately robes of opera sets its presenters an even higher bar. Presenting an operatic farce on a notoriously chilly and cavernous auditorium is to risk catastrophe.
Fan interest began raging when Santa Fe Opera engaged venerable artist Patricia Racette to make her role debut as Minnie in Puccini’s La Fanciulla del West.
A funny thing happened on the way to Andalusia.
The tale of a Syrian donkey driver. And, yes, the donkey stole the show! The competition was intense — the Vienna Philharmonic and the Grosses Festspielhaus in full production regalia for starters.
When the Ringling Brothers folded their tents, opera took over. Aïda with elephants, and Walküre with real horses.
Supernumeraries infiltrated the chorus, and sets and costumes went beyond the most extravagant excesses of Hollywood. Eat your heart out, Cecil B. DeMille! Opera — growing in popularity by the season — became the opium of the masses, and directors vied with each other in productions that took the breath away. Forget the plot and the music written for it; the show was the thing!
Texas’ 62-year-old Fort Worth Opera — it’s a senior among American companies — is out to restore a proper balance, and the four productions currently on stage there in the FWO’s second summer festival stress that this is no longer just another regional company, but an enterprise that has defined for itself a special identity through its commitment to fidelity, to composers’ intentions, to perceptive direction and a finely honed sense of what it is that makes opera both grand and great. The Turandot that opened the festival on May 24 made all this clear. For those who wanted awe, it was there in the staging designed by Peter Graves and Allen Charles Klein for Opera Cleveland. However, it was Daniel Pelzig’s sensitive direction that made this refreshingly fascinating Puccini.
Dongwon Shin as Calaf
Turandot is a troubling tale. The eponymous heroine isn’t the girl next door; she’s downright nasty, a trait of character underscored by the ease with which she condones the murder of sweet and innocent Liú, the one genuinely good character in the story. In most productions Turandot is a simplified study in frigidity — an ice sculpture imperially above the masses on stage with half of Beijing’s Imperial City on her head and shoulders. Pelzig made her mobile and an agitated presence in her own story. The prehistory of abuse to a female ancestor became a document of modern feminism as she stood next to Liu’ in the younger woman’s hour of sacrifice. And Carter Scott, who stepped in for an ailing Elizabeth Bennett, has the power, passion and agility of voice to make Turandot a portrait of deeply internalized suffering. (The goodness of Liú, sung with youthful devotion by Sandra Lopez, even lost some of its appeal through this meaningful feminization of the Princess.)
Given the paucity of tremendous tenors today it is astonishing that one has to go to Fort Worth to discover Korean-born Dongwon Shin, whose throbbing “Nessun dorma” would leave the citizens of any city willing to surrender a night of sleep to hear the greatest hit in the opera sung with his ardor. Stephen Dubberly had the massive FWO Chorus making music — not merely noise, and FWO music director Joseph Illick extracted playing from the Fort Worth Symphony that added to the impact of a Turandot that one had hoped one day to hear.
Anthony Dean Griffey, a major success of the season at the Met as Britten’s Peter Grimes, has made Lennie, the retarded central figure of Carlisle Floyd’s Of Mice and Men a signature role, and it’s wonderful that audiences can expect the young American tenor to sing this role for decades to come.
Anthony Dean Griffey as Lennie
Even Griffey’s considerable bulk contributes to his success as Lennie, for he seems at first blush just another overweight kid. But watch his fingers as he seeks solace in “something soft.” Keep an eye on his smile and the little skip that he executes from time to time and you’ll swear that you have a genuine case of arrested mental development in front of you. Griffey makes Lennie loveable and he makes his relationship with his companion George — both migrant workers from the Great Depression — meaningful and beautiful.
George could hardly be better sung than he was by Canadian baritone George Addis, another of astonishing FWO artists to watch for elsewhere. Brandi Icard, true, was one dimensional as Curley’s love-starved wife, while Matt Morgan made Curley the quintessential American macho male, recalling Annie Proulx’ pronouncement that “men are the major victims of American masculinity.”
Phillip Addis as George, Stephen West as Candy, and Anthony Dean Griffey as Lennie
The Utah Opera production — sets and costumes by, respectively, Vicki Davis and Susan Memmott-Allred — recalled Grant Wood, and Richard Kagey’s direction upheld the view that this 1971 score is Floyd’s finest work. Illick was again an impressive conductor, especially in the orchestral interludes that put Floyd on a level with the Anton Webern of Wozzeck.
Elizabeth Futral as Lucia
Despite it’s greatest “hits” — the sextet and the Mad Scene — the bel canto melodrama of Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammemoor is not everyone’s tankard of ale. A less-than-great performance is uncomfortably close to parody, and its glaring rejection of traditional family values is wasted on those interested only in coloratura acrobatics. How different, however, the FWO Lucia directed by David Gately and conducted by Steven White!
Lucia has rarely had a better interpreter than Elizabeth Futral, cast by the FWO in the title role. She is one of the loveliest singers of her generation, and she makes bel canto seem her mother tongue. She is wonderfully vulnerable — even when one wishes she would take a knife to Brother Enrico. Futral sang the Mad Scene with delicate sensitivity, never reveling that that’s only catsup and not blood on her hands and gown, Yet this show was almost stolen from her by youthful and up-coming tenor Stephen Costello as losing lover Edgardo, a role he has already sung at the Met. In his cemetery lament in the final scene of the opera Costello, lean and handsome at a mere 28, sang his way into this music with a richness of tone, accuracy and articulation that had the audience on its feet, suggesting that the next great tenor is now — and in Fort Worth.
Elizabeth Futral as Lucia and Stephen Costello as Edgardo
The Cincinnati Opera production is traditional and true to the period and it gained color through lavish costumes from near-by Dallas. The chorus seemed to have had one — or two — too many in the orgiastic post-wedding revelry.
Alissa Anderson, Elizabeth Futral, Allison Whetsel and Pamela Grayson
Homosexuality might have come a long way since the day that it was — said Oscar Wilde — “the love that dare not speak its name” to — as someone quipped in the 70s — the love that won’t shut up. Nonetheless, the composition of an AIDS opera is a task far removed from dashing off another Bohème or Butterfly.
Prior’s (David Adam Moore) prophetic visions culminate in the appearance of an imposing and beautiful Angel (Ava Pine) who crashes through the roof of his apartment and proclaims, “The Great Work begins.”
That alone, however, makes Peter Eötvös’ opera based on Tony Kushner’s Angels in America all the more remarkable — and admirable, and the choice of the work to round out the FWO’s second festival season is to be praised as an act of bravery and bravura. This obviously begs the question about the quality of the opera, which received its first full staging during the festival in Fort Worth’s 500-seat Scott Theater in the city’s museum district. (The other three operas were staged in the city’s still new downtown Bass Performance Hall.) In shaving Angels down from a seven-hour stage work to an opera of a mere two hours Mari Mezei has made a noble attempt to transfer the drama — and its discomforting subject matter — to another medium.
Hannah (Janice Hall) helps Prior (David Adam Moore) who is sick with AIDS
Hungarian-born Eötvös, a major European modernist in the wake of the Second Viennese School, has written much music for the opera that is of ethereal beauty and impressive in technique. (Much of it is delivered by musicians screened on either side of the stage.) Yet the result seems a work in which less is much less; too much has been lost in transition. An immense amount of detail obscures the major issues of Kushner’s play.
With the efforts of a brilliant creative team — conductor Christopher Larkin, director David Gately, designers Peter Nigrini and Claudia Stephens — made Angels a work decidedly worth seeing. And the cast, headed by veteran soprano Janice Hall and Erin Elizabeth Smith, delivered lines ranging from speaking to Sprechstimme to singing with amazing aplomb.
Left to Right: Roy Cohn (Kelly Anderson) and Joe Pitt (Craig Verm) talk politics
Kelly Anderson was a brilliantly butch Roy Cohn (but who remembers today who that was?), and studio artist Ave Pine was vocally stunning as the major angel who flew about on wires while singing famously. In all probability Angels will not be done again in this country in a long, long time, and one is grateful to FWO general director Darren K. Woods for his courage in bringing it to the festival.
A bonus of the ’08 season was the inclusion in the season of Ricky Ian Gordon’s Orpheus and Euridice, his song cycle for soprano, clarinet and piano. The performance by Gina Browning, virtuoso clarinetist Jonathan Jones and Illick at the piano was part of More Life: The Art & Science of AIDS, a series of concurrent events involving a multitude of Fort Worth community organizations designed to focus attention on the AIDS epidemic.
On stage in Fort Worth in 2009 are Carmen, Cinderella and Dead Man Walking. The season from 25 April through June 10 is followed immediately by the 2009 Van Cliburn International Piano Festival. Visit www.fwopera.org.