Recently in Performances
Is A Dog’s Heart even an opera? It is sung by opera singers to live
music. Alexander Raskatov’s score, however, is secondary to the incredible
stage visuals. Whatever it is, actor/director Simon McBurney’s first stab at
opera is fantastic theatre. Its revival at Dutch National Opera, where it
premiered in 2010, is hugely welcome.
I kept hearing from knowledgeable opera fanatics that the Israeli Opera (IO) in Tel Aviv was a surprising sure bet. So I made my way to the Homeland to hear how supposedly great the quality of opera was. And man, I was in for treat.
At Phoenix’s Symphony Hall on Friday evening April 7, Arizona Opera offered its final presentation of the 2016-2017 season, Gioachino Rossini’s Cinderella (La Cenerentola). The stars of the show were Daniela Mack as Cinderella, called Angelina in the opera, and Alek Shrader as Don Ramiro. Actually, Mack and Shrader are married couple who met singing these same roles at San Francisco Opera.
On Saturday evening April 1, 2017, Placido Domingo and Los Angeles Opera celebrated their tenth year of training young opera artists in the Domingo-Colburn-Stein Program. From the singing I heard, they definitely have something of which to be proud.
The town’s name itself “Baden-Baden” (named after Count Baden) sounds already enticing. Built against the old railway station, its Festspielhaus programs the biggest stars in opera for Germany’s largest auditorium. A Mecca for music lovers, this festival house doesn’t have its own ensemble, but through its generous sponsoring brings the great productions to the dreamy idylle.
The Festspielhaus in Baden-Baden pretty much programs only big stars. A prime example was the Fall Festival this season. Grigory Sokolov opened with a piano recital, which I did not attend. I came for Cecilia Bartoli in Bellini’s Norma and Christian Gerhaher with Schubert’s Die Winterreise, and Anne-Sophie Mutter breathtakingly delivering Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto together with the London Philharmonic Orchestra. Robin Ticciati, the ballerino conductor, is not my favorite, but together they certainly impressed in Mendelssohn.
Mahler as dramatist! Mahler Symphony no 8 with Vladimir Jurowski and the London Philharmonic Orchestra at the Royal Festival Hall. Now we know why Mahler didn't write opera. His music is inherently theatrical, and his dramas lie not in narrative but in internal metaphysics. The Royal Festival Hall itself played a role, literally, since the singers moved round the performance space, making the music feel particularly fluid and dynamic. This was no ordinary concert.
Imagine a fête galante by Jean-Antoine Watteau brought to life, its colour and movement infusing a bucolic scene with charm and theatricality. Jean-Philippe Rameau’s opéra-ballet Les fêtes d'Hébé, ou Les talens lyriques, is one such amorous pastoral allegory, its three entrées populated by shepherds and sylvans, real characters such as Sapho and mythological gods such as Mercury.
Whatever one’s own religious or spiritual beliefs, Bach’s St Matthew Passion is one of the most, perhaps the most, affecting depictions of the torturous final episodes of Jesus Christ’s mortal life on earth: simultaneously harrowing and beautiful, juxtaposing tender stillness with tragic urgency.
Lindy Hume’s sensational La bohème at the Berliner
Staatsoper brings out the moxie in Puccini. Abdellah Lasri emerged as a
stunning discovery. He floored me with his tenor voice through which he
embodied a perfect Rodolfo.
Listening to Moritz Eggert’s Caliban is the equivalent of
watching a flea-ridden dog chasing its own tail for one-and-half hours. It
scratches, twitches and yelps. Occasionally, it blinks pleadingly, but you
can’t bring yourself to care for such a foolish animal and its
A large audience packed into the Wigmore Hall to hear the two Baroque rarities featured in this melodious performance by Christian Curnyn’s Early Opera Company. One was by the most distinguished ‘home-grown’ eighteenth-century musician, whose music - excepting some of the lively symphonies - remains seldom performed. The other was the work of a Saxon who - despite a few ups and downs in his relationship with the ‘natives’ - made London his home for forty-five years and invented that so English of genres, the dramatic oratorio.
On March 24, 2017, Los Angeles Opera revived its co-production of Jacques Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann which has also been seen at the Mariinsky Opera in Leningrad and the Washington National Opera in the District of Columbia.
Ermonela Jaho is fast becoming a favourite of Covent Garden audiences, following her acclaimed appearances in the House as Mimì, Manon and Suor Angelica, and on the evidence of this terrific performance as Puccini’s Japanese ingénue, Cio-Cio-San, it’s easy to understand why. Taking the title role in the first of two casts for this fifth revival of Moshe Leiser’s and Patrice Caurier’s 2003 production of Madame Butterfly, Jaho was every inch the love-sick 15-year-old: innocent, fresh, vulnerable, her hope unfaltering, her heart unwavering.
Calliope Tsoupaki’s latest opera, Fortress Europe, premiered
as spring began taming the winter storms in the Mediterranean.
To celebrate its 40th anniversary New Sussex Opera has set itself the challenge of bringing together the six scenes - sometimes described as six discrete ‘tone poems’ - which form Delius’s A Village Romeo and Juliet into a coherent musico-dramatic narrative.
Reflections on former visits to Opera Holland Park usually bring to mind late evening sunshine, peacocks, Japanese gardens, the occasional chilly gust in the pavilion and an overriding summer optimism, not to mention committed performances and strong musical and dramatic values.
Written at a time when both his theatrical business and physical health were in a bad way, Handel’s Faramondo was premiered at the King’s Theatre in January 1738, fared badly and sank rapidly into obscurity where it languished until the late-twentieth century.
Fabio Luisi conducted the London Symphony Orchestra in Brahms A German Requiem op 45 and Schubert, Symphony no 8 in B minor D759 ("Unfinished").at the Barbican Hall, London.
The atmosphere was a bit electric on February 25 for the opening night of
Leoš Janàček’s 1921 domestic tragedy, and not entirely in a
21 Oct 2008
Idomeneo in San Francisco
Munich in 1781 was hardly the big city, not an enlightened Paris where Gluck had recently turned the opera world on its ear, not a European capital like Vienna where Italian operatic imperialism was unassailable.
was certainly aware of operatic life in the big city, and did its best to
compete, doing so by the commission of an opera called Idomeneo to a
bright young composer, an ascending star, W.A. Mozart.
Alice Coote as Idamante
No one would know then that this little opera with its big aspirations
could become a mainstay of current big house repertory, though truth to tell
it sits there a little uncomfortably. While it has the big chorus scenes
Paris loved, even the sine qua non ballet that opera companies do not even
attempt these days, not to mention the scenic spectacular that universally
wows, it inevitably also has the Mozart genius that goes well beyond these
old opera stories and their splendid vocalism. It is music that heads
straight for the heart and the mind. The Marriage of Figaro is just
beyond the horizon (five years away) as immediately after Idomeneo
Mozart begins exploring the more nuanced world of comedy first with a
singspiel and then two small, unfinished buffa’s.
But meanwhile the serious Idomeneo is built on an already dead operatic
irony. To save his own life Idomeneo must sacrifice another life,
and to save his people he really has to do so, even though Idamante, his son
and his victim, has saved the people from the terrible sea monster that
Neptune unleashed when Idomeneo was reluctant. Opera seria is big
and bold and improbable. Rossini would again make it so only a few years later, but not the Mozart of Idomeneo, a valiant child of the Enlightenment.
This early Mozart indulges the women who love Idamante in delicate and
passionate personal expressions of their love. Mozart places his father in
quiet, deep torment, and even his son (in Mozart’s Munich the castrato
Vicenzo dal Prato) voices real grief in his often above-the-staff,
male-soprano showpiece. And these are only the seeds of discovery for the
exposition of human souls in his greatest masterpieces, the Da Ponte comedies
— these Idomeneo creations soon enough will become his Countess and
Elvira, his Count and his tongue-in-cheek castrato, Cherubino.
Kurt Streit (Idomeneo) and Alek Shrader (Arbace)
San Francisco is no longer the big city operatically speaking, certainly
not the New York of the renewed Met, or even Munich for that matter, and in
the case of the current edition of Idomeneo, San Francisco does not
even try to compete with big operatic thinkers, as it did in the 1977 when
Jean Pierre Ponnelle made the first San Francisco Idomeneo. Instead
San Francisco Opera dusted off its twenty year-old John Copley production,
cast it with relatively unknown stars-in-the-making, and entrusted it to the
broad musicality of its music director, Donald Runnicles.
The Copley production does indeed provide a comfortable background for
this minor Mozart masterpiece. Its settings designed by John Conklin
delicately reference antiquity, its costumes coolly incorporate tunics and
togas for its choruses with rich, courtly seventeenth century dress for its
protagonists. Mr. Copley makes his actors’ movements flow with the music in
naturalistic ways, motions that are continuously choreographed, that echo the
naturalness of the music rather than illustrate or impose the artificiality
of the opera seria genre. Mr. Conklin’s visual images flow in
the same fashion, seemingly in continuous movement as the aria follows aria.
The entirety of the staging was like a beautiful wallpaper that surrounds
voice and music.
Maestro Runnicles brought the entire second act to a timeless, sublime
musicality, the departure trio dangling its hopes and fears, the arias
melting with emotion. The great third act quartet unfolded grandly, then four
graphically magnificent horses rose gracefully from the sea (masking any sort
of terrifying sea monster). And the music never faltered. Well, only once — a
small moment of real drama when the cue for the deus ex machina was
a trifle late and we all had a fleeting moment to laugh at the ridiculousness
of such things. This evening in toto was like a perfect recording,
we knew the music need never end.
Tenor Kurt Streit provided a fine Idomeneo, his well-produced, clear voice
able to encompass the huge range of emotions inherent in this difficult role.
The Idamante of mezzo-soprano Alice Coote amply filled the musical, vocal and
even histrionic needs of this complex role, a perfect Idamante for this
Copley exercise in musical flow. Genia Kühmeier sang beautifully as Ilia,
glorious pianissimos flowing into passionate outpourings. Even the smaller
scale of the spurned Electra of Iano Tamar seemed perfectly at home in the
calm flow of this production. Bass Robert MacNeil was adequate as the High
Priest of Neptune, less so the Arbace of Adler fellow Alek Shrader.