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Die Meistersinger at the theatre in which it was premiered, on
Wagner’s birthday: an inviting prospect by any standards, still more so
given the director, conductor, and cast, still more so given the opportunity to
see three different productions within little more than a couple of
Opera houses’ neglect of Janáček remains one of the most baffling of the many baffling aspects of the ‘repertoire’. At least three of the composer’s operas would be perfect introductions to the art form: Jenůfa, Katya Kabanova, or The Cunning Little Vixen would surely hook most for life. From the House of the Dead might do likewise for someone of a rather different disposition, sceptical of opera’s claims and conventions.
Director Annabel Arden believes that Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia is ‘all about playfulness, theatricality, light and movement’. It’s certainly ‘about’ those things and they are, as Arden suggests, ‘based in the music’.
George Enescu’s Oedipe was premiered in Paris 1936 but it has taken 80 years for the opera to reach the stage of Covent Garden. This production by Àlex Ollé (a member of the Catalan theatrical group, La Fura Dels Baus) and Valentina Carrasco, which arrives in London via La Monnaie where it was presented in 2011, was eagerly awaited and did not disappoint.
Lyric Opera of Chicago staged Charles Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette as the last opera in its current subscription season.
‘The plot is perhaps the least moral in all opera; wrong triumphs in the name of love and we are not expected to mind.’
Anthony Minghella’s production of Madame Butterfly for ENO is
wearing well. First seen in 2005, it is now being aired for the sixth time and is still, as I observed in 2013, ‘a breath-taking visual banquet’.
This concert version of La straniera felt like a compulsory musicology field trip, but it had enough vocal flashes to lobby for more frequent performances of this midway Bellini.
As poetry is the harmony of words, so music is that of notes; and as poetry is a rise above prose and oratory, so is music the exaltation of poetry.
From experiments with musique concrète in the 1940s, to the
Minimalists’ explorations into tape-loop effects in the 1960s, via the
appearance of hip-hop in the 1970s and its subsequent influence on electronic
dance music in the 1980s, to digital production methods today,
‘sampling’ techniques have been employed by musicians working in
genres as diverse as jazz fusion, psychedelic rock and classical music.
On May 7, 2016, San Diego Opera presented the West Coast premiere of Great Scott, an opera by Terrence McNally and Jake Heggie. McNally’s original libretto pokes fun at everything from football to bel canto period opera. It includes snippets of nineteenth century tunes as well as Heggie's own bel canto writing.
A foiled abduction, a castle-threatening inferno, romantic infatuation, guilt-laden near-suicide, gun-shots and knife-blows: Andrea Leone Tottola’s libretto for Vincenzo Bellini’s first opera, Adelson e Salvini, certainly does not lack dramatic incident.
Opera as an art form has never shied away from the grittier shadows of life. Nor has Manitoba Opera, with its recent past productions dealing with torture, incest, murder and desperate political prisoners still so tragically relevant today.
Published in 1855 as an entertainment for his two daughters, William Makepeace Thackeray’s The Rose and the Ring is a burlesque fairy-tale whose plot — to the author’s wilful delight, perhaps — defies summation and elucidation.
What more fitting memorial for composer Peter Maxwell Davies (d. 03/14/2016) than a splendid performance of The Lighthouse, the third of his eight works for the stage.
I suspect that many of those at the Wigmore Hall for The King’s
Consort’s performance of the La Senna festeggiante (The
Rejoicing Seine) were lured by the cachet of ‘Antonio Vivaldi’ and
further enticed by the notion of a lover’s serenade at which the generic
term ‘serenata’ seems to hint.
Having enjoyed superb singing by a young cast of soloists in Classical
Opera’s UK premiere of Jommelli’s Il Vogoleso the
previous evening, I was delighted that the 2016 Kathleen Ferrier Awards Final
at the Wigmore Hall confirmed the strength and depth of talent possessed by the
young singers studying in and emerging from our academies and conservatoires.
On February 7, 1786, Emperor Joseph II of Austria had brand new one-act operas by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and Antonio Salieri performed in the Schönbrunn Palace’s Orangery.
Those poor opera lovers in Cologne have a never ending problem with the city’s opera house. Together with the rest of city, the construction of the new opera house is mired in political incompetence.
London remains starved of Wagner. This season, its major companies offer but two works, Tannhäuser from the Royal Opera and Tristan from ENO.
16 Nov 2008
Wozzeck stands ankle deep in water on the flooded stage of the Bavarian State Opera, above him hovers a huge, movable box – the dingy apartment he shares with Marie and their adolescent bastard – and he is surrounded by a freak-show worthy of a George Groszian nightmare and worse.
Michael Volle portrays Georg Buechner’s and Alban Berg’s
character with unparalleled intensity, such a beautiful baritonal sound even
in the most harrowing moments, and such ease beneath the tortured surface,
that it is almost too good. He did everything as one could hope for in a
Wozzeck on stage, but he never elicited much pity and never seemed quite as
helpless-hapless as Wozzeck probably should. In a way, his great musical and
dramatic strengths came at the expense of the character.
Something similar could be said about Andreas Kriegenburg’s
direction – or more specifically the phenomenal lighting of Stefan
Bolliger and how it works with the continuously fascinating set of Harald B.
Thor and Andrea Schraad costumes: It is so absorbing, so good and stimulating
to look at, it might distract from the psychological development of the
characters. On Monday night, it also distracted from some so-so singing
(Jürgen Müller underpowered and underwhelming as Drum Major and Clive Bayley
with an average night as the Doctor) and in doing so, it unleashed the drama
unto the audience in a visceral way that even Wozzeck-lovers might not have
Because with this would-be quibbles taken care of, the fact remains that
this was a stunning premiere, a spectacular performance, and indeed a
striking success for the Munich Opera’s second new production under the
new general director Klaus Bachler. Kriegenburg, a theater director, had done
only two operas before (which I have not seen), but here he hit a nerve in
just the right way. Instead of exerting a willful personality, ideology, or
aching modernization on Wozzeck, he gives us an internalized picture (set
roughly in the time of the play’s premiere) where the world as Wozzeck
sees it is how the audience sees it. Except for Marie and his son, the
characters are distortions of their personalities, one more disturbing than
the next. The crowds are hordes of unemployed, shadows in the world of
Wozzeck’s steadily slipping sense of reality. When the
apartment-within-the-stage begins to very subtly shift left and right, the
visualization of this losing grasp on reality becomes so perceptible,
it’s as if you could touch it. I felt like I needed a splash of cold
water or a slap in the face myself.
Amid this Michaela Schuster’s Marie altered between pleasurable
cantabile and appropriate crudeness, Wolfgang Schmidt earned merits with his
cleanly sung, morbidly obese captain, and Munich’s tenor-for-everything
Kevin Conners delivered a fine, sonorous Andres. Wozzeck was also a good
night – to the hesitant surprise of the Munich critics – for
music director Kent Nagano.
Speculations about his contract not being renewed are only slowly
residing, discussions about a rift between the music- and general director
are still indulged in with tabloid-like diligence by the feuilletons. But
this performance was one for a mark in his supporter's good books.
Nagano’s strengths emerge best in modern works where clarity is part of
the musical success.
The orchestra, apparently well rehearsed, gave the music
an elastic, clear treatment; the score sounded taut and diaphanous. Only very
occasionally was the orchestra too loud; more often it was very sensitive.
When Nagano waded onto stage, barefoot and his trousers rolled up, he
received as warm a reception as I’ve heard him get in Munich. Only
Kriegenburg and his team got more – wholly absent of boos, too, perhaps
a novelty for a premiere of a modern production in Munich.
If any Wozzeck production can convince the hesitating masses to listen to
this difficult 20th century masterpiece, it would have to be this one.
Jens F. Laurson