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On May 25, 2016, Los Angeles Opera presented a revival of the Herbert Ross production of Giacomo Puccini’s opera, La bohème. Stage director, Peter Kazaras, made use of the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion’s wide stage by setting some scenes usually seen inside the garret on the surrounding roof instead.
On May 21, 2016, Ars Minerva presented The Amazons in the Fortunate Isles (Le Amazzoni nelle Isole Fortunate), an opera consisting of a prologue and three acts by seventeenth century Venetian composer Carlo Pallavicino.
While Pegida anti-refugee demonstrations have been taking place for a while
now in Dresden, there was something noble about the Semperoper with its banners
declaring all are welcome, listing Othello, the Turk, and the hedon Papageno as
Opera houses’ neglect of Leoš 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.
It’s not easy for critics to hit the right note when they write about musical collaborations between students and professionals. We have to allow for inevitable lack of polish and inexperience while maintaining an overall high standard of judgment.
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
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.
17 Jun 2009
Ian Bostridge at the Chicago Symphony Orchestra
In a recent Chicago Symphony Orchestra concert featuring twentieth-century
instrumental and vocal compositions Ian Bostridge sang Benjamin Britten’s
Les Illuminations under the direction of principal conductor Bernard
The concert opened with a contemporary arrangement of early music,
Steven Stucky’s transcription of Henry Purcell’s Funeral Music
for Queen Mary, this version receiving its first performances by the
Chicago Symphony Orchestra. The second half of the program offered a masterful
account of Dimitri Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 15, the performance here
yielding considerable opportunity for both soloists and orchestral ensemble.
The brief transcription of Funeral Music in four parts,
beginning and ending with a march, honors the musical spirit of Purcell while
offering a modern interpretation of the same. After an introduction emphasizing
low notes for the flute, a steady piano accompaniment gives way to the drums
signaling a dignified realization of death. Following this opening, the CSO
brass played an appropriately somber dirge, indeed one associated with the
elevated stance of passing royalty. An oboe solo, performed here with great
effect by Eugene Izotov, was echoed by the brass, such types of musical
dialogue informing much of the remainder of Stucky’s transcription of
Purcell. Sustained notes held by the use of the vibraphone introduced a
continuity leading to a final stately reprise, with the repetition of drums
calling the funereal tone into an ultimate focus.
The significance of Purcell’s music for Benjamin Britten is certainly
recognized from the latter’s instrumental compositions, and the pairing
in this concert with Les Illuminations functioned as yet further
homage to the earlier composer. Britten was first inspired by the poetry of
Arthur Rimbaud in the late 1930s and finished in 1940 his cycle of songs,
Les Illuminations for high voice and strings, based on
Rimbaud’s texts of the same name. The singer’s approach to the
poetic texts by Rimbaud and interaction with the string orchestra is key to a
unified approach in a performance of this cycle. Bostridge has given ample
consideration to a multi-faceted approach evident in this program. He injects a
sense of drama without appearing overwrought in tone while, at the same time,
maintaining sufficient ironic distance so that his performance serves as both
song and commentary on the text and music being performed. In the introductory
lines of “Fanfare” Bostridge declares with proud conviction
“J’ai seul la clef de cette parade” [“I alone have the
keys to this parade”]. When these words are repeated and varied ending
piano on the phrase “cette parade sauvage” [“this savage
parade”], the singer becomes a keeper of secrets, one who bears the mask
of an omniscient observer. With this alternating perspective Bostridge guided
the listeners through the following series of poems chosen and set by Britten.
“Villes” [“Cities”] details the varied and stirring
activity of the modern city, filled with moving individuals and their means of
transportation. To illustrate the mix of ancient and modern — the seeming
paradox of nature, myth, and metropolis — Bostridge intoned, in effective
succession, a rising followed by a descending scale on the verbal forms in the
phrase “la lune brûle et hurle.”[“the moon burns and
howls”]. At the close of this song the paradox of frenetic movement and
ancient model was capped softly by Bostridge as he asked “d’ou
viennent mes sommeils…?” [“from where does my sleep come
…?”] with tender inquisitiveness. In the following text of
“Phrase” the lyrical I speaks, almost as one of the fates,
stretching cords from one pinnacle or window to another. While describing
movement here with the statement, “et je danse” [“and I
dance”], the tenor emphasized the physical verb starting on a crystalline
high note that progressed, glissando and gracefully all-encompassing, to a
concluding low. In the following three pieces, before an orchestral interlude,
the tone sways between the private and the open spheres. “Antique”
is a direct address to the son of Pan, both description and attempt to
communicate, during which Bostridge used his voice to suggest the musical
instrument associated with the deity. The range of notes struck so effectively
by the singer in the conclusion to this song evoked the female and male aspects
of the “double sexe” as cited. In “Royauté” an
unidentified couple indeed play at the roles of royalty for an extended day,
their self-absorption brought out especially in the ironic detachment of this
performance. The movements of the ocean and foam slapping against a boat in
“Marine” were convincingly imitated by melismatic effects on
“l’écume” [“foam”] and the final emphasis of
“tourbillons de lumière” [“whirlpools of light”].
As the first in the second group of texts following the orchestral
interlude, “Being Beauteous,” as titled by Rimbaud, is replete with
contrasting images that call into question the concepts of actual and idealized
appearance. Through notable shifts in tempo Bostridge underlined these
contrasts while allowing the text to maintain its own organic flow. The tone of
the song was aptly concluded with a low, almost heavy vocal projection on the
words “de l’air leger” [“of the soft air”],
suggesting by the performer antithesis in one’s perceptions of beauty. In
the final two songs, “Parade” and “Départ,” the soloist
released a crescendo of varied emotions as he observed and commented on the
parade of humanity, a further and elongated assurance here given that the key
to the parade rested with the perception of this voice. In “Départ”
Bostridge looked truly weary as he sang “Assez vu” [“Enough
seen”], the slow and quiet intonations now concluding a cycle of
contradictions, as the final phrase, “l’affection et le bruit
neufs” [“the new affection and noise”] trailed softly into
In the Symphony No. 15 by Shostakovich, performed after the intermission,
Haitink gave cohesive direction to a sprawling work that blends original motifs
with ample quotation. In the first movement, marked Allegretto, an initial
motif was introduced by the solo flute, played poignantly by Mathieu Dufour and
leading into a series of other solo parts in succession. After the bassoon,
oboe, and trombone contributed their parts, combinations of instruments — e.g.
flute and brass, piccolo and strings — were punctuated by intermittent
references to the William Tell overture by Rossini. In the second, Adagio
movement a solo for cello was played exquisitely by John Sharp, who was
subsequently joined by Dufour in a duet followed by the full complement of
strings. The concluding movements of the Symphony, with various tempo markings
including — again — Allegretto, contain yet further quotations from the
composer’s own works as well. The integration of the past and
transformation into a new composition remained the guiding force behind
Haitink’s memorable interpretation.