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
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.
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.
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.
Gil Shohat, now 35 and Israeli’s top classical composer, was 15 when
in the ‘80s he saw Hanoch Levin’s The Child Dream on stage in his native Tel Aviv. Shohat, of course, knew Levin’s work well, for throughout early decades in the history of Israel he — its outstanding dramatist — had served somewhat as the conscience of a nation tormented defining itself within its pain-wrought beginnings.
Gil Shohat: The Child Dreams Libretto based on a play by Hanoch Levin
“I knew then that I would compose Dream, said Shohat in a post-performance interview in the Tel Aviv Opera House, where
the premiere of the opera had taken place on January 18. Shohat’s plans
were seconded by Israeli Opera general director Hanna Munitz, who had also
sensed the operatic potential of drama when she saw it on stage.
Touched by the deep despair of the story and the genuine poetry of the text,
Munitz commissioned Dream for her company. It is the first opera
composed on any Levin text. Point of departure for Levin was the 1977 film
Voyage of the Damned, the story of the St. Louis, the ship unable
to attain landing rights for its fleeing refugees during World War II. But
this, it must be stressed, is no more than raw material for what is now
True, the opera underscores the degree to which the Holocaust remains today
a defining experience for the Israeli consciousness, yet the local critic who
placed the new opera “among the most depressing and despair-radiating
operas of the repertoire” missed the point of the transformation of the
story through music achieved by Shohat and his director Omri Nizan. (Nizan, an
old hand at the Cameri Theater, helped Shohat with minor changes in the text
— nothing was added — and then served in the vastly more important
role as director of the production.)
For through music the child at the center of the drama becomes much more
than a single child and his story is far greater than the tale of one
individual example of injustice. The Child is now a young Everyman with hopes
for a better and more just world. That this world is closed to him — and
not just by the near-criminality of captain of the ship that might have brought
salvation — elevates Dream to the level of mythic
universality. The story is quickly told. The Mother hopes to escape with her
son on the ship. The Captain demands payment “in the flesh.” The
ship reaches a ghost-like island, but passengers are not allowed to disembark
by the despotic governor, the second evil figure in the story.
In one of the most moving moments in the score — 2 hours and 30
minutes with one intermission — a crippled child — mezzo Shira Raz
I’m a poet.
I write about you who come out of the fog
and return and disappear in it. I weep over your fate
and sketch it.
your faces approaching tell the tale of delusion;
but all human failure is stamped on the back of your
The Crippled Child speaks above and across the play for Levin himself who
sees little but frustration and failure in the attempted escape.
The final act — an apotheosis of sorts — breaks with the seeming
realism of the earlier three acts (and it was wise, therefore, to insert the
intermission at this point). Dozens of “dead” children suspended
above the stage whisper of their fate while the female nonet that opened the
opera sings again of their sorry situation.
There is a Straussian sadness about this conclusion; it its muted melancholy
it recalls the elder composer’s Metamorphosen, the
“mourning for Munich” that he wrote after the destruction of his
native city. It is deeply felt and moving music that might well become a
concert piece in its own right.
And as the many who visit the memorial to children victims of the Holocaust
in Jerusalem’s Yad Vashem experience not consolation but rather the hope
beyond hopelessness so essential in any confrontation with the vast inhumanity
of the 20th century, here too there is an elevation beyond meaningless
Child Dream is an ambitious work calling for a cast
of 20, all drawn from the roster of the resident company. Outstanding among
them were Larissa Tetuev as the Mother, a role she shared later with Ira
Bertman, Hila Baggio as the child and Noah Briger as the Captain.
In only his second season as IO music director, David Stern extracted
exemplary playing from the Rishon Le-Zion Orchestra, the company’s pit
band. Sets and costumes were effectively designed by Austrian-born Gottried
Helnwein. Lighting by Avi Yonah Bueno contributes to making this a colorful
show engaging to the eye.
Shohat has documented his superlative command of the composer’s craft
in an incredible long and diverse catalgue. In Dream, however, he
travels on no new turf, but concentrates rather on giving musical meaning to an
unusually demanding text.
Dream is written for reduced orchestra, and outstanding is the
manner in which Shohat has woven the piano into the ensemble to achieve unusual
effects. (The composer is a concretizing pianist as well.)
It is unavoidable that some find the opera with its focus on the death of
children depressing and even morbid. In so doing, they overlook the strong
element of empathy that Shohat’s music brings to Levin’s turgid
story. In the final analysis, Child Dream is an
affirmative work that deserves to be seen outside Israel.
The production celebrates the 35th anniversary of Israeli Opera; it further
marks the 10th anniversary of Hanoch Levin’s death and the centennial of
the founding of Tel Aviv.