11 Dec 2010
Cecilia Bartoli at the Barbican Centre, London
Cecilia Bartoli is something of a phenomenon, capable of attracting an enthusiastic capacity crowd.
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.
Two men, one woman. Both men worshipped and enshrined her in their music. The younger man was both devotee of and rival to the elder.
This Cosi fan tutte concludes the Salzburg Festival's current Mozart / DaPonte cycle staged by Sven-Eric Bechtolf, the festival's head of artistic planning.
Cecilia Bartoli is something of a phenomenon, capable of attracting an enthusiastic capacity crowd.
You sense that many people would be happy to listen to her whatever the repertoire. So, it was heartening to find that for her Barbican Centre concert, Bartoli devoted so much time and care to Handel’s operatic output and generating such enthusiasm for material which can still be regarded as specialist.
After exploring the life and work of Maria Malibran and the music written in Italy for the castrati, Cecilia Bartoli was back on more familiar territory at her concert at the Barbican Centre, London on Wednesday 8th December. She sang a sequence of arias from Handel’s Italian operas including substantial extracts from Giulio Cesare with Argentinian counter-tenor Franco Fagioli, accompanied by the Basel Chamber Orchestra.
Handel’s major operas were written for some of the greatest singers of the day; great talents can articulate the drama within music and present the emotion behind the showers of notes. Technically Bartoli is amazing, if idiosyncratic, but her greatest strength is neither as a technician nor as a stylist (thought she is strong in both these areas). Where she excels is in telling a story and drawing the listener in.
When not singing her stage manner was a little too winsome for my taste. But when the music started she was transformed. Rarely have I been at a recital where each aria was so strongly presented with its own character. For the opening sequence, the overture and two of Armida’s arias from Rinaldo she was transformed into the sorceress, her musical gestures matched by flashing eyes and dramatic arm movements.
This drama was then contrasted with a light bright aria from Lotario, a charming simile aria where Handel’s plays with the text (about a little boat in the breeze on the ocean) by adding running passages in the music.
The orchestra then played the Allegro from Veracini’s Overture No. 6 in G minor. Veracini was a violinist, contemporary of Handel, who came to London and had some success with his concerts. He also ventured into the operatic sphere, with less success, though his operatic version of As You Like It sounds intriguing.
Bartoli then returned with “Ah! Mio cor” from Alcina, sung with great power but also a strong sense of line. In this aria, Bartoli presented Alcina as a quicksilver, captivating woman and you wanted to hear more of her in the role. Her mercurial take on the aria was in fascinating contrast to Inga Kalna’s account of it at the recent complete performance of Alcina at the Barbican.
The orchestra then played two short overtures by Porpora, another contemporary and rival of Handel’s. Both from cantatas written late in his career after he had left London. Full of dramatic contrasts and striking orchestrations, they seemed effective preludes rather then works in their own right.
In “M’adora l’idol mio” from Teseo, Bartoli was paired brilliantly with solo oboe, the pair creating a sparkling duet partnership in the complex passage-work in the aria. Whilst it would be fascinating to hear Bartoli as the sorceress Medea from this opera, her account of this aria for the opera’s heroine Agilea was everything that it should be. But she turned to another evil sorceress, Melissa from Amadigi di Gaula for the closing item in part one, “Destero dall’empia Dite” in which Melissa threatens to raise every fury from hell, with the help of solo oboe and trumpet. Another bravura showpiece which Bartoli turned into a mini drama.
Both this and the preceding item were performed with recitative .I think this makes all the difference to a baroque aria and could have wished that Bartoli had included more; she is after all Italian and her was with the words is vivid.
Bartoli’s Cleopatra, a role which she has sung on stage, was richly coloured and fascinatingly varied, giving us a tantalising glimpse of what her performance of the full role might be like. “V’adoro pupille” was erotic but aristocratic, though it was a shame that the accompaniment lacked Handel’s full orchestration here. “Se pieta” was perfectly judged, showcasing Bartoli’s marvellous way with line, musical and dramatically involving. Finally “Da tempeste” was all that you could imagine, brilliant, charming and vivid.
Fagioli’s Cesare was not quite yet in the same league. He has an attractive, high counter-tenor voice with a strong vibrato and quite a feminine cast. His voice lacks the edge which some counter-tenors have and this was something that I missed in this music. “Va tacito” was superbly sung with fine solo horn playing, but lacked that element of danger which needs to underlay the music. His voice seemed too soft grained for the dramatics of “Al lamp dell’armi” but he did interpolate some superb high notes in the da capo. But the lyric beauty of “Aure, deh, per pieta” suited his voice perfectly. Finally Bartoli and Fagioli joined a lively performance of Cesare and Cleopatra’s duet from the opera.
This was a long and generous programme with Bartoli singing 8 substantial arias plus duet. In response to the enthusiasm of the audience at the end we were treated to 3 encores, one from each singer and a duet from Rinaldo.
Bartoli’s choice of arias seemed to highlight two particular ways she has of performing baroque music. Lyrical music was sung with gloriously long lines, floated beautifully and emphasising high quietness. There were moments which reminded me of Caballe’s habit of opening recitals by singing a group of arie antiche with the music placed high in the voice and floated in a glorious pianissimo. There was something of this showing off in the way Bartoli placed many of the high lying passages. In contrast passage-work was sung in her distinctive, robust manner. This is something you either love or hate, the way that her intense, vibrato laden voice moves round the running passages at high speed creating a remarkable, and distinctive effect. I must confess that on disc I have found this sometimes rather difficult to take, but that heard live the effect was less disturbing and I could relax and appreciate the artistry that was going into the performance.
The Basel Chamber Orchestra, leader Julia Schröder performed without conductor, a nice sized group with 18 string players. From the first notes of the overture to Rinaldo they gave the music a fresh, crisp, newly minted feel. All the solo instrumental parts were superbly played and we even got a wind machine in the opening aria. The group were far more than just support and made themselves fine partners in Bartoli’s performances.
Bartoli held the audience spellbound for this long programme of baroque arias, something not every singer could do. All I wish for now is that we could hear her in a complete opera.