Recently in Performances
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
Each March France's splendid Opéra de Lyon mounts a cycle of operas that speak to a chosen theme. Just now the theme is Mémoires -- mythic productions of famed, now dead, late 20th century stage directors. These directors are Klaus Michael Grüber (1941-2008), Ruth Berghaus (1927-1996), and Heiner Müller (1929-1995).
The latest instalment of Wigmore Hall’s ambitious two-year project, ‘Schubert: The Complete Songs’, was presented by German tenor Christoph Prégardien and pianist Julius Drake.
On March 10, 2017, San Diego Opera presented an unusual version of Georges Bizet’s Carmen called La Tragédie de Carmen (The Tragedy of Carmen).
For his farewell production as director of opera at the Royal Opera House, Kasper Holten has chosen Wagner’s only ‘comedy’, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg: an opera about the very medium in which it is written.
The dramatic strength that Stage Director Michael Scarola drew from his Pagliacci cast was absolutely amazing. He gave us a sizzling rendition of the libretto, pointing out every bit of foreshadowing built into the plot.
On February 25, 2017, in Tucson and on the following March 3 in Phoenix, Arizona Opera presented its first world premiere, Craig Bohmler and Steven Mark Kohn’s Riders of the Purple Sage.
During the past few seasons, English Touring Opera has confirmed its triple-value: it takes opera to the parts of the UK that other companies frequently fail to reach; its inventive, often theme-based, programming and willingness to take risks shine a light on unfamiliar repertory which invariably offers unanticipated pleasures; the company provides a platform for young British singers who are easing their way into the ‘industry’, assuming a role that latterly ENO might have been expected to fulfil.
A song cycle within a song symphony - Matthias Goerne's intriuging approach to Mahler song, with Marcus Hinterhäuser, at the Wigmore Hall, London. Mahler's entire output can be described as one vast symphony, spanning an arc that stretches from his earliest songs to the sketches for what would have been his tenth symphony. Song was integral to Mahler's compositional process, germinating ideas that could be used even in symphonies which don't employ conventional singing.
On February 21, 2017, San Diego Opera presented Giuseppe Verdi’s last composition, Falstaff, at the Civic Theater. Although this was the second performance in the run and the 21st was a Tuesday, there were no empty seats to be seen. General Director David Bennett assembled a stellar international cast that included baritone Roberto de Candia in the title role and mezzo-soprano Marianne Cornetti singing her first Mistress Quickly.
In Neil Armfield’s new production of Die Zauberflöte at Lyric Opera of Chicago the work is performed as entertainment on a summer’s night staged by neighborhood children in a suburban setting. The action takes place in the backyard of a traditional house, talented performers collaborate with neighborhood denizens, and the concept of an onstage audience watching this play yields a fresh perspective on staging Mozart’s opera.
Patricia Racette’s Salome is an impetuous teenage princess who interrupts the royal routine on a cloudy night by demanding to see her stepfather’s famous prisoner. Racette’s interpretation makes her Salome younger than the characters portrayed by many of her famous colleagues of the past. This princess plays mental games with Jochanaan and with Herod. Later, she plays a physical game with the gruesome, natural-looking head of the prophet.
On February 17, 2017 Pacific Opera Project performed Gaetano Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore at the Ebell Club in Los Angeles. After that night, it can be said that neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night can stay this company from putting on a fine show. Earlier in the day the Los Angeles area was deluged with heavy rain that dropped up to an inch of water per hour. That evening, because of a blown transformer, there was no electricity in the Ebell Club area.
There has been much reconstruction of Marseille’s magnificent Opera Municipal since it opened in 1787. Most recently a huge fire in 1919 provoked a major, five-year renovation of the hall and stage that reopened in 1924.
With her irresistible cocktail of spontaneity and virtuosity, Cecilia
Bartoli is a beloved favourite of Amsterdam audiences. In triple celebratory
mode, the Italian mezzo-soprano chose Rossini’s La Cenerentola,
whose bicentenary is this year, to mark twenty years of performing at the
Concertgebouw, and her twenty-fifth performance at its Main Hall.
Matthew Rose and Gary Matthewman Winterreise: a Parallel Journey at the Wigmore Hall, a recital with extras. Schubert's winter journey reflects the poetry of Wilhelm Müller, where images act as signposts mapping the protagonist's psychological journey.
Donizetti’s Anna Bolena, composed in 1830, didn’t make it to Lisbon until 1843 when there were 14 performances at its magnificent Teatro São Carlos (opened 1793), and there were 17 more performances spread over the next two decades. The entire twentieth century saw but three (3) performances in this European capital.
08 Feb 2011
Don Pasquale, New York
Witty and airy as an after-dinner anecdote over biscuits and cognac, Don
Pasquale (1844) is, unlikely as it may seem, almost the last opera Donizetti
completed before his descent into the madness of tertiary syphilis.
He was 47,
managing opera houses in Vienna and Paris, introducing new talents like Verdi,
and could still turn out melodies to beat the band—so to speak—with
ever more of a nod to tight scripts and psychological subtleties. With Rossini
in retirement, Bellini dead, Verdi a tyro and Mercadante about to withdraw into
academe, Donizetti was the most popular Italian composer in the world. Who
knows where this would have led him had his career gone on (as Verdi’s,
Mercadante’s, Pacini’s, Meyerbeer’s, Auber’s all did)
till he was 65? Would he have composed operas for St. Petersburg, Berlin,
London and New York? Can we doubt it?
Given the proper performers (Donizetti’s operas, even more than most,
depend on the performer to put them over), Don Pasquale remains almost
irresistible. The Met has had great success with Otto Schenk’s moderately
updated production (O’Hearn-Merrill’s was better, funnier,
lighter), and it is clear from last Friday’s performance that the
touch-ups required for last fall’s HDTV movie theater broadcast have made
it more stage-ready than ever. James Levine, in the pit, seemed especially to
enjoy himself but the entire cast is infectiously frolicsome.
I had quibbles, however, with some of the singers: all good, but some a
little graceless in their approach to this pearl-icing confection. Anna
Netrebko is a prima donna, and her voice has gotten steadily larger and thicker
while losing a top note or two. This makes her a good candidate for Anna
Bolena, for example, a Donizetti role she is singing in its Met premiere next
season, and even likelier as Bellini’s Sonnambula or Giulietta, in both
of which roles she has been broadcast from Vienna. But the voice’s
thickness, its inability to lighten up, is uncomfortable in a Norina. The lady
must be laughing all the time, or we are disinclined to forgive her rather
calculated assault on the wealth of the title character. Reri Grist, my first
Met Norina, floated about the stage, almost pirouetting around a lovably
flummoxed Fernando Corena, and the instant of her slap, the moment when she
goes too far and knows it, was an instant transformation not merely in the
music but in her attitude, as she pulled her hands to her cheeks in horror at
what she’d done, and a genuine personality was displayed—as also
affection for the old man. Netrebko can no longer manage that lightness, that
speediness, and she cannot manage the top notes of her runs, which rise
prettily only to stop short every time. (What is that note? D? She hasn’t
even got a D?) The glittering final waltz did not glitter or twirl; Netrebko
offered it … dutifully. Ljuba Petrova, who sang one performance of the
opera here during the present production’s first season, was rather more
what we are looking for: Not a dramatic prima donna but an old-fashioned canary
coloratura whose charm and wit match her voice. And she had all the high
John Del Carlo as the title role and Anna Netrebko as Norina
Ernesto was sung by Barry Banks, whose voice has also changed over the
years, from the spectacular instrument of the Flute/Thisbe in the Met’s
Midsummer Night’s Dream and the heroic Oreste in Ermione that amazed New
York. His legato line no longer flows comfortably; it is a tolerable but
charmless substitute for the proper tenor elegance.
Buffo basses can get by for years with far less voice than John Del Carlo
still possesses. He wittily deploys his great height and bulk and mugs in the
very finest fettle. You can’t have Don Pasquale without a Pasquale, and
the Met is right to hang on to this one.
The star of the show for dapper farce-performance, suave vocalism and
bring-down-the-house sex appeal was Mariusz Kwiecien as Dr. Malatesta. There is
nothing to object to in his singing (he doesn’t scream in this opera, as
he tends to in Lucia or L’Italiana) or his scampering or his appeal,
except that this is Dr. Malatesta and the opera is called Don Pasquale and the
lovers are Ernesto and Norina. Why is the doctor the one we wait for, listen
to, watch on stage? Most Malatestas “feed” their Norinas (without
picking them up and tossing them about like throw pillows), accompany their
Pasquales, take a line in the concerted passages. The character is a catalyst,
not the focus of the opera, but Otto Schenk has got nothing so wrong as
building this character up. If Malatesta is the center of attention, and has
such a rich relationship with Norina … why do we need the tenor at all?
He fades into the woodwork if Malatesta does not.
Mariusz Kwiecien as Dr. Malatesta and John Del Carlo in the title role
But all these objections seemed to occur to few others in the audience last
Friday, who all seemed to be tickled that they were having such fun, enjoying
such a sparkling score in such an animated, Broadway-worthy performance,
without having to drop a tear or think a thought at all. And isn’t that
the sort of pleasure farce is supposed to provide?