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.
24 Apr 2011
It has long been my belief that the problems of the planet would be resolved
(or move on to their next stage) if only the folk of every ethnicity (nation,
faith, historic minority, tribe) would devote their energy to creating
opera—and perhaps theater or dance—out of its musical and mythical
That would certainly calm a lot of people down at any rate. The
Arabs, for example. They’ve grown understandably restive about the way
their societies have been run lately, and with their capacity for narration
(1001 Nights, anybody?) and distinctive musical heritage, opera ought
to be a natural for them. The more cosmopolitan cities of the Arab world have
developed a rich theatrical scene in the last century, and their films and
music-videos imply the cultural jump would not be an awkward one. There’s
a kebab-and-hookah restaurant near me that shows Egyptian music-videos from the
early Nasser years, or so I infer by the length of the ladies’ skirts.
But we’ll have to be quick before Arab culture is swamped (as youtube is
already swamped) with Bollywood-style Arabic videos, of which Lebanon already
produces quite a trove.
Mohammed Fairouz, who is 26 and was educated in London (his biography in the
program is cagey about where exactly he was born), has already prowled much of
the planet, studying instruments from the oud to the didgeridoo, though the
Mimesis Orchestra that played the premiere of his opera, Sumeida’s
Song, in the hall of the Ethical Culture Society last week was made up of
traditional Western instruments with some enhanced percussion. The use to which
Fairouz put this orchestra demonstrates an impressive control of the varied
textures it can produce. He was careful—perhaps unduly so—to avoid
the trap of relying on “Middle Eastern” motifs in
“Western” orchestration, which could have sounded like
Hollywood’s scores for Arabian Nights movies of the fifties, but he
introduced a phrase or two of Middle Eastern-style drumbeat or oboe riff into a
manner more typical of spiky modern borderline tonalities. Middle Eastern-isms
have been explored in considerably greater detail in John Corigliano’s
wind concerti, but that is the very sentimentality that Fairouz evades.
The character of the score across three brief acts (about eighty minutes)
gave every section of the orchestra something interesting to do. Percussion, as
is true with so many modernist works, was full of interest, but the beats were
not for dancing: Rather, they illustrated references in the text to winds, to
vendetta, to railroads. Woodwinds did not mimic Arabian lament but underlined
phrases in the drama. Thunderous low brasses accompanied deadly events in an
international manner. Yet this very avoidance of anything specifically
“Arabian” may have been a mistake: The most affecting moment of the
score, for me, was the last wail of an implacable mother: The soprano’s
voice, shifting through semitones, seemed to imply a mixture of traditional
keening with an uncertainty about her bloodthirst and its consequences that
went well with the fading, uneasy tremolos of the last bars of the opera and
encapsulates the moral of the story.
All this expert orchestration was, unfortunately, not matched by any gift
for libretto-writing. The story, taken without alteration from a classic play by the modern
Egyptian writer Tawfiq al-Hakim, concerns the widowed Asakir, whom we find
awaiting her son’s return from the big city. When his father was murdered
by a rival clan, she smuggled the boy to Cairo, hoping he’d apprentice to
a butcher—in order to learn to use a knife properly. Instead, he went to
college and realized how his rural people have been oppressed. He is 19 now, a
modern man who refuses to consider vendetta—he’d rather organize
the people to improve their dreary lives. His mother, outraged, taunts one of
his cousins into killing her disgrace of a son. The cousin is Sumeida, whose
song, sung twice, signifies first Alwan’s return, then his death.
There are possibilities here, for a librettist of genius, but in the
unaltered play that constitutes the libretto it is rather ploddingly told. It is difficult not to recall such
similarly brutal and elemental stories as those of Cavalleria
Rusticana or Tosca, and how cleverly their librettists slid
back-story into dramatic event. In Sumeida’s Song, everything
is explained at the moment it is said, and none of the music carries us, holds
us melodically, or builds to a satisfying explosion. In eschewing melodramatic
music in a melodramatic tale, Fairouz, like most modern composers, really has
nowhere to turn. His intriguing orchestration is accompaniment, whereas in
opera the music should share the dramatic propulsion. It is not good being told
(as the libretto told us, at several moments) that someone is performing an
aria; either we feel it as an aria, as a statement, as an expression of inner
feeling, or we do not. These arias were indistinguishable from the explicatory
Fairouz’s vocal writing seemed either ungrateful, exploring the
extremes of his prima donna’s range in both directions, or else Jo Ellen
Miller as the murderous Asakir simply wasn’t up to it. Inaudible in the
first act, she pulled some dignified phrases out at as the drama proceeded.
None of the other singers had a fully-formed character to portray, and all were
easily drowned out when the orchestra roused itself, though the composer
politely restrained them whenever some special lyrical message needed to be
Fairouz demonstrated genuine ability and achievement as an orchestral
technician, and he may well have more to offer singers with a more focused text
(he has composed ten song cycles), but nothing about Sumeida’s
Song suggested a mature affinity for opera.