Subscribe to
Opera Today

Receive articles and news via RSS feeds or email subscription.


facebook-icon.png


twitter_logo[1].gif



9780393088953.png

9780521746472.png

0810888688.gif

0810882728.gif

Recently in Performances

Classical Opera/The Mozartists celebrate 20 years of music-making

Classical Opera celebrated 20 years of music-making and story-telling with a characteristically ambitious and eclectic sequence of musical works at the Barbican Hall. Themes of creation and renewal were to the fore, and after a first half comprising a variety of vocal works and short poems, ‘Classical Opera’ were succeeded by their complementary alter ego, ‘The Mozartists’, in the second part of the concert for a rousing performance of Beethoven’s Choral Symphony - a work described by Page as ‘in many ways the most iconic work in the repertoire’.

Back to Baroque and to the battle lines with English Touring Opera

Romeo and Juliet, Rinaldo and Armida, Ramadès and Aida: love thwarted by warring countries and families is a perennial trope of literature, myth and history. Indeed, ‘Love and war are all one,’ declared Miguel de Cervantes in Don Quixote, a sentiment which seems to be particularly exemplified by the world of baroque opera with its penchant for plundering Classical Greek and Roman myths for their extreme passions and conflicts. English Touring Opera’s 2017 autumn tour takes us back to the Baroque and back to the battle-lines.

Gluck’s Orphée et Eurydice at Lyric Opera of Chicago

Christoph Willibald von Gluck’s Orphée et Eurydice opened the 2017–18 season at Lyric Opera of Chicago.

Michelle DeYoung, Mahler Symphony no 3 London

The Third Coming ! Esa-Pekka Salonen conducted Mahler Symphony no 3 with the Philharmonia at the Royal Festival Hall with Michelle DeYoung, the Philharmonia Voices and the Tiffin Boys’ Choir. It was live streamed worldwide, an indication of just how important this concert was, for it marks the Philharmonia's 34-year relationship with Salonen.

King Arthur at the Barbican: a semi-opera for the 'Brexit Age'

Purcell’s and Dryden’s King Arthur: or the British Worthy presents ‘problems’ for directors. It began life as a propaganda piece, Albion and Albanius, in 1683, during the reign of Charles II, but did not appear on stage as King Arthur until 1691 when William of Orange had ascended to the British Throne to rule as William III alongside his wife Mary and the political climate had changed significantly.

Anne Schwanewilms sings Schreker, Schubert, Liszt and Korngold

On a day when events in Las Vegas cast a shadow over much of the news this was not the most comfortable recital to sit through for many reasons. The chosen repertoire did, at times, feel unduly heavy - and very Germanic - but it was also unevenly sung.

The Life to Come: a new opera by Louis Mander and Stephen Fry

It began ‘with a purely obscene fancy of a Missionary in difficulties’. So E.M. Forster wrote to Siegfried Sassoon in August 1923, of his short story ‘The Life to Come’ - the title story of a collection that was not published until 1972, two years after Forster’s death.

Aida opens the season at ENO

Director Phelim McDermott’s new Aida at ENO seems to have been conceived more in terms of what it will look like rather than what the opera is or might be ‘about’. And, it certainly does look good. Designer Tom Pye - with whom McDermott worked for ENO’s Akhnaten last year (alongside his other Improbable company colleague, costume designer Kevin Pollard) - has again conjured striking tableaux and eye-catching motifs, and a colour scheme which balances sumptuous richness with shadow and mystery.

La Traviata in San Francisco

A beautifully sung Traviata in British stage director John Copley’s 1987 production, begging the question is this grand old (30 years) production the SFO mise en scène for all times.

The Judas Passion: Sally Beamish and David Harsent offer new perspectives

Was Judas a man ‘both vile and justifiably despised: an agent of the Devil, or a man who God-given task was to set in train an event that would be the salvation of Humankind’? This is the question at the heart of Sally Beamish’s The Judas Passion, commissioned jointly by the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment and the Philharmonia Baroque of San Francisco.

Choral at Cadogan: The Tallis Scholars open a new season

As The Tallis Scholars processed onto the Cadogan Hall platform, for the opening concert of this season’s Choral at Cadogan series, there were some unfamiliar faces among its ten members - or faces familiar but more usually seen in other contexts.

Stars of Lyric Opera 2017, Millennium Park, Chicago

As a prelude to the 2017-18 season Lyric Opera of Chicago presented its annual concert, Stars of Lyric Opera at Millennium Park, during the last weekend. A number of those who performed in this event will be featured in roles during the coming season.

Die Zauberflöte at the ROH: radiant and eternal

Watching David McVicar’s 2003 production of Die Zauberflöte at the Royal Opera House - its sixth revival - for the third time, I was struck by how discerningly John MacFarlane’s sumptuous designs, further enhanced by Paule Constable’s superbly evocative lighting, communicate the dense and rich symbolism of Mozart’s Singspiel.

Fantasy in Philadelphia: The Wake World

Composer and librettist David Hertzberg’s magical mystery tour that is The Wake World opened to a cheering sold out audience that was clearly enraptured with its magnificent artistic achievement.

A Mysterious Lucia at Forest Lawn

On September 10, 2017, Pacific Opera Project (POP) presented Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor in a beautiful outdoor setting at Forest Lawn. POP audiences enjoy casual seating with wine, water, and finger foods at each table. General and Artistic Director Josh Shaw greeted patrons in a “blood stained” white wedding suit. Since Lucia is a Scottish opera, it opened with an elegant bagpipe solo calling members of the audience to their seats.

This is Rattle: Blazing Berlioz at the Barbican Hall

Blazing Berlioz' The Damnation of Faust at the Barbican with Sir Simon Rattle, Bryan Hymel, Christopher Purves, Karen Cargill, Gabor Bretz, The London Symphony Orchestra and The London Symphony Chorus directed by Simon Halsey, Rattle's chorus master of choice for nearly 35 years. Towards the end, the Tiffin Boys' Choir, the Tiffin Girls' Choir and Tiffin Children's Choir (choirmaster James Day) filed into the darkened auditorium to sing The Apotheosis of Marguerite, their voices pure and angelic, their faces shining. An astonishingly theatrical touch, but absolutely right.

Moved Takes on Philadelphia Headlines

There‘s a powerful new force in the opera world and its name is O17.

Philly Flute’s Fast and Furious Frills

If you never thought opera could make your eyes cross with visual sensory over load, you never saw Opera Philadelphia’s razzle-dazzle The Magic Flute.

At War With Philadelphia

Enterprising Opera Philadelphia has included a couple of intriguing site-specific events in their O17 Festival line-up.

The Mozartists at the Wigmore Hall

Three years into their MOZART 250 project, Classical Opera have launched a new venture, The Mozartists, which is designed to allow the company to broaden its exploration of the concert and symphonic works of Mozart and his contemporaries.

OPERA TODAY ARCHIVES »

Performances

Angela Meade as Anna Bolena [Photo by Marty Sohl/Metropolitan Opera]
01 Nov 2011

Anna Bolena, Metropolitan Opera

It’s very unusual for the Met these days—or any major opera house, in any era—to present a glossy new production with two different stars in the leading role.

Gaetano Donizetti: Anna Bolena

Anna Bolena: Angela Meade; Giovanna Seymour: Ekaterina Gubanova; Smeton: Tamara Mumford; Percy: Stephen Costello; Henry VIII: Ildar Abdrazakov. Metropolitan Opera Chorus and Orchestra conducted by Marco Armiliato. Performance of October 24.

Above: Angela Meade as Anna Bolena [Photo by Marty Sohl/Metropolitan Opera]

All other photos by Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera

 

Giving seven performances of Donizetti’s Anna Bolena, in its first Met outing, with internationally glamorous Anna Netrebko followed by three more (not just one or two!) with a very different singer, rising bel canto star Angela Meade, a local girl with a large local following, has been a very happy choice. For one thing, this is a huge role in a little-known opera; it was insurance for the house to have a cover available, and any soprano capable of singing it well deserves a few chances to show what she can do. I’d heard what Netrebko’s version on the air from Vienna last spring, then by way of the Met web site’s free player on opening night here, and again by way of the HDTV movie theater showing at the BAMRose cinema in Brooklyn. On October 24, I attended Meade’s second Bolena in the house.

Bolena_Met_2011_01.pngIldar Abdrazakov as Enrico

Anna Bolena is perhaps the longest prima donna role in any of Donizetti’s operas—and Anna may be his longest work, fully four hours of music if uncut. It was his first hit in Milan (and, later, beyond the Alps), composed in 1830 after a busy decade in Naples, the capital of a different country at that time. He was determined to make an impression with a vehicle for Milan’s reigning singing actress, Giuditta Pasta. The role may lack the emotional spectrum of Bellini’s Norma, composed for the same singer a year later, but she had plenty to do: a double aria sortita, three highly charged duets (with mezzo, tenor and bass), a passionate trio, two full-scale ensembles, and a famous mad scene that ranges elaborately from pathos to rage. Canary coloraturas—this is not for you.

Overheard all about me in the crowd at the Met and at BAM: “This is such a wonderful opera! With such lovely music! Why has the Met never done it before?” If beautiful music and thrilling vocal drama were all that mattered, the Met has only scraped the surface of the nineteenth century’s possibilities, to say nothing of the eighteenth. In part, it’s a matter of fashion. By the time the Met was built, in 1883, dramatic coloratura vehicles were largely a thing of the past. Of Donizetti’s dozens of successful serious operas, only Lucia survived the stylistic change wrought by Verdi and his successors. Callas brought Anna Bolena back from a century’s obscurity in 1957, but she didn’t sing it often, bequeathing the La Scala production to Leyla Gencer. Caballé sang it just once, and acknowledged a rare failure. Sutherland did not tackle it till she was fifty-seven, far too late to make much of the character. Souliotis recorded it, unevenly as usual, but the recording has its partisans. Sills was New York’s Anna: she triumphed in it for a couple of seasons at the City Opera. Krassimira Stoyanova sang Bolena in a drastically cut concert version with Eve Queler’s Opera Orchestra of New York, and was spectacular in the raging fioritura of the “Giudici” scene—the opera came to life for me then as it never had before. She has not sung it anywhere since, perhaps because she lacks secure high notes: Anna ranges all over the scale. You might say she sings her head off.

Bolena_Met_2011_02.pngEkaterina Gubanova as Giovanna Seymour

Everyone remembers that Henry VIII wished to be rid of his first wife, Catherine of Aragon, who had not borne him a son, and that the pope’s unwillingness to grant an annulment drove Henry, an opponent of Luther’s Reformation, to renounce papal supremacy. His passion for Anne Boleyn, which was quite genuine (their love letters have been set to music), was at first incidental to his wish to marry anyone capable of giving him a male heir, but Anne, in addition, was part of the clique forwarding Protestant reform. She was a highly attractive, sharp-tongued, neurotic femme fatale, capable of inspiring both passion and hatred, and when her sons, like Catherine’s, did not live (her daughter Elizabeth, of course, did), Henry turned against her brutally. She was accused of assorted adulteries (high treason for a queen), and sent to the block, to her great surprise (no one had beheaded a queen before). That was in 1536. In Italy three centuries later no one gave a hang about Protestant disputes, and the opera boils down to a marriage gone bad and the trap laid by a brutal husband to catch his wife in flagrante duetto. That’s an easy story for any audience to grasp, as is the prima donna unjustly done to death.

Whether Anna ever really loved Henry and if she still does are questions never mentioned in the libretto; this deprives her of a necessary dimension of tragedy (if she did), or exculpates him (if she did not). Perhaps Donizetti felt he had enough plot to set without facing such a question.

David McVicar’s production is large and dark, as if one look at the five-story-high stage of the Met overwhelmed any sense of proportion. Getting the proper atmosphere should not require such “authenticity.” I missed the light touch Ming Cho Lee brought to the City Opera’s Tudor trilogy: A tapestry down from the flies, a central playing area, a grand fireplace, an occasional throne or dungeon chamber, and there we had it: Instant Tudor! At the Met, Robert Jones’s sets look like the drearier rooms in a manor of the period—not the ornate court rooms!—and they are two or three times too high. They are vaguely historical backdrops, but they lack the color of backdrops. Jenny Tiramani’s costumes, too, may well be in period—I do not challenge that they are—but surely not everyone wore black and gray at a brilliant Renaissance court. The chorus, homogenous enough in Donizetti anyway, becomes a singing wainscot. The hunting forest, too, is gray, and the triple-arched corridor of the last act is simple to the point of self-effacing. Only the appearance of the swordsman at the end, Anna’s fate, seems to attempt a visual coup, and the music ignores him, focused by this point entirely on Anna.

Bolena_Met_2011_04.pngStephen Costello as Lord Percy and Keith Miller as Lord Rochefort

Anna Netrebko has a large and beautiful voice and can be a most affecting actress, but her voice never seems as at home in Italian music as it did when she sang Russian roles like Ludmila and Natasha. In bel canto, she suffers from imperfect agility and a nasal delivery that does not breathe with the music. The greatest bel canto artists school themselves to breathe in exactly the phrases the composers wrote, so that the melody, ornamented or not, becomes a melodious kind of speech, a vernacular poetry. I suspect Russian singers are trained to breathe differently in their own ancient church-based tradition, and very few of them escape it when singing western music, however beautiful the instrument itself. This is my problem with Galina Vishnevskaya’s Puccini, Dmitri Hvorostovsky’s Verdi and Ekaterina Gubanova’s Donizetti. A few Russian divas, such as Olga Borodina and Ljuba Petrova, seem to have surmounted this awkwardness; Netrebko has not. Too, I find her affect too heavy for Bolena, and on the Opening Night broadcast she was under pitch for much of the long night. This may be attributed to the strenuous rehearsal process and first-night jitters: By the HDTV broadcast nearly three weeks later, she was on pitch throughout, her voice in charge and easily produced. She has always been a fine actress, and a queen in distress suits her very well. Though I enjoyed her Vienna broadcasts of Bellini’s Giulietta and Amina very much, as sheer, lovely sound, my personal preference would be to hear this sensuous instrument in a more rewarding vehicle, such as Puccini’s Manon Lescaut. That’s a role that rewards a heavy, beautiful voice, and when did we last hear such a soprano attempt it? She’d be glorious.

I have heard Angela Meade as Elvira in Verdi’s Ernani, Rossini’s Semiramide and Bellini’s Norma. The voice is sizable over an exceptional range, but she wields it prettily, with genuine trills, a lovely legato and soft but clear singing in the higher ranges that falls on the ear with special grace. She is a rather stout woman, neither a beauty nor a natural actress, but as Bolena, who must present her tormented emotions over nearly four hours, she displayed impressive theatrical skill. In Act I, she was regal and apprehensive, moving with a dignified posture; after her accusation and trial, she seemed a much older woman, aged and bent by the storm. Her madness was distracted and appealing. She did not imitate the glamorous Netrebko’s highly personal gestures and expressions (the reminiscent smile, the turn away from the audience for the final note), but made the role her own within the restrictions of an existing production and cast.

Bolena_Met_2011_05.pngTamara Mumford as Smeton

As a singer, Meade takes a while to warm up. In the first act, she seemed rather to hover over the notes; there was no depth to them, and she seemed merely to touch the highest notes and drop them. By the lengthy duet with Stephen Costello’s Percy, however—Donizetti’s Act II, but the last scene of Act I at the Met, where the opera is given with just one intermission—and the great “Giudici” ensemble that follows, she had her musical feet on the floor. Her duet with Ekaterina Gubanova’s Jane Seymour brought the thrilling days of Sutherland and Horne to mind. As Meade demonstrated in Ernani, she knows how to preserve her resources through a long night. By the long concluding scene, she was in her element, tremendously affecting in the sweet singing of “Al dolce guidami,” and then, with a terrific drop to almost threatening depths that exploded in the anger of “Coppia iniqua,” her final denunciation, a dramatic coloratura at last. The soprano who cannot make this scene her own is not a proper Bolena; Netrebko, too, was fully in charge here.

Gubanova is a Russian mezzo in the grand tradition of Arkhipova and Obastzova, but the Met can’t seem to figure out what to do with her—or such others of the ilk as Diadkova and Smirnova, the latter miscast in Don Carlo. Gubanova is a superb Berlioz Didon (as she has demonstrated at Carnegie Hall under Gergiev) and a superb Gluck Clytemnestre (under Muti in Rome), but she has had some difficulty forcing herself into the molds called for at the Met. To be fair, she only took on the role of Jane Seymour when Elina Garanca, who sang it gorgeously in Vienna, pulled out due to pregnancy, and if her sortita and its ornaments were messy, her duets with King Henry (desperate) and Anna (poignant) had a happy intensity. Her voice mingles well with Meade’s. But I wish they’d stage something Russian for her to sink her palpable artistic teeth into—or Gluck’s Alceste.

Stephen Costello’s once light and liquid tenor is developing grit and strength. This may forfeit some of his airy elegance, but will position him for the forceful tenor roles of later Donizetti, Verdi and Puccini, the basic Italian repertory. He made a handsome, credible figure in the far from credible role of Lord Percy, Anna’s old boyfriend. Slim Tamara Mumford sang another of her plummy performances, with a freer command of line up top than usual, in the trouser role of the importunate minstrel, Smeton. Ildar Abdrazakov was formidable in the somewhat underwritten (no aria) role of King Henry. His dark bass must believably threaten each of the other characters in turn or the plot makes no sense. In the present instance, the quailing of cast and chorus before him was believable. Shaven-headed Keith Miller, such a treat as Zuniga in recent Carmens, was impressive as Anna’s hapless brother, Rochefort.

Marco Armiliato, whose conducting on opening night has been criticized, certainly did not make the score sound shorter than it is, but he was attentive to vocal line and Donizetti’s favorite “British” effect, dark strings underscored by horns, rang out threateningly, gothicly, throughout the night.

John Yohalem

Send to a friend

Send a link to this article to a friend with an optional message.

Friend's Email Address: (required)

Your Email Address: (required)

Message (optional):