25 Apr 2012
La Fille du Regiment, Royal Opera
The regiment marches onwards!
Thomas Larcher’s Second Symphony (written 2015-16) here received its United Kingdom premiere, its first performance having been given by the Vienna Philharmonic and Semyon Bychkov in June this year. A commission from the Austrian National Bank for its bicentenary, it is nevertheless not a celebratory work, instead commemorating those refugees who have met their deaths in the Mediterranean Sea, ‘expressing grief over those who have died and outrage at the misanthropy at home in Austria and elsewhere’.
One of the initiatives for the community at the Lucerne Festival is the ‘40 min’ series. A free concert given before the evening’s main event that ranges from chamber music to orchestral rehearsals.
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 Hitchcockian provocations.
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.
The regiment marches onwards!
Having conquered operatic stages in Europe and the US during the past five years, Laurent Pelly’s Tyrolean troopers/troupers have tramped back to London, with a sway and a swagger; the company’s stalwarts demonstrate their stamina while some of the leaders take a breather and make way for new recruits.
In particular, Natalie Dessay has resigned from the brigade. In 2010, on the occasion of the first ROH revival, I remarked that the role “is fast becoming a signature role — and indeed it is hard to imagine this production without Dessay”. However, Patrizia Ciofi more than proved me wrong: lacking Dessay’s manic agitation — a gamine hyperactivity that was often achieved at the expense of vocal finesse — Ciofi’s Marie is an altogether more rounded, and composed, character: an energetic, at times unreasonable adolescent, yes, but also a burgeoning young woman with hopes and dreams with which we can identify. Ciofi’s diction at times lacks lucidity; and her wide vibrato — especially at the top where it frequently forces the pitch upwards — is unfortunate in more sustained, ensemble passages.
Ann Widdecombe as La Duchesse De Crackentorp and Donald Maxwell as Hortensius
But, Ciofi has the high tessitura and breathtaking coloratura easily under her belt — or should I say braces — and has a rich, creamy tone. Hers is a Marie who makes us laugh and cry. Whether wobbling determinedly across the stage, buried beneath laundry mountains, or leaping aloft a potato bucket to entertain the troops, or being violently hoisted upside down or horizontal as she is ‘abducted’ by her newly found aunt, Ciofi retained her equanimity. Overall, she may lack some of Dessay’s hard-hitting punch but hers is a more genuine bel canto idiom.
Colin Lee has taken progressive but unceasing strides to the front lines: as Juan Diego’s understudy in 2007, he shared the role in 2010 and now stepped into the full glare of the spotlight. Certainly Lee has the vocal gifts and musical temperament to dispatch the infamous high Cs in ‘A mes amis’ — the last relished and sustained to substantial applause. And, in the yodelling leaps he revealed a heroic timbre to counter his previous hapless, bumpkin-esque persona, revealing the sincerity of Tonio’s affections. Although Lee may not possess the physical and vocal appeal of his predecessor in this production, he does have a confident, controlled elegance: his superbly shaped, long, legato lines pay detailed, intelligent attention to phrasing, and the effect is complemented by a focused vibrato, which was put to superb effect in his tender declaration of love, the Act 2 aria, ‘Pour me rapprocher de Marie’.
Returning as the Marquise de Birkenfield, Ann Murray relished the comic potential of her partnership with Donald Maxwell’s emasculated Hortensius. Her Act 1 account of the loss of her sister’s child is in danger of taking on an air of Miss Prism-esque farce — one half expects Lady Bracknell to pop up pompously pronouncing about perambulators and handbags. Indeed, one of the disadvantages of repetition is that wry comedy can become brutish slapstick: more Loony Tunes than Napoleonic rom-com. That said, as in 2010 Murray’s ‘singing lesson’ with Marie and Sulpice produced some of the finest musical and theatrical moments in the performance. And, Alan Opie’s Sulcipe was the warm embodiment of paternal indulgence — even when his feisty ‘daughter’ disowns him and declares her intent to find a regiment of ‘nicer daddies’.
Patrizia Ciofi as Marie and Alan Opie as Sulpice Pingot
Stepping into Dawn French’s shoes as the Duchesse de Crackentorp, Ann Widdicome shares little with her predecessor except her girth — or rather, French’s former girth, given that the latter has recently revealed a new svelte figure. Hot from her Strictly and panto successes, Widdicome is clearly riding a popularist wave — rather surprising for one who made her name as a bastion of Tory/Victorian principled intolerance. However, politics aside, those who witnessed Widdicome’s Strictly ‘triumph’ will be aware that rhythm is not one of her fortes; she possesses none of French’s insouciant comic timing or improvisatory invention. Indeed, it even seemed quite a challenge for her to remember her lines. That said, self-referential surtitles — a bellowing ‘Order, Order!’, and many Strictly references — raised hilarity among the audience, so presumably the ROH management consider this casting well done. I probably deserve censure for failing to appreciate Widdicome’s willingness to laugh at herself and her ability to add to the frivolous fun.
Most pleasingly, the chorus are truly regimented, kept on a tight rein vocally and visually, relishing the mixture of musical self-discipline and the threat of dramatic — and military — mishap.
There is a lot of dialogue to get through, and thus the staging and visual appeal plays an important role in sustaining the audience’s attention: Chantal Thomas’s cartographical collage is both witty and engaging, while the distorted perspective of the Marquise’s château in Act 2 emphasises the bizarre nature of the dramatic development. Balletic dusting routines and a coup de théâtre tank for Tonio’s rescue mission help to overcome any potential dramatic longeurs.
Conductor Yves Abel leads the regimental company on a careful but precise campaign. There was much lovely playing from the ROH orchestra: in the introduction the horns were wonderfully warm and touching, complemented by well-shaped, emotive woodwind and string sectional playing. But, Abel’s tempi were, on the whole, rather slow and conservative — not quite right for the wild abandon on stage; and, he seemed to feel the need to signpost every comic moment with a knowing gesture.
Many chuckles derived from Agathe Mélinand’s surtitles. Indeed, the current Eurozone tensions gave an added frisson to the notion of an Italian soprano cast as a French girl, mangling an Italian aria, written by an Italian for a nineteenth-century French audience, performed in franglais-laden production, directed by a Frenchman, and translated for an English audience.
Ann Murray as La Marquise De Berkenfeld and Patrizia Ciofi as Marie
In this context, the contemporary reception of Donizetti’s work is interesting: only two major composers of the age, Mendelssohn and Verdi, genuinely admired him, the former professing, in response to criticism of La fille, “I am afraid I like it. I think it very pretty — it is so merry! Do you know, I should like to have written it myself”. But others, notably Bellini and Berlioz, were less charitable, perhaps in awe and afraid of Donizetti’s prodigious output and adaptability. Indeed, Berlioz accused Donizetti “of treating us like a conquered country; one can no longer speak of the opera houses of Paris, but only of those of M. Donizetti”.
Pelly’s winning production has similarly conquered foreign stages, and there are undoubtedly many deserved victories ahead.