Recently in Performances
With its outrageous staging demands, you sometimes wonder why opera companies want to produce Verdi’s Aida. But the piece is about far more than pharaohs, pyramids and camels.
Given the enduring resonance and impact of the magnificent visual aesthetic of Visconti’s 1971 film of Thomas Mann’s novella, opera directors might be forgiven for concluding that Britten’s Death in Venice does not warrant experimentation with period and design, and for playing safe with Edwardian elegance, sweeping Venetian vistas and stylised seascapes.
If La Rondine (The Swallow) is a less-admired work than rest of the mature Puccini canon, you wouldn’t have known it by the lavish production now lovingly staged by Opera Theatre of Saint Louis.
Few companies have championed new or neglected works quite as fervently and consistently as the industrious Opera Theatre of Saint Louis.
For Opera Theatre of Saint Louis, “everything old is new again.”
Why would an American opera company devote its resources to the premiere of an opera by an Italian composer? Furthermore a parochially Italian story?
Berlioz’ Les Troyens is in two massive parts — La prise de Troy and Troyens à Carthage.
On Saturday evening June 13, 2015, Los Angeles Opera presented Dog Days, a new opera with music by David T. Little and a text by Royce Vavrek. In the opera adopted from a story of the same name by Judy Budnitz, thirteen-year-old Lisa tells of her family’s mental and physical disintegration resulting from the ravages of a horrendous war.
Audiences at the Teatro alla Scala in Milan first saw Madama Butterfly on February 17, 1904. It was not the success it is these days, and Puccini revised it before its scheduled performances in Brescia.
Opera Philadelphia is a very well-managed opera company with a great vision. Every year it presents a number of well-known “warhorse” operas, usually in the venerable Academy of Music, and a few more adventurous productions, usually in a chamber opera format suited to the smaller Pearlman Theater.
Written in 1783, Giovanni Paisiello’s Il Barbiere di Siviglia reigned for three decades as one of Europe’s most popular operas, before being overshadowed forever by Rossini’s classic work.
The Princeton Festival has established a reputation for high-quality summer opera. In recent years works by Handel, Britten, Rachmaninoff, Stravinsky, Wagner and Gershwin have been performed at Matthews Theater on Princeton University campus: a 1100-seat auditorium with good sight-lines though a somewhat dry and uneven acoustic.
Die Entführung aus dem Serail was Mozart’s ﬁrst great public success in Vienna, and it became the composer’s most oft performed opera during his lifetime.
The Ensemble for the Romantic Century offered a thoughtful and well-curated evening in their production of The Sorrows of Young Werther, which is part theatrical performance and part art song concert.
This was an adventurous double bill of two ‘quasi-operas’ by Hans Werner Henze, performed by young singers who are studying on the postgraduate Opera Course at the Guildhall School of Music and Drama.
High brick walls, a cavernous space, entered via a narrow passage just off a London thoroughfare: Village Underground in Shoreditch is probably not that far removed from the venue in which Henry Purcell’s Dido and Aeneas was first performed — whether that was Josiah Priest’s girl’s school in Chelsea or the court of Charles II or James II.
Hats off to Garsington for championing once again some criminally neglected Strauss. I overheard someone there opine, ‘Of course, you can understand why it isn’t done very often.’
Mozart and Da Ponte’s Cosi fan tutte provides little in the way of background or back story for the plot, thus allowing directors to set the piece in a variety settings.
Based on a play, Chrysomania (The Passion for Money), by
the Russian playwright Prince Alexander Shokhovskoy, Pushkin’s short story The Queen of Spades is, in the words of one literary critic, ‘a sardonic commentary on the human condition’.
Time was when many felt compelled to ‘make allowances’ for ‘smaller’ companies. Now, more often than not, the contrary seems to be the case, instead apologising for their elder and/or larger siblings: ‘But of course, it is far more difficult for House X, given the conservatism of its moneyed audience,’ as if House X might not actually attract a different, more intellectually curious audience by programming more interesting works.
05 Oct 2012
Cecilia Bartoli Comes, Divides and Conquers
Cleopatra, one of few female seductresses in operatic history to emerge not only alive but empowered in the final act, is a fitting role for Cecilia Bartoli in her first season as artistic director of the Salzburg Whitsun Festival.
She has assembled a dynamite new production of Handel’s
Giulio Cesare in Egitto, which premiered in May and returned to the
Summer Festival, with the early music ensemble Il Giardino Armonico
under the Italian singer’s old friend Giovanni Antonini alongside a
handpicked cast and the French-Dutch directing team Moshe Leiser/Patrice
Caurier. The opera, which premiered at the King’s Theater in 1724, was
one of Handel’s most popular in its time and still stands out from his
other operas for its stylistic variety and gripping drama. A libretto by Nicola
Francesco Haym adapts the story of Caesar’s amorous and political
alliance with Cleopatra after his arrival in Egypt in 48-47 BC but changes
historical details freely. He also packs in a high concentration of da capo
arias in keeping with the taste of Londoners in the 18th century.
Handel’s writing for Cleopatra includes some of his most beloved
numbers, and Bartoli meets expectations in this production (seen at the Haus
für Mozart on August 27) with natural charisma and authority. Although her
giggling first entrance bordered on kitsch in Leiser and Caurier’s bold
vision of a modern-day Egypt occupied by the European Union, she managed to
pull off their tongue-in-cheek direction as she pranced onstage in a leopard
jacked and boots during her first aria “Non disperar, chi sa?,”
playing with her unrivalled technique to manipulate coloratura passages for
clear dramatic purpose. This ability made itself most apparent in the firework
runs and carefully timed turns of “Dal Tempesta,” sung under an oil
tower as the future pharaoh resolved her energy anew in the third act. Bartoli
amused without affectation as a disguised servant, teasing the blue-suited
bureaucrat, Caesar (Andreas Scholl) after her aria “V’adoro,
pupille” in which takes off on a missile. Her slow aria “Piangero
la sorte mia,” which she sings in captivity by her ruthless brother,
Ptolomeo (Christoph Dumaux), brimmed with devastated emotion as she spun out
silver threads of coloratura
Scholl, who sings as many arias as his female counterpart, impressed equally
with the clear timbre and refined phrasing of countertenor as well as his
caricature-like dramatic portrayal of the role. “Dall’ondoso
periglio,” in which the Roman emperor prays to God to be reunited with
the woman for whom he has grown so much affection, featured pearly cascades and
pianissimi that floated sumptuously to the back of the theatre. The singing of
acclaimed mezzo Anne Sofie von Otter was a model of legato and inner expression
as Cornelia, the widow of Pompeo whom Ptolomeo has beheaded. Her chemistry with
the rising star Philippe Jaroussky in the role of Cornelia’s son, Sestus,
who slays the Egyptian pharaoh in revenge, was as touching as the musical
polish they both brought to every moment onstage. Jarsoussky revealed
impeccable taste in the ornamentation of the da capo to his aria “Cara
speme, questo core.”
The voice of Dumaux was slightly less penetrating, but he gave a powerful
account of his aria “Domero la tua fierezza” in which he declares
that he will curb Cleopatra’s pride, his rival for the throne. He also
executed some very athletic moves in his vindictive aria “Si, spietata,
il tu rigore.” The baritone Ruben Drole was a strong-voiced Achilles,
Ptolomeo’s advisor, and the alto Jochen Kowalski brought comic flair to
the role of Nirena, Cleopatra’s maid. Peter Kalman made for a valiant
Curio, Caesar’s tribune. The idiomatic articulation and richly nuanced
performance of Il Giardino Armonico nearly asserted the ensemble as a
character in its right. Antonini maintains a strong bass that nevertheless
allows every instrument to sing. The musicians cried with Bartoli in her
pleading aria “Se pieta di me non senti.”
Leiser and Caurier also deserve much credit for a staging that ingeniously
updates the mix of comedy and tragedy in Handel’s opera, casting a
critical eye toward modern European politics while allowing the singers to
indulge in just the right amount of slapstick. I found myself laughing with the
production rather than at it even through the most gregarious of gestures, when
as when Caesar is given a pair of 3D glasses during the prelude to
“V’adoro, pupille,” casting Cleopatra’s appearance as a
scene within a scene. The burning tires, Christmas-lit oil tower, and final
scene of a tank rolling onto the recreation of a cobblestoned street in
Salzburg (sets by Christian Fenouillat) made for a biting but riotously amusing
commentary on the current state of affairs. Even the dancing soldiers
(choreography by Beate Vollack), whose classical moves contrasted paradoxically
with their rifles, were perfectly in place. Costumes by Agostino Cavalca
reflected the imaginative scope of the directors, with corn rows for Ptolomeo
and a series of sexy costumes for Cleopatra in which the Intendantin still
managed to preserve her class.
Click here for cast and production information.