Opening night at the Metropolitan is a gleeful occasion even when the
composer is long gone, but December 1st was an opening for a living composer who
has been making waves around the world and is, gasp, a woman — the second woman
composer ever to have an opera presented at the Met.
For an opera that has never quite made it over the threshold into the ‘canonical’, the adolescent Mozart’s La finta giardiniera has not done badly of late for productions in the UK. In 2014, Glyndebourne presented Frederic Wake-Walker’s take on the eighteen-year-old’s dramma giocoso. Wake-Walker turned the romantic shenanigans and skirmishes into a debate on the nature of reality, in which the director tore off layers of theatrical artifice in order to answer Auden’s rhetorical question, ‘O tell me the truth about love’.
Heading to N.Y.C and D.C. for its annual performances, the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra invited Semyon Bychkov to return for his Mahler debut with the Fifth Symphony. Having recently returned from Vienna with praise for their rendition, the orchestra now presented it at their homebase.
Igor Stravinsky's lost Funeral Song, (Chante funèbre) op 5 conducted by Valery Gergiev at the Mariinsky in St Petersburg This extraordinary performance was infinitely more than an ordinary concert, even for a world premiere of an unknown work.
On Tuesday evening this week, I found myself at The Actors Centre in London’s Covent Garden watching a performance of Unknowing, a dramatization of Schumann’s Frauenliebe und Leben and Dichterliebe (in a translation by David Parry, in which Matthew Monaghan directed a baritone and a soprano as they enacted a narrative of love, life and loss. Two days later at the Wigmore Hall I enjoyed a wonderful performance, reviewed here, by countertenor Philippe Jaroussky with Julien Chauvin’s Le Concert de la Loge, of cantatas by Telemann and J.S. Bach.
Here is one of the next new great conductors. That’s a bold statement,
but even the L.A. Times agrees: Mirga Gražinytė-Tyla’s appointment
“is the biggest news in the conducting world.” But Ms. Mirga
Gražinytė-Tyla will be getting a lot of weight on her shoulders.
Macabre and moonstruck, Schubert as Goth, with Stuart Jackson, Marcus Farnsworth and James Baillieu at the Wigmore Hall. An exceptionally well-planned programme devised with erudition and wit, executed to equally high standards.
On November 20, 2016, Arizona Opera completed its run of Antonín Dvořák’s fairy Tale opera, Rusalka. Loosely based on Hand Christian Andersen’s The Little Mermaid, Joshua Borths staged it with common objects such as dining room chairs that could be found in the home of a child watching the story unfold.
If there was ever any doubt that Puccini’s Manon is on a road to nowhere, then the closing image of Jonathan Kent’s 2014 production of Manon Lescaut (revived here for the first time, by Paul Higgins) leaves no uncertainty.
Many opera singers are careful to maintain an air of political neutrality. Not so mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato, who is outspoken about causes she holds dear. Her latest project, a very personal response to the 2015 terror attacks in Paris, puts her audience through the emotional wringer, but also showers them with musical rewards.
I wonder if Karl Amadeus Hartmann saw something of himself in the young Simplicius Simplicissimus, the eponymous protagonist of his three-scene chamber opera of 1936. Simplicius is in a sort of ‘Holy Fool’ who manages to survive the violence and civil strife of the Thirty Years War (1618-48), largely through dumb chance, and whose truthful pronouncements fall upon the ears of the deluded and oppressive.
For its second opera of the 2016-17 season Lyric Opera of Chicago has staged Gaetano Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor in a production seen at the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino and the Grand Théâtre de Genève.
Akhnaten is the third in composer Philip Glass’s trilogy of operas about people who have made important contributions to society: Albert Einstein in science, Mahatma Gandhi in politics, and Akhnaten in religion. Glass’s three operas are: Einstein on the Beach, Satyagraha, and Akhnaten.
Shakespeare re-imagined for the very Late Baroque, with Bampton Classical Opera at St John's Smith Square. "Shakespeare, Shakespeare, Shakespeare....the God of Our Idolatory". So wrote David Garrick in his Ode to Shakespeare (1759) through which the actor and showman marketed Shakespeare to new audiences, fanning the flames of "Bardolatory". All Europe was soon caught up in the frenzy.
David Little composed his one-man opera, Soldier Songs, ten years ago and the International Festival of Arts & Ideas of New Haven, Connecticut, premiered it in 2011. At San Diego Opera, the fifty-five minute musical presentation and the “Talk Back” that followed it were part of the Shiley dētour Series which is held in the company’s smaller venue, the historic Balboa Theatre.
Jean-Baptiste Lully's Phaeton is rarely heard live in Britain, so this performance with a superlative cast was a special occasion. It was part of the Barbican Hall's continuing series of baroque, and particularly French baroque operas.
Jean-Baptiste Lully: Phaeton
Phaeton: Emiliano Gonzales Toro, Clymene: Ingrid Perruche, Theone/Astree: Isabell Druet, Libye: Sophie Bevan, Epaphus: Andrew Foster-Williams, Merops/Automne, Jupiter: Matthew Brook, Protee/Saturne: Benoit Arnould, Triton/Le Soleil, La Deesse de la Terre: Cyri Auvity, Une Heure/Une Berger egyptienne: Virginie Thomas, Les Talens Lyriques, Namur Chamber Choir, Conductor : Christophe Rousset, Barbican Hall, London
Phaeton was the tenth of Lully’s tragedies lyriques written with librettist Philippe Quinault. The works were ground-breaking, in them Lully effectively created the genre of French opera, synthesizing elements from ballet and drama. Yet composers such as Charpentier and Rameau, seem to have taken the genre to its real heights, and opportunities to hear Lully’s operas live in London are extremely rare. So it was a pleasure to welcome Christophe Rousset and les Talens Lyriques to London’s Barbican Hall on Friday 8 March 2013 for a concert performance of Phaeton.
Phaeton is written in five acts, plus a prologue; the prologue has little relevance to the drama and simply is an excuse to laud Lully’s patron Louis XIV. The plot of the opera is moderately complicated, with many of the cast related to each other or descended from the Gods. The sort of mythical soap opera which was beloved of baroque opera librettists and which, for modern day audiences, rather requires a family tree and a good memory. Essentially it is a moral tale about hubris, and can be seen as a warning to anyone who tries to come close to the Sun’s power (i.e. to Louis himself).
Phaeton is the son of the Sun god Apollo but his not himself a god; Phaeton is, however, very ambitious and not very likeable. Theone is in love with Phaeton, but he is chosen by Merops as the husband for his daughter Libye. Phaeton promptly drops Theone and agrees to marry Libye. However Libye and Epaphus (son of Jupiter) are in love, so an annoyed Epaphus casts aspersions on Phaeton’s parentage. To prove he is the son of Apollo, Phaeton drives his father’s chariot of the sun and burns himself. Also threading through this is Phaeton’s strong relationship to his mother Clymene, who elicits a prophecy from Protee in act which tells her that Phaeton is doomed to die.
Lully had a superb sense of dramatic construction, so that he and Quinault lay all this out in wonderfully flexible recitatives and ariosos interleaved with choruses and dances. Arias are never big, they merge flexibly with the recitative in a way which is in many ways far closer to Monteverdi than Handel. The chorus was far more active in French baroque opera than in Italian, and ballet was essential. What Lully fails to do is make them completely germane to the plot, in the way that Charpentier and Rameau were able to do.
However, a weakness of Lully’s operas is that he was not as strong on musical drama, his characters never really develop and the great musical moments are effectively bon bouches, which would work very well one their own. But the great moments are superb and quite heart wrenching.
Lully’s orchestral writing is not particularly descriptive. So the section where Phaeton drives his father’s chariot and loses control is done mainly in narration and without the sort of large-scale descriptive writing that other later composers might have used.
Rousset’s large and admirable cast were completely in tune with the genre and we were treated to an extremely stylish, vivid and entrancing performance. Some of the singers played two or three roles, so without any element of staging, you had to rather pay close attention. But it was well worth it.
In the title role Emiliano Gonzalez Toro, born in Geneva of Chilean parents, displayed a lovely lyric tenor which did not seem entirely comfortable with the haut-contre tessitura, rendering his performance a little stiff. But then Phaeton is rather unlikeable and, in fact, not the biggest of roles. His greatest moment is a non-singing one, when in act 5 he drives his father’s chariot of the sun across the sky. Something that was re-created using spectacular sets in the original performance.
Ingrid Perruche was profoundly moving as Phaeton’s mother, eliciting a prophecy and then having to deal with the fact that her son is doomed. However I think the stand-out performance came from Isabele Druet as Theone who is in love with Phaeton. Druet brought an edgy expressiveness to her voice which would not suit every role, but here it worked perfectly and served to highlight the thread of Theone’s unhappiness which ran through the opera.
Another thread was the doomed love of Libye, Sophie Bevan, and Epaphus, Andrew Foster-Williams. They had some lovely solo moments, but it was their duets which tugged the heart strings. Bevan was just as moving as Druet, but with a softer grained voice which contrasted and complemented nicely in their duets and dialogues.
Distinguished French haut-contre Cyril Auvity sang a number of roles, notably Phaeton’s father, the Sun, and demonstrated how stylish and moving the art of the haut-contre can be. Matthew Brook was suitably dignified Merops (Libye’s father), as well as doubling Autumn and Jupiter (Epaphus’s father). Virginie Thomas, a member of the Namur Chamber Choir, took a number of smaller roles, singing them all beautifully and blending well with the other singers in duets.
The chorus was kept quite busy, as Lully wrote a substantial part for them. The Namur Chamber Choir was impressively stylish in its performance and imbued its scenes with the requisite amount of drama. You began to realise quite how thrilling it must have seemed, when Lully formed the Academie Royale de Musique, to have sung drama, chorus and dancing brought together in this way.
And there was a lot of dance music. Rousset elicited a lively and vivid performance from his ensemble, but without any stage effects I began to wonder whether Rameau hadn’t don’t all this rather better.
Rousset directed from the harpsichord, conducting the ensemble numbers and playing the harpsichord for the recitatives. There was a second harpsichord for the ensembles, doubling organ and the continuo also included a theorbo, whose player doubled on baroque guitar. I’m not sure if this latter was in period, but it added a lovely texture to some of the dances.
Lully and Quinault constructed a wonderful entertainment which, I think really requires staging. In concert, without the sets and the dancing girls to distract you, there were a few moments when you felt that the drama did sag. But thanks to Rousset’s crisp and sympathetic direction and the stylish performances from singers, choir and orchestra, this was a vivid and lively evening which had some moments of real pathos.