Subscribe to
Opera Today

Receive articles and news via RSS feeds or email subscription.


facebook-icon.png


twitter_logo[1].gif



Plumbago_9780993198359_1.png

9780521746472.png

0810888688.gif

0810882728.gif

Recently in Performances

Eugene Onegin at Seattle

Passion! Pain! Poetry! (but hold the irony . . .)

Pow! Zap! Zowie! Wowie! -or- Arthur, King of Long Beach

If you might have thought a late 17thcentury semi-opera about a somewhat precious fairy tale monarch might not be your cup of twee, Long Beach Opera cogently challenges you to think again.

Philippe Jaroussky and Jérôme Ducros perform Schubert at Wigmore Hall

How do you like your Schubert? Let me count the ways …

Crebassa and Say: Impressionism and Power at Wigmore Hall

On paper this seemed a fascinating recital, but as I was traveling to the Wigmore Hall it occurred to me this might be a clash of two great artists. Both Marianne Crebassa and Fazil Say can be mercurial performers and both can bring such unique creativity to what they do one thought they might simply diverge. In the event, what happened was quite remarkable.

'Songs of Longing and Exile': Stile Antico at LSO St Luke's

Baroque at the Edge describes itself as the ‘no rules’ Baroque festival. It invites ‘leading musicians from all backgrounds to take the music of the Baroque and see where it leads them’.

Richard Jones' La bohème returns to Covent Garden

Richard Jones' production of Puccini's La bohème is back at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden after its debut in 2017/18. The opening night, 10th January 2020, featured the first of two casts though soprano Sonya Yoncheva, who was due to sing Mimì, had to drop out owing to illness, and was replaced at short notice by Simona Mihai who had sung the role in the original run and is due to sing Musetta later in this run.

Don Giovanni at Lyric Opera of Chicago

Mozart’s Don Giovanni returned to Lyric Opera of Chicago in the Robert Falls updating of the opera to the 1930s. The universality of Mozart’s score proves its adaptability to manifold settings, and this production featured several outstanding, individual performances.

Britten and Dowland: lutes, losses and laments at Wigmore Hall

'Of chord and cassiawood is the lute compounded;/ Within it lie ancient melodies'.

Tara Erraught sings Loewe, Mahler and Hamilton Harty at Wigmore Hall

During those ‘in-between’ days following Christmas and before New Year, the capital’s cultural institutions continue to offer fare both festive and more formal.

Prayer of the Heart: Gesualdo Six and the Brodsky Quartet

Robust carol-singing, reindeer-related muzak tinkling through department stores, and light-hearted festive-fare offered by the nation’s choral societies may dominate the musical agenda during the month of December, but at Kings Place on Friday evening Gesualdo Six and the Brodsky Quartet eschewed babes-in-mangers and ding-donging carillons for an altogether more sedate and spiritual ninety minutes of reflection and ‘musical prayer’.

The New Season at the New National Theatre, Tokyo

Professional opera in Japan is roughly a century old. When the Italian director and choreographer Giovanni Vittorio Rosi (1867-1940) mounted a production of Cavalleria Rusticana in Italian in Tokyo in 1917, with Japanese singers, he brought a period of timid experimentation and occasional student performances to an end.

Handel's Messiah at the Royal Albert Hall

For those of us who live in a metropolitan bubble, where performances of Handel's Messiah by small professional ensembles are common, it is easy to forget that for many people, Handel's masterpiece remains a large-scale choral work. My own experiences of Messiah include singing the work in a choir of 150 at the Royal Albert Hall, and the venue's tradition of performing the work annually dates back to the 19th century.

What to Make of Tosca at La Scala

La Scala’s season opened last week with Tosca. This was perhaps the preeminent event in Italian cultural and social life: paparazzi swarmed politicians, industrialists, celebrities and personalities, while almost three million Italians watched a live broadcast on RAI 1. Milan was still buzzing nine days later, when I attended the third performance of the run.

La traviata at Covent Garden: Bassenz’s triumphant Violetta in Eyre’s timeless production

There is a very good reason why Covent Garden has stuck with Richard Eyre’s 25-year old production of La traviata. Like Zeffirelli’s Tosca, it comes across as timeless whilst being precisely of its time; a quarter of a century has hardly faded its allure, nor dented its narrative clarity. All it really needs is a Violetta to sweep us off our feet, and that we got with Hrachuhi Bassenz.

'Aspects of Love': Jakub Józef Orliński at Wigmore Hall

Boretti, Predieri, Conti, Matteis, Orlandini, Mattheson: masters of the Baroque? Yes, if this recital by Polish countertenor Jakub Józef Orliński is anything by which to judge.

Otello at Covent Garden: superb singing defies Warner’s uneven production

I have seen productions of Verdi’s Otello which have been revolutionary, even subversive. I have now seen one which is the complete antithesis of that.

Solomon’s Knot: Charpentier - A Christmas Oratorio

When Marc-Antoine Charpentier returned from Rome to Paris in 1669 or 1670, he found a musical culture in his native city that was beginning to reject the Italian style, which he had spent several years studying with the Jesuit composer Giacomo Carissimi, in favour of a new national style of music.

A Baroque Odyssey: 40 Years of Les Arts Florissants

In 1979, the Franco-American harpsichordist and conductor, William Christie, founded an early music ensemble, naming it Les Arts Florissants, after a short opera by Marc-Antoine Charpentier.

Miracle on Ninth Avenue

Gian Carlo Menotti’s holiday classic, Amahl and the Night Visitors, was the first recorded opera I ever heard. Each Christmas Eve, while decorating the tree, our family sang along with the (still unmatched) original cast version. We knew the recording by heart, right down to the nicks in the LP. Ever since, no matter what the setting or the quality of a performance, I cannot get through it without tearing up.

Detlev Glanert: Requiem for Hieronymus Bosch (UK premiere)

It is perhaps not surprising that the Hamburg-born composer Detlev Glanert should count Hans Werner Henze as one of the formative influences on his work - he did, after all, study with him between 1984 to 1988.

OPERA TODAY ARCHIVES »

Performances

Kate Royal as Pamina and Michael Nagy as Papageno [Photo by Uli Deck/dpa]
11 Apr 2013

Baden’s Flute Goes Barefoot in the Park

For its world class Easter Festival, Baden-Baden mounted a Die Zauberflöte that owed more to the grey penitential doldrums of Lent than to the unbridled jubilance of re-birth.

Baden’s Flute Goes Barefoot in the Park

A review by James Sohre

Above: Kate Royal as Pamina and Michael Nagy as Papageno [Photo by Uli Deck/dpa]

Click here for a recording of the live broadcast via arte.tv

 

More specifically, director Robert Carsen seemed to be channeling Tim Burton’s (The Nightmare Before Christmas) penchant for Grand Guignol as it might be applied to a production of Sondheim’s Into the Woods.

On first glance, set designer Michael Levine has imagined Sarastro’s realm to be a verdant forest that is all realistic projections (courtesy of videographer Martin Eidenberger) and rolling mounds of (slightly singer-dampening) Astro-turf. A series of scrim effects and drops, and a runway around the orchestra pit give eye-pleasing depth and variety to the concept. Mr. Eidenberger contributes several witty video effects, including a projection of trees that gradually get filled by contented birds, and the ominous huge black doors that confront Tamino in the Speaker scene. One notable misfire featured an uncomfortable Pamina’s face projected live and aria-long in an excruciating, stage-filling Cinemascope close-up as Tamino sings of her portrait. Too, there is eventual confusion of the seasons, since we go back and forth from summer to winter and back at will.

The serenity of the lush foliage is offset from the git-go by a macabre newly dug grave that occupies stage left. When Tamino sings of the “dragon” he refers to the mound of dirt and, I presume, death-as-dragon pursuing him (and us all, shades of Lent!). Yet when the ladies later boast of killing the beast, they comically haul out a large stuffed snake with nary a hint of a ‘vanquishing death’ metaphor. But their business with the reptile was at least funny, and humor was in short supply in Mr. Carsen’s interpretation. With a profusion of recent Flute productions, Robert seemed rather to be striving to do something, anything “different.”

Sarastro’s subjects were somber grave-diggers, looking like storm troopers brandishing shovels. Papageno/a was a backpacker (or vagrant) that was indistinguishable from a weary student tourist schlepping their meager life’s belongings from the train station to a youth hostel. Pamina in her demure white frock and Tamino in his 80-s white disco suit, resembled two cleaned up barefoot flower children, in contrast to the elegant-if-unsubtle “evil” of the rather sexy black evening attire of the Queen and her Three Ladies. Petra Reinhardt’s costumes were professional-looking and consistent, even if they were not always a helpful illumination of the characters.

We first encounter the ensemble in modern dress as they advance up the aisles during the overture to encircle the pit on runway and apron as they listen to the orchestra with rapt attention. Are they indeed the chorus? Supers? Unfettered Berlin Phil Groupies? Who knows? As soon as the curtain rises, they scoop up poor Tamino and carry him around the stage on his back as he is ‘chased by the dragon.’ Correction, as he is ‘menaced by the inert mound of earth.’ But they soon drop him like a hot Kartoffel and the prince is left trying to appear frightened of the dirt. This was as dumb as it sounds.

When Papageno and Tamino are first ‘isolated’ they are (re-)discovered on stage descending on ladders suggesting they are beneath the earth. . .except those pesky above-ground trees soon appeared. No matter, for what claimed our attention was a scattering of coffins about the stage, perhaps as product placement to advertise the graveyard scene from this summer’s Don Giovanni. Papagena materializes as a decomposing corpse in bridal dress after she forces open a coffin lid and clambers out. Eew. How could Papageno resist her? And the (non) birdman has no trouble availing himself of a bottle of wine when another burial box is revealed to hold a vintner’s treasure.

For the trials by Fire and Water, the lovers must pass through a gobo-lit field of shroud- encased bodies (the covers are ripped off as the chorus sits up and sings). There are a few savvy innovative touches. It is established in Act Two that the Queen and Sarastro are in fact a loving couple in collusion to enlighten and unite the lovers. And the Three Boys are extremely well used, appearing first in soccer uniforms kicking around a ball (okay, so it ends up in Scene One’s open grave). Later they come dressed identical to Sarastro, Papageno, and (God bless ‘em) even bravely show up barefoot in copies of Pamina’s white dress.

Having accepted the backpacker concept, the bird couple comically pulled out baby clothes from their backpacks during their famous duet. Still, “Magic” was in short supply, and while I admire Robert Carsen and have greatly enjoyed his work on many an occasion, this night I wanted to say “Bob, lighten up, wouldya?” The musical side of the house was another matter

The Berlin Philharmonic remains one of the world’s great orchestras and they did not disappoint. Under the supple leadership of Simon Rattle, the old familiar strengths were always in evidence: effortless ensemble, luminous strings, rich winds, incisive percussion, and solid gold brass. It was hard to believe that the overture could sound “fresh” again but Maestro Rattle managed exactly that with a wonderfully detailed and beautifully layered reading. It has to be said, Rattle indulged in some rubato, allowed some appoggiaturas, and crafted a cadenza or two that were not traditional. While this was interesting enough, such liberties did take the forward steam and rhythmic propulsion out of more than one or two phrases that may have been better off going on their merry way.

Pavol Breslik was a remarkably effective Tamino, indeed he was all one could wish. Mr. Breslik is boyish and handsome, he is a seasoned stage performer, and his sweetly pliant lyric tenor is ideal for the prince. If he occasionally croons an upper note, his instrument showed ample presence in the house although, since he has the first sung phrase of the opus, he was the first to be affected by mid-stage placement on the rolling artificial grass. He (and the others) coped well enough by pouring on a little more volume but truth to tell the further forward the soloists were placed, the more ping and zing they had in the house.

Kate Royal is a well-regarded artist with a limpid, haunting tone produced with security and admirable musicality. Either by choice or default, Ms. Royal’s Pamina seemed too often a wilting victim which left me longing for more point and sass to balance Pavlo’s determined, bright-voiced hero. Kate was done no favors by having to sing her first utterances pretty much to the flies as the chorus bore her aloft face-up (pursued by the Moor) as they had Tamino. Alas, she never had another chance to make a solid first vocal impression and later Sir Simon rushed her a bit through her showpiece “Ah, ich fühl’s.”

James Elliott’s solid (if slightly dry-voiced) Monastatos was perhaps least well-served by the concept which reduced him to the evening’s sole baddie. It seemed too little too late when, his having crumpled alone on stage in a desolate fetal position, the others help him to his feet and offer forgiveness. Ana Durlovsky had the unenviable job of standing in for the well-loved firebrand vocal artist Simon Kermes. Not to worry, Ms. Durlovksy’s ample, warm tone and note perfect coloratura won her admirers and triumphantly carried the day.

Michael Nagy had all the goods to deliver a world class Papageno: a burnished, responsive baritone of especial beauty, and a cheeky, assured stage comportment that had just the right moxie. What he finally sadly lacked was the right characterization to truly triumph. There was no eccentricity, nothing of “the bird” about him and as he was made to refer to his “birds” as he brandished a picnic cooler, I wondered if he must be peddling frozen chickens. Regula Mühlemann’s chirpy, attractive Papagena was at least afforded a more fantastical beginning before becoming a boring backpacker.

There were marvelous instances of luxury casting. What a treat to hear Jose van Dam in the late autumn of his distinguished career, gifting us with the most memorable Speaker-Tamino exchange we are ever likely to hear. And have the three ladies ever been cast with top tier soloists the likes of the radiant, clear soprano of Annick Massis; the smoky, alluring mezzo of Magdalena Kozena; and the ballsy, baritonal contralto of Nathalie Stutzman? Individualized voices and techniques to be sure, but the three worked successfully in tandem to dominate their every scene. Even the smallest parts were cast from strength, witness the exceptionally voiced duet from the two priests, steely tenor Andreas Schager and robust baritone Jonathan Lemalu. Just as impressive were the important contributions from the Armored Men, Benjamin Hulett lending his stentorian tenor to the cause, abetted by David Jeruslaem’s impressive rolling bass.

In the ‘Best for Last’ Category: First Boy David Rother, Second Boy Cedric Schmitt and Third Boy Joshua Augustin were quite simply the best Flute boys’ trio I have ever encountered. Their acting and stage business were impeccably disciplined and their singing miraculously clear and accurate. And Dimitry Ivashchenko arguably turned in the performance of this or any other night as a magisterial, deeply compassionate Sarastro. When his well-placed, effortlessly produced bass carpeted the house with luxurious sound, you knew you were at a Festival address.

Based on the seriousness of purpose and quality of execution of this production, and having snagged the services of the Berlin Philharmonic and Maestro Rattle (not to mention rosters of the world’s top singers, instrumentalists and dancers), Baden-Baden seems poised to trump all other challengers as it further develops and promotes its prestigious Easter Festival.

James Sohre


Cast and production:

Tamino: Pavol Breslik; Pamina: Kate Royal; Sarastro: Dimitry Ivashchenko; Queen of the Night: Ana Durlovski; Papageno: Michael Nagy; Papagena: Regula Mühlemann; First Lady: Annick Massis; Second Lady: Magdalena Kozena; Third Lady: Nathalie Stutzman; Speaker: Jose Van Dam; Monastatos: James Elliott; First Boy: David Rother; Second Boy: Cedric Schmitt; Third Boy: Joshua Augustin; First Priest: Andreas Schager; Second Priest: Jonathan Lemalu; First Armored Man: Benjamin Hulett; Second Armored Man: David Jerusalem; Conductor: Simon Rattle; Stage Director: Robert Carsen; Set Design: Michael Levine; Costume Design: Petra Reinhardt; Lighting Design: Robert Carsen and Peter van Praet; Video Design: Martin Eidenberger

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):