Recently in Performances
The 36th Rossini Opera Festival in Rossini’s Pesaro! La gazza ladra (1817), La gazzetta (1816) and L'inganno felice (1812) — the little opera that made Rossini famous.
Unlike the brush fire in a distant neighborhood of the John Crosby Theatre, Santa Fe Opera’s Salome stubbornly failed to ignite.
As part of a concerted effort to incorporate local color and resonance into its annual festival, Glimmerglass has re-imagined The Magic Flute in a transformative woodland setting.
Bravura singing and vibrant instrumental playing were on ample display in Glimmerglass Festival’s riveting Cato in Utica.
Bernstein’s Candide seems to have more performance versions than Tales of Hoffmann.
That’s The Conquest of Mexico, an historical music drama composed in 1991 by German composer Wolfgang Rihm (b. 1952). But wait. Wolfgang Rihm construed a few sentences of Artaud’s La Conquête du Mexique (1932) mixed up with bits of Aztec chant and bits of poem(s) by Mexico’s Octavio Paz (d. 1998) to make a libretto.
Glimmerglass is celebrating its 40th Festival season with a stylish new production of Verdi’s Macbeth.
This Salzburg Norma is not new news. This superb production was first seen at the Salzburg Festival’s springtime Whitsun Festival in 2013 with this same cast. It will now travel to a few major European cities.
John Eliot Gardiner conducted a much anticipated performance of Monteverdi’s first opera L’Orfeo at the BBC Proms on 4 August 2015, with his own Monteverdi Choir and English Baroque Soloists.
On August 1, 2015, Santa Fe Opera presented the world premiere of Cold Mountain, a brand new opera composed by Pulizer Prize and Grammy winner Jennifer Higdon.
Puccini’s Manon Lescaut at the Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich. Some will scream in rage but in its austerity it reaches to the heart of the opera.
It might seem churlish to complain about the BBC Proms coverage of Pierre
Boulez’s 90th anniversary. After all, there are a few performances
dotted around — although some seem rather oddly programmed, as if embarrassed
at the presence of new or newish music. (That could certainly not be claimed in
the present case.)
I recently spent four days in St. Petersburg, timed to coincide with the
annual Stars of the White Nights Festival. Yet the most memorable singing I
heard was neither at the Mariinsky Theater nor any other performance hall. It
was in the small, nearly empty church built for the last Tsar, Nicholas II, at
As I walked up Exhibition Road on my way to the Royal Albert Hall, I passed a busking tuba player whose fairground ditties were enlivened by bursts of flame which shot skyward from the bell of his instrument, to the amusement and bemusement of a rapidly gathering pavement audience.
A brilliant theatrical event, bringing Handel’s theatre of the mind to
life on stage
‘Here, thanks be to God, my opera is praised to the skies and there is nothing in it which does not please greatly.’ So wrote Antonio Vivaldi to Marchese Guido Bentivoglio d’Aragona in Ferrara in 1737.
Asphyxiations, atrophy by poison, assassination: in Italo Montemezzi’s
L’amore dei tre Re (The Love of the Three Kings, 1913) foul deed
follows foul deed until the corpses are piled high.
The precision of attack in the opening to Beethoven’s Creatures of Prometheus Overture signalled thoroughgoing excellence in the contribution
of the CBSO to this concert.
When he was skilfully negotiating the not inconsiderable complexities,
upheavals and strife of musical and religious life at the English royal court
during the Reformation, Thomas Tallis (c.1505-85) could hardly have imagined
that more than 450 years later people would be queuing round the block for the
opportunity spend their lunch-hour listening to the music that he composed in
service of his God and his monarch.
Two of the important late twentieth century stage directors, Robert Carsen and Peter Sellars, returned to the Aix Festival this summer. Carsen’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream is a masterpiece, Sellars’ strange Tchaikovsky/Stravinsky double bill is simply bizarre.
11 Jun 2014
Rising Stars at Lyric Opera of Chicago
In its annual concert devoted to performances by current members of the Patrick G. and Shirley W. Ryan Opera Center, Lyric Opera of Chicago showcased a roster of talented singers who will doubtless add greatly to operatic and concert stages of the immediate future.
All of the singers performed their
chosen pieces and ensembles admirably, indeed each selection as sung was
memorable for the degree of lyrical and dramatic commitment transmitted. As a
supplement to the vocal offerings Maureen Zoltek, the Ryan Opera Center’s new
pianist, played the first movement of Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G major. The
conductor for the entire program was Kelly Kuo.
The first half of the program spanned operatic selections, in four
languages, ranging from the eighteenth through the twentieth century. The
second half of the evening was dominated by American and French selections
after the performance of the movement from the Ravel Concerto. Perhaps most
revealing from this program was the opportunity to hear each of the talented
singers in a variety of repertoire, with performances that emphasized an
encouraging versatility. As an example of such range, Tracy Cantin sang, in the
first part of the concert, Cressida’s recitative and aria, “How can I
At the haunted end of the day,” from Sir William Walton’s
Troilus and Cressida. Ms. Cantin’s involvement in this brief
evocation of the title character was riveting. Her searing top notes
emphasizing “betrayed” and “a phantom” led to the dramatic concluding
declaration of “my conqueror.” In the second part of the program Cantin was
equally impressive in a very different role, the concluding scene of Jules
Massenet’s Thaïs. Here as she was supported by the Athanaël of
baritone Anthony Clark Evans the vision of Thaïs came alive and her
transformation from courtesan to saint was believable. Cantin produced soft,
pure pitches in contrast to the appropriately urgent, sincere appeals by Evans.
The final “Je vois Dieu” [“I see God”] communicated the apotheosis of a
blessed figure. A comparable set of performances was offered by bass-baritone
Richard Ollarsaba. In his rendering of Figaro’s Act IV aria, “Tutto è
Aprite un po quegl’occhi” [“All is prepared
eyes a little”], Ollarsaba demonstrated excellent sense of color and the
ability to use his resonant sound as a means to suggesting varying emotional
states. Even within the single word “Ingrata” the expressive range that
Ollarsaba attached to individual vowels communicated both distress felt by the
character portrayed and a growing sense of irritation. Ollarsaba’s later
contribution was also by Mozart, this time in the trio ensemble, “Soave sia
il vento,” from Act I of Così fan tutte, sung together with soprano
Laura Wilde and mezzo soprano Julie Anne Miller. Each of the three performers
retained a distinct vocal personality while also blending effectively at
requisite moments. As Don Alfonso, Ollarsaba’s upper register and fluid
legato connecting multiple pitches outlined an impressive backdrop for
the myriad emotions expressed, just as the women’s voices rose and fell in
touching pathos. In their solo pieces during the concert both Miller and Wilde
also gave exciting performances. Ms. Miller showed a masterful sense of
Handelian style in the aria of the title character, “Dopo notte,” [“After
night”] from Act III of Ariodante. While communicating the sense of
the text, Miller took the word “splende” [“radiantly”] with appropriate
forte emphasis. Especially noteworthy are Miller’s breath control
and Italian diction, both serving her well in the embellishments she used in
the repeat of the A section of the aria. In the second part of the program Ms.
Wilde sang Marguerite’s aria, “Oh Dieu! Que de bijoux!,” [“O God! What
jewels!”] from Gounod’s Faust; she held a mirror in hand and acted
through her character’s delight with the jewel box as she sang this famous
showpiece aria. In decorating the line of this piece Wilde was careful in
observing textual import, so that her decorations on the “princesse,” whom
she fantasized at becoming, were especially well chosen. Her final notes showed
an emotional outburst that spoke more of the character’s naïveté than of
her entrancement with the jewels produced by Mephistopheles.
Among other singers performing in both solo and shared pieces J’nai
Bridges gave a sublime account of Sapho’s aria, “Où suis je
Ô ma lyre
immortelle” [“Where am I
o my immortal lyre”] from Gounod’s opera
Sapho. Bridges led the listeners into Sapho’s emotional world, the
character’s distress at the end of her life being expressed in contrasting
lines with “nuit eternal” [“eternal night”] and “douleur”
[“pain”], both descending to full deep notes, and her wounded “cor”
[“heart”] showing the singer’s glistening upper register. As Sapho’s
inevitable act of suicide approached, Bridges’s voice rose at the
contemplation “sous les andes” [“beneath the waves”]; she invoked her
watery death with chilling, individual low pitches on “dans las mer” [“in
the sea”] before appealing to the ocean to indeed open itself up [“ouvre
toi”] with a final, shockingly dramatic top note on the repetition of “dans
la mer.” A very different sort of character emerged in her duet from
Porgy and Bess, shared with the Porgy of baritone Will Liverman. Mr.
Liverman has an excellent command of legato which he sustained
throughout, just as Bridges declared “I’s your woman now.” Both
singers’ voices suggested the mutually enveloping emotions of their
characters as the line “We is one now” remained the predominant theme
communicated. In his solo contribution, “Batter my heart” from John
Adams’s Doctor Atomic, Liverman showed very effectively the tension
felt by Oppenheimer as he struggled with the responsibilities of his scientific
research and its effects on humanity. Yet another couple deserves mention for
their vocal and dramatic commitment. Soprano Emily Birsan and tenor John Irvin
sang a delightful account of “Chiedi all’aura lusinghiera” from Act I of
Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore. Both artists demonstrated their
ease and technical skill at bel canto singing, while each was
especially sensitive to weaving a lyrical statement that suggested a growing
sense of attraction and an independent resistance to the same. As a fitting
conclusion to the evening the latter two performers were joined by Miller,
Evans, and Ollarsaba, as well as the full ensemble, in “The promise of
living” from Aaron Copland’s The Tender Land.