16 Jan 2017
Don Quichotte at Chicago Lyric
A welcome addition to Lyric Opera of Chicago’s roster was its recent production of Jules Massenet’s Don Quichotte.
On February 21, 2017, San Diego Opera presented Giuseppe Verdi’s last composition, Falstaff, at the Civic Theater. Although this was the second performance in the run and the 21st was a Tuesday, there were no empty seats to be seen. General Director David Bennett assembled a stellar international cast that included baritone Roberto de Candia in the title role and mezzo-soprano Marianne Cornetti singing her first Mistress Quickly.
In Neil Armfield’s new production of Die Zauberflöte at Lyric Opera of Chicago the work is performed as entertainment on a summer’s night staged by neighborhood children in a suburban setting. The action takes place in the backyard of a traditional house, talented performers collaborate with neighborhood denizens, and the concept of an onstage audience watching this play yields a fresh perspective on staging Mozart’s opera.
Patricia Racette’s Salome is an impetuous teenage princess who interrupts the royal routine on a cloudy night by demanding to see her stepfather’s famous prisoner. Racette’s interpretation makes her Salome younger than the characters portrayed by many of her famous colleagues of the past. This princess plays mental games with Jochanaan and with Herod. Later, she plays a physical game with the gruesome, natural-looking head of the prophet.
On February 17, 2017 Pacific Opera Project performed Gaetano Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore at the Ebell Club in Los Angeles. After that night, it can be said that neither snow, nor rain, nor heat, nor gloom of night can stay this company from putting on a fine show. Earlier in the day the Los Angeles area was deluged with heavy rain that dropped up to an inch of water per hour. That evening, because of a blown transformer, there was no electricity in the Ebell Club area.
There has been much reconstruction of Marseille’s magnificent Opera Municipal since it opened in 1787. Most recently a huge fire in 1919 provoked a major, five-year renovation of the hall and stage that reopened in 1924.
With her irresistible cocktail of spontaneity and virtuosity, Cecilia Bartoli is a beloved favourite of Amsterdam audiences. In triple celebratory mode, the Italian mezzo-soprano chose Rossini’s La Cenerentola, whose bicentenary is this year, to mark twenty years of performing at the Concertgebouw, and her twenty-fifth performance at its Main Hall.
Matthew Rose and Gary Matthewman Winterreise: a Parallel Journey at the Wigmore Hall, a recital with extras. Schubert's winter journey reflects the poetry of Wilhelm Müller, where images act as signposts mapping the protagonist's psychological journey.
Donizetti’s Anna Bolena, composed in 1830, didn’t make it to Lisbon until 1843 when there were 14 performances at its magnificent Teatro São Carlos (opened 1793), and there were 17 more performances spread over the next two decades. The entire twentieth century saw but three (3) performances in this European capital.
It is difficult to know where to begin to praise the stunning achievement of Opera San Jose’s West Coast premiere of Silent Night.
Like Carmen, Billy Budd is an operatic personage of such breadth and depth that he becomes unique to everyone. This signals that there is no Billy Budd (or Carmen) who will satisfy everyone. And like Carmen, Billy Budd may be indestructible because the opera will always mean something to someone.
American composer John Adams turns 70 this year. By way of celebration no less than seven concerts in this season’s NTR ZaterdagMatinee series feature works by Adams, including this concert version of his first opera, Nixon in China.
Despite the freshness, passion and directness, and occasional wry quirkiness, of many of the works which formed this lunchtime recital at the Wigmore Hall - given by mezzo-soprano Kathryn Rudge, pianist James Baillieu and viola player Guy Pomeroy - a shadow lingered over the quiet nostalgia and pastoral eloquence of the quintessentially ‘English’ works performed.
'Nobody does Gilbert and Sullivan anymore.’ This was the comment from many of my friends when I mentioned the revival of Mike Leigh's 2015 production of The Pirates of Penzance at English National Opera (ENO). Whilst not completely true (English Touring Opera is doing Patience next month), this reflects the way performances of G&S have rather dropped out of the mainstream. That Leigh's production takes the opera on its own terms and does not try to send it up, made it doubly welcome.
On Feb 3, 2017, Arizona Opera presented Giacomo Puccini’s dramatic opera Madama Butterfly. Sandra Lopez was the naive fifteen-year-old who falls hopelessly in love with the American Naval Officer.
In the last of my three day adventure, I headed to Vienna for the Wiener Philharmoniker at the Musikverein (my first time!) for Mahler and Brahms.
In Amsterdam legend Janine Jansen and the seventh Principal Conductor of the Royal Concertgebouw, Daniele Gatti, came together for their first engagement in a ravishing performance of Berg’s Violin Concerto.
I extravagantly scheduled hearing the Berliner, Concertgebouw Orchestra, and Wiener Philharmoniker, to hear these three top orchestra perform their series programmes opening the New Year.
There is no bigger or more prestigious name in avant-garde French theater than Romeo Castellucci (b. 1960), the Italian metteur en scène of this revival of Arthur Honegger’s mystère lyrique, Joan of Arc at the Stake (1938) at the Opéra Nouvel in Lyon.
On January 28, 2017, Los Angeles Opera premiered James Robinson’s nineteen twenties production of Mozart’s The Abduction from the Seraglio, which places the story on the Orient Express. Since Abduction is a work with spoken dialogue like The Magic Flute, the cast sang their music in German and spoke their lines in English.
Fecund Jason, father of his wife Isifile’s twins and as well father of his seductress Medea’s twins, does indeed have a problem — he prefers to sleep with and wed Medea. In this resurrection of the most famous opera of the seventeenth century he evidently also sleeps with Hercules.
A welcome addition to Lyric Opera of Chicago’s roster was its recent production of Jules Massenet’s Don Quichotte.
The lead was portrayed definitively by Ferruccio Furlanetto; in the roles of Dulcinée and Sancho, Clémentine Margaine and Nicola Alaimo, both featured in their debuts with the company, made equally strong impressions. Additional courtiers and rival suitors for the affections of Dulcinée — Pedro, Garcias, Rodriguez, and Juan — were portrayed by Diana Newman, Lindsay Metzger, Jonathan Johnson, and Alec Carlson. The roles of servants were sung by Takaoki Onishi and Emmett O’Hanlon, while the chief of the bandits was Bradley Smoak. This production from San Diego Opera was directed at Lyric Opera of Chicago by Matthew Ozawa with sets and costumes by Ralph Funicello and Missy West; the lighting designer was Chris Maravich. The Lyric Opera Orchestra was conducted by Sir Andrew Davis, and the Lyric Opera Chorus was directed by its Chorus Master Michael Black.
At the start of each act throughout this production a quote from Cervantes’ Don Quijote appears on a scrim as a generalized introduction to the action about to unfold. Since the source for Massenet’s librettist Henri Cain was a 1904 stage play by Jacques Le Lorrain, taking inspiration from Cervantes, these citations help to return the operatic material to its ultimate novelistic origins. The first of these quotes, shown during the overture, describes the protagonist being “captive of Dulcinée, ” based on a passage from part I of Cervantes’ text. A child, seated on the stage and holding a book while reading, is also now seen just before the start of the action as a further reminder of the work’s origins in literature. The first scene approximates a Spanish courtyard while protagonists and chorus wear costumes with touches of late Renaissance style. Before Dulcnée can step onto her balcony overlooking the courtyard, the chorus cries our “Alza!” and “Vivat Dulcinée!” as a prelude to the four suitors singing of their desire to see her. As if in response to these entreaties Dulcinée appears and takes up the cry “Alza!” in her opening aria, “Quand la femme a vingt ans” [“When a woman is twenty years of age”]. Ms. Margaine performs an elaborate melisma on this word before launching into her thoughts on a young woman’s emotional needs and risks. Margaine’s warm, flexible mezzo voice sings comfortably in Dulcinée’s range, her embellishments adding to the tantalizing appeal of the character.
Nicola Alaimo and Ferruccio Furlanetto
The subsequent exchange between rival suitors features Mr. Johnson’s ironically heartfelt intonation on “mon pauvre ami!” [“my poor friend!”] as his character Rodriguez chides the declarations of a lovesick Juan. This banter is interrupted when the suitors and the crowd together proclaim Quichotte’s entrance with his squire. Messrs. Furlanetto and Alaimo proceed into the courtyard on stuffed animals with Quichotte dressed in the stylized formality of a traveling knight. After admonishing the squire Sancho to be generous to the young and the poor, calling them angels, the “Chevalier” retreats to gaze up at the balcony of Dulcinée. Furlanetto’s movements and declamation reveal here a true assumption of character, while he musters the energy of an aging knight to fulfill the timeless ideals of chivalry. The serenade performed for the adored Dulcinée, “Quand apparaissent les étoiles” [“When the stars appear”], shows the knight attempting to focus despite public distraction. With distinct emotional tension Furlanetto holds the verse “Je fais ma prière à tes yeux” [“Unto thine eyes I say my prayer”], until one of the youthful rivals insults his honor. After fending off the start of swordplay, Quichotte resumes his serenade with mandolin, complimenting “La fleur de tes lèvres” [“the flower of your lips”]. Upon repeating this line herself, Dulcinée joins the principals to settle the struggle for her devotion. In her attempts to “modérer votre ardeur” [“temper your enthusiasm”], Margaine assumes multiple vocal identities, so that she remains attractive to both Quichotte and to Juan and persuades them not to “spill blood” [“répandre du sang”]. Once she dispatches the Chevalier on a mission to retrieve her stolen necklace, Quichotte glows with the assumption of affection. Here Furlanetto stands transfixed at Dulcinée’s balcony while intoning slowly “Elle m’aime” [“she loves me”], and — more slowly — “sa voix” [“her voice”], so that he nearly gels into a statue. The final two verses of the act preview by their performance here the eventual course of this one-sided liaison. Quichotte insists that his word is sacred, which Furlanetto emphasizes with a dramatic descending pitch on the vow that the will keep it [“je veux la tenir”]. Offstage Margaine repeats with an equally distinctive note of resignation Dulcinée’s original sentiment of the woman of twenty years.
The second and third acts of Don Quichotte allow the audience both to appreciate the steadfast relationship between the Chevalier and his squire Sancho and to test the vow of the errant knight in fulfilling his promise. On the scrim before Act II a citation from Cervantes reminds the audience that Quichotte will courageously perceive windmills as giants. While riding through a bucolic landscape Quichotte attempts to compose a love poem for his lady. As Furlanetto becomes progressively rapt in his thoughts, Sancho remarks sympathetically “Enfin il est heureux!” [“He is finally happy!”]. The sentiment soon shifts to Sancho’s resentment over having presumably been duped by Dulcinée. Mr. Alaimo unleashes an extended judgement against “Les femmes” who continue to leave an husband simply scratching his head. Alaimo becomes vocally and physically involved in his accelerating characterization. With a forte declaration “L’homme est une victim” [“Man is a victm”], he equates husbands with “des saints” in a line which Alaimo concludes on a dramatically extended pitch. His impressive aria is interrupted by Quichotte’s spotting “les Géants” whom he intends to challenge with his lance. The scene renders Sancho’s renewed sympathies, and Alaimo cries with a gasp, “O fatale démence!” [“O fatal madness!”]. Once the knight is caught and carried up by the blade of a windmill, Sancho is left to pray for deliverance. After an orchestral interlude played at the start of Act III, both men proceed into the mountains at sunset. It is in this act that Furlanetto’s portrayal of Don Quichotte reaches its apotheosis while he declares heroically to his squire, “notre gloire commence!” [our glory begins!”]. Quichotte is now certain that he has found the path of the bandits who robbed Dulcinée’s necklace. With determination he repeats the start of his dedicatory chanson of love before gleefully declaring to Sancho that he sees at least two hundred opponents. Quichotte, who must face them alone, is now vanquished and surrounded by the group intending to kill him. With eyes directed to heaven and hands joined, Furlanetto sings the moving prayer, “Seigneur, reçois mon âme” [“Lord, receive my soul”], which he concludes piano on the line “I am yours.” Through vocal persuasion the chevalier arouses wonder in his adversaries; as leader of the bandits Mr. Smoak summarizes their reaction in his pointed questions on Quichotte’s purpose. In his proud response Furlanetto identifies himself as a knight redressing wrongs, describing his specific goal here, with the caveat that not the jewel, but “la cause est sacrée” [“the cause is sacred”]. The necklace is at once surrendered as Quichotte calls out to Sancho. The squire returns to witness the “miracle” of the converted ruffians, whom Quichotte can now characterize as “docile” in Furlanetto’s triumphantly held pitch.
The return to Dulcinée’s court and Quichotte’s unexpected departure are portrayed succinctly in Acts IV and V. Although surrounded by merrymaking and adulation, Dulcinée fails to be contented with the affections of her current suitors. She declares them objects of boredom as Margaine launches into her aria “Lorsque le temps d’amour a fui” [“when the time for love has fled”]. Starting with a slow and contemplative tempo, the piece increases in both intensity and volume as the heroine is joined by the chorus. Just as the determined suitors join in the song, Sancho announces the successful return of Quichotte. When Dulcinée learns that her necklace has indeed been returned, Margaine declares with emotional fervor, “Il faut que je t’embrasse!” [“I must embrace you”]. This sign of affection remains, however, attached to the bauble, for Quichotte’s subsequent offer of marriage is rebuffed with disbelief. Although Dulcinée’s explanation of emotional noncommittal is credited to her own needs, the courtiers can only deride Quichotte for his foolish desires. In a gesture of extremely touching loyalty Sancho chides the courtiers for their callous laughter at a man whose life has been determined by ideals and the perception of truth. Alaimo concludes this scene vocally with perhaps the most moving involvement of the production, as he lifts Quichotte to his feet and helps him to depart from an unwanted public display. In the final brief act in the mountains this powerful camaraderie is repeated when Sancho must support the head of Quichotte in his final moments of life. Furlanetto reminds his squire that he can leave him “l’île des Rêves” [“the island of dreams”] in their parting dialogue. In Alaimo’s anguished “Mon Maître adoré” [“My beloved Master”] we sense that this legacy will be cherished.