Monday, December 30, 2013

2013 highlights and low lights




To start this summary of what I saw this year, I have to start with the statement, that I did not see all I wanted to see, not even locally. I mostly chose to see things that I felt I had to see, not things I wanted to see, given the chance. Thus, no Ballo at Opera Australia, and no Melbourne Ring either, since, it had initially been declared sold out. When I heard there was tickets available, it was too late for me to organise to go.

But, I also got to see some unexpected treats, in part due to some generous friends. Both the Carmen on the Harbour and the Verdi Requiem I saw via free tickets, and both I enjoyed immensely, even if they were not my peak highlights.

But, having said that, my first highlight of the year came in April, courtesy of a Met in HD production. I think it is fair to say that pretty much anyone that went to that Parsifal came away moved/stunned/shocked/wowed. What it was like live I can only imagine (I got lots of reports of "amazing" from people who went), but it burst forth on screen with an intensity often missed. I suspect the DVD of this production, will quickly become regarded as the one to judge others by. Both impressive musically and visually, it allowed the story to be told true to text, while modernising it in a way that made it more meaningful, not less. It was both traditional and modern, an exercise in direction that many opera directors would do well to watch and learn from, in my opinion.

The next highlight was finally hearing Bryn Terfel in concert. Not because he was in fine vocal form, or because he is one of the best singers around. But, rather, because he is that rare thing, the consummate showman in classical music. His performing will always be interesting, no matter how he is sounding, simply because he comes across as generous friend who wants you to like his singing, and who is a nice guy. I found his voice definitely showing wear and tear that night, but his performance was still entertaining and frankly, compelling. As I said at the time, maybe not the voice I wanted on recordings of the repertoire, but as a live experience, hard to beat.

Then, the next highlight was hearing Stuart Skelton in concert with the Philharmonia proving what an amazing singer he is. Seriously, I fail to understand why he is not better known, this is a singer who you need to go hear, any time you have the chance. And why his Lohengrin (or his Parsifal, for that matter) are not available on video, is one of the modern mysteries of opera (or at least, the recording industry)

I also got the chance to hear Eric Owens sing The Flying Dutchman, in a concert with the Sydney Symphony, and Orla Boylan and Ain Anger. Let's just say that they are all singers who if you do not know, you should. All singing roles that suit them, in concert with the forces that this opera begs for. If you have not heard a big chorus sing this, you have not heard it! This was far and away my highlight for concert of the year.

I have two choices for the best staged live opera I saw. I can't quite decide which was better. Both were well performed, in clever stagings that brought the stories to life. Both used minimal sets, focussing more on the performers to bring things to life. The stunning production of La forza del destino by Opera Australia was a dramatic and a vocal triumph for them. With a great cast, all singing amazingly, in  a production with no weak link (except the overlong music, Verdi really needed to cut some things out) This was a production where you really did feel their anguish and despair at what has happened.



But, I also can't go past the Sydney Chamber Opera production of Owen Wingrave, where on the smell of an oily rag, they produced riveting theatre that was more real than anything I have seen on stage. The cast were all impressive, but the stunning performance of Morgan Pearse in the title role was one of the best performances I have seen in person on stage. Even in an opera I had never heard before, which, to be honest, is not the easiest music to like on first listen, he held the audience in the palm of his hand the whole time, and his death at the end produced audible gasps of horror in the audience. You cannot get more vivid performances than that!


Sydney Chamber Opera - Owen Wingrave from Hospital Hill on Vimeo.

Saturday, November 23, 2013

Grease, its still the word



Yeah, how many of us don't know this, right? If you are anywhere close to my age, you probably saw it when it first came out in the cinema, or, at the drives, then when it came out on TV, then on VHS, then.... Well, you get the picture. Its a staple, everyone knows the story. Cute boy and cute girl try to overcome their differences in background to make a success of things in high school in California in the 50s. Its a story that many writers did, many times, with varying levels of success. Why has Grease worked so well? And why is it being run as a stage show on tour in Australia, for about the fifth time here?

Well, that clip from the movie goes a long way to explaining it. Fun songs, cute, likeable leads, bucketloads of energy, and, let's be honest, a lot of humour as we relive our youth, with enough commonality that we can all put ourselves into those roles we see on stage. It is close to being an urtext of the high school musical genre, if such a thing can be said. The movie was possibly the best expression of youth as we wanted it to be, rather than it ended up, that I can think of.

So, yes, any production of Grease on stage has a lot to live up to. Finding a group of performers who can sing and dance their way through the numbers and impersonate the leads from the movie close enough, and basically you have it made, right? Well, sort of. There is still a need to make it work as a cohesive whole, rather than a series of great production numbers with a story stuck onto it. Sadly, that is what it felt like at times. Sometimes it worked, and worked well. At other times, some scenes were like "get to the song already, so we can move on" which is never a good thing. I suspect some heavy editing of the book happened, or maybe just the director was not able to bring those scenes to life, but at times I felt like playing "spot what song goes here" before the song arrived. If I felt like that, something is wrong.

But, having said that, most of the singing was great. To be sure, who ever takes on the leads is going to forever be compared with the movie originals, and found wanting, but to be honest, most of the time that comparison was not happening. Rob Mills' Danny was filled with enough energy to carry him through, and, if Gretel Scarlett was not what we were expecting, well, frankly, who would be? The role is so indelibly associated with Olivia Newton John, that anyone has to be astonishing to make us not compare them. Needless to say, in her case, we got very good, not astonishing, so the comparisons were inevitable.

By far away the best of the main leads, though, was the Rizzo of Lucy Maunder. She owned that role, and filled it out with flesh and blood, in a way that the others couldn't. She also sang up a storm in her solo numbers, (Look at me I'm Sandra Dee and There are worse things I could do).  Also excellent was the Jan of Laura Murphy, who brought the "young one" to vivid life, in a way that many of the others failed.

Having said that, the Teen Angel of Todd McKenney was also hilarious, and fun, even if his singing was no where close to the best I have heard that his one song sung. He certainly got the audience in the palm of his hand, showing what is possible in a small part!

But, to be honest, though I enjoyed this show, it would not be a production I would go see again. Apart from the fact that I am more likely to go see an opera than a musical, this was, while well sung, and (mostly) well danced, it lacked something to my mind. Most people would laugh at me for this, considering the fact we are talking about a very commercial musical, but I left feeling the show was lifeless, or soulless. It was all well done, but it had no reason to be done, other than just entertaining. Themes that were there were played down, and we were left with a show that was less than the sum of its parts, rather than more. Which is a shame, because there was things that I did enjoy about it, but ultimately, I was wanting more.

Oh, and yes, before you ask, I did not pay to go. It was our work Christmas party, paid for by my boss.

So, instead, I will leave you with Olivia showing why no one else even comes close with this role.







Monday, November 18, 2013

The Nose, or Shostakovich giving the Soviet system the finger





The Nose is really one of those pieces that defies description. Its manic and fun and full of invention, both a trifle about nothing, that also at the same time, makes it clear that beyond the absurd tale, there is indeed deeper ideas afoot. Not that they all appear in one quick sitting, but complexities certainly there are.

To start with, I have to say, this is one of the busiest productions I have ever seen. The height of the Met Opera theatre stage is taken advantage of in many ways. William Kentridge's staging from the outset does not attempt to treat this story naturalistically, with  scenic elements that only appear as they are needed. Kovalyov's bedroom, the barber's room, the pressroom, the police station. They were all suggested, rather than depicted fully, and always skewed, or indeed, bent as if in a surrealist painting. But, that added to the sense of a world gone mad, helping this seemingly light fancy on its way, inviting the watcher to pick up other thoughts thrown out along the way.

But, yet, everything about the plot happened, there was no attempt to ignore the story, rather the non realistic sets made the characters more real, helped the performers build a sense of other, that worked in this mess of a morality tale gone awry. Yet, tho messy, there was clearly a firm hand on the direction. Everything linked back to the central story and fed from it. Constant projections onto walls showed the passage of the Nose as it travelled around while free, or words from what was sung, or pieces of text that gave the sense of newspaper reports, the breathless sort that the tale would generate.

So, to the singers. First of all, dominating over the whole plot, the man with no nose, Kovalyov, was played by Paulo Szot, in what should be a career defining performance, if he was not already well known for being the Emille that made South Pacific popular again a few years ago.   Here, he shows himself far more than the good looking French seducer (indeed, it is hard to imagine a less likely role to follow Emille Debecque with than this one, while staying in fach) Truly, this is one of those roles that dominates everything else. He brought us a vision of a man totally lost in his world, with his circumstances turned upside down, and did it convincingly, while singing beautifully. In honesty, his was the only performance that really mattered, it all stood or fell on his shoulders. Needless to say, it stood up, and tap danced!!

Not to say that no other performance was good, far from it. But, after Kovalyov, you then have His Servant Ivan, the Police constable, the barber and the Podtochina's, with the rest all being cameo roles who appear for one scene, then disappear into the crazy ensemble. Really, no performer stood out, as bad or good, tho for sheer madness, the pretzel seller will remain in memory, as a good example of how to make a crazy outfit work.

But ultimately, this production is all Paulo's, (and the directors) I will leave you with some of his work from it. Feel free to click on the link below if you want to see who else featured (all were good btw)















Full cast list from the Met Archives

Thursday, October 03, 2013

Lise Lindstrom shows how to do Turandot. (Royal Opera House cinema presentation)



Lise Linstrom singing "In questa reggia"


Turandot is always a bit of an odd opera. Its title role does not sing until after the first interval.And its a role that often seems to end up as being judged not by how well the lead soprano sings, but is she loud enough to be heard, because the role is such a cruel piece to sing, that only the largest voices can do it justice. Which often means we miss out on the other things this role needs. The ability to turn from the ice maiden into the woman in love in a short space of time. The ability to convey the idea that everyone is afraid of you.

So, for this cinema production of Turandot, we have a soprano who I only knew of by reputation. But, what a big reputation. People who heard her in London in the theatre for this run, described her as the best Turandot since Gwyneth Jones, without Jones' wobble. A big call, to be sure, but having heard her in the cinema I can see why. Lise brings a very loud focused voice to this role. Her voices is totally at her command, no wayward notes, no spread top, everything totally controlled. To be sure, her quiet notes are not always as pretty as some, but, when you can sing with such a potent clarion tone, so reliably, who really cares in this role? She portrays the ice cold princess well, yet also portrays the eventual realisation that she actually loves this man well. Why, we never really work out, but then, it is opera, do they need a reason, besides the glorious music? Not to mention, a truly extraordinary In questa reggia (see above)

So, in many respects, this performance was all about worshiping the current great Turandot. That is not to say that there were not other things good about it, But her performance stood head and shoulders above the others. The first act in some respects seemed dull, lacking in fire. Dare I say it was because we did not have our Turandot? Certainly no one else on the stage was making that sort of performance that stood out as amazing. When the best thing on the stage besides the Turandot is the combination of Ping, Pang and Pong, you know that the other leads lack fire.

The Calaf (Marco Berti) spent the first two acts basically doing a Pavarotti stand and bellow. Which is fine, if you can sing like Pavarotti. If you can't you really need to offer more. To be sure, he sang with a big bold Italianate sound, full of ardour, but he scattered off pitch notes freely around the stage, only really coming good both with physical acting and pitch in the final act. That the Royal Opera cannot provide a better tenor than Opera Australia did with Rosario LaSpina (which several people commented on in the cinema) probably says all you need to know.

Even the Liu of Eri Nakamura only really came good in her final scene. Her Signora ascolta gave every appearance of a singer trying too hard, of working to make the sounds, rather than trusting in her voice to do its job and focus on portraying her character. Again, Opera Australia has a history of great singers in the role with Hyeseoung Kwon, for example, singing this aria and leaving the audience teary eyed. Did not happen here. However, her final scene was much more affecting, and did bring a lump to the throats of many.

On the other hand, the energetic trio of Ping (Dionysios Sourbis) Pang (David Butt Phillip) and Pong (Doug Jones) were very strong performers. They took their long scene and made it memorable. Their interaction with the rest of the cast was also strong. How they kept the energy up to perform what amounted to almost ballet while still singing, was beyond me, but they did it, and did it well.

Also, credit must go to the ballet and chorus who performed admirably. With such a frenetic staging, the dancers seemed constantly on the move in every crowd scene, while in many scenes, it is the chorus who must carry the most music. The sounds produced by them continue to be some of the best opera choral work I around at the moment.

However, for all its frantic movement, clearly Asian inspired (I was seeing a mix of Chinese opera as well as the tai chi that the choreographer claimed) I still found this at its heart a very traditional production. There was a strong sense of place, the costumes were all clearly designed as ancient Chinese, and the story was basically told clearly, with very little deviation from what is written. And, the score and the libretto were allowed to work their magic. And it worked. It worked mainly because of the strength of the Turandot, but, it worked. And we knew that we had seen a great performer in what is her signature role. That the others failed to live up to her so prominently is something that the Royal Opera should be considering.














Rosario La Spina singing in the Opera Australia production

Thursday, August 08, 2013

Britten showing his pacifist side

Strange choice, yes, but it is the best recent video I could find, to show how Morgan Pearse sounds now.




So, Owen Wingrave, hey? Or, if you like, the time I finally pop my live Britten opera cherry. And, the first time I walked out of the end of an opera stunned. Stunned in a good way, as, having no idea of the story going in, beyond the outsider not fitting into the military family idea, I was invested in the story and the ending when it happened, was a powerful kick to the heart. I firmly believe that the sobs I heard on stage, were being matched by someone behind me, who was stunned by the ending. If you do not know the story, I recommend you see this without finding out the ending, it is so much more powerful that way.

So, yes, I loved this. But, as impressed as I was watching it played out on stage, I do not believe I would have enjoyed this as much just listening. This is an opera to watch, to listen and to absorb, then get angry about. It would not work as a pleasant listen like a Mozart or similar would, it all derives from the story.

So, anyway, this really was Owen's show, or, should I say, Morgan Pearse's show. If last time I heard him I was impressed, this time, I was shocked and stunned. This was the sort of performance that careers can be built on. Powerful, yet always musical and vocally in control, he portrayed the progression from confused but determined to determined but crushed by the family ghosts that surround him. To say that this was the most powerful and moving staged performance I have seen since Emma Matthew's Lucia gives you an idea of how he takes this role and makes it his own. This will stay with me for a long time. And haunt me.

As his good friend Lechmere, Pascal Herrington gave another of his fine performances. Yes, he was in the shade of Morgan, but, considering his strength as a performer, this was no surprise. His singing and acting, once again proving this is a performer with a big career ahead of him, as his voice grows to match his already impressive acting skills. A tall fair haired tenor who acts? That hardly seems fair. The fact that I know him for a genuinely nice guy as well is cruel! He brought humanity and a sense of normality with his role, as well as singing the crucial "there was a boy" telling of the ghost story in clear diction that in many ways was the emotional heart of this piece.

Also another impressively good was Emily Edmonds as Kate, the girl who had expected to marry the hero soldier Owen, but does not know how to deal with the new found pacifist Owen. The big demands of the role were a great fit for her big voice, and she was convincing as the girl with her eye on the prize, found wanting when the prize is not what was expected. Another performer I want to hear a lot more of.

As is Georgia Bassingthwaighte as Mrs Coyle, the wife of his military teacher, the only sympathetic characters who try to understand and care for Owen, when his family turn against him. Bringing the sympathetic characters to life against the cruel and tradition bound family, the Coyles were both well played and sung, though Simon Lobelson seemed lacking power vocally in his role.

But really, there were no bad performances in this piece. A couple of voices seemed miscast, but all the characterisations were vivd and strong, with some clever use of the space, although, I can't help wondering if maybe we would have been more shocked by the ending, if the room had not been set front and centre, and rather Owen was out of site, making the ending purely the reactions, not what happens.

But, that was a small quibble, for what was a very powerful night of theatre, where they also sang.



This is the "there was a boy" section, only half as chilling as it was presented by Sydney Chamber Opera.




The original production, for TV, conducted by the composer




Sydney Chamber Opera - Owen Wingrave from Hospital Hill on Vimeo.

 This was just recently put on line. You really get a feel for what the production was like with this.

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Come fly with the Dutchman




Well, that was a ride and a half! Up close and personal with with the Sydney Symphony and some fabulous soloists for a Wagnerian opera. Like, really close. Third row close. My ears will take some time to recover from the eargasm.

To be sure, it may not have been the best place to hear some of the voices, as singer's voices do tend to be quite directionally focused, and they were definitely singing over our heads. Thus some passages may have struggled to carry to our seats, but it was only small patches, with most reaching us fine, even if not with the full power those voices displayed.

And what voices! Anytime you have Eric Owens on stage is a good time. Adding the fearless and magnificent Orla Boylan and Ain Anger as well, and you have the foundations for an astonishing performance.

So, from the outset, despite this being a concert in the symphony season, it was a very theatrical event. Before the concert started, the lights were dimmed till only the stage was lit. The backdrop lit up with images of the sea as the opening chords of the prelude kicked in. From there on, the magic of Wagner began to cast his spell, weaving his impossible gothic tale of horror and redemption.

It has to be said, from the word go, the orchestra and its conductor David Robertson were on fire, wringing out every inch of drama and excitement of an admittedly already exciting score. As mentioned before, this was a very theatrical concert, so as the usual choir stalls were behind the screens, the choir was set up with the men on one side of the stage and the women the other. The offstage horns for the calls to the Dutchman's ship were towards the back of the auditorium.

From the opening notes of Anger's Daland, there was no doubt we were in for a treat. His huge beautiful bass, used to good effect last week in the Verdi Requiem took on a new level, as he clearly revelled in the role, bringing nuance born of a clear understanding of the text. This was text driven singing, rather than just singing the notes, coupled with a beautiful expressive voice.

Beside him, the Steuermann of John Tessier seemed at first a little overwhelmed, but quickly grew in strength. His higher notes soared across beautifully, expressing the longing to be back home with his unnamed (possibly nonexistent) beloved. The timbre of his voice was just right for the role, making that youthful cry all the more right.

Then of course, the Dutchman of Eric Owens arrives, the reason for this performance in many ways. Sounding at once world weary, yet still also longing for release, he brought the mythic sailor to life, in both glorious sound and menace. His performance is every bit as good as as you would expect, but like many bass voices, his comes across much richer in person than in recordings. It's an unusual sound, as you would know if you have heard it, instantly distinctive, and glorious in villainous or troubled roles. The Dutchman is very much his role, just like his Alberich for The Met, a tour de force of singing a role, seemingly written for him.

I was also expecting good things of Orla Boylan as Senta. I was not disappointed. This is not Senta as ice maiden, this is Senta as glorious flesh and blood woman, a conflicted whirlwind of emotions, powered by a glorious sliver toned voice that cut through the orchestra with ease. She made the Ballad that is her big opening number both dramatically and musically cohesive, allowing the lyrical beauty to come through, as well as the intrinsic creepiness of the piece. She could make a fine career, just singing Senta around the world if she wanted, I expect.

To me, the Erik of John Dazsak was much stronger than his tenor soloist in last week's requiem. Whether the repertoire suits him better, or if having a character to portray is what made the difference, I'm unsure, but the difference was noticeable. He was convincing as the suitor rejected by Senta, abandoned for the hero who has haunted her dreams for years.

And, while it is only a small role, I also have to say the Mary of Sally-Anne Russell was a treat. She vividly brought life to the role, and was a clear demonstration that despite the starry talent on stage, Australia too has plenty of great singers, which Sydney Symphony needs to remember when casting. I know we have some great voices around, who we should be hearing and aren't.

And, as well as the great soloists we also had excellent singing (with much better diction this time) from the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs. They clearly relished being in character, and brought life to what could have been just stand and sing moments.

So, all in all another fabulous night of singing. I'm tempted to look for a ticket for Monday night to go again, though I suspect it is now all sold out...


 

I'll leave you with Ain Anger singing, for those who have not heard before...

Sunday, July 14, 2013

Viva Verdi (RIP)






So, that Verdi Requiem, hey? Having been sung at loudly and gorgeously by four soloists and a massed chorus, as well as orchestra, for over an hour, everything does tend to become a bit numb. Gorgeousness blends into gorgeousness, counterbalanced with the fierceness of the fiery sections, as Verdi demands his full forces let rip in an orchestral orgy of horror at the day of judgement. And yet, so much beauty interspersed.

With the combined forces of the Sydney Symphony and the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs and the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra Chorus, led by David Robertson, it was always going to be a big sound. Adding in three superb singers and you are pretty much bludgeoned into a delicious pulp. This is a good thing.

So, yes, I now can add Erin Wall to my list of Extraordinary Must See Singers. Beautiful, pure, lyric soprano, the sort that makes you go "how is she still singing that, that loudly and sounding pretty, not harsh?" Yes, she is one of those singers. Was it wrong I kept thinking through her singing of things I would love to hear her sing? Pamina and Countess both sit high in my list of things she would be amazing in. That heart breakingly beautiful sound would just leave you haunted in such roles.

So, needless to say she sang well. High notes wafted "up there somewhere" and the ability to go from the quietest pianissimo to her loud fortes without that sense of switching gears that you get with some singers. And such a beautiful sound from top to bottom.

Her mezzo companion was Olesya Petrova, bringing a big creamy sound, well matched to her soprano compatriot. The only time I found myself at all disappointed with her was in the Angus Dei section, when she and Erin sang in octaves. Next to Erin's higher notes, Olesya sounded slightly harsh. Not that she was, just that Erin was singing even more beautifully. It was weird, because the rest of the time, they sounded gorgeous together.  Something about those octaves though, left me thinking why is this not as gorgeous as it should be. Truly odd.

The other superb member of the quartet was Ain Anger, with a fierce bass sound. This is a man clearly used to singing bass villains, and doing it well. Sometimes, I heard a villainous snarl during some of his solo lines and thought, wrong piece for that flourish big guy, but otherwise he was fabulous. A big resonant bass voice who could boom fiercely through the Confutatis section. That it took over from the Ingemisco of John Daszak did seem a little unfair. For both.

To be honest, I was expecting better things from John Daszak. Now, maybe he was having an off night, or the Latin text is something he finds challenging, but I was definitely underwhelmed. Throughout, his voice sounded dryer, less resonant, and basically, tired. Maybe he was. He had sung the night before too (as had the others). But, having said that, all the notes were there, and when he was singing with the others, he blended in beautifully, the sections with him and the bass and the mezzo were just beautiful. I am just very glad the Ingemisco was not at the start, as he had improved by the time he got to that, but it was still not that gorgeous sound we were hoping for.

As for the choruses (for we had two in this), well, lots of sound, and no obvious wrong notes or bad entries. The only criticism I had, was that I would have liked more clarity of diction, but with that many singers, and a big choral concert from them next weekend as well, I can well understand why. That precision requires lots of drilling, and with two big concerts back to back, it does become a challenge to get both up to that standard.

Which of course, leaves David Robertson. For the most part, I liked what he did with his forces. There were a couple of interesting touches to how he shaped sections, noticeably at the end of the Dies Irae sections, where he worked to get an almost bouncy, juddering effect, which worked. My only criticism, would be I would like a touch more savagery and more of a turning on a dime feel to my Verdi. This was sometimes too pretty, when Verdi really comes to life with savagery. But, considering the forces, I suspect he went more for unity, rather than fierce precision.

So, on the whole, a truly fabulous concert. Not perfect but, very very good!







Erin singing a different Verdi, in case you do not know her voice.

And, now that the boffins have done their thing, the entire concert is available for viewing online...

Click here (needs silverlight)


Wednesday, July 03, 2013

Go see LA Forza!!!







Any opera called "the Force of Destiny" (or La Forza del Destino, in the original Italian) has to ask big questions, or at least attempt to, to avoid being laughed at. Its debateable whether Verdi does ask such question, but he does certainly fill his pot boiler of an opera with characters who seem to be doomed to spend their lives unhappily, their destiny set from before the opera starts, it would seem.

Tama Matheson has directed a very dark retelling of this tale. He has opted to focus on the story and its themes, and tell that, rather than try to update it to some other time, trusting in the source, rather than feeling the need to change the story to fit his ideas. Thus, the stage is filled with characters in period appropriate costumes.

And yet, the set itself, tended to be non naturalistic. Props that were needed were always available, and era appropriate, but the stage itself was mostly left blank, with a series of platforms and staircases wheeled in out and around, as needed, with curtains and a large revolve, used to change spaces as needed. At various times, other pieces were added and removed as required. A large skull often featured, with a giant statue of the Madonna, an altar, massed candles, and a crucifix, all appearing at times to add to the atmosphere of religious fervour, and oppression.

This production does take a few small liberties with the story though. Preziosilla, ably sung and acted by Rinat Shaham, became, not just a fortune telling gypsy, but an embodiment of Fate itself. She lurks menacingly whenever any scenes ripe for death or "significant plot event" happen. As characters die, she has kissed them immediately before, becoming the hand of fate that brings death. At times, the women of the chorus join her in this role. In the battle scenes, the women, hidden behind death masks, wander amongst the soldiers, touching them, which results in them dying.

So, about the performers. First, let me say, this is probably the best cast opera I have seen live in Sydney. There were no weak links. With five leads all at a very high standard, this is no mean feat!

First, of course, our Leonora, played by Svetla Vassileva, bringing a slight figure and huge voice to the role. Hers is a big, beautiful voice, used to good effect in this role. A few times her loud notes became a bit squally and wayward, but mostly she sang with gorgeous tone and portrayed the initial nervousness and then anguish of her character well. Singing much of her final aria Pace pace mio Dio lying on the floor, her torment at what had become of her life was almost too painful to watch.

As her fiance Don Alvaro, Riccardo Massi brought a strong tenor voice to the role. He was convincing as the impulsive foreigner in love with Leonora and whose plan to elope was destroyed by the intrusion and then death of her father, (well sung by Richard Anderson)

A welcome return to the OA stage was by Jonathan Summers as Don Carlo. Hearing the veteran sing with the strength that puts most younger baritones to shame, reminds us of a time when he was a regular singer here. His determination to get vengeance and repair the honour caused by the loss of his father was palpable, as was his brokenness from his loss.

And I mentioned Rinat Shaham before, so all I need to say is, how good is it to have a singer who can sing from the back of the stage, on a raised platform and still have her heard at the back of the theatre, over the chorus in front of her? Very good! Though why every director chooses to go nuts with at least one of Preziosilla's scenes, I have no idea. This time, her "Rataplan" results in all the chorus dying as she sings. Not the effect that Verdi was aiming at!

The lead that gets the least time though, who also impressed me the most was Giacomo Prestia. Big beautiful sounds poured out of him effortlessly, every time he opened his mouth. Can we have him back soon to sing King Phillip in Don Carlo? Please?


To give you an idea how big his voice is. His Melitone, Warwick Fyfe, who sang Falstaff earlier this year at OperaAustralia, seemed small voiced when singing next to him. Not that this was bad, Melitone is a smaller role after all (and Warwick filled it well) but the difference in voice size between them was noticeable.

It has to be said, there were lots of clever touches throughout this opera, things that showed the director and designers had thought long and hard how to create a strong sense of the atmosphere and story. These occurred throughout the opera. For example, in the opening, Leonora starts in a big elaborate wide dress and wig, which during her first big aria, she is helped out of by servants, as if her rebellion requires her to first be freed of the shackles society has put on her. She later spends the rest of the performance in plainer costumes, indicating that she has left her past behind her, even as her past will not leave her. At the end of Act2, as she puts on the monk habit before beginning as a hermit, the monk assisting her removes the hood from his head, revealing to us that, in her mind, she sees her dead father, and because almost paralysed with fear.

Andrea Licata was the conductor, keeping the forces well controlled. Personally, I prefer a little more forcefulness in my Verdi, but, the ensemble was tight and controlled, working with the singers to comment on the action.

So, my advice? If you like Verdi, go. You won't see a cast like this locally again in a hurry.


Saturday, June 15, 2013

Sydney Philharmonia Triple Threat concert (or Stuart Skelton lovefest)






So, another Stuart Skelton concert. Another chance to glory at the singing of this man. Seriously, I am in awe. The clarity and beauty of his pianissimo high notes, that should not be legal on a dramatic voice. Seriously, those sounds, they belong in a lyric tenor, not a heldentenor. Yet, he stands there, singing beautiful soft floated notes that reach the back of the concert hall, that then swell into a huge sound that can be heard despite the full orchestra blaring. That is the sign of seriously good technique, coupled with a unique gift.

And yes, that is what we got. A lot of amazing singing. From the opening with the dawn interlude from Peter Grimes and the chorus that followed it, we got to sample Peter Grimes extensively. I admit, my Grimes knowledge is not extensive, I have yet to see a production in the flesh, and the production my memories of it derive from was in the 90's. But, gosh, so much beautiful filmic music. I mean that in the best way. The score is full of beautiful scene painting, and we got to hear some lovely excerpts from the score, with carefully programmed selections that flowed together to create a sense of the whole piece, while only playing a small fraction of the music. Of course, we got Stuart's glorious singing of "Now the Great Bear and Pleiades" which is about a thousand times better than the video attached here suggests. And Embroidery, sung by Cheryl Barker, who, as others have suggested, based on this outing, should do Ellen on stage. But we also got lots of chorus music, sung by the Sydney Philharmonia Festival Chorus, who while well drilled, sadly have about half the men they need. So, while they sounded glorious, there were times when the lack of male voices was painfully obvious.

But, more than anything, the chunks of Peter Grimes reminded me that I really made a mistake in not seeing the last Opera Australia Peter Grimes, a mistake I will not make again, if Stuart is singing it. It was a powerful demonstration why, to many people, he owns this role.

After Grimes, we had selections from Otello, starting with that gloriously unexpected choral opening that really does create the fear of watching a storm at sea. This was one of the moments that I cringed at the lack of male voices, but once it had passed, I went back to glorying in the joy of hearing a large choir sing these glorious choral scenes that Verdi used to advance his story so well. We also got to hear Stuart singing some of Otello's music, along with Cheryl as his Desdemona. Hearing them in a staged production would be a treat for any opera lover, even if making the big blond bear into a moor, could pose a challenge for the makeup department (not to mention, awkward in so many PC ways) Would it be too much to hope for? Sadly, I suspect yes.

So, after interval, it was all Wagner, all the way. With the assistant conductor Anthony Pasquill taking the baton for the Lohengrin excerpts, we had the prelude and bridal chorus from Act 3 with In fernam Land following. After hearing that, all I can say is, if you get the chance, go see Stuart sing Lohengrin. Seriously, there is no one out there who can sing it like that. Its like that aria was made for his voice. (The fact that I cannot find video of him singing it to demonstrate is highly annoying) The clarity of his pianissimo and the beauty of them, not to mention the ability to swell from them to full voice, its truly astonishing. And I say that, as someone who prefers deep voices to tenors. No one sounds like this. No one.

Then we had Tannhåuser, with a chorus and Dich, teure Halle from Cheryl, which to my ears sounded a bit overwrought somehow. It left me longing for someone with a young fresh sounding voice singing it (for example Jennifer Behnke, go look her up on soundcloud if you have no idea) but, it was still interesting to hear someone not known for Wagner, singing it.

Then we had selections from my favourite opera to end, Meistersinger. Some choruses and the prize song from the final act. Again, I now want to find Stuart singing Walther von Stolzing, just so I can go hear him in a staged production. That chunk was enough, to tell me I could sit through any abominable eurotrash production, if he was singing it.

So there you go. Some truly glorious singing, a couple of awkward repertoire choices aside for the forces involved, but a fabulous concert none the less. Go hear Stuart if he is near you, there really is no one else who can do what he does, anywhere near as well…





Wednesday, May 01, 2013

Bryn: in recital



So, Bryn Terfel, row F, so close you can see him spit as he sings, but not close enough to need an umbrella. And yes, he is every bit the amazing performer we know and love, up close as well.

Having said that, I admit, I suspect that if say, 3 years ago, I had been to a similar concert I would have been much more impressed, than last night. The years of working on heavier rep are showing on his voice, and now and then his voice showed that. But, when you have been working at the peak of the opera world, as Bryn has, for more than 20 years, basically from when you first started professionally, you do tend to expect a few signs of wear and tear. A few shouty notes that were flung, not placed, and a tendency for some of his louder pieces to come across as forced, not controlled, were the signs I was seeing.

But, having said that, we came to hear Bryn, the man, the humour, and his music, and we got that in a generous serving. He introduced the thought behind his programming in a brief chat before he sang. His first teacher at the Guildhall School of Music introduced him to the glories of English song (and especially through the poetry of John Masefield) so, we started with those. Songs that evoke the experiences of someone who moved around, exploring the UK, writing down reflections of what was seen. The second half was devoted to German lieder, based on the experience with his second teacher, Rudolph Piernay.

Throughout the evening, Bryn's diction was exemplary. Most of the time every word could be heard clearly, a feat that many singers struggle with. A reflection of the focus on German repertoire for much of his career perhaps? Or just a determination to get it right? Either way, it was impressive and pleasing. (And a lesson to young singers. If a large Wagnerian voice can be clear, so can you)

He also was very clear with the songs he sang to make them very much his own. Stretch a note here, emphasise something there just a little differently, to make a point. Always, it related to the words, or the music, always justifiable, even if not necessarily what we might call "good taste" But, he always had a reason for doing so, these were his interpretations, his performances, and if you did not like it, quite frankly, well you were at the wrong concert. His performances may not be the ones I would necessarily want on CD, but as live performances, they were compelling.

After the songs based on Masefield poems, we had a group of Roger Quilter songs. When I hear Roger Quilter, I often realise I know so little of his music and should learn more. Again, that happened here. A couple of beautiful songs, then a break for interval.

After interval we were firmly into German Lieder territory, starting off with a rip roaring Der Beiden Grenadiere, which, while full of enthusiasm, brought home how much Bryn's voice has changed. This is not the thing of beauty that won the lieder prize at the Cardiff Singer of the World contest, but rather, a matured voice showing signs of wear and tear, albeit one being used by a consumate showman of a singer. He was hear to entertain, and that he delivered in spades.

So, after that disappointment, to hear him sing such beautiful pianissimi in the quieter songs (including the one above) was a revelation. Frankly, the choices of Litany for the Feast of All Souls and to Sing on the Water were a demonstration that, while the voice may not be what it was, the artistry and technique behind it is still phenomenal. I think it is also the first time I have heard to Sing on the Water sung successfully by a large male voice, as opposed to a high light soprano.

He also had a lot of fun with the Trout, leaving me in no doubt, Bryn likes to fish. It was another case of Bryn as showman, rather than Bryn as fine musician, even though, to get there he had to be the latter, as well as the former.

He finished with a few "traditional Celtic songs" - Danny Boy, Passing By, All through the night and Loch Lommond, the last two getting audience involvement. How many of you can say you have sung with Bryn? (I can now)

And then for the (in a performance like this, mandatory) encores, we had "the Big Brown Bear" (which seems to be a common encore for him) and finally the entry into Valhalla from Das Rheingold, with amazing playing by Sharolyn Kimmorley. It wasn't the huge orchestration of Wagner, but she was able to create the sense of immensity that the orchestra creates at that point of the score, immensity, inevitability and finality. The fact she was was able to do that, after playing the mostly much more lyrical and flexible accompaniments of the songs, speaks volumes to how much an integral part of the concert she was. It also says something to me, that when he sang that small chunk of Wagner, he seemed to be singing what felt right. However enjoyable the evening had been, he is now, and is indelibly stamped, with the Wagnerian Baritone label, which is not a bad thing. Many of us remember thinking at the time he first burst onto the international opera scene with his Cardiff win, and his performance at the Saltzburg Festival as Joachanaan, that this is where he would be, given time. How right we were.

So, as much as I would have liked to have sat and listened to him sing an evening of his big signiature roles with orchestra, hearing him sing songs with piano accompaniment was a reminder of just how versatile he really is. And a very potent reminder of just how significant a performer he has been throughout his career. A great talent, with a charming presence, and a genuine pleasure in performing for others. Would that all were like that.


 
Bryn in 1989 (Cardiff Singer of the World contest)



Monday, April 15, 2013

The post apocalyptic fertile land of the soul that is Parsifal





Start by playing that video, and let that sound start washing over you. That glorious rich, lush, languorous sound of music from Parsifal, conducted by Daniele Gatti, who conducted the performance I just saw. He chooses tempi that are rather slow, making it a longer opera than normal. But, he also gives a very good case for playing it slower, bringing out detail and generally wringing every last depth out of the score.

And what a score it is! Wagner's last opera is quite something if you are new to his work. Its long, and very meditative. Much of the opera people spend time explaining what has happened, or why something is happening. The action, such as it is, mostly happens in the second and third act, yet the first is over 2 hours long. Yes, that is a lot of character development, and backgrounding, but this is an opera where "time here becomes space" as Gurnemanz tells Parsifal. Its also an opera rich in meaning and symbolism, that people argue over, trying to get a grasp on what is it about, and why does it grip us so.

For me, it has always been about redemption, both personal and as a group. It is about trying to find your place in the world, and learning to accept it. There is also an element of the standard fantasy novel that revolves around a young hero who has to go through a series of trials to find his way in the world. Though, in this case, the mythology is based firmly on the holy grail myths of the medieval period, not something pulled out of the post Tolkein leftovers of so much bad writing.

So, as you would expect, The Met pulled out a very starry cast for this production. This was a joint production that was already mounted at Opera Lyon, but with a very different cast. The director has opted to allow the story to tell itself, while updating the setting to the current, or indeed, slightly into the future. The set mostly is a hillside that appears to be post some ecological disaster. The ground is dry and cracked, with a stream that runs down the slope with a bend in it, dividing the stage up. During the first act, the stream starts flowing red. Is it representing the wound of Amfortas who is being washed when it happens? Or reflecting on how he fell? Or is it a foretaste of the middle act set in Klingsor's castle, a nightmarish location where the floor is covered in blood, as if to give the impression we are inside the wound.

And yet, for all the non traditional elements of this production, it remains at its heart a traditional production. This is a production that has been stripped back to the basics. There are no amazing scene changes to dazzle the eye when we switch to inside the Castle of the Grail Knights. Rather, everything is outside. The costumes are all modern, and very plain, except for Kundry and Klingsor, who clearly fit outside the ordered world. Even the Flowermaidens have plain outfits, even if is just a plain white slip dress that gets wet in the blood.

But, for all that, it was a very carefully thought out production. The very ordinariness of the clothes, the barren landscape, the lack of gimmicks, it was all deliberate. This is a production where the performers were put front and centre. Where everything that was done, could be linked back to the score. To be sure, there were a couple of exceptions where certain things happened in ways that were not as written by Wagner, but in this modernist take on a traditional production, they made sense. And, never once did anything jump out as wrong, or jarring, it flowed logically and seamlessly to the expected conclusion.

So, to the cast. This was the sort of cast you expect when you go to The Met, but only rarely get anywhere, a cast where there is no weak link, where every lead performer is both well known in the opera world, and well cast. Where you just sit back and revel in the sheer beauty of what is unfolding in front of you, and loose yourself in the magic that is Wagner's Parsifal.

So, at the heart of Parsifal, we had the seemingly inexhaustible René Pape as Gurnemanz, the wise knight who is our guide through much of the action. In most operas, having sung as much as he did in the first act, his job would be done, yet in the third act, he is there mourning his friend Titurel, discovering the return of Parsifal. It is he who sees what has happened, and realises that truly he has found in him, the pure fool who will heal and redeem the knights. There is something about the humanity that Pape brings to this role. Its the only way to describe it, but he is the humane heart, his actions are driven by his love for his fellow knights, and humanity in general. It is hard to imagine others bettering this role, but he will remain the model against which I judge all others.









As Kundry, the almost eternal woman, we had the glorious voiced Katarina Dalayman. Another experienced Wagnerian, she worked to bring life to a character who seems to be different in each act. Here, she succeeded as much as can be expected. Her performance often felt like watching an amnesiac, as if Kundry could not remember what had gone before, and yet at others she was the all wise woman, who knows far too much. It worked effectively, even if the seduction of Parsifal ended up feeling like watching your mother try to seduce someone. Somehow the sexy got lost amongst the motherhood for me, leaving me unconvinced, except realising that there was a spell involved in bringing the attraction. And again, vocally, this was a big powerful, seeming tireless performance. To be sure, some of her quieter moments sounded less pleasing than her loud ones, but it was more a quibble than a complaint. This was a big sound, fully controlled and a seamless performance of a role she understood and lived.

As the wounded Amfortas, we had Peter Mattei, singing the role as if he was born to it. To be honest, I was not expecting him to be so successful in the role. For me, he was always more the lighter Mozartean voice. Shows how much you need to hear voices live to understand them I guess. However, he lived that role. The agony he faced, was painfully obvious with every move. His deliberate decision to crawl into his father's grave, to die with him and end the suffering was a logical step in his pain, as well as worked well to help hide the removal of the wound from his skin when time. And he sang the role well, full of anguish, yet still beautiful sounds.

Yet ultimately this is Parsifal of course, so the production depends on a tenor who can produce the goods. And yes, we had that. Jonas Kaufmann is both a consummate actor, and a powerful singer. Part of me wanted a different singer in this role, because I have a connection with two tenors who have made the role their own. Yet, really, who can fault Kaufmann? He gives all to the role. And brings the lost soul from the beginning to the man who brings wholeness to the knights. It really is a remarkable performance, proving why for many he is the go to singer for many of the Wagner tenor roles.



So, really, what can I say? This was a performance to marvel over, of an opera that dares to ask questions that do not always have answers. It challenges you to think about your actions, to look to yourself and your own actions. Will you rise to the occasion when the big decisions come as Parsifal did? Or, will you fail, and succumb as Amfortas? Yet, even as you ponder those questions, you are left with the glorious music, especially those big transcendent choruses, always demanding more. i fear they will haunt me for a long time to come. And I welcome this.

Thursday, March 21, 2013

Carmen as spectacle



This video shows Rinat Shaham from the OperaAustralia mainstage poduction, a production full of "authentic" Spanish flavours, with flamenco dancing and period touches. Last night's rehearsal I attended showcased the same marvellous singer as Carmen, but much of the rest was very different.

First of all, I have to say, beforehand, I was wondering was it fair to even review a dress rehearsal, even if it was the last before opening night. Well, by the time of interval, I had no doubt it was appropriate. The only things I had found to complain about was some of the audio levels as they worked to adjust the sound levels for various singers, and some curiously non-choral sounding chorus work, which sounded like only some singers' microphones were working. That appeared to be less noticeable by the end, so it may have been just some were not turned on, or similar. Minor teething pains tho, for what was a great performance.


So, as you can see, great seats for a big show.  And, yes, there was lots of colour and movement. The full chorus of Opera Australia, a large group of dancers, and supernumeries besides. And yes, the Carmen at the back of the set is backwards, precisely to declare to the outside world what is going on. We in the audience all know its Carmen. You can probably make out some of the outline of the bull that gets lit up in the last act. What is not so obvious is the fact that the back of the stage is effectively a scaffolding, that is used to good effect at times, especially at the bullfight, as people crowd it, looking into the (unseen) arena that is beyond. Also, the 2 cranes on either side that are used to fly in several set pieces, (a tank, a truck, a shipping container, and even, a cast member)

There are numerous places at the back of the stage to exit, and there is a large ramp that descends from the centre of backstage at various times, to represent the entry to the cigarette factory, and the entrance to the bullfight arena. Not to mention, of course, you can also enter and exit via the walkway that extends to the front on either side. The orchestra are located under the stage, and are not seen until the end, when they come up for air, err, come up for their bows.

So, Gale Edwards has put together a production that plays to a non opera experienced crowd. There is (as mentioned) lots of colour and movement, and the story is played out with broad strokes, going for a literal telling, even if the costuming and staging make it clear we are talking Carmen set in the 1950's, not the 1830 of the novella by Merimée. Working with the designers Brian Thompson and Julie Lynch, an image of Spain has been created, albeit one that is definitely viewed through French eyes, as both Bizet's music and the original French novella were.

And what glorious music it is. The habanera, the seguidilla, the flower song, the smuggler's quintet, the card trio, the toreador's song, Michaela's aria, the grand chorus scene that opens the final act. This is an opera that everyone knows the big numbers from, and they were all delivered brilliantly. Under Brian Castles-Onion, the music was well served with that Gallic-Spanish mix we all know so well. Yes, some of the first act lacked some cohesiveness in a few spots, not helped by the mic issues mentioned before, but that was cleaned up before the next act.

 And the singers you say? Well, funny you should mention that. As per the video above, we had the stunning Carmen specialist Rinat Shaham in the lead. As expected, her earthy toned mezzo was used to great expressive effect, giving a performance that was by turns devil may care, vengeful, spiteful, coy, seductive, all those things that make a great Carmen. Yes, some of the tonal variations may have been lost, and some of the subtleties of her performance, but,  singing mic'd also gave her a lot more freedom of expression, allowing a broader range to be painted, rather than a more focused one.

As her lover Don Jose, Dmytro Popov brought a glorious tenor voice to the role. To be honest, I am not sure this is a voice that is ready to sing Don Jose in a normal production, but amplified, without having to force his voice over the orchestra, he brought a beautiful sweet tone to the role. Normally a role sung by dramatic tenors, he made a good case for a more lyrical voice to sing the role. He certainly did not lack dramatically, but this was a voice for melting hearts, not a voice to make you fear.  Having said that, there was no doubting the passion he sang of, or his desperation as he realised Carmen was never his.





Here he is singing Che gelida manina from La Boheme. Its a glorious voice, but not what you would expect for Don Jose, but, strangely, it worked.

As Michaela, we had the lovely Nicole Carr, bringing her lyric goodness and determination to the role. I also have to give her full points for singing her big act 3 aria, perched high in the air. I would not have felt comfortable up there, let alone sing one of the bigger arias in my repertoire on my knees, while up there. But, she did, and did it convincingly. She brought that moment of calm in the storm of emotions convincingly, our one touch of normality.

And that leaves Escamillo, sung by Andrew Jones, to bring up the rear of the big four leads. This role forever will be associated with Robert Merril for me, so needless to say, it is hard to find a singer who can do it justice today to my ears. That said, he was not bad, just its hard to find a Robert Merril! Escamillo arrived via a car driven to the stage front, with full movie star treatment. It really captured the feel of the adored toreador, bringing it to life in a way the audience can relate. It was both effective and entertaining.

Of course, there were also the other four gypsies who all sang their fiercely difficult quintet with Carmen, tossing out the masses of words as if they were the easiest thing in the world, not a nightmare of timing and precision. All four sang with great diction, bringing them to us as larger than life figures, used to hiding in shadows.

So, to sum up? A lavish night's entertainment, sung very well, and brought to life vividly. No, it won't change the world, but it might change the way some people think about opera. And for me, that sounds pretty fantastic!





 Rinat singing the Seguidilla in a production in Israel (with Neil Shicoff as Don Jose)






Sunday, March 03, 2013

4 fantastic singers? 5 pretty good ones




So Il Trovatore, that opera where we have to believe that a mother threw the wrong baby in the fire, and then raised her enemy's son to destroy his biological brother. Well, yes, it is an opera, so there is always a certain amount of disbelief required, but, that's opera for you.

First of all, I have to say, this was a surprisingly even cast. There were no stand out bad performers the whole night. That also means of course, there were no stunningly good ones either (like Monserrat Caballe at the top) . Instead, we had a night of well sung, well acted, if not always thrilling opera.

This production was the Elke Neidhardt production that is shared between the various state opera companies here. It resets the opera to the Spanish Civil war, but never really tells you which side who is on. All you know (indeed, all you really need to know) is that Di Luna and Manrico are on opposite sides.) The sets consist of a series of grey walls that get rearranged from time to time. They all show signs of war damage, and get moved to indicate changes of location for each scene. They worked very effectively, especially coupled with the very effective moody lighting.

There were no obvious "regietheatre moments" that made you scream "what the?" but a mostly sensibly directed opera, that focused on telling the story clearly. Ok, so maybe the moment of gratuitous total male nudity with the arrival of the new recruits was not necessary, but it did lighten up the scene (and the supers were very pretty)

Now, to the performers, because, as is mythologised, this opera stands or falls on the four leads (I would argue five, but hey, who says singers can count?)

First off, when you get a notice on your seat that a singer has been swapped for health reasons, you normally sigh a little. Well, when I heard the Ruiz was swapped (admittedly a small role) I was quite pleased. My previous experience of the singer in question left me wondering why he had been cast. Instead, we had Sam Roberts-Smith, who I hope we hear a lot more of. As Ruiz, he sang only a little, but left us wanting to hear more, and liking what we heard. Why the other singer was cast in the first place still leaves me scratching my head, knowing his replacement was available at the time...

Now, frankly, Daria Masiero is no Monserrat Caballe (or for that matter, Angela Meade, or Latonia Moore) but she is a fine singer with a big voluptuous voice of the type needed. To be sure, I would prefer one both larger, prettier and better controlled, but we are talking dream casting vs affordable casting. For a company that cannot afford the A list singers, Daria is pretty good. No fluffed notes, nice even sound and plenty of power to bring to those exciting climaxes Verdi gives. To be sure, she does not sound as in control of her voice as Latonia Moore (or Angela Meade, who I have only heard via recordings) but there was nothing wrong with what she did. We are talking degrees, more the difference between something I consider acceptable, to something truly glorious. She was workmanlike would be my comment.

Likewise, Arnold Rawls. As the evening progressed, his voice definitely eased into the role, sounding less tight. Sometimes he sounded  not entirely comfortable in the role in the first act. But by the second act he was sounding truly heroic, his C on "Di quell piera" was something to behold, if a touch OTT for the purists. I say, if you have it like that, use it!!!!

The surprise of the evening for me was Michael Honeyman as the Count di Luna. This was the fourth time i have heard him recently, so you can understand why I was shocked when I heard him. I have always liked his voice, but I long to hear the voice that he has yet to become, instead of the smaller sound we have been getting. Well, somewhere between last year and this production, he has found that big sound. WOW! Suddenly, its like he had a big break through in vocal technique and the sound is much fuller, richer and just plain bigger. Im really looking forward to hearing what happens in the future now.

Our bass for the evening was of course, the reliable Richard Anderson as Ferrando. Quite why the captain of the guards became a priest in this production, I am not sure, but it did not detract too much from the story. Indeed, it only occurred to me later that he is not normally a priest. Too many Italian operas have priests that do everything they shouldn't I guess..

And finally, we had Milijana Nikolic as Azucena, the mother who threw her son on the fire by mistake, intending to throw the Count's brother. Previously, I have not been that impressed by her. This time I was convinced. Her Strida la vampa and the scene following with Manrico were stunning. In many respects that scene became the emotional centre of the opera in this performance.

And of course, as usual, the chorus sang well, swapping frequently from being soldiers to freedom fighters and back again.Im sure there was lots of men changing back stage in the wings…

So I will leave you with our tenor. Not perfect, but pretty damn good, and certainly worth paying for.























Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Thoughts post Trojans from The Met



Right, yes, I know the above link is not from Les Troyens from the Met but is from the Covent Garden production by David McVicar with Anna Caterina Antonacci, but such is the strength of her performance in Trojans, that any discussion about another production inevitably has to reference her, so I thought I would throw it in at the start. This is the finale of Act 2, the final scene in Troy before the opera moves to Carthage with Enée and his entourage, en route to Italy. It is without a doubt the most glorious mass suicide scene I know in opera, and ACA in the role of Cassandre is intensely haunting and musical. She lives the role of a somewhat maddened oracle, not wanting to see what she is seeing, and haunted by it. Her performance was mesmerising and gripping, as well as being beautifully sung. Friends who went reported being haunted by her for days after.

By contrast, the Met had Debbie Voigt, a very different singer. While ACA is very definitely zwischenfach, Debbie is defiantly dramatic soprano. She lacks the darkness of tone that ACA brings, and frankly needs in this role. She also reportedly found the lower range of it a challenge in some of the earlier performances. This I would believe. Having said that, Francesca Zambello's production also makes Cassandre a very different beast to McVicar. In McVicar, she revels in the oddness of being prophetic, even as the visions she sees frighten her. She is shunned only because she brings bad news, not because she is odd. In the Met, she is cast in the weird woman/witch/evil keep away mode, even though she seems eager to lose the visions. It is more her being prophetic despite wanting it, rather than clearly revelling in the role, as in the McVicar.

Its a valid choice, but the McVicar provides the more exciting performance. Yes, ACA is a better actress, but I think it is also the direction made it work. Having Deb Voigt run round the stage trying to get people's attention, only to have them all run away in fear made her seem less a figure we cared about, while ACA was defiant in her isolation, and seemed to almost revel in it, when people would not listen. A curious distinction, but one that helps to explain why one was vastly more compelling. It seemed more organic to the story, and less an idea imposed from the director, if you will.

Having said that, if I had not seen the Covent Garden production first, I would have been very happy with Deb's performance. She sang securely, with depth and feeling. This is a demanding role, and a big one, and she was convincing, just left me wishing I had seen her first, not second. On the other hand, if I had seen this production first, would I have bothered with the Covent Garden as well?

As her fiance, we had Dwayne Croft, who brought a larger voice to the role than I gave him credit from his stint in Das Rheingold as Donner. He sang as a man who clearly did not understand his wife to be. At times I was not convinced he was in love with her, rather, this felt more like an arranged marriage, yet they sang of love...

The other performer of note in the Trojan acts was of course Bryan Hymel, the surprise tenor of the Covent Garden Trojans, who replaced the ill Jonas Kaufmann. Here, he took over for Marcello Giordani, who pulled out, realising this role was no longer right for him (was it ever?) Bryan brings a huge bright tenor sound with clarion focus to this role. All I think I need to say about him is, if he is singing a big tenor role near you, make sure you go hear him. Hell, for that matter, you could probably hear him from outside most theatres, that voice has cut and heft to carry for days. And he can sing this role easily at 33!!!! (Enée normally goes to Wagnerians) Enée is a role that is already something of a specialty for him, and will remain so. He lives this role, singing it with passion and power, and also lyricism as required.

Having said that, special mention must be made of the chorus in this production. When the Met puts on their full chorus, with extras, you know the show must need it. There was (I believe) about 110 in the chorus for this production. It showed, and they sounded fantastic. They sang beautifully off and on stage, and portrayed their various roles well, be they soldier, sailor, farmer, wife, whatever.

After Troy, the next acts all move to Carthage where the beautiful Didon rules over a happy peaceful community founded after they fled from Phoenicia at the death of her husband. As Didon we had the glorious sounds of Susan Graham, with her sister played by Karen Cargill, one of the few none US based singers. As a pair, they were well matched, both big luscious voices and strong stage presences. Having said that, watching Karen Cargill is an entertaining experience all in itself. Unlike most singers, who when they sing the effort shows on their face, on Karen's face, there is no sign of the effort she is putting in to produce the sound. Sure, her mouth stretches open as she shapes the sounds, but her cheeks and eyes show no sign of the effort she is doing. There is an almost serene relaxation happening when she sings, allowing her to express what ever she wants, unencumbered by the effort to achieve the sounds she is producing. At times it seemed almost disconnected, but after seeing some appalling face pulling on stages recently as singers fought to produce the right notes, it was a very welcome change.

As Didon, Susan Graham produced glorious tones and a performance that started distant but approving of her subjects, to passionate lover of Enée, to unhinged wronged woman when she is left. She never once lost character or produced sounds that were not beautiful or musical. She also clearly enjoyed partnering with Bryan as her love interest.

Also featured were Kwangchul Youn as Narbal Didon's chief minister and Eric Cutler as Iopas, her court poet. Both sang well, bringing to life their roles, even if Iopas spends a lot of time onstage, but not singing.

At this point I also need to mention the ballet. Now, it is French grand opera, so I get you need ballet. But really, do we need ALL of it? The ballet in act 4 seems to take over half an hour. You also have ballet music in earlier acts. Surely some of the Royal Hunt music should be dropped to bring the length under control if you are going to do Les Troyen in one night? I mean, it is 5 hours of music, surely we can cut some of it? The ballet does seem an obvious place to shorten, especially if you decide to use it to re-enact some of the story. The whole story comes to a grinding halt for half an hour, then we have some discussion about the 2 lovers, then we get their glorious duet. Did we really need all the ballet to stop the story completely before that?

The next act of course is where everything goes horribly wrong for Didon. Enée abandons her then sings his biggest solo (see below) and after various of his group sing their own solos, he has harsh words with Didon and they sale off leaving her bereft. She then has a complete meltdown on stage and kills herself, prophesying of the coming of Hannibal from Carthage to destroy the city of Rome Enée is off to build.

Now, I have to say that the biggest difference between the two productions I have referred to would be the theatricality of the productions. One was an unashamedly modern mishmash of scenery that clearly represented specific places without caring about the time. It created great effects in a small space and forced you into its own world.

The other was a less showy event but that used more. More people, more space, more levels on stage. Yet rather than making you feel more in place, you felt less a part of the event. Too much was spent on creating the look of something, without actually being that thing. Somehow in not even trying to be historically accurate but socialogically accurate, the Covent Garden worked, while the Met production somehow failed, because it kept paying lip service to what it thought things should look like, without following through on them. So the modern items jarred against the authentic, stopping the illusion taking hold.

So, on the whole, I found the Met production a bit of a blancmange. Much of it was great, but I found things about it that left it feeling less than the some of the whole.

But, I'll leave you with Bryan singing his big aria in the final act, which is amazing.