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• New address

I am in the middle of a process of rearrangement of this website - and step no. 1 was the experimental transference of this blog to a Wordpress weblogging site. I explain more about that there. If the experience is successful, this page here is going to be only an index to re:opera and probably to the James King and Jess Thomas pages. I still have to figure out what I am going to do with the remaining content.

BTW, if you have any suggestion about the new blog, I would be more than glad to hear it.

Sunday, February 17th 2008

• Unheimlich homeliness

The Homecoming is one of Harold Pinter's most famous plays and deservedly considered a "modern classic" in theatre literature. In 1965, its element of épater la bourgeoisie probably caused many an eyebrow to raise, but today the characteristically dry dialogues and the still efficient volte-face may suggest it is rather a black comedy. Maybe this has misled director Daniel Sullivan to allow a rather charicature approach in two actors in key roles, what finally unbalanced the whole concept of this production. Both Eve Best and Raúl Esparza are incredibly talented actors - especially he, whose alertness on stage keeps you at the edge of your seat throughout - but I could understand neither his Dr. Strangelove-imitation for the character of Leonard nor her overpoised artifficial-on-purpose Ruth. Their acting clashed with the naturalistic approach adopted by the remaining members of the cast and the final result had a certain schyzophrenic feeling about it. Both Ian McShane's barely repressed violence and Michael McKean's embittered subsiveness were portrayed with mastery, as one should expect from such experienced actors. Gareth Saxe survived the danger of a too mannered and/or restricted palette for his Joey, but I am afraid I found James Frain's Teddy rather blank. Maybe there was a point in showing no change in his attitude after the dramatic shifting in the relationship between the other characters in the second part of the play, but I could not get it. I must finally point out Eugene Lee's convincing realistic and detailed sets.

Friday, February 15th 2007

Carmen, the bullfighter

Although I dislike the pastel-coloured Seville recreated by Franco Zeffirelli for the Metropolitan Opera, I thought that maybe Olga Borodina could add some zest to the proceedings and tried my luck this evening. I am an admirer of this Russian mezzo-soprano, but I had the impression she might be too formidable for the role. However, as this truly special artist has done with many roles not easily associated with her voice and personality, she made it her own.

I don't want to sound ungracious, but Borodina doesn't have the figure and the legs of some singers previously featured in this production, such as Nancy Fabiola Herrera or Denyce Graves - but that does not faze her at all. As portrayed by Borodina, Carmen is neither flirtatious nor sluttish, but rather an affair of panache. Her forceful attitude, her appetite for life, her independence of character makes her rather a conqueror than a seductress - and that is a very good psychological point. It is also true that Borodina's earthy mezzo-soprano has nothing French about it, but its endless repertory of resources is entirely used to make sure that both the music and the text are dealt with with intelligence and sensitivity. She handles the often abused grace notes with accuracy, scales down for velvety mezza voce when this is required and has amazingly clear French vowels. If I had to be critical about her singing, I have noticed since her last Amneris at the Met a certain harshness in her forte top notes that didn't exist a couple of years ago.

The role of Don José fits Marcelo Álvarez's dulcet yet strong tenor. Although his approach is a bit lachrymose (that was a bit of a turn-off in the Flower Song), he can hold an elegant line and, whenever he does it, it is always really pleasant in the ear. He is not a bête de scène, but - maybe because he comes from Argentina - he does rather well his macho routine.

Maija Kovalevska has a rather pretty sweet voice, a basic requirement for Micaela, but I have the impression she was a bit overparted. Some high-lying phrases sounded a bit tense and she had to compensate it a bit with "acting with the voice". Truth be said, she was one of the most energetic Micaelas I have ever seen - I almost thought that nothing really scared her.
Lucio Gallo's baritone has become rather juiceless these days, but he was able to keep focus in the role's low tessitura, what is always a challenge to high baritones. All minor roles were excellently taken and ensembles certainly benefited from that.
From bar one in the overture, one could see that Emmanuel Villaume's idée fixe was making it fast and exciting - in the end I've only really got the lack of polish. Some of Carmen's most "colourful" pages do require a more sophisticated approach - otherwise it may - as it did - sound like small-town band music.

Silly announcement

It seems that nobody here uses anymore the word "actress" for a woman. Now girls are supposed to be actors. Just to say I am not endorsing that new "usage". In this website, girls are actresses and boys are actors. Not only does the traditional way make it easier to write clearly, but - if you have an experience with theatre as I have - you'll know that actresses are really different from actors (thank God!).

Wednesday, February 13th 2007

Der Moor von München?

Last time I saw Renée Fleming, Johan Botha and Semyon Bychkov together was in 2005 and the opera was R. Strauss's Daphne. Although the opera this evening was Verdi's Otello, there was more than a splash of Strauss in the proceedings, which I found quite refreshing, to say the truth.

To start with, Bychkov offered an elegant account of the score, rounding many a sharp angle in Verdi's writing and producing ripe, dense orchestral sonorities, sometimes at the expense of his singers.

You all know I am not an unconditional admirer of Renée Fleming, but I cannot deny it is a pleasure to hear her in a role entirely convenient to her voice and attitude. She eschewed the ingénue cliché and offered a quasi-Arabellian aristocratic, proud and feminine Desdemona. Not only was her acting finely shaded, but also she was in excellent voice. Except for some mishandling of passaggio in her act II duet with Otello, she sang effortlessly and expressively throughout. Her Willow Song/Ave Maria combo aria excelled in ethereal floating creamy mezza voce and spiritual concentration.

In the title role, Johan Botha does not boast neither a dark nor Italianate sound, but his unusually pleasant Heldentenor filled Verdian phrasing with purity of line and musicianship. At this stage of his career, the role is not a stretch for him and he dealt with difficult tricky passages such as his opening Esultate! quite commendably. Although he lacked the emotional depth and the weight of sound to do full justice to moments such as Sí, pel ciel, he compensated that with sensitive and tonally varied accounts of scenes such as Dio, mi potevi scagliar. A subtle and touching performance.

Carlo Guelfi was more conventionally cast as Iago. Moments such as Credo in un dio crudel showed him operating a bit close to his limits, grey and woolly top notes involved, but his is idiomatic quality is one of his strongest assets. Among the minor roles, Wendy White's firm-toned vehement Emilia is worthy of mention.

I had not previously seen Elija Moshinsky's rather generalized if inoffensive production, but the costume designer deserves praises for the costumes created for Johan Botha.

Monday, February 11th 2007

It may roll, but it doesn't rock

I cannot say I am really surprised that Tom Stoppard's new play, Rock'n'Roll is everything but organic. As other plays by the same author, we are shown a fast succession of vignettes that only make sense in a very generalized way and his characters seem rather puppets for the purpose of making points. The plot outline is very simple - Jan is a Czech student in the 60's who studies in Cambridge with something like the British Ur-communist intellectual. Back to Prague, Jan only feels like listening to his Pink Floyd LP's but even if you have a very innocent hobby, a totalitarian State might find a problem with that. The backdrop involves the story of real-life Czech band Plastic People of the Universe, which became a symbol of that country's campaign for freedom of expression. All that could amount to an interesting and touching play, but the truth is that you are not made to care about these characters and in the end you just admire some high-level acting by Brian Cox and Sinéad Cusack. In the leading role, Rufus Sewell was so hoarse and yodeling that I had a bad time trying to understand his words and I am afraid this spoiled a great deal of the fun to me.

Considering the text's fragmentary quality, it is difficult to judge the directing's quality. I could see some effort to give unity and some clever stage contraptions and expert make-up and wigs to help that, but I am afraid that this was a lost cause, except for Cox, Cusack, some interesting if tangential discussions and for a great soundtrack.

Sunday, February 10th 2008

Ma non molto

The title role in Puccini's Manon Lescaut is a tough piece of casting. It is clearly a part for a soprano lirico spinto, but its constant shifting into the lower end of the soprano range will always be a test for any lyric soprano. I must confess that my heart beats for only one Manon in the discography, Renata Tebaldi. Only she is able to keep loveliness and femininity down there. I acknowledge Maria Callas's and Renata Scotto's brilliantly crafted accounts of this role, but the sound alone of their voices does not play the trick for me. Manon is the kind of woman who can turn all heads in her direction the minute she walks in. If the singer's tone lacks this inbuilt sexiness, she is just a clever girl pretending to be a beautiful one. And that is definitely what is wanted here.

Karita Mattila, for example, has it - her warm velvety soprano is sensuousness itself. Her In quelle trine morbide knocked the audience out in its sexy daydreaminess, for instance. However, at least at this stage of her career, Mattila's voice shies away both at the bottom and at the top of her range. Her low notes only pierce through if thrown in chest voice and her acuti lack tone and risk to go off track. She often disguises that with dramatic effects, but the frequentation of heavy roles is not doing any favour to her voice. In terms of characterization, her Manon has a rather modern approach - something of a Paris Hilton (prision scene included) without the inheritance. She performs the concept with skill, particularly in act II, when she is not afraid of going larger than life. Her closing scene, however, was very subdued and both soprano and conductor went for a more exhausted than desperate Sola, perduta, abandonata.

I was suspicious about Marcello Giordani's Des Grieux. This is a tenor formerly identified with bel canto roles tackling a rather heavy part, but I have to say his instincts were right. His bright tenor showed no discomfort with this writing and he sang stylishly and sensitively throughout. Dwayne Croft was a rich-toned Lescaut and Sean Panikkar displayed a healthy, likeable tenor in the small role of Edmondo.

James Levine is an exemplary Puccinian, building rich textured sonorities without drowning his singer in orchestral loudness - his subtle handling of the intermezzo was most refreshing.

The old production with Desmond Heeley's sets and costumes has aged rather well - I have to confess that Manon is one of those operas I prefer to see in a traditional staging - its minuets, wigs, deportations to the colonies etc do not go with cocktail parties, telephones and airplanes.

One (or rather 2/3) more Walküre

From the first bars of today's performance of Wagner's Die Walküre, one could say what a difference a new conductor makes. Donald Runnicles's fast tempi and extremer dynamic effects would replace Maazel's more balanced and organiz approach to the score, crowned by true nobility of orchestral sound. I don't imply that this was better than that or the other way round; only it is fascinating to compare. In any case, Runnicles's more extrovert theatricality seemed to have a positive effect on Lisa Gasteen, who offered a more nuanced Todverkündigkeit today.

Cast only for the last performance, Simon O'Neill (Siegmund) offered a less baritonal and also less powerful voice than Clifton Forbis's. Indeed, the newcomer's tenor tends to be open and metallic, but his feeling for legato is most welcome - also his enthusiasm, which managed to draw some commitment from the otherwise sleepwalking Deborah Voigt (whose indifferent delivery of the German text reached its apex with a verse composed by her carelessness: Erschaffung quick ich). The remaining members of the cast were consistent with their previous performances, only a bit more tested by a louder orchestra today.

Unfortunately, I could not stay for the third act. Thus, I missed the opportunity of checking how Runnicles would deal with the Valkyries and if Gasteen would similarly offer a more varied dialogue with Wotan in their last scene.

Saturday, February 9th 2007

Homeless together

I really like the concept of Brooke Berman's new play Hunting and Gathering. Although her approach to the subject would hardly make sense beyond the limits of the city of New York, the concept of settling in life and its relation with founding oneself a home is universal. Those who don't fit into the golden dream of succeeding in our contemporary Western modus agendi are left clueless to look for a place where they belong - and one could either let go and build something out of the remains or arm him(her)self for the hunt of what their want. What I dislike in Hunting and Gathering is the superficiality and the search for a sitcom-like cuteness. Some dialogues hit home beautifully but the next moment is drowned with gags that may entertain some but finally leads us astray from any conclusions the author could have proposed about the theme of her play.

The staging is simple, but intelligently crafted. Berman has a good hand for creating instantly recognizable characters - those are people who remind you of people you know - and, if her cast does not feature any outstanding actor, they are all really congenial and likeable, particularly Keira Naughton and Michael Chernus.

Friday, February 8th 2007

The Barber from Broadway

I have to confess I was first unimpressed by Bartlett Sher's production of Rossini's Il Barbiere di Siviglia for the Met - I thought that there was too much cuteness going on and that the sceneries did not work very well for those who were seated in the upper levels of the theatre. Maybe because my seat was very close to the stage this time, I finally warmed up to its all-for-laughs charm, especially when the level of acting was as good as seen today. The music values were better preserved this time. After a rather unclear overture, Frédéric Chaslin showed excellent control over the complex ensembles and led his soloists with helpful and attentive conducting. However, the 1,000,000.00 dollar-question will always be - how tonight's singers compare with a cast that I myself called to be of "golden age"-quality last year?

I won't lie - Elina Garanca cannot compete with Joyce DiDonato's extraordinary flexibility and technical abandon, but she proves to be a worthy successor in any other aspect. Her warm and creamy (and fuller) mezzo-soprano is always pleasant in the ear, she has a solid technique for the passagework, extraordinary ease with high notes, very good Italian and is also capable of producing exquisite piano singing when necessary, not to mention that she phrases stylishly. She also possesses excellent comedy timing and a most graceful stage presence. Although DiDonato was an engaging Rosina, I believe Garanca understood that her character is a Spanish girl and offered the kind of natural sexiness that has nothing to do with vulgarity typical of Mediterranean women.

The comparison between José Manual Zapata and Juan Diego Flórez is even more unfavourable in what regards technical finish. While the Peruvian is impressively accurate in passagework (let's not forget he would sing Cessa di più resistere without any hint of difficulty) and commands in alts as few tenors these days, the Spaniard does only justice to his runs and often lacks support both in extreme low and top notes. His trump card is the natural beauty of his voice and his good taste. While Flórez cut a more Romantic figure last year, Zapata finally convinced the audience with his irresistible sense of humor and vitality in spite of his absence of physique du rôle.

There is no doubt about Franco Vassallo's exceptional vocalism. His baritone sails through the tessitura from bottom to top notes with impressive confidence and his adeptness with fioriture is truly impressive. He is also a funny guy entirely at ease in such a showman's part. However, I can't help missing Peter Mattei's intelligent and hilarious performance, far richer in detail than Vassallo's. If the Italian baritone displays more flamboyant vocalism, Mattei's singing was similarly accomplished and satisfying.

Replacing an ailing Maurizio Muraro, Paul Plishka proved he still has the energy of a man half his age. I was particularly impressed by the way he mingled in such finely knit teamwork, which is the hallmark of this production, and interacted with his stage partners. His voice is still firm and spacious (actually, he was in very good voice), but the patter of his big aria will always be a test for anyone born outside Italy. Ruggero Raimondi also showed some rusty edges in the part of Don Basilio, but this singer's amazing presence, forceful voice and dramatic intelligence never lets the audience down. I finally must point out that Jennifer Check's exquisitely crafted account of Berta's aria would be a serious threat to the sale of ice-cream in any opera house in the days of Rossini.

Thursday, February 7th 2007

Three Walküren in perspective

The first production of Wagner's Die Walküre I have ever seen was precisely the Otto Schenk/Günther Schneider-Siemssen at the Met back in 1997. I may have published my comments somewhere in this website, but the fact is that I remember it as if I saw it yesterday. Deborah Voigt was a creamy-toned Sieglinde and the fact that she was overweight posed no problem considering her dramatic engagement, Plácido Domingo was in beautiful if not entirely heroic voice as Siegmund, Hanna Schwarz looked short in her first appearance but seemed to end her scene taller than her Wotan so majestic was her bearing and so incisive was her singing and Gabriele Schnaut… Before you start grimacing, I can tell you that back in 1997 Gabriele Schnaut was a fantastic Brünnhilde. Except for tight top c's and the absence of mezza voce, she was just perfect. Our Wotan was James Morris and - what can I say? - he was more than perfect. He will always be my favourite Wotan. I know everybody says Morris is too smooth, but I think Wotan must have an apollonian (after all, he is the Lichtalberich - the dark one is Alberich Alberich…). I remember, though, that the orchestra was not in a good day and I would only acknowledge Levine's Wagnerian credentials in a superb Siegfried a couple of days later.

Seeing this production again eleven years later was like re-visiting in dreams people you have never seen again: there is a certain familiarity, but it is definitely not the same thing. To start with, although the sceneries still look beautiful in their Kaspar-David-Friedrich-ness , maybe it is time for a new production (even if it is another "traditional" one). I could neither sense any stage direction going on here - a regisseur pointing out entrances and exits at most. However, this performance breathes a fresh new excitement for me, due to the presence of Lorin Maazel at the pit. I don't know if this has to do with the maestro's legendary mastery of conducting technique, but rarely or maybe never have I listened to the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra in such great shape. Even the difficult passagework for the violins in the end of Act 1 was clearly articulated and you wouldn't believe the perfect blending of rich soft-textured strings and glowing woodwind in the Walkürenritt. Also, the brass players can be proud for the almost complete absence of blunders. Some have complained about Maazel's slow tempi - but that is nonsense. Not only do these tempi make musicians more comfortable for the extra polish displayed here, but also Maazel showed more than enough imagination to fill in the blanks offered by the more considerate pace. I was particularly impressed by the way the orchestra portrayed what Wotan explained to Brünnhilde in the long declamatory scene in Act 2 - that was the dictionary definition of what a truly Wagnerian conductor should accomplish as musical-dramatic expression.

Deborah Voigt has seen many changes in her life in these 11 years. Now she looks her part and seems even younger than she was in 1997, but as soon as you close your eyes, a shrewish tone, indifferent delivery of the text and complete absence of tone colouring soon dispel that impression. Only her big top notes remain to her advantage in this repertoire. Even her acting has become generalized and artificial. In that sense, I must admit that - in spite of her many flaws - I still preferred Lisa Gasteen's Brünnhilde. It is true that she started her performance with the Ho-jo-to-ho from hell, during which she sang not one note written by Richard Wagner, but this Australian soprano is a most intelligent and musicianly singer, who knows her German text as if that was her first language and who commands shapely and sensitive phrasing (provided she does not have to sing around a top a and above). I cannot deny that this is a significant drawback in this role and, as much as I am tempted to say that there must be one of those traditional tongue/throat/neck/you-name-it tension-problems impairing the flow of her top notes, I am more inclined to believe that she is no dramatic soprano, but rather a large-voiced lyric soprano trying to deal with hoch dramatisch roles. The basic sound of her voice is lyric to my years - it is a smooth, pleasant warm sound before it becomes tense in the higher reaches. She has all-right an impressively natural low register, but this is not a sign of a dramatic voice; otherwise, someone like, say, Carol Vaness would have to be labeled accordingly. Gasteen is also a very good actress and brought to her Brünnhilde a surprisingly teenage impatience and bravado, which I found particularly illuminating.

Michelle DeYoung's debut at the Met also happened in that 1997 Ring at the Met (cycle B, if I am not mistaken) - she was Fricka in Das Rheingold. I remember I had a more positive impression of her voice then than I had tonight. She was a small-scaled and rather shallow-toned Fricka in this Walküre, but she is also a cunning artist and her astute word-pointing finally helped her to make her dramatic points clear. Clifton Forbis was a reliable Siegmund. His tenor can get off focus now and then and his high register may sound bottled-up at times, but this is a healthy big voice and he achieves really impressive results sometimes, such as neverending crescendo in Wälse, Wälse, wo ist dein Schwert?

As for James Morris, it is true that his luxuriant bass-baritone has lost some weight and power in a decade and that his tone has also become a bit more nasal and his mezza voce less spacious - but I don't think any of his younger rivals can sing this difficult role as beautifully and expressively as he still does. I would add that his present resources are still entirely satisfying for this role - he still produces marvelous firm rich large sounds and anyone who saw him only tonight can claim to have seen the greatest Wotan of his generation.

Finally, Mikhail Petrenko is a decent Hunding, not particularly dark or menacing, but definitely unproblematic. I cannot forget to mention the impressive team of Valkyries gathered here - truly amazing.

You might have noticed that the title of this post mentions a third Walküre - it is the one to which I am listening right now on my iPod. It has also taken place at the Met and featured a famous conductor, but it also boasted the greatest cast of one's life, which - alas -was not the case of tonight's performance. I am talking about March 1st 1969, when Herbert von Karajan presided over another one of those greatest nights of the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra. I was told that Karajan smuggled in many musicians from the NY Philharmonic to achieve that, but those were days when the Met's house band had a notorious reputation. If you have never listened to this recording, don't miss one more minute: Birgit Nilsson, Régine Crespin, Josephine Veasey, Jon Vickers, Theo Adam and Martti Talvela, all of them in great voice, and also a plugged-in Karajan, oozing energy from the pit. Those were truly great artists and personalities. Some might say that there was actually a great clash of personalities then, but it has certainly paid off.

[I feel I might be rambling, but if you think that Karajan's rather highbrow DGG Walküre is a cosmetic affair, you should also sample his live performance at Salzburg, in which Régine Crespin and Gundula Janowitz are even more impressive than in the studio.]

PS - Maybe this has no importance, but I guess I saw Donald McIntyre near the box office at the Met. So I saw two Wotans at the same evening.

• Crossing the bridge

Maybe some of you might think that my comment is so last century, but the Brooklyn has always been the last frontier in my New York experience. For a foreigner, staying in Manhattan and showing up in the Nevins St. subway station (yes, to go to the BAM, I know…) is like turning off the Matrix. But I have always had an interest in Brooklyn. Maybe because I like the name (call it a Proustian thing, if you feel I need an upgrade in my narrow-mindness). So I have decided to have a Brooklyn-ian afternoon this time. I first decided to visit the Brooklyn Museum, which was supposed to have some masterpieces in European painting. I soon discovered that this part of the museum is closed until the next semester, but the building is certainly impressive in itself. The decorative arts floor is also worth the detour. Their reproductions of whole historical rooms and even houses makes you think you are in the settings of an Edith Wharton novel, for example. On visiting the American painting collection, I found a beautiful painting that receives no particular attention from the museum itself - they don't even sell a postcard of it in the Museum Shop. It is named "Two Sisters" and from the moment I saw it I could guess those were the painter's daughters for the lovingly way with which he portrayed these girls. I am really sorry I couldn't get a postcard… Here is the link for it: http://www.brooklynmuseum.org/research/luce/object.php?id=91556 (it looks far more beautiful in the flesh, I must warn you).

I really wanted to have lunch somewhere in Brooklyn, but I was clueless about finding a place. Timeout magazine guessed my thoughts and included in this week's issue a guide to the Ft. Greene neighborhood. They were right - it has a certain Notting Hill-iness about it and I have enjoyed a lot my lunch at a charming place called Ici. It is a rez-de-chaussée in white bricks in which only one waitress (the owner?) receives you in a very spontaneous and friendly way. They don't sell soda there, but you can have something that I would describe as an Apfelschorle with an attitude, which is called Fizzy Lizzy (Shake my lips before you put me to your lips is the bottle's saucy invitation). In any case, try their tarte tatin.

Wednesday, February 6th 2008

• Watchmaker's grace

Mick Gordon and AC Grayling's Grace could be a "difficult" play. The plot's summary on Timeout is not the most inviting: "A crusading atheist shaken by her son's decision to become a priest". Considering this is not a comedy by Bernard Shaw, the idea of highbrow lecturing did cross my mind - but who can resist the opportunity of seeing Lynn Redgrave? Fortunately, I was wrong. Grace is one of those plays that propose a discussion on serious relevant themes without giving too much of a didactic impression, although it runs dangerously close. Grace's saving graces (sorry for the jeu de mots) are the brilliant dialogues, multidimensional characters and the playwright's acute sense of timing, especially in what regards the needs of contrasting intellectual discussion with lighter situations. In any case, I would be lying that this is not one of those texts that require great acting otherwise they simply do not work. Therefore, I feel obliged to say that the excellent cast gathered here is the play's main feature. I would have gladly read Grace, but I need the likes of Redgrave to see it in the theatre.

One of the main challenges in staging a play such as this is to create emotional involvement in philosophical or political arguments and here you find them immerse in family relationship, what makes everything far more visceral than one could expect - and that redeems the play of cold braininess. In the title role, Lynn Redgrave is literally a force of nature whose campaign against what she calls an ignoble and irresponsible conviction about unproven things that only leads to violence (i.e., religion) is tested by the news that her only son, a lawyer who couldn't find piece of mind in his job, would become an Episcopalian priest. In his words, there is no war between atheism and religion, since atheism is restricted to intellectual milieus, while religion is a central part of everyone's life. Therefore, it should be important to combat "bad religion" with "good religion". But the mother takes it personally and, as much as religion, love can make people angry - and that is what you see here. It is a brilliant storyline and the bright dialogues are conducted in such an emotional level that it is impossible to resist. Redgrave does not need eulogizing - she is one of the greatest theatre actresses in the world - but, if you have not seen her before, you would be impressed by the intensity of her presence. She is on stage during the whole play, even in the scenes in which she doesn't take part and it is difficult not to turn your eyes from the actors delivering their lines to see what is her reaction to them. When an actor is intense as that, one might always fear that there might be no room for growing tension, but she seems to have inexhaustible reserves and produces a spine-chilling climax to the play.

Although Redgrave is probably the shining feature in this staging, she does not overwhelm it and has partners to her level here. As Grace's husband, Tony, Philip Goodwin offers genuine art qui cache l'art in an utterly likable performance. The role of Tom, Grace's son, is a challenge to any young actor and Oscar Isaac succeeds in keeping up in his intense dialogues with such formidable bêtes de scène. He is certainly a most talented actor. K.K. Moggie has the ungrateful task of playing the secondary role that gains momentum just before the end of the play. She is a skilled actress and achieves that, but one can see how difficult the proceedings are.

Director Joseph Hardy wisely highlights the actors' performances and eschews any kind of gimmick. The scenery is very simple and the astute use of lighting helps the audience to fly back and forth from the different moments in time portrayed by the text. I particularly like the idea of keeping in scene actors who are not included in the scene for dramatic purposes.

• Amazing Grace

OK. Now I am speaking of Grace Bumbry. Before I took my plane to New York, I had been busy recordings some CDs. A friend asked me for a tape with female singers. So I recorded a couple of arias with sopranos and mezzos. After the first listening, he said he liked Tatiana Troyanos, and I told him he had very good taste. Then he wrote me back saying that he was haunted by Olga Borodina's Mon coeur s'ouvre à ta voix. He even said she would have been condemned by sorcery in the Middle Ages! Seeing he was a mezzo-soprano-guy, I prepared him a mezzo-only CD and included Grace Bumbry singing Schumann's Wenn ich in deine Augen seh' (from Dichterliebe) and now it is my turn to be obsessed by a mezzo. Her singing of the verse Doch wenn du sprichst: Ich liebe dich! has the sound of love confession, it just bathes you in sensuousness and warmth. Truly, I'm in love with her performance of that song. If you see someone walking through the Upper West Side singing So muss ich weinen bitterlich, that is me :-)

A bit of Italy in Manhattan

I thought that there should be ONE good ice-cream parlor in New York. Grom was a sheer disappointment - it is just ok. But L'Arte del Gelato on Seventh Avenue South tastes like the real thing. The owner is Italian and all the traditional flavors are there. I found Dolce di latte could be better - maybe he should go for Argentinean-made dulce de leche to produce the real thing - but pistachio was note-perfect. I was so satisfied with it that I have decided to make the big step and asked for coffee [i.e., hoping I would not be served the horrid hot beverage found in the USA]. Well, it transported me back from Rome to the Seventh Avenue, but I intend to go back for the ice-cream.

Tuesday, February 5th 2007

• Holland's best export

There is an urban legend about the influence of the unique acoustic conditions of the Concertgebouw over its resident orchestra. According to it, the building's warm resonant acoustics has taught those musicians to produce rich yet lightweight sounds; otherwise, the results could be rather tangled and unclear. So I was told in Amsterdam.

I had seen the Concertgebouw orchestra previously in Rio in a completely uneventful R. Strauss's Metamorphosen + Mahler 5th bill, when the orchestra sounded plainly speaking opaque and grey-toned. But then the dry acoustics of Rio's Theatro Municipal could be responsible for the debacle. A couple of years later, I had the pleasure to witness a Ravel/Stravinsky programme with the famous Dutch orchestra in their own hall - and I was simply overwhelmed by its absolute clarity and beauty of tone. That was eight years ago.

Since then, I have sampled the Concertgebouw only through recordings - until today, when the fabulous orchestra more than fulfilled my expectations - it went far beyond. Under the admirable conductor Mariss Jansons, the orchestra shines at its best.

I have chosen a programme quite unusual for my traditional "German" concert preferences. Although Debussy's La Mer and Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique are hardly "unusual" repertoire, these are pieces I have seldom heard in live performances. Therefore, I cannot expertly compare today's concert with any particular one, but I don't really feel I need it.

In Jansons's hands, the orchestra poured liquid crystalline sounds in Debussy's score, every tiny detail played to its perfect effect. The violins' pianissimo playing could make even the Vienna Philharmonic envy. However, even that kaleidoscopic Debussy could not prepare the audience to the flashing performance of Berlioz's masterpiece. There the orchestra proved to have amazing consistence of tonal beauty through the complete dynamic range. Although Berlioz saw himself as a classical composer, scholars would rather label him as "proto-Romantic". That dichotomy, however, was not a problem for Jansons, who took advantage of both full-toned Romantic orchestral sonorities and hallmark classical transparence with perfectly blended woodwind. The waltz rhythms in the second movement revealed Viennese grace, the third movement featured organic coherence between the bucolic and tempestuous elements, the fourth movement was a showcase of dynamic control and the fifth benefited from an extremely wide-ranging tonal palette. An unforgettable performance.

Monday, Februay 4th 2007

• Euro-Allen

Woody Allen's "European" career has turned around a surprising search for a new style by a senior director and an obsession for the theme of guilt (maybe that comes with old age too, who knows?). I have to confess I wasn't convinced by Match Point. I sorely missed New York, fast dialogues, jazz music and less uptight actors. Scoop almost seduced me back with its "Alice"-like elegant comedy style, but again - if the idea was to be innovative, it felt strangely familiar.

On the other hand, Cassandra's Dream is a D.O.C European movie - it is Allen's first "mature" film in his new style, curious as it sounds. It flows in a denser but slower pace and its artless subtle imagery has a French almost Chabrol-ian self-indulgence. Philip Glass's soundtrack also gives it a certain old-fashioned gravitas, which fits the pale cinematography. I am tempted to say that these elements grant the movie a rather 60's-like atmosphere - and the presence of a boat and the interaction between the two leading men makes me think of Purple Noon, but I still feel that dialogues do not reach the same level of concentration found in the remaining dramatic elements. Some twists of the plot lack timing and end on seeming contrived and abrupt, what is particularly unsettling in a film that take some time to take off. I could say some share of the fault lies goes to two of my favourite members of the cast: I found Tom Wilkinson rather sketchy (it is, I must concede, a difficult part with not enough scenes for development) and I could not connect to Ewan McGregor's performance, which I found detached and uninvolved. In my opinion, he was overshadowed by Colin Farrell, in his best performance ever. The director demanded from him a crescendo in intensity that few actors could handle so convincingly as he does here. Both actresses are excellent - Sally Hawkins builds an engaging and spontaneous character, particularly moving in the second half of the movie and Hayley Atwell resists the temptation of vamp-ing her femme fatale and offers instead real sexiness and charm.

You might ask me if I have finally enjoyed the movie - yes, I have. Although I still believe that the script and some pieces of casting could have been improved, Woody Allen retains your attention and gets your involved in these characters' predicaments. In the end, this celebrated director's intent to renew himself at this point in his career is self-validating. How many geniuses have the courage to do so?

Sunday, February 3rd 2008

• Off to New York

As usual, I intend to update this blog through my notorious doc file.

Saturday, February 2nd 2008

• Come un baleno rapido

I remember a couple of years ago when this young sweet-looking pure-toned mezzo-soprano from the Czech Republic surfaced into the world of classical music media. I first saw her on video singing Bach's Kantate BWV 199 and was immediately converted into a Magdalena Kozena's fan. That said, I cannot state I have been an unconditional one - I believe that the French opera disc was a bit misguided (although there is much to cherish there) and the Handel disc... well, scroll down to read what I've said about it. But it seems that the fickle nature of the public has turned its thumbs downwards for a while and, as much as poor Angelina in Rossini's La Cenerentola, her luck has suddenly changed for a while. The ease with which she has been raised to fame has now become a constant effort to prove herself, which - in my opinion - is extremely unfair. Even when she is wrong, Kozena does not have to prove herself: she has already done it and proved she belongs into the list of serious artists in her generation (I would write "...of great singers...", but it seems that this kind of artistry is usually measured in dB and histrionics).

I don't know how wise was the idea of singing Rossini's Cinderella live in such an inauspicious moment in her career. I remember an old interview in which she said she did not see herself singing anything by the composer from Pesaro in the future, because she didn't feel connected to his music (truth be said, she mentioned then that Octavian in Der Rosenkavalier would be more like it, but I guess experience probably showed this was something like a pipedream for her). The outcome couldn't be less promising - reviews were cold at best.

I feel inclined to write that certain externalities has some share of responsibility in the lukewarm impression on Kozena's Cenerentola. By one of those coincidences made in hell, Cecilia Bartoli happened to be in town with her Malibran-on-the-road and include the Scene and Rondo finale from... La Cenerentola in the programme. It was expected from reviewers to compare them, but when an insensible one had the bad idea of liking Kozena better, the whole legion of Bartoli-fans started a gruesome campaign against the trespasser.

As I didn't happen to be in London, I have to rely on Parsifal's in-house recordings (and thank him for his generosity) to say anything. Before I say anything, I must confess the Roman Diva does not count me among her admirers but nonetheless I muss admit that she still sings the hell out of that scene. I just don't understand why Bartoli's so-called supremacy must mean that Kozena should be stoned for her beautiful performance. Yes, I said beautiful.

I was surprised to find, against what I should expect, her low register fully functional in that role. Also, her excursions to the extreme top notes sounded crystalline to my ears, not to mention her fioriture are admirably clean (as usual). I am not a die-hard believer in Italianate style and never resist Mozartian poise (yes, I belong to those who like Gundula Janowitz's Elisabeth, Gwyneth Jones's Aida, Tatiana Troyanos's Amneris [btw, I'll be poisting on this subject next]). However, maybe because Kozena does not has a natural feeling for Rossinian lines (as she herself has acknowledged), her performance is basically uncommunicative. She expresses little sense of infatuation in her duet with the Prince, does not convey the necessary party-stopping glamour in her arrival at the ball and is a bit mechanical in the closing scene (a slower pace might have helped her there, I reckon). However, her vocalism is always secure, musicianly and pleasant in the ear. Therefore, I consider the stern criticism against her rather mean. I would even say she was probably the must-see feature in the show: the settings are widely considered ugly, the orchestra was indisciplined (and the conductor didn't seem worried about making things less spectacular but tidier) and although Toby Spence sang well, the role is too high and fast for his voice and the results were rather hearty than charming. Of course, Simone Alberghini is a most reliable Dandini (as he was at the Met in 2005) despite a vibrato that can get loose sometimes and Alessandro Corbelli is a most experienced and charismatic if over-the-top Don Magnifico - but one could have sampled them in many other Cenerentole around the world.

Thursday, January 31st 2008

• Frankenstein Norma

If it were possible to put Maria Guleghina and Hasmik Papian in a blender, maybe the Metropolitan Opera House would have found an ideal singer for the fearsome role of Norma in Bellini's opera. But, alas!, life is never that simple. In any case, maybe because I had previously read all the trashing both singers have been receiving on-line, I have probably set my mind to find a positive note on their performances. And so I have. In their present shape, neither Guleghina nor Paspian could boast to be an exemplary Norma and they are even below the "but since Callas..."-excuse. That said, judging from the broadcasts of November 12th (Papian) and November 26th (Guleghina), I can honestly say that neither of them has covered themselves with shame.

It is difficult to tell which is Papian's original Fach after all sorts of manipulation she has employed to sing roles such as Norma or Aida (incidentally, the only role in which I saw her live), but I would bet she is a lyric soprano whose former fresh-voiced self should have gone into the Desdemona-Amelia-Elisabetta slot. Her basic tone is still her main asset - hers is a pleasant velvety voice, reasonably flexible (although her coloratura is in the almost-off-track style), but whenever the line is too low, too high, too fast or requires the minimal cutting edge, the sound becomes helplessly bleached out. I cannot tell if she has little imagination or if overpartedness prevents her to employ whatever imagination she has. What is beyond doubt is that her results are decidedly bland. I disagree, however, with those who say it is better not to stage Norma with such a singer. Although she does not inhabit vocally or dramatically her Norma, she does give an idea of what the role more or less should be. Her performance is the type available in South American opera houses or German provincial theatres - it is certainly a decent if lackadaisical piece of singing.

Guleghina is a totally different case. In her performance, the spirit is all there - she evidently has a whole set of ideas of who her character is and employs all her weapons to share them with the audience. I would add she even has all the necessary weapons to accomplish her task - the problem is that either they are bit rusty or she herself should have warmed up before brandishing them after a long period of rest. What I mean is that nature is not to blame: she was born with the potential to be a perfect Norma. Her soprano has the size, the power, the range, the flexibility and the right colour for this role, but she has developed a plethora of bad habits that make it impossible for her to display any of these qualities in a consistent basis. During her performance, there is always this moments when things miraculously work - this low note is perfectly focused, that pianissimo floats, these melisme are perfectly articulated - and, when that happens, she more than delivers the goods. However, the next moment shows blurred coloratura, instable mezza voce, inaudible low register and erratic pitch.

Even if I run the risk of being thrown tomatos, I have to say that, although I find her infuriatingly imperfect, I like Guleghina. She has the generosity which is the hallmark of every great artist. The problem is that she does not seem to consider discipline part of what a devoted artist should have. In this performance, even when everything is going woefully wrong, she never spares herself - she always goes for the effect expected from her - she tries every pianissimo, she decorates her repeats, she even ventures in one or two high options. What I mean - although I prefer perfection, I can't help being touched by sheer engagement. It is true I haven't seen her Norma live - but I remember feeling that way when I saw her Aida and Tosca. Her enthusiasm made me fill in the blanks left by inappropriate technique.

I don't think artists should read reviews - those are the communications between critics and the audience - but if I could presume to say anything she could read, I would tell her Mirella Freni's wise advice: "I have always had a naturally placed voice. This is an advantage, but also a danger. When we begin, the voice is always there - or almost always. It is only later that we realise that the days when we are in olympic shape are quite rare and that technique is essential. I have the luck to love the physical aspect of singing, to have the talent to do what I call 'engine check-up'. As soon as I feel the least tension, the least abuse of my vocal instrument, I painstakingly investigate the cause of the possible break-down and fix it".

Last but not least, I was positively surprised by Dolora Zajick's Adalgisa. Although she does not suggest a young innocent woman, she avoids coming up too strongly as when she sings, for instance, Azucena. Her voice is still quite flexible and her high notes are generally comfortable. Maybe she was just in better voice later in November, but I have the impression the interaction with Guleghina had a positive effect on her (also on the tenor, I would say).

Tuesday, January 8th 2007

• Born ready

The first film by Wes Anderson I have seen happened to be The Royal Tenenbaums - but the truth is I only thought this was a great movie when I saw it for the second time. The TV was silent and I was a bit sleepy but not enough to fall asleep - and followed the movie only through its images. This experience converted me into a Wes Anderson-fan for life. The visual sophistication I found there struck me not only as intelligent and original, but also unique. I have written here about what I see as being his development from this movie to The Darjeeling Limited - but I had not seen his first two movies until last week. Bottle Rocket was released in 1996 and it is already a "mature" Wes Anderson movie - all the elements one would see in his other movies are already there: the almost neoclassical poise of his framing, the existence of complicated projects run by at least one of his characters, the dead-end situation towards which these character go while trying to find their place in the world, to name a few. What makes Bottle Rocket an "early" movie is perhaps some sort of enthusiasm that makes it head towards many different directions at the same time (without ever loosing of sight his final aim, I would say).

His next movie, Rushmore, features a richer production and one of those almost absurdly complex outfits which would appear in his other movies (the family house in Tenenbaums, the ship in Steve Zissou, the train in Darjeeling), which is the school with its impossible list of extra-curriculars. I couldn't help loving this movie - since my own school had so many extra-curriculars and I enrolled in each one of them (the school vegetable garden stands out in my memory...) and always invented some overambitious projects, such as staging my own adaptation of Agatha Christie's The Adventure of the Christmas Pudding (in which I had, of course, the role of Hercule Poirot...) or publishing a magazine named Graphic Juice... As you can see I really found a connection with this movie...

• Naked truth

Joachim Lafosse seems to be another born-ready talent. Nue proprieté, his third feature-length movie, is an absolute masterpiece. In his no-frills photography, Lafosse creates the necessary claustrophobic atmosphere to tell the story of a mother stuck with her two sons in a country house in Belgium and how her attempt to break free from her virtual house-imprisonment by selling the house itself gradually leads this family to a state of near civil war. I particularly enjoy the perfect economy of means with which the story is told: every scene counts, every scenic element serves its purpose. The dry approach involves the absence of a soundtrack until the last scene, in which a nightmarish version of Mahler's Urlicht is used to shattering effect. Also, situations that seemed to be apparently devoid of special meaning later reveal their full importance. Just compare the first scene and the last one to see how innoncent jokes already revealed the bitter truth that bound these people together.

And there is a sensational cast - the fabulous Isabelle Huppert finally finds again a role to the level of her talents and the brothers Jerémie and Yannick Renier offer almost unebearably intense take-no-hostages performances. The building tension offered by these actors is so overwhelming that you will take some time to chill out after this subtle but powerful movie.

• Normal and abnormal Normas

I've been prey to the obsession for Bellini's masterpiece during the month of December and couldn't overcome this so far! I have written here that Norma is such a complex role that one should hear as many singers in it as possible - and that's precisely what I've been doing. The immediate outcome is a new review of Friedrich Haider's DVD from Munich and an entirely rewritten review of James Levine's first recording (I have really changed my opinion on this one). I have tons of broadcasts to hear too - I cannot wait to compare Maria Guleghina and Hasmik Papian in the Met's recent production. I have to say that everyone has been so hard on Guleghina (an acknowledged "imperfect" singer anyway) that I couldn't resist taking a glimpse of that -but I won't tell anything before I listen to the whole of it...

• PS - A week in Rio

The reason for the long absence was my short vacation in Rio. Although December is hardly my favourite season there (it is really too hot and damp and crowded with tourists), Rio is never a loss of time. There are some pictures in my photolog to show that. I have also discovered what is probably one of my favourite restaurants: Miam miam. Although the chef defines her cuisine as "comfort food", there is always a delicious surprise in reserve in what you eat there. Moreover, the atmosphere is great - it seems your highschool "alternative" friends have invited you for a party in their 60's-style town house.

Sunday, January 6th 2007

• Troyanos and the Romans

I thought I would take forever to decide which would be my first download in DGG's new website - after all, there were so many deleted items or those never released on CD, but it soon occured to me that the way to go should be purchasing the few tracks I would like to hear in CD's the remaining content of which I had no curiosity about otherwise. Suddenly the idea of sampling Tatiana Troyanos's Cleopatra in Karl Richter's recording popped up in my mind. Richter's conducting was supposed to be helplessly heavy and following Fischer-Dieskau's contrived way through Handel coloratura is not a priori my idea of fun - but Tatiana Troyanos...! The first time I heard her voice was in Karl Böhm's recording of Richard Strauss's Capriccio and I thought: if Ella Fitzgerald sang opera, it would be more or less like that. And I have been an inconditional fan since then.

Having downloaded all Cleopatra's aria (including Tu la mia stella sei and Venere bella) and listened to them (many and many... and many times), I have to say - I am spellbound. I simply disagree with all other reviewers. First of all, I don't find Richter's conducting heavy at all in these items (I cannot say anything about the rest of the opera) - the tempi are flowing, the orchestra is not thick as I guessed and there is more than graciousness going on there. As I use to do when I am being really subjective, I'll disclosure the liabilities before someone point them out - she is a bit overserious and probably maybe austere in her interpretation, but no Cleopatra could dream to be seductive without that sexy suntanned voice. If that voice were a person, it would be Catherina Zeta-Jones; if it were food, it would be dark chocolate (Pierre Marcolini, of course); if it were a place, it would be Venice. Mix them all together and what have you got? Just a picture of what a Cleopatra should be.

With my Troyanos's highlights, I shouldn't need more about this recording - but I have to confess I am curious to hear further. A die-hard period-practices fundamentalist would be horrified to read me saying that one positive surprise was to listen to an aria like, say, Venere bella in a way every note has time to breath and blossom, instead of an exhilarating display of fioriture in which the singer hardly has time to make sense with the text. Of course, a René Jacobs or a Marc Minkowski are able to reveal all the facettes of a work like Giulio Cesare in Egitto in a way good old Richter couldn't or wouldn't (because of the approach to Handel's works in those days, I would say), but I am convinced that knowing the right time to relax a bit certainly add flavour in key points of the score.

Wednesday, December 19th 2007

• Waltraud's triumph

I really don't get this whole fuss about Scala's season opening every year - it is supposed to be a big deal if you live in Italy and could get a ticket and appear next to the Italian rich and famous who probably don't really care for music anyway. I even happen to know someone who refused an official invitation (no comments). Anyway, as the world is a happy place and mankind has reached a perfect state of harmony, newspapers all over the world have nothing else to tell about and decided to write a lot about the Barenboim/Chéreau Tristan. Curiously, everything I read did not really made me feel I was actually missing anything special, but this could not pass unnoticed. I have seen only some excerpts and Chéreau's production, the rest of the cast - so far there is nothing to die for there. On the other hand, Barenboim seems to have done a very good job - but all that pales next to the wonderful Waltraud Meier. I have always found her rendition of the so-called act I's "narration and curse" splendid - every word and note rich with meaning and depth - and she has one of those voices that go beyond beautiful/not beautiful: it goes straight to the soul. She still is magnificent in this role and her voice is in very great shape. Of course, she is a mezzo dealing with soprano stuff - but in spite of all that she does it beautifully and turns all disadvantages into advantages.

Unfortunately, I have seen her only once - a splendid Ortrud in Berlin in 1999 - and it was one of the rare experiences in which your expectations are entirely fulfilled.

Tuesday, December 18th 2007

• Alcina... Lescaut?

Listening to the broadcast of Handel's Ariodante from Geneva (November 17th), I began to fear that a new and definitely unwelcome fashion may have crept into the performance style of Handel works. The two or three readers of this weblog may remember my opinion about Magdalena Kozená's new Handel disc. Apparently, the Czech mezzo-soprano is not the only victim of this quasi Schwarzkopfian heavy interpretative style.

Although Switzerland recalls rather cold clockwork precision, the highly talented group of singers gathered there is amazingly heavy-handed in their treatment of Handel, as if they were trying to infuse large doses of theatricality and drama in every syllable, regardless if the patient actually needs this medicine - or if he is, for that matter, really ill.

It is true that there is a preconceived notion that Handel's music is rather graceful than powerful and that his operas' contrived libretti are helpless. But that is the prejudiced opinion. Artists should know better and this new let's-help-the-composer-to-get-his-point-clear approach is ultimately offensive to the genius who created these impressive and undying masterpieces. Although these singers might have the impression that they are giving their hearts and soul to Handel while pumping their own emotionalism and excitement into Handel's music, they are actually being narcissistic and concentrating too much in their own excitement. I know that there is no historical evidence whatsoever of how a singer should tackle interpretation of Handel operas, but I would simply let the music speak for itself too see which approach fits the music better.

We must always keep in mind that, although human feelings are always the same, the way they are portrayed in art has changed a lot. I am sure that there are lots of people in New York or Paris who were born with a post-modern Weltanschauung, but the rest of us tend to have a default Romantic point-of-view. This is probably why most people see baroque opera as cold technical display. However, those who have interest in baroque art and its complex code of expression of affetti will understand that these works are immerse in emotions, once you open your eyes to the peculiarities of its aesthetics. When a singer drowns the purity of a line with Puccinian vibrant top notes and parlando effects, he is presenting nothing other than a transvesti of a performance, neither powerful in the way a Wagnerian or a Verdian would recognise it nor satisfying in its unstylishness for those who happen to care about that.

When you listen to Lorraine Hunt's Scherza, infida, there are no artifficially inserted interpretative reminders of Ariodante's predicaments; the much lamented late American mezzo-soprano's performance is a single profound statement of pain and despair. Her inbuilt intensity doesn't need to go against Handelian phrases; on the contrary, it invests Handelian lines, it reveals the expression reserved in the melodic, harmonic and rhythmic brushstrokes with which the master portrayed that particular dramatic situation.

Although Waltraud Meier probably never sang any note by Handel in her life, I remember an interview of hers in which she says that the great challenge for an artist is to surrender. Singers tend to clad themselves with ideas before they go on stage in order to produce this or that impression - but according to Meier letting the music speak by itself is the ultimate courageous act: going before the audience and not trying to produce this or that impression but open yourself to the whole spectrum of expressive possibilities. Of course, this is risky business if you don't have artistic maturity.

Anyway, back to Geneva, I have to confess the main issue is, of course, Joyce DiDonato. She is a great Handelian singer whose purity of line, technical finish and good taste rarely let the listener down. Curiously, the only time I really did not connect to a performance by her was watching her DVD of Handel's Hercules, in which her Dejanira was so expressionistically handled that I couldn't help thinking she was having far more fun than I was. Her Ariodante does not reach that level of schyzophrenia, but again I did not recognise her in that over-the-top approach which only made her voice tense and her singing a bit unstylish. When Patricia Petibon does that in the same performance, it does not surprise me. I always have the impression she is trying to sing Verdi's La Forza del Destino into baroque music, making her damsells in distress sound nothing but particularly hysterical.

I have read that DiDonato is really going deep into her portrayal of Alcina, studying the text with thorough investigative eye and discovering many and many things, but I hope the results are not preciosistic and overambitious, that all those discoveries of hers will illuminate rather than overshadow the dramatic truth she is looking for. It would be a pity to see her fall in the same trap Kozená could not avoid.

PS - On second thought, I realise I was unfair to speak about the cast in Geneva's Ariodante in a generic way. I should point out that Varduhi Abrahamyan is an outstanding Polinesso, a name to watch, and that Amanda Forsythe and Charles Workman are quite commendable in the parts of Dalinda and Lucanio. Patricia Petibon herself has indeed some beautiful moments, but most of the time she is trying to pour Medea-like intensity into the role of the vulnerable Ginevra. If she had a Medea-like voice, one could discuss if this is a valid possibility. As for Joyce DiDonato, I have the impression that, although she sang it unfailingly well, the role is a bit low for her voice and if you overlook the almost verismo-like pathos of Scherza, infida or Cieca notte, there is a breathtaking Doppo notte sung with true technical aplomb. I must point out that reviewers who saw the opera live tended to have the opposite opinion of mine - I am sure that live at the theatre the visuals must have given sense to a musical performance that sounds overdone when listened to alone.

• A Norma for the records

The Norma debacle at the Metropolitan Opera House has ignited debated whether opera houses should stage such work without a prima donna up to the almost impossible demands made by the title role. This takes us to the question - how often does a theatre has an amazing Norma at its disposal? Many singers have experimented with the role - sometimes to great effect - but left it before it started to take its toil, others have overstayed to their own regret. In any case, considering the interpretative and technical difficulties involved, every good Norma should make into the gramophone. Margaret Price, for example, wasn't lucky enough to get a decent broadcast and we should thank those half-industrious, half-crazy people who carry a clandestine tape-recorder to the theatre for the memento of her beautiful account of the role.

Fortunately, Nelly Miriciou had a different fate, for a 1999 broadcast of her Norma from Amsterdam is a valuable document of a truly great performance. Although the role is a bit high for her, she is the kind of singer who turns every disadvantage into advantage and creates a three-dimensional role by virtue of technical skill, natural feeling for the words allied to crystalline diction and a really fiery temper. When Adalgisa asks her to depose the celestial authority that surrounds her, for once the listener understands that request, for Miricioiu displays amazing command in public scenes but is also capable of touching tenderness. The long duet with Adalgisa is a perfect exemple. As required, she mellows into intimate melancholy while listening to the young woman's story, but as soon as she starts to suspect that they are speaking of Pollione, her voice shifts immediately back to her formidable self through tone colouring alone. The closing scene is also original and effective, the keynote being rather worldweariness than regret. Her pleas to her father in favour of her sons show rather spiritual exhaustion than despair.

Miricioiu is brilliantly partnered by Violeta Urmana, a superlative Adalgisa. Her warm sensuous voice was in mint condition and she tackles her division with ease and graciousness and successfully portrays her character's youth and naiveté. It is a pity that the only remaining great singer in this recording is Wilke Te Broemmelstroete, a particularly noticeable Clotilde. Both Carlo Ventre's Pollione and Dmitri Kavrakos's Oroveso are lackadaisical if unobtrosive. Maurizio Barbacini conducts an intense and forward-moving performance and the Dutch orchestra is up to the task.

Sunday, December 9th 2007

• Brave yellow label

It is a bit silly to confess a soft spot for Deutsche Grammophon, but I am afraid that used to be my case.. When I was a kid and saw the LPs with the beautiful yellow table, I couldn't help feeling tempted to buy them. I remember driving my father to madness to buy me Karajan's Four Seasons (yes, Vivaldi's...) because of that cover with the apples and the yellow logo. Then there were the car stickers - I never knew (to this day) how some people got them and I was crazy to get one myself. I even considered butchering one of my LP covers just to stick it to the family's car... Anyway, my feeling for DGG are rekindled by their admirable new policy of offering their whole catalogue for download all over the world, while launching a new beautiful and user-friendly website. I hope all other labels follow the noble exemple and start to treat their clients as clients and not as potential criminals, EMI above all. As an exemplary customer, I always prefer to buy original CDs as my humble contribution the music industry on which all music lovers depend. Therefore, being refused in amazon.com, itunes store etc offended me to the bones. Having one's honest money refused is simply an invitation to piracy - and I am glad Deutsche Grammophon is the first large-scale label to recognise that, if you want to make money, you must make your customers welcome.

Thursday, December 6th 2007

• Julia's variety

Julia Varady's career is so varied that it is impossible to speak of one's encounter with her artistry. One could speak of Varady, the Mozart soprano. I guess most people discovered her in Böhm's recordings of Idomeneo and Clemenza di Tito, in which her crystalline yet flexible soprano was impossible to overlook. Although her neverending struggle with Italian language wouldn't allow her true dramatic command in these recordings, there was an underlying energy that prevents one from calling those performances bland.

Her performances in the roles of the Countess in Nozze di Figaro and Donna Anna and Donna Elvira in Don Giovanni for Colin Davis, Kubelik and Karajan show a stylish and almost vocally immaculate singer, but there is always something paradoxical - the voice lacks the smoothness one expects to find in a lyric soprano in this repertoire, but a strong discipline, unfailing musicianship and technical facility ultimately convince the listener that hers is the voice for these parts.

I somehow believe that her success in Mozart prima donna roles led her to the German lyric repertoire - and her recording of the title role in Sawallisch's Arabella somehow exposed the notion that maybe Varady's voice did not exactly fit this choice of roles. Listening to her Arabella with the checklist of an Arabella's requirements, one must concede that she meets every demand made on her, but the floating creaminess every great Arabella features. One reviewer even called her voice too "vinegary" for the role. I don't remember ever having read anything about a Marschallin or an Agathe, for example.

My next encounter with Varady found her as a jugendlich dramatisch soprano. This time her undeniable skills failed to impress me as before. Her Sieglinde (for Sawallisch) seems lost around register break, her Kaiserin (in Solti's CDs) sounded basically shrill to my ears - only her touching vulnerable Senta (again for Sawallisch) stroke me as a success beyond dispute.

I would finally meet Varady in her lirico spinto incarnation. It may sound exaggerated, but I believe it was only then she finaly found her locus. There is always the problem of her exotic Italian pronunciation - but here the finely focused quality of her voice, the strong chest notes, the edge necessary to cut the orchestra all work in her favour. Her Verdi heroines have nothing matronly about them and one finally feels that her vivid dramatic temper is free from the self-contained poise required by Mozart and Strauss.

I write all this while listening to a broadcast of Verdi's La Forza del Destino from 1986. The role takes her to her limits in the long scene with Padre Guardiano, but even then she sounds in her element. Her Leonora is a young, passionate and tormented heroine exactly as described in the libretto. Her La Vergine degli angeli is heavenly, her Pace, pace mio Dio has the necessary spiritual anguish and the closing scene is just perfect.

I am not a fan of this opera (I would cut the roles of Preziosilla and Melitone, to start with) and cannot compare Giuseppe Sinopoli's conducting with a choice of other conductors - he certainly does beautiful things with the Bayerische Staatsorchester. I can recall a more energetic approach from Muti and a more theatrical atmosphere in Levine, but this live performance could never be called unconvincing. Marjana Lipovsek is in great voice as Preziosilla, but the rest of the cast is unfortunately below standard, including Kurt Moll's utterly foreign Guardiano. Veriano Luchetti's tenor sounds tight and hard-pressed and Wolfgang Brendel's handsome baritone is never really comfortable with the writing of the part of Carlo. But this is Varady's show and she alone is worth the detour.

Wednesday, November 28th 2007

• Apologies and eulogies

Let me start with the apologies - it is not the I am overbusy, but I am actually doing 100 things at the same time right now. That could be my excuse not to answer some e-mails I have received - but they are high on my "to do [too]" list!

Now the eulogies, which are actually related to the things I am actually doing right now. Because I am: a) preparing a course on History of Opera (it is amazing how fast we get rusty when we stay away of this "teaching" thing); b) reworking the discography of Bellini's Sonnambula for re:opera; c) recording some CDs I owe lots of people (and, of course, I still have my "official" job), I have been listening to many different things.

I have to confess that preparing a CD for a friend who doesn't like tenors (and wants to be convinced maybe she is wrong to feel that way about the poor guys who have to sing up there) has proved to be a very difficult task. I am trying to select examples of tenors who have more to show than stamina and fervour and would rather go for tone-colouring, legato and dynamic variety. I acknowledge that coping with high tessitura and those requirements is not easy. As I have decided to be strict and avoid glottal attacks, lachrimosity, carelessness in low register and other disfiguring effects, I was surprised to find myself entirely "dispossessed of" Italian repertoire. I must explain myself - my idea is giving pride of place to purity of line and user-friendlier tonal quality over temper or dramatic vividness.

As it is, so far the fully satisfying entries (in the sense of both technical and expressive perfection) are Nicolai Gedda singing Je crois entendre encore (from Bizet's Les Pecheurs de Perles) live in Munich, Rainer Trost singing Un'aura amorosa (in Gardiner's Cosi) and I have decided to try my luck with Rolando Villazón's intense Monteverdi (from Emmanuelle Haïm's CD). I haven't found the right example of Fritz Wunderlich yet, but it is a matter of honour to find it. In any case, I am pleased to check how great Francisco Araiza was in his pre-Wagnerian days. His Mozart concert arias (with Hager) and Schubert Lieder(both in studio and live in Hohenems) are the most lovely pieces of singing in my "choice" of arias so far - the warm radiance of his singing back then sounds as if Lucia Popp had been reborn a tenor. Nobody speaks of Araiza anymore - and this is really unfair! So here it is - the whole point in this post was to say that.

My other praise goes AGAIN for Joyce DiDonato. I have read what she wrote about Handel's Alcina and cannot help saying she really got the point. I believe that the role of Alcina was a token of gratitude from the composer to the soprano Anna Maria Strada del Pò, who faifthfully followed him to the Covent Garden after the incidents who made him leave the King's Theatre. Of course I have no proof of what I am saying, but one can felt that in the music.

Also, my admiration for DiDonato has known a new dimention now: she could count me as a fan both of her singing and blogging, but now I have also discovered her photos.

Saturday, November 17th 2007

• Entführung

A review of Minkowski's DVD of Mozart's Die Entführung aus dem Serail from Aix-en-Provence has been added to the discography.

Sunday, November 11th 2007

• Post scripta

Those have been busy days and although I try to keep posting, I still couldn't find enough time to write about everything I wanted to write about. So here are some bits of different stuff:

- Wes Anderson's The Darjeeling Limited. I have often written about my apreciation for Anderson's movies. This is a director who is able to work in a purely visual approach in an age in which the visual element is almost ever reduced to illustration to the script. While I was impressed by the graphic humour of The Life Aquatic of Steve Zissou, the absence of emotional content made me think of how longer he could advance into the abstraction from a "regular" plot in search of a purely plastic goal. I think it is not presumptuous to suppose he made himself the same question. While family ties is the recurrent theme of his films, the detachment adopted in Steve Zissou seems to be left aside and the right touch of involvement found in The Royal Tennembaums seems to be found again. Although much of what is shown in Darjeeling seems to be subject of mockery - the absurd spiritual journey, the Kafka-esque train, the over-the-top Indian exoticism - family relationships are taken seriously. Most cleverly, we are shown three American brothers who engage into a overwrought and artifficial trip to self-discovery in India portrayed in Anderson's hallmark classically conceived frames with controlled use of colours to the point they are expelled from the train and are confronted to a real-life situation of a real-life family in India. From this point on, everything starts to look more "real" - India starts to look less fantastic, the scenes acquire a documentary-like approach, the feelings between these characters begin to surface. Masterly.

- Julie Delpy's Two Days in Paris. I like Julie Delpy and I left the theatre after watching Before Sunset convinced that Jesse (E. Hawke)'s wife and kid didn't stand a ghost of a chance after Delpy's singing that song to her guitar accompaniment. As far as I understood, Delpy co-wrote the dialogues in Before Sunset and a great deal of the movie's charm has to do with them. Reading that Delpy had written and directed her own Paris adventure (again involving an American guy in French "hostile" territory) seemed to be a must-see. All I can say is that she has talent for the writing and directing bussiness - the film would be perfect but for the last scenes. Until we get to these scenes, the dialogues are (again) witty with an almost Woody Allen-esque verve, the characters are delightful, some jokes are more than worth the ticket price, this is Adam Goldberg's best piece of acting ever and Daniel Brühl's tiny role is hilarious - but please fogive me the sexism, but everything was going well until Delpy had to "discuss the relationship". When the movie is exposed to the sudden and drastic shift, the structual coherence is lost and the irresistibly cynical sense of humour that steers us through this story is replaced by voiced-over sentimental nonsense. Flawed but still worth the detour.

Friday, November 9th 2007

• More than worth the price

I owe my love to vocal music to one singer - Margaret Price. And my gratitude for her is neverending. It is very difficult for me not to buy a disc where she is featured, even in a minor part. She is the kind of singer who treats every note as if the whole score depended on it, and that is why no opportunity to listen to her singing is a waste of time: there is always riches of musical and poetic insight in reserve. That is why reading an interview of hers in which she stated that Norma was the role in which she was less satisfied with her results made me curious for life. This curiosity has been satisfied with an in-house recording from the Opernhaus Zürich in 1979.

Bellini's Norma is of course a fearsome role and it is wiser to be careful than overconfident. In 1979, Price was in her best shape and even if - predictably - Bello a me ritorna and In mia man take her to her limits, her singing is always confident, expressive and beautiful. I don't think it is exaggerated to say that her creamy soprano is the most beautiful I have ever heard in this part. Although she more than copes with the florid writing and long tessitura, her main virtue her classical approach to the role. I am trying to avoid the word "Mozartian", because many will take this in the wrong way. If you persist in the mistaken of considering Mozartian singing something small-scaled, dispeptic and sanitized, then forget I wrote that. What I mean is the instrumentally sculpted phrasing, the precise combination of dramatic intention and musical expression, the nobility of tone - in this sense Margaret Price's Norma is unique and she should be proud of it. This is not a verbally specific and grand-scale performance such as Callas's or Scotto's, but if you are curious to sample a Grisi-bound perspective to the title role, you should give it a chance.

In this performance, Price is ideally partnered by Agnes Baltsa's Adalgisa. Her quasi-soprano mezzo was then taylor-made for this role. She is comfortable with the coloratura and her voice blends beautifully with her Norma's. Bruno Prevedì is a solid Pollione, if not particularly imaginative and Matti Salminen's Wagnerian bass makes Oroveso sound particularly "barbarian". In any case, he was in very good voice. Nello Santi is less bureaucratic than expected and shows some interesting ideas than never put his cast in difficult situations. I found the accelerando finale ultimo particularly effective. It is a pity that the recorded sound is atrocious. The tape-recorded was obviously on the lap of someone in the audience, but the real bad news is that the microphone cannot resist loud dynamics involving more than one singer and the orchestra.

• Who can resist a bargain?

It is fashionable to say bad things about Kathleen Battle and I would rather face the tomatos than throw one of them at her. In spite of her tantrums, her video and audio recordings preserve what is essential about her - her seductive soprano leggiero always beautifully employed in Mozart and Handel. Finding Andrew Davis's Messiah recorded live in Canada by EMI for US$ 4.00 was a ready-made decision for me. Of course, this is the kind of performance with ponderous recitatives, large orchestra and crowded chorus we used to live with before the 80's. That said, the Toronto Mendelssohn Choir offers impressive choral singing and the conductor yelds to the coloratura abilities of his soloists by offering them swift tempi when their divisions require that. Battle's background in gospel music pays off in her enthusiastic fully engaged singing. If some of her decoration occasionally makes one think of the Methodist Episcopal Church rather than XVIIIth-century England, her sense of religious fervour is truer to the spirit of the music than the polite oratorio approach one often find in this music. Both John Aler and Samuel Ramey offer astonishing performances, tackling fast passagework with clockwork precision. Only mezzo Florence Quivar is a bit cautious in the contralto area of her voice, but hers is a sensitive performance nonetheless. This is hardly my first, second, third, fourth or fifth recommendation for this piece - but it certainly is worth more than US$ 4.00 considering the level of the talents involved.

• Alcina

A review of Ivor Bolton's recording of Handel's Alcina has been added to the discography.

Tuesday, November 6th 2007

• Chilling out in Chile

I have just arrived from Santiago, a city I had never visited before. The whole idea was to take a look at the Teatro Municipal, their opera house, which was presenting Mozart's Die Zauberflöte. As the Chileans are keen on repeating, Santiago is not a touristic place but if you have two days before visiting the beautiful destinations in the countryside, it might be worth the time spent there. The old city center has some beautiful neoclassical building and if there were some charming cafés, nice restaurants or interesting shopping, I am sure it would have an interesting atmosphere. As it is, the Chilean seem to prefer other neighbourhoods. They seem to have a fondness for the Miami-fied Las Condes, but Providencia is one of the most beautiful residential areas I have ever seen. But nothing has caught my attention so vividly as the opera house - it is a small exquisite theatre and their season is certainly interesting. It seems that there is a strong German influence in Santiago and German opera has a special presence in their calendar. If you want to check some pictures, I have posted them here.

Sunday, November 4th 2007

• A Magic Flute from the South

The Teatro Municipal's music director Jan Latham-König has conducted many a Wagner and Strauss opera in Santiago - and trusting him Die Zauberflöte seemed to be a choice for heavy Mozart playing, as in the days in which Harnoncourt was just a baby. That preconceived notion was soon dispelled in the first bars of the overture: Latham-König's Mozart not only is structurally crystalline but also dramatically and coherently conceived. His eye for detail and his care with clear pheasing are praiseworthy, and the orchestra's dry string playing and the occasionally blunder in the brass section could easily be overlooked. Michael Hampe's understated production verged on the artless and one could easily think of budget limitation, but in the end the show's old-fashioned charm found a convincing note. Some moments really gave me the feeling of watching a production sprung from a black and white picture from the 30's - and I only hope this was intentional!

Conductor and director had an animated cast to work with. I confess I was not really excited to read that Valentina Farcas was taking the role of Pamina. My previous experience with this singer was Salzburg's video of Die Entführung der Serail, in which she is an extremely metallic-toned Blondchen. Live her soprano is far warmer, if diminute and lacking roundness in the higher reaches. Despite those drawbacks, she produced a most sensitive Ach, ich fühl's. From this aria on, she showed her strengths in floating pianissimi and an impressively long breath. As the Königin der Nacht, Canadian soprano Aline Kutan resisted the temptation of making it pretty and produced forceful intense accounts of her arias. Her in alts are certainly impressive and her fioriture are really accurate. French tenor Xavier Mas has an extraordinarily velvety voice and a caressing line, but his whole method is too heavy for such a lyric instrument. Because of that, his ascents above high f were invariably tense. Maybe if he could relax and adopt a higher and more natural placement, he would achieve optimal results. It was good to see again Rodion Pogossov's beautifully sung Papageno. He has indeed a most likeable stage persona - and witnessing him out of Julie Taymor's Met Zauberflöte is an evidence that a less intrusive production is always healthy. Kristinn Sigmundsson was in excellent voice as Sarastro, dealing with the role's problematic tessitura without any difficulty and singing his lines with true feeling for Mozartian style. The Teatro Municipal has some good talents at its disposal - the three ladies were excellent, especially Evelyn Ramírez's Third Lady. Her strong contralto is a true find. Jenny Muñoz's bell-toned Papagena was certainly refreshing and Gonzalo Araya was a firm-toned Monostatos.

Friday, November 2nd 2007

• Don Giovanni

A review of René Jacobs's Don Giovanni has been added to the discography.

Monday, October 29th 2007

• Seven hamburgers

While in Rome in 2006, I have devised with my friend Bruno a project to taste the best ice-creams in that city. We used a top-5 list available in one Lonely Planet guide (or something like that) and it was really fun to visit places of all kinds in the four coins of the city and compare them. The results were bizarre but for the fact that my number one choice was Rome's most traditional ice-cream parlour, which is Giolitti. Number two was curiously a tourist-trap in the Campo de' Fiori (really - it is hard to believe!). Truth be said, not even Giolitti can really boast to beat Gianni, a place we found by accident in Bologna (this is the best chocolate ice-cream in the world, that is for sure).

Anyway, this time in New York I suddenly had this idea of tasting New York's favourite hamburgers. The idea seemed to make sense - hamburgers are the first thing to come to my mind when I think of one good culinary contribution from the USA. Also, I found this website listing what was supposed to be a list of New York's 10 best hamburgers and finally I was looking for somewhere to eat and happened to find myself in front of one of the restaurants listed there and thought - why not?

The enterprise started in J. G. Melon , a sort of cozy old pub in the Upper East Side decorated with all sort of paintings, posters, engravings and sculptures representing all kind of melons. It is always crowded and the staff is not exactly friendly (their attitude is rather thank-the-Lord-you-had-the-luck-to-find-a-table). In any case, I did not had the luck to find a table and was explained that if I did not want to wait, I could order from the bar. I gladly accepted the suggestion because I was on a tight schedule. Silly me... There was only one bartender for the whole bar - a tough multifunctional lady who was able to take orders, prepare cocktails, collect payment and chat with the regulars at the same time. But miracles she could not work - and the whole thing took longer than planned. I have to say that the sandwich was worth waiting for - the meat was delicious, the bread was good, the pickles was nice, the bacon was crispy and not greasy and the house fries are marvelous.

Next try was P. J. Clarke's. The place has this tavern-atmosphere similar to J. G. Melon, but the indoors are a bit more austere and the staff is more efficient. It has also appeared in many movies set in New York. I haven't tried the house fries, because someone told me they are a bit too spicy, but I have ordered regular French fries and the same sandwich as before (this was an experiment after all). The "style" of hamburger served there is similar to the one found at J.G. Melon and it lives to the reputation. If I still have a soft spot for the later, it is because I found the taste of the meat still richer and their home fries are really great.

The adventure would find its more exotic item in Burger Joint. When I entered the lofty hall of Le Parker Méridien Hotel at 57th street, I really couldn't see how a restaurant under that name could be located there. Actually, I could not discover where it was at all. I was at the pont of giving up when I saw that neon sign in the shape of a hamburger in a hidden corner. On crossing its doors, you see that the name did not lie. The place is really a joint, I mean, it was carefully design to look like one. The first thing you notice is a notice written by hand explaining how you should order, a sort of the hamburger answer to Seinfeld's soup Nazi. I was obedient to the explanation and ordered my bacon cheeseburger and fries and waited to be called to get it when ready. Meanwhile, I could see the way clients were called. Basically one of the guys in the kitchen shouts your name until you show up to pick the sandwich. The whole thing has its quaint charm but - although the hamburger was quite good - I found the bun below standard.

Stand at 12th street is an entirely different experience. The place has this cool atmosphere one expects a place in New York should have, there is lounge music, professional service, credit cards are accepted and the prices are also a bit higher. Despite the coolness, if you don't want a table, you may keep walking to a McDonald's like counter and order your sandwich to go. I don't remember ordering any kind of sauce, but the hamburger had a generous serving of mayonnaise, what made it a bit hard to digest. The French fries were great, but - this will sound exotic - I found that their pickles were marvelous.

After Stand, Corner Bistro was like shifting to an entirely different universe. To start with, the location couldn't be better. West Grenwich Villages has this Portobello Road thing about it that makes it hard to resist. Then, if you are into no-frills, the place is amazing. It looks like an old pub - and when I mean old, I mean it seems that the whole place is going to fall apart on your head in the next minute. Discrete jazz music pouring from the speakers lent it an atmosphere. Calling the service "unfriendly" would be unfair, those people are actually entirely indifferent and when they decide to notice you, they can even be nice. It seems that "I don't do dishes" could be their motto - the whole couvert is disposable and be prepared to have greasy fingers after that. The hamburger itself, in traditional style, is excellent. In analysis, there is nothing there superior to J. G. Melon or P. J. Clarke's, but the overall impression is really great.

There came the moment to try something non-traditional - and Better Burger in Chelsea seemed to be something like that. Although citric colours and the voice of Madonna singing Borderline could suggest otherwise, Better Burger has a mission - once you are definitely going to have a hamburger now and then, at least have it in the healthiest version available in the market. The immediate advantage - there is no smell of frying oil in the place. I cannot really say their hamburger is better than Corner Bistro - it is not. But I doubt someone could make a better "healthy" hamburger. It is still very good, the bread is delicious, their variety of sauces is worth while trying and their method of "frying" potato with hot air instead of oil has excellent results. Although the sandwich is far bigger than those served in the above-mentioned restaurants, you won't feel "heavy" after you have eaten it.

Last item of pilgrimage was Island Burgers and Shakes, a place with this Californian atmosphere with surfboards and posters on its walls and surf rock in the air. The restaurant is very narrow and the small yellow and red tables are so close to each other that you could eat your neighbour's food by accident. First observation - they seem to be proud not to serve fries. Their menu is by far the longest in this survey - they have the most exotic varieties of hamburgers, served with all kinds of cheese, bread and even more unexpected ingredients. And the price is really tempting. The hamburger itself is huge but the flavour could be a bit richer. The bun was very good.

The result of this survey did not surprise me. As much as in Rome, the traditional choice won. Corner Bistro and P. J. Clarke's offer the dictionary definition of what a hamburger should be, but I guess that J. G. Melon wins by a head. The hamburger meat is really special and the home fries are worth the visit. Curiously enough, I am tempted to say I feel I would in fact become a client of Better Burger. It is a very user-friendly place and they succeed in making you feel less guilty about eating a hamburger (although this might perfectly be only an excuse to eat more hamburgers...).

Tuesday, October 23th 2007

 

• One zillion things

Just back from New York - and I have lots of things to write about. In order to put some order in the whole affair, I am posting the "reviews" in entries corresponding to the dates of the events. When I have done that, I'll start posting from tomorrow other comments and ideas related to my staying in the Big Apple.

Monday, October 22nd 2007

• Again Aida

The Met's Aida is a monumental affair, and those who have seen it with monumental voices know how effective it can be. It sounds really empty when the huge sceneries have to work the magic alone while the orchestra is muted to accomodate small-scaled voices. This saturday a debut in such a fearsome role was scheduled with a singer whose accomplishment were at least to me mysterious. I cannot say how much of a good surprise Micaela Carosi is - but I am convinced that the surprise is somehow good. She has a voice in the good old Italian style - there is a faint touch of Gabriella Tucci in her lirico spinto. However, maybe because of her debut, the instrument was sometimes awkwardly handled. Act I was particularly messy - the low passaggio was clumsy, top notes fluttery and the pitch was suspect. From act II on, she found a better shape, treated her gear change more gently, focused her top notes and would now and then pull out some stunning things. Fortunately, most of them in act III. It is a pity she deemed unimportant to see to her mezza voce in the closing scene - she had sung some beautiful floating tones before that.

Olga Borodina was clearly not in a good day as Amneris. Until mezzo forte she seemed pretty much herself. Forte passages in the high register found her bleached-toned and laborious. Granted, her large velvety mezzo is not exactly the one for Amneris, but in her good days she certainly is able to prove she is more than Ersatz in this opera.

Replacing an ailing Marco Berti, Stephen O'Mara had a rather testing debut as Radames. Although his voice generally stands the heavy demands made on it by Verdi, his tenor seemed to have been beefed-up for German operatic purposes. As it is, the sound is coarsely dark and secure but top notes tend to be tense and there is very little sensuousness in it. Juan Pons may have the world's record in the role of Amonasro. At this stage in his cfareer, he has to disguise the strain with studied overemphasis, in which he succeeds to a certain extent. Both Vitalji Kowaljow as Ramfis and Reinhard Hagen as the King have spacious beautiful voices.

Kazushi Ono presided over an elegant performance in which he clearly was trying to make his singers' lives easier. As a result, there was a certain economy with fortissimos and unfortunately also less impact. It must be pointed out that the ensembles were unusually clean and transparent, what is always praiseworthy considered the scale of the event.

• Back to the bench

The Zoo Story is Edward Albee's first success and dates from 1958. This one-acter has an intriguing story full of unusual details, but recently the playwright thought it important to give a bit more information to the audiences and wrote a first act to it, premièred only recently. In the New York first production of the revised version, renamed Peter and Jerry, director Pam MacKinnon rightly chose a staging concentrated on the actors. All scenic elements are reduced to the minimum and the audience had all the time of the world to savour the optimal level of acting offered here. As Ann, Johanna Day brought an extremely likable personality and an excellent voice. As Peter, Bill Pullman was naturalness itself, his character entirely built on subtlety. He score many and many points in the difficult Central Park scene, in which most of the text is given to the role of Jerry - brilliantly performed by Dallas Roberts. It is difficult to describe perfection and I will not try - Roberts was just perfect, one of the best pieces of acting I have seen in a long while.

Saturday, October 20th 2007

• The beautiful and the beastly

I cannot recall a program so exotic as the one proposed by the New York Philharmonic - Beethoven's 2nd Piano Concerto and Zemlinsky one-acter Eine florentinische Tragödie. I had no experience of conductor James Conlon in the Classical repertoire and he surprised me positively with an elegant, forward-moving and sensitive account on Beethoven's early piano concerto. The Philharmonic played in state of grace and their soloist, Jonathan Biss, is someone to watch - his nimble and yet generous playing involved marvelous fluent scales and tone-colouring worthy of a singer.

As for the Zemlinsky, as a friend of mine uses to say, if you have to be explained something before it happens, brace yourself. After the intermission, the conductor got hold of a microphone and explained what an injustice it was that Zemlinsky's music has fallen into oblivion. I am not a specialist in Zemlinsky, but I have found nothing memorable in Eine florentinische Tragödie, but for the composer's talent for orchestration. There is not one phrase in the whole opera close to cantabile, there is no dramatic timing - it sounds like people talking in strenuous tessitura over a huge showcase of orchestration technique. The Philharmonic did its part brilliantly, but the singers here involved were not really up to their ingrateful tasks. Maybe great singers could have saved the day - I have my share of doubts. As it was, Tatiana Pavlovskaya should be warned that whatever she is doing, she should not go on. Her amazingly artifficially covered sound will not allow her a long career. If I say that bluntly, it is because it would be a pity for a singer to be a victim of improper technique. Anthony Dean Griffey's forward vocal placement seemed a blessing in comparison, but there is more than a splash of Charaktertenor in him to cause the right impression in the role of the young dashing tenor. James Johnson had the lion's share in the music and the fact that he was really overparted was not of great help.

• Flesh vs. spirit

Christian Gerhaher's baritone is obviously beautiful and he has made a reputation as a Lieder singer (and Schubert lookalike). For his Carnegie Hall recital he chose to sing the composer's song cycle Die schöne Müllerin. I have to confess to be surprised that his very good intentions were impared by a vocal method that could seem spontaneous at first, but in fact might be the final outcome of the confrontation of an exceptionally generous vocal nature and probably inadequate schooling. As it is, his clear baritone received a rather heavy-handed treatment in order to acquire a darker hue it does not naturally have. The main victim of this method is legato. Forte notes are marred by flutter and he seems to shift to an entirely different placement for mezza voce. Whenever Schubert spins a sweet melody, it was served chopped phrasing that drained it of sweetness. More animated passages sounded like hectoring in a style similar to the almost-retired Fischer-Dieskau (nota bene - at Gerhaher's age, Fischer-Dieskau sang these songs as an angel). The only moment in which the approach seemed to make sense with the music was a forceful and energetic Der Jäger.

There is no doubt about the singer's intelligence, sensitiveness and musicianship. These qualities always saved him in the last minute, but one cannot help thinking of what he would be able to do if his technique would rather enhance than compromise his accomplishments.

Friday, October 19th 2007

• Low-voltage Mahler

In a series of concert with the Cleveland Orchestra, Franz Welser-Möst chose for his second program Mahler's 2nd Symphony, a piece the main difficulty of which in live performances seems to be awake genuine enthusiasm in the musicians while keeping the complex ensembles functional and transparent. The Austrian conductor certainly succeded in eliciting elegance and clarity. But truth is that the performance rarely went beyond politeness. Those accustomed to Bernstein's intense approach could even found it dull - the translucent strings did not produce the volume of sound one expects in this this music and did not blend very well with a brass section that sounded as if those instruments could have caught the flu. The Westminster Symphonic Choir, on the other hand, poured forth smooth well-balanced sounds. It is a pity that the climactic last movement did not take off - there had not been the necessary building tension to pave the way for it. Unfortunately, both soloists were rather small-scaled for the venue - Malin Hartelius's ill-focused singing did not carry into the auditorium and the usually excellent Bernarda Fink failed to float her high register and had to distort her vowels to make for the demands on soft dynamics.

Thursday, October 18th 2007

• Too much nose and too little heart

Before I say anything, I must be sincere about my dislike of Edmond Ronstand's Cyrano de Bergerac. Beautiful as Ronstand's verses are, the "what" never was a novelty and the "how" is marred by colossal lack of timing - the comedy scenes take ages to take off and the dramatic scenes are rather sentimentalised. In order to make it work, a director needs to impress an unfailing sense of rhythm to the proceedings and concentrate on extracting from his actors the last ounce of charisma available. And I am afraid David Levaux failed on that - the general impression is at most workmanlike. It is thus particularly problematic that Tom Rye's beautiful sceneries are too spacious and a lot of noise echoes there while actors are reading their verbose lines. The result is that you can hardly hear what most of them are saying... In this sense, Concetta Tomei deserves praises for her king size voice and personality unfortunately bestowed on small roles.

Among the leading actors, Kevin Kline predictably stands out - he is a technically accomplished actor who gives life to his lesser utterance and knows how to seize the opportunities when they present themselves. Unfortunately, they rarely did so considering the rest of the talents involved.

Much of the play's interest lies on Cyrano's dialogues with Christian. The problem is that Daniel Sunjata is simply miscast - he is neither good-looking in a way Rosanne could have noticed (with the impossible wig he is made to wear, he looks like The Rock in The Scorpion King, i.e., there is nothing poetic about him) nor produces the impression of good-hearted stolidness - self-consciousness at most.

The fact that Jennifer Garner has limited theatre experience makes me more tolerant about her shortcomings. She has received excellent coaching - and the bad news is that this is evident. Gestures and inflexions are all in place and correctly done - but there is very little spirit behind all that. It all looks like well-rehearsed routine. Maybe experience will enable her to do the trick - she does have a good voice and a most graceful figure and that is already something.

Minor roles are dealt with in the way operatic direction deals with comprimari - they are given one defining trait and you'll notice them if the actor or actress has natural charisma. In one word, a missed opportunity.

• Sir Colin Davis

In a sort of celebration of Sir Colin Davis's 80th birthday, the Lincoln Center offered two concerts with the English conductor leading his London Symphonic Orchestra and Chorus. I was able to attend the first program - Mozart's piano concerto no. 27 and Requiem. Imogen Cooper offered elegant Mozartian playing without the music-box approach so many Mozart pianists are fond of. In both pieces, Sir Colin lived for his reputation of specialist in this repertoire and the LSO offered beautiful translucent playing - only the brass section did not blend with the rest of an orchestra aptly reduced in strings. The chorus had a beautiful smooth sound, but the tenors were not always very tidy in their runs. In any rate, the Requiem was a good example of powerful yet structurally clear music making. The solo singing was nothing above efficient. Among them, Swedish soprano Marie Arnet was the most interesting, but her charming voice tends to loose focus in the upper reaches.

Wednesday, October 17th 2007

• Pin it on the Agrippina

Maybe because she comes from Argentina, director Lillia Groag was able to portray the rotten charm of corruption without falling either in the trap of moralising or draining away the nastiness to make it funny. But that does not explain entirely the success of the New York City Opera production of Agrippina - Ms. Groag is a brilliant director for actors, making the cast not only act with unfailing comedy timing but also in an uniform coherent stylistic approach. It is only a pity that she could not get better set and costume designers. The gowns seemed to belong from styles ranging from the 1920's to the 1940's, while the sceneries had a certain 1970's approach to classical stylisation. I can hardly see how this could work - and the immediate impression is that the whole thing looks dull and kitsch. When it comes to Agrippina's costumes, they were often plainly speaking ugly - and this was particularly harmful since Nelly Miricioiu is some decades older than the caracter as portrayed by Grimiani. The audience could feel puzzled by the fact that this frumpy old lady was getting so much attention. That said, an alluring voice could have done the trick, but I am afraid those days are over for Miricioiu.

The Romanian soprano's middle voice has become rather colourless and not entirely connected to a juiceless low register - and her top notes are invariably hooty. A random approach to pitch allied to clouded diction resulted lifeless recitatives - and one knows how recitatives are important in this of all operas. Considering this singer's past achievements, it is sad to realize only her intense acting and ease with passagework survived her bel canto days. Next to her, the beautiful Heidi Stober sounded even more pleasing than she naturally is. Her lyric soprano is creamy and flexible and she has feeling for Handelian phrasing. Only her top register still neeeds more freedom and smoothness. If she succeeds in rounding up this problem, she will certainly go places.

In the role of Nero, the aptly androgynous and really young-looking Jennifer Rivera caused a flashing impression with her warm mezzo and impressive coloratura. She definitely belongs in this repertoire. David Walker's gentle countertenor worked to perfection in Ottone's laments and arie d'affeto, some of the best moments in the afternoon. João Fernandes's knowledge of baroque style and resonant low notes helped him to create the necessary gravitas for his Claudio, but his ascents to high notes were often woolly. Marco Nisticò was a forceful Pallante and David Korn's countertenor has particularly velvety top notes.

Ransom Wilson offered a reliable if quite monochromatic view of Handel's multi-faceted score (edited for the theatrical purposes in this production). His orchestra had a shaky start but raised to the occasion during the performance.

• Finding a feminine voice

Sarah Treem's A Feminine Ending tells the story of Amanda, a young graduate of music who wants to be a composer, but is confronted with a world there is not necessarily a place for a woman. This seems not to be a problem for the playwright herself: Treem's masters the art of intelligent and insightful dialogues and some of the images evoked in her text are extraordinarily sensitive, although some twists in the plot seem contrived and rushed, such as Amanda's mailman "old flame"'s explanation of linguistics or the too-perfect-to-be-believable parallel between mother and daughter's artistic gifts. That said, if one overlooks the sharp angles, there really is a lot to enjoy in "A Feminine Ending".

As usual in casts in which older and younger generations of actors are together on stage, the veterans do overshadow the newcomers. Both Marsha Mason and Richard Masur offer disarmingly spontaneous and touching performance as Amanda's parents, adding naturalness often missing in the lines written for their roles. Gillian Jacobs tends to underline her dramatic gestures too heavily in the kind of self-explanatory acting often found in American theatres, but it cannot be denied she has an engaging presence, an excellent voice and is also really cute. I do hope to see her again on stage. Alec Beard has the difficult task of portraying the rather cliché-ed role of the rock-star-to-be fiancé. The lack of depth and predictability of this character is actually the weak-link of the play, and only a more experienced actor would have found variety where there is none. Joe Paulick has more luck with the mailman boyfriend from high school days, bue he also succombs to the sitcom acting-style.

Blair Brown's direction is praiseworthy in its directness and economy of means. One can see he gave his actors all the space they needed, what is particularly positive in the case of Mason. Cameron Anderson's simple but effective sceneries offer smart solutions fo the different settings.

Sunday, October 14th 2007

• Contessa, perdono

When I saw Jonathan Miller's production of Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro in 2005, I named my review "Contessa, perdono", because of the words I had written about the evening's prima donna. Now I repeat the same title because of the words I did write back then. This fall's reprise had been anounced with Dorothea Röschmann and Isabel Bayrakdarian as mistress and servant in the Almaviva household - an exotic idea considering these ladies' similarity of Fach. However, Röschmann's health problems and Bayrakdarian's pregnancy forced the Met to recast. Therefore, Hei-Kyung Hong, the Met's resident Countess was called to fill in.

Although Hong's soprano used to be more crystalline in 2005, these two years must have been very rewarding to the Korean soprano. This afternoon she proved to be an all-round entirely satisfying Countess. As in 2005, her voice is an admirable instrument: at once full and silvery lyric soprano with the most easy and gleaming top register. However, her ability to convey it through Mozartian lines is impressively improved. Maybe I saw her in a bad day in 2005, but the difference is simply striking. She is still not entirely at ease with Porgi, amor, but her Dove sono was note-perfect. Hers was a spirited, charming performance - and her stage persona could not be more graceful. I doubt that Röschmann would have been better, judging from her Salzbug DVD with Harnoncourt.

The "replacement" Susanna is also a true find. The young and volatile Lisette Oropesa from New Orleans has the proper quicksilvery voice, idiomatic Italian, complete grasp of style, enough cutting edge to pierce through the orchestra and a most likeable personality. In her Met debut, Anke Vondung offered an intense and irresistible Cherubino. Her Non so più was a bit thick-toned but Voi che sapete was beautifully sung. If I am not more enthusiastic, it is because I have witnessed the incomparable Joyce DiDonato's Met debut in the same role in 2005.

There are plenty of Figaros more richly sung than Erwin Schrott's - if my memory does not fail me, Luca Pisaroni's performance in 2005 was rather more consistent, for example. But the Uruguayan bass-baritone's stage charisma is an undeniable asset. With his neverending imagination, he illuminates Lorenzo da Ponte's text with fresh new ideas throughout. Also, his ability to interact and to extract the best from his stage partners is praiseworthy, particularly in what refers to his Susanna, with whom she formed a vivacious couple. I am afraid Michele Pertusi is not in the level of the other singers - his slightly veiled bass is not devoid of charm but his whole approach is too buffo for this role.

Britain's contribution to this production is far superior in 2007 than in 2005 - Ann Murray is still a formidable Marcellina and Robin Leggate was in particularly strong voice as Basilio. For once it was a pity they they were deprived of their arias.

Back in 2005, Mark Wigglesworth's conducting was considered too fast and nervous - and I have to confess a soft spot for the "tense" approach for this opera. Philippe Jordan's comfortable, well-organised perspective was too reliable on the cast to produce the necessary sparkle. Differently from 2005, the string playing was often blurred and the brass section again left a lot to be desired.

• Haunted by the ghost of bel canto

Mary Zimmerman's new production of Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor has been chosen as the symbol of the Met's 2007/2008 season. Natalie Dessay's face is posted at every bus stop and subway station in Manhattan over the slogan "You'd be mad to miss it". However, I would say that the whole production team may have exaggerated their focus on madness. Sure Lucia's theme is the loosening of the title's role mental health, but as shown in the Met there was madness written all over the place from note one - and that leaves very little space for development. As a result, the audience is perfectly used to Lucia's drollness in the first act - the rest seems her just another extravagance.

In the Met's old production, Lucia was first shown as the dictionary definition of the Romantic heroine - lovely, radiant, innocent. Her long scene with Enrico pictured her vulnerability, rather a prey of a dilemma because her brother was not portrayed as a gruesome psycopath but rather a passive-aggressive selfish but not entirely insensitive fellow. The wedding scene revealed a gigantic barely unbearable effort to "do the right thing" until we finally saw the shattering of the Romantic image into semi-grotesque in the mad scene. Although Elizabeth Futral was permanently struggling with her notes, her acting was able to convey all that. Although the production was far from brilliant, it allowed her to do all that. I do not know if Zimmerman's direction allowed Natalie Dessay to do something of the kind. I have to confess I found her stage performance rather mannered, if skilled and neatly done. I would say more: I could only "get" Dessay's Lucia from the musical point of view.

Although the French soprano's high register has seen more focused days, her voice is still lovely and her descent to the lower reaches is now perfectly mastered. Her coloratura remains truly impressive and she can toss in alts whenever they are required. However, what makes her so admirable is her enormous musical imagination and endless tonal variety. Because of that, the wandering of Lucia's mind were touchingly portrayed in the mad scene - a remarkable feat, especially in a big theatre. All that said, a singing-actress like her should know that bel canto requires tonal variety dictated by the weight of every word in Italian text, a lesson taught by Renata Scotto and observed by Patrizia Ciofi in her video of the French version of this opera. Dessay's diction is too generalized for that.

As Edgardo, Marcello Giordani did not seem to be in his best days. His tenor was a bit bottled-up and his phrasing rather unflowing and prone to lachrimosity. In the closing scene, he produced all-right impressive high notes, but legato was still largely absent. He definitely could not dispel the memory of Giuseppe Filianoti's expressive Edgardo, sung in dulcet voice.

Marius Kwiecien's forceful bairtone was in healthy shape as Enrico, but his singing was rather one-dimensional. John Relyea offered a far more sensitive performance, but his bass can be somewhat colourless. Stephen Costello, on the other hand, displayed a dark-hued but light tenor that sounds really promising. Provided he is not tempted to sing big lyric roles too early, he will be someone we are going to hear about often.

James Levine proved that Donizetti's music has plenty to offer in the hands of a great conductor. He provided rich sounds without drowning his singers, opted for sensitive tempi and offered amazing increase in tension in the sextett, one of the best I have ever heard. His partnership with Dessay in the mad scene (done with glass harmonica) was particularly positive.

As to the staging, again I cannot see why the fuss - the solutions for the opening and the Wolf Crag scene are downright cheap, the little comical touches throughout simply distracting and the sceneries could look provincial (especially in the mad scene). Although the old sets did not show an ounce of imagination, their claustrophobic interiors and evocative outdoors produce the right effect more immediately than the new ones - at least for me.

Saturday, October 13th 2007

• Butterfly flown to higher levels

Although Anthony Minghella's production of Puccini's Madama Butterfly still seems unconvincing to my eyes (small-scaled for a theatre as big as the Met and often clumsy in its attempt for cleanliness), the musical experience proved to be significantly improved in its 2007 incarnation.

The cast remain light-voiced to the music, but conductor Mark Elder showed understanding of how to accomodate singers' needs without sacrificing his orchestra. The gentler string playing helped otherwise to create a colouristic effect with richer woodwind sound. The brass section has seen better days, though - even Puccini's quote of their national anthem did not seem to inspire these musicians to produce something decent. Comparing Patricia Racette to Cristina Gallardo-Domas in this production's title role is rather enlightening. Both are lyric sopranos whose voices resent loud and high writing (something a lirico spinto would not need to complain about). Gallardo-Domas's sound is basically lighter and brighter (therefore, more immediately convencing for a 15-year-old character). However, she is the kind of singer who lets herself be overwhelmed by the dramatic charge (especially in such an opera) and although there is no doubt about her commitment, the sound was often strained and laborious.

Racette's creamy soprano, however, is handled with amazing technical skill. Her low and medium register are natural and pleasant, her phrasing is varied and subtle, the occasional mezza voice properly floated and if many a dramatic passage resulted rather colourless tone, she could produce stunning crescendo effects in climatic top notes. If this intelligent and sensitive artist's portrayal does not rank with the great Butterflies from the past (is there any exemplary Cio-cio-san around these days?), it is probably because all her skill cannot replace the proper effect a brighter and more concentrated sound would produce in this music (yes, as far as lyric sopranos are concerned, I am speaking of Victoria de los Angeles).

The only remainder from the original cast, Maria Zifchak proved her Suzuki gained intensity since last year and if she could work a bit more on her Italian, she would have been excellent. Roberto Alagna is far from the most musicianly or elegant among tenors, but his voice is often pleasant on the ears - and he has the today rare ability of giving life to the text, making for a particularly friendly approach to this rather unlikable role. That said, his high notes were mostly congested and unflowing. I wonder how he can sing Manrico this way. Finally, Luca Salsi's forceful baritone and crispy delivery of the Italian text were most welcome.

Friday, October 12nd 2007

 

• Again Shirley Verrett

In those days when singers were confined in specific repertoires, all trespassing used to be forbidden in recording studios. We all know that James King sang Otello or that Gundula Janowitz sang Desdemona or that Gwyneth Jones was a noted Aida - but they have rarely been invited to sing these roles in studio. I guess Walter Legge was the first guy to break this rule - his wife was inserted in at least two important "Italian" studio recordings, Karajan's Falstaff and the Turandot with Maria Callas (not to mention all those Verdi Requiems). He also invited Christa Ludwig to sing Adalgisa in Callas's second Norma. He had Nicolai Gedda singing Rossini (again with Callas) and R. Strauss's Capriccio (with Scharzkopf). Then we had famous American singers who would sing different repertoires - the Verdian soprano par excellence, Leontyne Price, is Leinsdorf's Ariadne for Decca, Sherill Milnes did record (again) Leinsdorf's Salome etc.

It is curious that two of the leading mezzo sopranos of their days happened to be American - Grace Bumbry and Shirley Verrett - and never made into a German opera recording in studio. In the case of Bumbry, this is particularly bizarre, since she was the favourite pupil of one the most famous German singers in XXth century, which is Lotte Lehmann. It is even stranger the fact that she did record Lieder by Schumann (and maybe Brahms) and also La Forza del Destino sung in German. But not one opera by Strauss or Wagner - and she did sing Salome and Tannhäuser on stage (and also Klytämnestra in Strauss's Elektra in the end of her career). I reckon she would have been wonderful as Octavian, Ariadne (both as Ariadne or the Composer), Kundry, Ortrud, Fricka etc...

In the case of Shirley Verrett, the story is even sadder. Although she was noted for her performances in French roles (in France too), I might be mistaken - but there is not one studio recording in this repertoire with her . And she was a famous Dalila (as we can see twice on video), Sélika (as seen on video) and Carmen (only available in pirate recordings). There is not one record of her German roles (I'm not counting one tiny valkiry in Stokowski's Walkürenritt).

Actually, when I say "German roles", I might be indulging in exaggeration. I only know one German role of hers - which is the title role in Beethoven's Fidelio. I have always been curious about this performance and thanks to a generous friend I was able to listen to an in-house recording of her performance of April 17th 1982 at the Met. The recorded sound is reallly, I mean REALLY bad, but one can see that Bernard Haitink was in fiery disposition. His conducting there is far more exciting than in his (very good) recording for Philips in Dresden with Jessye Norman. The cast is mostly undistinguished - John Macurdy is a realiable Rocco and Judith Blegen is a charming if microscopic Marzelline. It is difficult to say anything about these singers' interpretation: the sound does not allow enough tone to their voices and they sound really distant most of the time. But one thing is evident - rarely has any singer dealt with the difficulties in the writing of the part of Leonore as nimbly as Verrett. Her high register is amazingly resilient and forceful. Her top notes are thrilling and dependable. The quartett Er sterbe is particularly successful. I am curious to hear the opinion of someone who actually saw her live in this role. With this in-house recording, it is difficult to say much - but this is tempting enough. In any case, it must be noted that climbing up to soprano Fach was not healthy for both Bumbry and Verrett's careers in what regard recordings. I cannot recall any official release featuring any of these singers in a 100% soprano role. There is Bumbry's Venus and Verrett's Lady Macbeth and Adalgisa, but these roles are bi-Fach. Considering the quality of some people who actually made into studios those days, I guess it is OUR loss.

Sunday, October 7th 2007

• Poveri si...

Although it has more than a splash of kitsch, Cilea's Adriana Lecouvreur is a beautiful opera - especially the music written for the soprano in the leading role. Everbody loves the aria Io sono l'umile ancella, but I'm afraid her final aria Poveri fiori is my favourite with its hypnotic ostinato-like accompaniment, a thouching moment which - I would discover - is rarely really touchingly performed.

Some time ago I gave a friend a CD of beautiful arias and Orchesterlieder in order to make her more curious about lyric repertoire and I was really happy she did enjoy much of what I have recorded there. So I had this idea of making a second CD and the first thing I wanted to record there was precisely Adriana's Poveri fiori.

My only complete recording used to be Levine's with Renata Scotto. She gives a compelling performance and floats unforgettable pianissimi throughout, but whenever she has to sing forte the result is piercingly shrill - so the dynamic contrasts end on sounding like "lovely" vs. "strained". In the context of the complete performance, this is not a fatal flaw, but for a collection of arias it simply does not work. Maria Callas does fare far better - her approach is more coherent, the contrasted piano and forte moments more integrated, but I still wished Cilea had not prescribed the loud singing passages that only made the soprano strained. So I have decided to make a trade-off for just immaculate singing. After all, the idea is showing my friend what a beautiful aria Poveri fiori is and not highlighting any particular's singers histrionic skills - and everybody knows that sour top notes are not the best introduction to the world of opera. I was disappointed to discover that the discography is not very rich... I couldn't find any studio recording with Caballé and Jane Eaglen was a no-go. So I decided to check Kiri Te Kanawa with Chung. I could imagine it would be elegant if anonymous. Well, not really - the whole thing is too heavy for her voice, the low phrases are particularly ineffective and the absence of interpretation does make one prone to criticize the results. So I've read somewhere I should check Renée Fleming in her "Homage to the diva" disc. I have to confess she surprised me - the voice is at its golden-toned best and she deals with the difficult spots expertly, offering inteligent replacements for true lirico spinto singing. However, her interpretative touches are so heavily underlined and (maybe intentionally, who knows?) diva-like that in the end very little spontaneity remained to make the experience really moving.

Then this idea occured to me - I must have Renata Tebaldi somewhere. That was not true - I only had Io sono l'umile ancella. A friend of mine finally found it on the Internet, but the bit-rate was too low. In any case, that was it - for once the contrasts between piano and forte do not disturb the purity of tone but on the contrary highlight the musical and dramatic point on not calling the attention to themselves from the technical point of view. Also the naturalness of delivery of the Italian words, but most of all - the miraculous blended of warmth and instrumental poise. I know Tebaldi had her wooden moments on extreme top notes, left something to be desired in flexibility and had this hit-or-miss pitch in high notes in the last phase of her career, but this woman's musicianship is amazing!

It must be a satisfaction for the pro-Callas party in the Callas/Tebaldi feud when one is forced to acknowledge that the whole damned business caught Tebaldi in disadvantage: Callas was the theatrical genius, the responsible for the revolution that restored bel canto works to their proper stylistic locus and she also happened to feature this rarest of Fächer, which is the soprano drammatico d'agilità. Tebaldi's talents are, on the otherwise, what critics generally take for granted.

Nobody is born a lyric soprano or a mezzo coloratura or a tenore di forza or a Heldenbariton. Some people are born with the proper anatomic disposition that gives him or her the potential to be a lyric soprano or a mezzo coloratura or a tenore di forza or a Heldenbariton. If this potential is going to be fulfilled - this is a different issue. Many voice students have beautiful tone quality but lack of concentration, irregular technique, poor musicianiship, lack of discipline, impatience etc might cause him or her simply to pull out unlovely singing. Otherwise, other voice students have voices not particularly remarkable but their dexterity, facility for incorporating technique, hardwork, dedication etc make their singing utterly likeable. The point is - technically accomplished singing is not a God-given quality, but the result of someone's work. There is a special quality of intelligence involving taking millions of tiny technical and expressive decisions that result beautiful and convincing singing. That is the part generally taken for granted. When critics say "Tebaldi was just an amazing voice", they are taking for granted her ability to produce singing of superlative musical effectiveness. Many lirico spinto sopranos have big voices - but very few of them are able to spingere (push) them to louder dynamics with such naturalness and make the heavy demands e on their voices spontaneous musical points instead of self-conscious theatrical feats. In this sense, Tebaldi belongs to the great singers of her age (and of all ages). Her miraculous Manon, her exemplary Leonora (Forza) and her noble Desdemona alone would be enough to secure her reputation. And, yes, to my mind, nobody sings Adriana as she does. There might be more intelligent or dramatic performances of the role - Tebaldi sounds like Adriana.

• Elektra

A review of Rudolf Kempe's Elektra from the Royal Opera House has been added to the discography.

Tuesday, October 2nd 2007

 

• More remembrances of things past

Still browsing though this weblog's archives. Now I know I am always surprised when I receive an e-mail from a "reader". I have often asked for help or suggestion with an e-mail link and never got an answer! I do receive some letters now and then, but actually never when I asked to receive them. Someone, maybe Isabela, told me the fact I don't have a form to post comments is most unfriendly - but the truth is this weblog is made on my computer's Dreamweaver. A friend of mine once lost all her posts because Blogger had a crash or something - and this thraumatized me for life.

The good thing is I myself could find the answer for one of the unanaswered questions - who is Regina Fonseca, probably the only lusophone (i.e., native Portuguese speaker) ever to appear in the Bayreuth Festival. I wanted her to be Brazilian, but she is actually Portuguese (as the first Isolde - Malvina Schnorr von Carolsfeld, née Garrigues).

The oldest unanswered question in this blog is - who sings the Tannhäuser/Venus act I scene in the soundtrack of Istvan Szabo's Meeting Venus. It is certainly not René Kollo and Waltraud Meier. As an evidence of that, the soundtrack CD does not have a track for it.

Other unanswered question - what happened to Alexei Steblianko?! I had forgotten about him, but on reading about his performance in that Boris Godunov with Larissa Diadkova, I remember he was really impressive and that he was supposed to be a good Otello and Siegfried (maybe he sang all that in Russian) - who knows?

Monday, October 1st 2007

• One more Four Last Songs

The review of Pappano's recording of R. Strauss's Vier letzte Lieder with Nina Stemme has been added to the discography. Last time I took a look at it, I remember I felt a bit disappointed by Karita Mattila, but after having listened to Stemme I review my revision. Even if there is space for improvement in Mattila's performance, it never disappoints in the essential thing: there is an interpretation going on there. And what radiant warm sounds she constantly produces!

This was a Straussian day - I have realised I had never listened to my recording of Karl Böhm's Frau ohne Schatten from New York (Rysanek, Ludwig, Dalis, King, Berry). I would have to listen to it more attentively before I could say something, but one thing must be said - Christa Ludwig is AMAZING. If you hear someone saying something less positive than that about her, just don't trust this person.

Sunday, September 30th 2007

• Apologies

Reading through these weblog's archives, I have realized I owe apologies to those who have been reading it since 2002. I was astonished to see that this used to be far more interesting reading back then. I am sorry to see how less enthusiastic I have become over the years... It was curious to realize also that I used to be something of a Wagnerian then - and that this is really in the past now. Nota bene: I still find Wagner an absolute genius; only my spiritual connection with his music has decreased a lot. Not Lohengrin though - it will always remain one of my favourites - a perfect work of art.

It was curious to read my appreciation of Karajan's Frau ohne Schatten - I've called it my desert-isle disc and the performance I would probably choose to see if allowed a one-time-only time voyage. I have used the same words some years later for Karajan's Elektra!

I have written less and less about movies - but this is not an unconscious thing. I have noticed that my "reviews" tended to be more and more similar to each other. I was always saying the same things about very different movies and decided to restrain from posting about cinema. Curiously, I have written more and more about theatre (although I go more often to the movies than to the theatre - but I guess that's the same with everyone else). But today I feel like writing about a movie.

João Moreira Salles is one of Brazil's leading documentarists. His brother is Walter Salles, the director of Dark Water, The Motorcycle Diaries and Central Station. Their father was the late Walter Moreira Salles, a bank-owner who also happened to be a State minister and an ambassador, and their mother Elizinha was Rio de Janeiro's Ur-socialite in the 50's and 60's. Their beautiful modern-architecture mansion in Rio is now a cultural center and used to be the setting of some unforgettable dinner-parties. When João Moreira Salles decided to cut his teeth as a documentarist, he chose to make a movie on the family's butler, Santiago. That happened long after the mistress of the house had died and Santiago had retired in a tiny apartment filled with memorabilia and thousands of pages of appointments about History of Aristocracy (his hobby). The movie was never completed though.

Many years later the director had decided to check back at the "raw" material and decided to give it a second chance in metalinguistic approach. On trying to understand what made him give up his original ideas, the director made not only an analysis of his subject, the butler, but also on himself - and on understanding his choices from the past, he was able to give himself and the subject full justice in the present. It is an unforgettable experience. To start with, the black and white photography has a straight-jacket elegance with absolutely rigorous framing influenced by the Japanese film-maker Yasujiro Ozu (although the informed movie-goer could sense this, this is acknowledged in the movie itself). Then the director's own analysis of his material is fascinating and nonobstrusive.

And then there is his subject - Santiago, an Argentinian of Italian ascent, is something of a more flamboyant and sophisticated version of Flaubert's Felicité from Un coeur simple. In one moment, the director remembers as a child to listen to piano playing downstairs only to find the buttler playing the instrument in black tie. Asked why he was all dressed up, Santiago answered "Because of Beethoven's music, my child". Although Santiago was a sensitive man, he has spent his life as a servant and cultivated a reverent attitude towards beauty. He never tried to make something of it, but found it his duty to faithfully record it - hence the immense amount of typed pages with the history of aristocracy. In his old age in the lonely apartment, he sees the Florentine Medici, among others, as his only friends.

And then there is the young director who seems to be constantly refusing his subject a voice, editing obsessively his spoken testimonial, avoiding themes his "character" would like to address and subsconsciously still playing the boss to the old servant. The mature director's acknowledge of all that makes the movie even more valuable and touching. As in his documentary about the incredibly shy Nelson Freire, Moreira Salles has earned the talent of showing in the screen what is not said, of letting silence speak. And that is what he was able to do in memoriam in his latest documentary.

In a particularly beautiful moment, Santiago tells about a treasured memory. His mistress asked him to postpone his vacations because of a particularly important dinner party. He obediently does so, although the party happened to be exactly in his birthday. While he was at the kitchen, he was summoned at the dining hall. His mistress gave him a glass of champagne and asked all the elegant and important guests to raise a toast to the butler's birthday. After his death, his mistress's son would eventualy serve the servant this beautiful work-of-art through which he will not be gone in oblivion. Not to be missed.

Saturday, September 29th 2007

• Humble strains but faintly show

Magdalena Kozená has earned a good reputation in Handel with her Cleopatra in Marc Minkowski's recording of Giulio Cesare in Egitto. There she almost made us think of Lucia Popp in her warm, charming and touching performance. Inteligent and stylish as her performance is, the reedy purity of her light and high mezzo soprano played an important part in all that.

All that makes it more puzzling why a singer would record a whole CD in which, to use Leontyne Price's expression, she is singing against the grain of such a lovely voice! I know reviewers tend to be hard on Kozená's attempts to sing "grown-up" repertoire and how badly she wants to prove that there is a brain under her golden locks - but I am afraid the attempt here ended on being self-defeating.

I understand that a singer would like to infuse her recital with personality in order to imprint her mark on the items recorded and thus ensure that she will be taken in reference for her work (and the competition certainly is hard!), but sheer will has never won over Fach. To translate into general terms, if you had to cast the part of Lady Macbeth or Agrippina in Racine's Britannicus, would you invite an Audrey Hepburn? Or for that matter, would you invite an Anna Magnani for a Juliet?

Kozená's new CD opens with an Alcina's Ah, mio cor. The role of Alcina is written for a prima donna (it is after all, the title role). In our times, the role has been a vehicle for Joan Sutherland, Renée Fleming, Arleen Augér, Anja Harteros, Christine Schäfer. Suffice it to say all these ladies have sung the role of Donna Anna in Mozart's Don Giovanni. Last time Kozená appeared in that opera, she played the part of Zerlina. And that might explain why her basic sound is so polite and small-scale in this aria. There is little space left to tone colouring or variety of dynamics. Abrupt ending of phrases and rolling the r's will have to make for an attitude. I won't compare her to Fleming or Harteros, but listen to Augér and you won't see tiny inserted interpretative points, but the despair, frustration and sadness there from note one (and everybody knows that the first Ah shows if this is going to work or not). Augér's progressive increase in intensity steady during these 10 minutes only exposes Kozená's calculated monotony.

Next comes Dejanira's Where shall I fly?, one of Handel's most powerful scenes for alto. The scene is extremely dramatic and it is tempting to overdo it. The always immaculate Joyce DiDonato does not survive the test in William Christie's DVD: the low tessitura does not help her and acting with the voice had to do what the voice could not produce alone. This is not a problem for Sarah Walker in Gardiner's recording, who lets the text speak for itself and relies on the natural darkness of her voice to produce the necessary impact. Even unaided by Jesús Lopez-Cobos's pasteurized conducting, Jennifer Larmore reaches tragical grandeur in this scene without sacrificing musical values. Kozená's svelte mezzo does not evoke in itself the depth of feeling wanted by Handel - her off-pitch and parlando effects only bring about a choir boy's fit of bad temper. The fact that her English words are rather lifeless makes the proceedings even less spontaneous.

If Where shall I fly? seems to be a bad choice, what to say of Orlando's Mad Scene, written for none other than Senesino?! To say that one should listen to Nathalie Stutzmann to see how this scene should be sung only explain why Kozená should never touch it - the results are short of embarassing.

The two arias of Ariodante could fit Kozená's natural range but they both require a heroic quality that eludes entirely her gentle instrumental mezzo soprano. To make things worse, her conductor did not help her. Scherza, infida takes 11' 39'' here. Minkowski goes even further in his recording with Anne Sofie von Otter (11' 52''), but his soloist "fills out" the slow tempo with her neverending tonal variety and rescues the repeat from boredom with a hushed intimate delivery of the text. Kozená does not command that variety and resorts to expressionistic playing with pitch on trying to produce an intensity not available for her. Here Nicholas McGegan is miles ahead of competition: at 8' 46'' he finds the "heartbeat" pulse that animates this aria, what becomes the shattering performance of Lorraine Hunt. She does not need to "portray" anything - there is unforced despair and revolt in the sound of her voice.

Dopo notte's fireworks suit Kozená far better and her amazing skill with coloratura does not let down. Von Otter and Minkowski go deeper into the chiaroscuro suggested by the text, when the singer achieves some expression of joy in her runs. Although the aria is a bit high for Lorraine Hunt, McGegan allows her to relax more and singing her divisions in perfect legato does suggest more lightness. After all, the main idea of this aria is relief after all the predicaments experimented by these characters. Again Jennifer Larmore has rather stolid conducting to deal with, but the flowing ease with which she sings this aria is simply amazing; this is a heroic role and Larmore's energy and strength are always welcome.

The remaining items are far more pleasant and congenial to Kozená. Sesto's Cara speme from Giulio Cesare is not an aria d'affetto as its sweet melody might suggest, but Marcon lets himself be fooled by that, offering too dolce an approach to an aria that actually has to do with the satisfaction of justified revenge. But Kozena sings it exquisitely - for once her boyish sound is entirely appropriate to her character. She could have produced a lovely Oh, had I Jubal's lyre from Joshua, but Marcon mistakes the affetto here and instead of offering any sense of jubilation, produces a rather tense approach that only spurs a certain nervousness in the fioriture of his singer, who is not even allowed to give life to the text, as Kathleen Battle does in her EMI recital. The American soprano even finds an opportunity to show a certain sense of humble gentleness when expressing her frustration for being unable to praise the Lord better. Considering her conductor is the ponderous Neville Marriner, this is no small feat.

It remains the case of Agrippina's Pensieri, voi mi tormentate and Melissa's Desterò dell'empia Dite (from Amadigi). Although the voice is again too light and well-behaved for this music, the very calculating approach that makes her Alcina or her Dejanira unconvincing help her to portray the insincerity, the scheming nature of her Agrippina and the hysterical and over-the-top "call to the arms" of her Melissa.

Re-reading this post, I feel that I might give the impression I have some sort of issue with Kozená's artistry - that is not true. I am an admirer of hers - hence the disappointment not with her artistry, but with her poor decision of choosing arias that only highlight her limitations and almost never show her many natural assets. If she wanted to record soprano arias, why not Dalla sua gabbia d'oro or Un lusinghiero dolce pensiero from Alessandro? Or any other from the arias written for Bordoni? If she wanted some primo uomo arias, why not choosing some of Ruggiero's arias from Alcina, such as Mi lusinga il dolce affetto or Di te mi rido? Or from Bertarido in Rodelinda? She would have sung an unforgettable Dove sei? ! How come has a major release such as this been prey to such poor judgment?

Monday, September 24th 2007

 

• Teresa Berganza

I would write something more complicate, but laziness preventes it. While listening to Varviso's recording of Barbiere di Siviglia, I felt like posting something about the absolute Rossini mezzo soprano, which is Teresa Berganza. Call me obnoxious, but my opinion is that between Berganza and Joyce DiDonato there is nothing really worth the detour.

Sunday, September 23rd 2007

 

• I wouldn't have believed if I had not seen and heard myself

Shirley Verrett is obviously a very great singer. I remember the first time I heard her back in the 80's in a tape of Vivaldi's Stabat Mater which haunts me still today. But I never thought I would hear of something like a recital in which a singer sings both Mozart's Exsultate, jubilate and Wagner's Liebestod! And beautifully both of them. I feel tempted to say purists will raise an eyebrow - but that is just a cliché. She produces stylish Mozart and Wagner and still finds room too add her own Verrett-isms which just spice the proceedings. Bravissima!

My browsing through youtube found so many contrasted examples of her artistry - such as audio excerpts of her Amelia (Ballo in Maschera) and video excerpts of her Tosca at the Met (both with Pavarotti).

Saturday, September 22nd 2007

• Semiramide

A review of Marcello Panni's recording with Edita Gruberová has been added to the discography.

Tuesday, September 18th 2007

• Lohengrin

The discography of Lohengrin has been rewritten and a review of the DVDs from Barcelona with Emily Magee and John Treleaven has been added.

Saturday, September 15th 2007

• Confronted with a quotation

Browsing through Wikipedia, I found the following text:

Rodrigo Maffei Libonati says: "The casting of the main role in this opera used to be plagued by two serious diseases named soprano leggiera and soprano drammatica. For a long while, going to the theatre to see Norma would either mean a large voiced woman desperately trying to be a tempo in florid passages or a light voiced one fast as a bird but virtually inaudible. In both cases, they would be primarily concerned about their voices. It was Maria Callas who settled the whole affair, showing that Norma needs both vocal weight and flexibility, but also that the quality of Pasta - intensity of declamation - is everything in this role. The kind of singing demanded here involves that every word in the text must be highlighted by means of dynamics, tempo and tone colouring in order to create the precise expressive effect. Alas, that has happened very rarely".

I have to say this was a not entirely pleasant surprise for me. Wikipedia should quote Rodolfo Celetti or some truly acknowledged author instead of a paragraph written in the context of a discography. Thus I felt obliged to rewrite the paragraph in the bel canto page in order to make it more precise.

Sunday, September 9th 2007

• An Elektra from São Paulo

John Neschling, artistic director of the OSESP, explains he chose to present Elektra in concert version because the combination of Hofmannsthal's text and Richard Strauss's music is powerful enough to produce a theatrical experience even out of the context of a staging. On reading these words, one could expect the sort of bombastic performance that follows statements like that, although there is nothing false about saying that. The point is that many a conductor who believes Elektra to be powerful music actually feels it important to help a bit the composer by an extra amount of brutality not exactly prescribed by the score. That was not Neschling's case. He could find the right balance between rich orchestral sounds and the necessity of accomodating the needs of soloists, what is a key for the sucess of any performance of this work. Those nurtured in Solti's recording with Birgit Nilsson might want a more incisive approach but Neschling could find optimal vertical clarity and reserved the full powers of his orchestra for the climatic moments. The OSESP was in top form, abounding in crystalline string sounds and offering accurate playing from the brass section.

The OSESP's Elektra, Susan Bullock, is not exactly a dramatic soprano - she produces big top notes all right and has a large voice, but one sees she has to shift for another gear for the most exposed passages, when her soprano could sound rather colourless and gusty. In these circumstances, her stamina is truly admirable: I could say she ended the opera without any sign of fatigue - already something of a feat. What is beyond doubt is her musical intelligence - she has very clear diction (a rarity in this repertoire), expert word pointing and tone colouring and - when not hard pressed - her voice has a rather feminine and young (although not immediately pleasant) sound. Because of that, the long scene with Orest showed her particularly vulnerable and touching. Although the concert featured only a hint of stage movements, Bullock proved that she needs no costumes and sceneries to produce the complete experience - her dramatic commitment and sheer charisma worked the magic alone.

Silvana Dussman's bright focused almost instrumental soprano produced the right kind of contrast in the role of Chrysothemis. Although her voice is some five inches below the the required jugendlich dramatisch soprano fach, her gleaming top notes did provide the necessary thrill. A beautiful performance. Jadwiga Rappé's mezzo soprano similarly was a couple of sizes too small for Klytämnestra - she understands the role and deals with the difficult declamatory passages to the manner born, but both her extreme top and low notes were too modest for the occasion. As usual, Stephen Bronk was an exemplary Orest in his rock-solid Heldenbariton. Ian Storey´s tenor is heartier than we are used to hear in this part, but the angular writing of the part of Ägysth showed him a bit unfocused and uninteresting. Among the minor roles, mezzo soprano Adriana Clis caused a great impression with her sizeable dark mezzo soprano as the First Maid.

Saturday, September 8th 2007

• Pavarotti

It is a pity that most obituaries focus the fact that Pavarotti should be remembered by his earlier career and that we should kindly overlook what he has done since. What made Pavarotti so likeable what his spontaneity - the radiant naturalness of his tenor, the freshness of his delivery of Italian words in his singing, his emotional sincerity. His artlessness made him so immediately congenial - and his congeniality led him to be pop and maybe carefree, but that has always been in the core of what his charm was. Let's remember Pavarotti 100% how he was.

Friday, September 7th 2007

• Blame it on Rio

It seems the first time Arturo Toscanini ever conducted an orchestra before an audience happened to be in Rio de Janeiro in 1886. The opera then was Aida - and Aida (in concert version) was chosen by Lorin Maazel and the Symphonica Toscanini to pay him a tribute. As I have written in my comments on the Symphinica Toscanini's Avery Fisher Hall concert with René Pape, this is an orchestra made of young musicians of which Maazel himself is the musical director. The 2007 tournée is meant as a tribute to Toscanini's death 50th anniversary.

It is predictable that the main feature of the concert was Maazel himself. The prestigious conductor found the right balance between a symphonic reading and attention to soloists. His orchestra has an extremely polished sound and Maazel tried to cleanse the score from all vulgarity. Large ensembles looked amazingly Mahlerian in their polish and orderliness, without any loss in excitement. On the contrary: these young musicians were particularly enthusiastic and inside the dramatic action as rarely one sees in a concert version of opera. One could feel their interaction with soloists, masterly tutored by the conductor, especially in the more "chamber-like" proportions of act III. A beautiful rendition of Verdi's masterpiece.

Maria Guleghina's exuberant voice and personality do not fit entirely the role of Aida. Her voice is powerful and ductile as demanded, but the low register eludes her entirely and having to produce some volume down there eventually tired the singer and her tendency to misfiring her top notes increased during the night. When sung forte, they could be below pitch. When sung piano, they could be airy and fragile. In any case, Guleghina is an intelligent, engaged artist who never cheats; her artistic sincerity and generosity steered her to the end of the opera with the audience on her side. Young mezzo soprano Anna Smirnova has all the elements of a Borodina-like dramatic mezzo in the making, but it seems she is tackling heavy roles too soon. She is a capable singer who has many tricks on her sleeves, but the fact that her powerful top notes and contralto-like low notes cannot hide a barely hearable middle register is an evidence that she should give her voice some time to develop. One can understand the seduction of singing roles such as Amneris to such a convincing and intense singer, but it would be a pity to see a talent such as hers burn out because of impatience. Walter Fraccaro is a very solid Radamés. His voice is the lirico spinto one would expect to hear in this opera and one will forgive his absence of variety and nuance in a role usually treated to overparted singers. Juan Pons's sizeable baritone has seen better days and the most dramatic moments show him overemphatic and a bit behind the beat, but the tone is always pleasant to the ears and he has the charisma to make it work. A disappointing King Marke in Rome last year, Rafael Siwek works far better as Ramfis - his dark large bass produce the necessary authority in a role in which he does not have to be so verbally specific as in Tristan und Isolde.

• What is better than an orchestra of young musicians?

Two orchestras, of course. That is why the Theatro Municipal in Rio was crowded for the Gustav Mahler Jugendorchester all-Mahler concert under Philippe Jordan on Sunday afternoon. Many might say that having Thomas Hampson for a selection of songs from the Knaben Wunderhorn could explain a bit of appeal, but the truth is that an amazingly precise and virtuosistic account of the 6th symphony met with far more success with the audience. Mahler's orchestral songs are always hard to pull out live - the orchestra is too big and the composer has a fondness for singers' middle registers (making it hard to pierce through the large orchestra). Hampson generally made himself heard, truth be said, but even if he still has retained most tools in his kit of expressive tone colouring, his baritone has lost a bit of its honeyed quality and exposed passages lacked flowing quality. I understand that in order to make for this unease with legato, he chose only "military" songs in the cycle. The result was rather tautological.

The singer would face a sort of anthropological experience. Part of the audience had not been introduced to the practice of restraining from applause until the end of a program's part and decided to clap their hands in approval after each song. The rest of the audience decided to show their education by energetically shh-ing them. The pro-applause group has decided to react by applauding with renewed enthusiasm. By the third installment of this battle of wills, the soloist himself decided to intervene. "Thank you very much, I really am honoured, but these songs require concentration and I would ask you to applause only in the end". These words sufficed to produce the necessary silence - even after the last song. Encouragement from the orchestra cued the audience to deserved cheering.

Sunday, August 26th 2007

• Fie on Figaro

A review of Harnoncourt's DVD of Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro from Salzburg has been added to the discography.

Monday, August 13th 2007

• Imbrogli from Così fan tutte

Some say Mozart's Don Giovanni is the most fascinating of operas. I feel guilty to disagree: I simply cannot resist buying an extra Don Giovanni. But that is probably because I still believe one day the perfect conductor will find the perfect Donna Anna, the perfect Donna Elvira, the perfect Zerlina, the perfect Don Ottavio, the perfect Don Giovanni, the perfect Leporello and the perfect Commendatore and someone will realize that they ought to be recorded and in the day of that recording everybody is going to be in good voice, inspiring the orchestra to impassionate playing. But the truth is that I find that Così fan tutte is Mozart and Da Ponte's absolute masterpiece and, in its apparently lightness, a neverending source of insights about theatre, music and the human nature.

Most people consider the closing scene of Così fan tutte extremely disturbing - there is no redemption for characters whose mistakes we perfectly sympathize with. I remember many conversations about that (especially with Olivier), in which I resisted the idea that this was a comedy with a depressing ending. I used to say that the key to understand Così is its subtitle "the school for lovers" - in the sense that Fiordiligi and Guglielmo's and Dorabella and Ferrando's relationship were engagements of convenience (made palatable by the fact that they were all young, good-looking and wealthy people) and Don Alfonso's experiment obliged them to descend from their well-established pedestals and face the unpredictabilities of truly falling in love. In that sense, Ferrando would soon discover in Fiordiligi his soulmate, while Guglielmo and Dorabella would find each other hard to resist. Mozart's score even supported this line of interpretation - is it not true that Fiordiligi and Ferrando's lines become increasingly more and more similar during the opera? That theory does not however explain what happens when Alfonso reveals the whole scheme and tells them to get over the whole thing - after all "they were engaged". If Fiordiligi is supposed to leave her newly-found kindred spirit Ferrando for Guglielmo - that would be indeed a sad ending. My own private idea was that the original couples would be restored but after their weddings the whole Naples would gossip about those sisters who had suspicious relationships with their brothers-in-law.

However, while watching the new Glyndenbourne video, it occurred to me that Ferrando is actually being sincere in Tradito, schernito. In this sense, it is him and Dorabella the two characters who experiment significant development during the opera. He discovers that - notwithstanding the fact that his beloved has none of the qualities he used to pray in a woman - it is her the one he loves. This is basically what the last lines in the opera mean: "fortunate those who are able to use reason to deal with the events in his life; he will find a matter for laughter in subjects that make others weep and will always enjoy perfect peace". In other words - if you always use reason in your personal affairs, you'll never be a victim of passions and your life will be a perfectly balanced row of peaceful days. In the eve of Romanticism, one might perfectly ask - who would want that? That is exactly what Dorabella discovers: it is better to surrender to passion and enjoy her life than being a well-behaved melancholic creature. In this sense, she is also actually being sincere in L'amore è un ladroncello.

It is no coincidence that both Ferrando and Dorabella have grandiloquent first arias (the hysterical Smanie implacabili and the almost childishly naive Un'aura amorosa) only to throw wigs and protocol to the airs and speak bluntly in their last arias. On the other hand, Fiordiligi begins as formidably as she ends and Guglielmo skates in the surface of events from note one to the fine in the last page of the score.

Of course, all that is idle writing - only to explain why I have changed my mind and now believe that the return to the original couples is not entirely sad - Ferrando and Dorabella have learnt something from the lesson taught by Don Alfonso and Despina - if you are in control of your feelings for someone, you don't really love him or her - while Fiordiligi and Guglielmo are only shocked about themselves (she disappointed with her own vincibility and he disappointed with his replaceability) and will probably pursue their engagement out of convenience (exactly as in the beginning of the opera). On having a couple who has learnt the lesson and other who has not, the classical structural balance is preserved and the character of the experiment acquires a certain "scientific" character.

Thursday, August 9th 2007

• New sopranos

The fact that almost no-one has ever heard British soprano Kate Royal's voice before EMI has decided she is the world of opera's new hot (litterally) property has fuelled good old debates about British classical music marketing and about looks in opera. Before I say anything about Royal, I have no problem about saying what I think about these two issues:

a) It is hardly British classical music industry's fault if WE follow the trends they establish. For example, if Paraguay's music industry decided to invest billions of dollars in order to satisfy the Paraguayan audiences' thirst for classical music with massive releases of Paraguayan opera singers in New York, London, Paris, Berlin, Munich, Barcelona and Milan linked with contracts with these cities' opera houses, maybe we would be debating right now the Paraguayan version of Kate Royal. The problem is that Paraguay is not the only country in the world where music record companies prefer to invest in their national versions of April Lavigne et al. If you think that the audiences in New York (of all places) still wonder why they have to deal with underequipped British sopranos in main roles while there are hundreds of unemployed talented North American singers around, you have to concede that money is not necessarily the explanation.

b) It is hardly someone's fault if one has good looks. As I have written before, it is curious that only women have their good looks used against them. When a baritone or a tenor is good-looking, this is considered a quality. This is particularly perverse because I have often observed that beautiful women in serious jobs tend to feel that they have to compensate their "disadvantage" by working even harder to prove themselves worthy of their positions - and frankly I don't recall any bad singer promoted to stardom just because of looks. It is arguable that there might be better singers around albeit less pleasant to the eyes. But isn't that true as a general rule? If you think of the cinematographic industry, in which even "ugly" roles are given to people like Michelle Pfeiffer!

Back to Kate Royal, I have only heard her on the Gramophone August issue's CD, in which she sings Ravel's Vocalise en forme de habanera. I have no idea of how her voice sounds live (or how she deals with words, for instance), but the voice as recorded is certainly charming and there is fine musicianship there. Gramophone says she has the right voice for Mozart - and there is indeed a bit of Kiri Te Kanawa in that sound. I have to confess I am curious.

Gramophone also reserves a track of its CD to Nicole Cabell, whose feats are more widely known, not only from Cardiff Singer of the World, but also from live performances in places like the Bayerische Staatsoper. Hers is a most puzzling voice. Her So anch'io la vertu magica from Don Pasquale shows a singer with a rich velvety voice really homogeneous throughout her range - her extreme notes extraordinarily comfortable. Although she never distorts her line, she is able to infuse her performance with sense of humour and nobody would mistake her Norina for a well-behaved modest girl - but there is something unsettling about her singing, as if her vocal personality did not belong to the light repertoire, although her voice does not seem to be heavy or forceful enough to tackle something more dramatic than that. Maybe this is a sign that, if she is patient enough to wait for her voice to blossom, maybe we'll see her in big lyric roles in the next decade - but who knows? I confess again I am curious to see more from her.

Wednesday, August 8th 2007

• Lots of Così

The discography has been revised with the inclusion of reviews of Iván Fischer's DVD from Glyndebourne and of Barenboim's studio recording on Erato.

Saturday, August 4th 2007

• More stuff

Back from the trip with lots of new CDs makes it difficult to choose what to listen to. In a second-hand CD shop near the Isartor in Munich I found this Salzburg Festival "special edition" CD with highlights from Mozart opera performances from the Festival's archives. The selection leaves something to be desired - some items are available in complete recordings available in any CD store - but some items are truly tempting. For example, Arleen Augér's Sifare and Edda Moser's Aspasia live from 1971 in an amazing Se viver non degg'io from Mitridate. Why has this not been released? If I am not mistaken, Helen Watts sings Farnace in this performance - and that would be an endearing memento from such an admirable singer. Also, Luba Orgonasová is an impressive Giunia in a Lucia Silla from 1993 with Susan Graham conducted by Sylvain Cambreling. A warning - if you feel curious to check Gundula Janowitz's Fiordiligi with Muti, know that the soprano featured in track 9 from CD 2 is actually Margaret Marshall.

- I can never resist the curiosity of buying "Italian opera in German" whenever I am in Germany. Erede's La Bohème on Deutsche Grammophon has a delicious Mimì in the sadly neglected Pilar Lorengar and a svelte charming Musetta in Rita Streich, but Sándor Kónya finds the role of Rodolfo a bit high and Fischer-Dieskau remains a rather Prussian Marcello. Wilhelm Schüchter's Cavalleria Rusticana and Der Bajazzo on EMI is a bit more exotic (Cav und Baj would be a bizarre nickname in any case). Leonie Rysanek is a crystalline Santuzza but her wayward pitch sounds even stranger in this repertoire. Curiously, the long scene with Turiddù (Rudolf Schock in fresh voice) is not available. Apparently, Rysanek fell ill and wasn't able to complete the recording schedule. Leoncavallo has a bit more luck - Anneliese Rothenberger is a creamy-toned Nedda, Hermann Prey is glamourous casting as Silvio and Josef Metternich sings a powerful Prologue - Josef Traxel is helplessly small-scaled as Canio, however.

- While I am writing, I am listening to Marjana Lipovsek's CD on the Hyperion Complete Shubert Edition. I remember reviewers were not really enthusiastic about that, but my first impression in really really positive. This one will remain on my CD-player for a while.

Friday, August 3rd 2007

• Lots of stuff

- While in Munich, I found Simon Rattle's Walküre from Aix. Of course the old TV in my hotel room had a horrible sound and I couldn't turn the volume up that late because my unlovely (to say the least) neighbours did not seem to be Wagnerians. That said, I could realize nonetheless that this was a major performance. Rattle could spin such rich warm sounds from the string, perfectly blended with woodwind and clean and articulated. Also, Eva-Maria Westbroek was a marvelous Sieglinde! What a creamy rich jugendlich dramatisch soprano she has! On the other hand, I didn't warm to Eva Johannson's Brünnhilde. She is a sensitive artist, but there is too much adaptation and distortion in her vocal production in order to make her a dramatic soprano. The rest of the cast was ok, but I guess that this deserved to be released for Westbroek and Rattle. It seems they will be together in Salzburg with the same work next year - maybe they are waiting to record this at deluxe circumstances.

Speaking of Die Walküre, I am currently listening to act II from Bayreuth's today performance and I have to confess I won't probably be here for act III. The internet broadcast does nto have a great sound and it is difficult to say anything about Thielemann. Linda Watson had some troubles with Ho-jo-to-ho and her voice is not necessarily inspiring, but she is a reliable and intelligent singer. As for Endrik Wottrich, I thought he would make a decent Heldentenor considering the colour of his voice in his Spieltenor days, but it sounds basically rough and unfinished. I also thought Albert Dohmen would be an excellent Wotan - I remember his powerful Amfortas live in Munich in 2004, but the truth is that the voice lacks some firmness and tonal variety these days. This makes the long scene with Brünnhilde really looong. Michelle Breedt's small-scale Fricka did not cause a great impression on me either - but Adrienne Pieczonka is an excellent Sieglinde, touchingly feminine and beautifully sung. Maybe I'll listen to the reprise only to hear her singing act I.

- Can anyone not love Joyce DiDonato? Rarely has my opinion on the artist and his or her artistry been so similar as in her case - she is a lovely singer and, reading her blog, I can also say she is a lovely person. I always believed that generosity is in the core of what art is about - and Joyce DiDonato is a great example of that.

Saturday, July 28th 2007

• Does anyone have Bernstein's Rosenkavalier?

The one released by Sony Masterworks with Christa Ludwig, Gwyneth Jones, Lucia Popp and Walter Berry? Mine has disappeared and I cannot buy it anywhere...

Thursday, July 26th 2007

• Don Giovanni

The discography has been retouched, with a new review for Solti's Don Giovanni live from Covent Garden (with Leyla Gencer) and Bertrand de Billy's DVD from Barcelona. Also, I have re-written my comments on Haitink's EMI recording.

Monday, July 23rd 2007

• Time will tell

A month ago I wrote down my first impressions on Emmanuelle Haïm's recording of Handel's first oratorio, Il Trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno. At that point, I hadn't listened to the two other official recordings, Rinaldo Alessandrini's and Marc Minkowski's, and could only compare it to a broadcast from Luzern with Giovanni Antonini and the Giardino Armonico. Now that I have been able to hear all these recordings, one could say I am more prepared to give an opinion on this work's discography - but the truth is this is a difficult task. All three recordings are very good, but none of them meets my ideal standards.

Minkowski recorded his Trionfo back at the 80's and I am sure he himself would not consider this his "definitive" account of the work. His recent performances live in Zürich and in Paris could maybe make it to the gramophone so that we could check that. As it is, his early recording has a pleasant raw energy, but I guess only in Tempo's Urne voi I would recognize this conductor's hallmark surprising theatrical gestures. I am not sure about his rather sprightly Tu del ciel ministro eletto. Although his cast is hardly immaculate, it is a very good one. Isabelle Poulenard's Bellezza has its edgy moments, but is amazingly accurate in her divisions and expressive and intelligent in her use of the text. Unfortunately, the crucial final aria is rather blank. Nathalie Stutzmann is a stern and pitch-dark toned Disinganno and John Elwes is probably the most smoothly sung Tempo in the discography. Only Jennifer Smith is a serious piece of miscasting. Her voice has not an ounce of sensuousness and the coloratura taxes her.

Rinaldo Alessandrini's recording is a far safer choice - his orchestra is in great shape and his choice of tempi is always reliable and theatrically right. I am afraid no-one would be happy with his dance-like Lascia la spina. Even if this makes sense musically and probably dramatically speaking, I am afraid we are too used to the intensity of Rinaldo's Lascia ch'io pianga. Deborah York's crystalline flexible soprano is comfortable with the technical demands made on her, but her tone is too boyish for the right effect in this music. Her Un pensiero nemico di pace is thoroughly sung but the results are rather unexciting and her final aria - again! - lacks pathos. Gemma Bertagnoli's Piacere is more verbally specific than her rivals but her attitude can be exaggerated now and then. Some of her repeats are a bit misguided too. Sara Mingardo is a discrete and velvety-toned Disinganno, but Nicholas Sears is uncomfortable with the part of Tempo's low tessitura.

My first impression on Emmanuelle Haïm's recording was similar to most reviewers' - she is trying (as usual) really hard to make her point and some of her ideas sound rather artifficial (the most notable example is Urne voi), but it is undeniable that her orchestra's playing is terrific and that she has what is closer to be the best cast in the discography. Natalie Dessay has a certain fondness for overdecorating her repeats and too coquettish an approach for this piece, but sings more exquisitely than all her rivals. No other Piacere can compete with Ann Hallenberg in coloratura abilities. Her voice doesn't always suggest sensuousness, but she sings the best Lascia la spina here and goes for a breathtakingly fast Come nembo. Sonia Prina is the most incisive and expressive Disinganno in recordings and, even if Pavol Breslik has his rough moments, he has no problems with the low tessitura and generally handles well his divisions.

I still miss the emotional sincerity of Giovanni Antonini in his broadcast from Luzern. He is the kind of conductor who goes straight to the heart of the matter and scores his points on not trying to force his points in the composer's score. His Bellezza, Laura Aikin, has some problems with her runs, but is miles ahead of the competition in conveying her "character"'s development. Neither can Véronique Gens challenge Ann Hallenberg in fioriture, but her voice is far more seductive than those from the sopranos featured in the official recording. Cristoph Prégardien's beauty of tone is similarly unchallenged. And Sonia Prina is always faultless in Handel. I still would like the Opernhaus Zürich to release on DVD their staging of this oratorio, in which Isabel Rey offered a most intelligent account of the part of Bellezza and Marijana Mijanovic was at her best as Disinganno.

Thursday, July 18th 2007

• London and Munich

The reason why I haven't posted for a while is the fact that I had been away in deserved vacation in Europe. I have accepted the invitation of dear friends in London and had a great time there. It was my first visit to the Royal Opera House, which proved to be one of the best theatres of this kind I have ever visited. The facilities are excellent, the staff is extremely helpful and polite, the acoustics are great - it is indeed a beautiful theatre. The CD stores are also great - HMV in Oxford Street made me remember of the good old days of Lincoln Center's Tower Records in New York and the second-hand CD stores in Notting Hill are really worth while the detour. Thanks to Joelle, I have also visited a wonderful charming Chinese restaurant in Gerrard Street called Haozhan (great food, nice atmosphere and very friendly service) and I cannot forget brunch at Tom's Deli in Westbourne Grove.

The only bad memory from England is the fact that I was duped by a company called Worldticketshop. I STRONGLY ADVICE YOU NEVER TO BUY TICKETS FROM THESE PEOPLE - THEY ARE DISHONEST AND AMATEURISH. I ordered a ticket in February and my credit card was immediately charged. I sent them many e-mails trying to receive information about my seat, but they kept eluding me. Finally I gave them an ultimatum and got as an answer an e-mail the attachment of which was a virus. I threatened to report them to the authorities and at last had some response from them. In any case, they still could not give me any information. In the day previous to my flight to England, I received an e-mail saying that they actually had no ticket to send to me and that they would refund me. As a lawyer, I have to say that this is fraud: this company had advertised they had a ticket to sell, collected payment from me (i.e., they completed the transaction), while they never had the item advertised. I sent them a furious e-mail again and received a message saying "ignore previous e-mail - we do have a ticket and we are sending it to your address in the U.K.". I arrived in London only to discover that no ticket had been sent. I had to call them and got an e-mail with an attachment that consisted of a voucher in the stationery of other company for a ticket for a person whose name was not mine. I took this voucher to the Royal Opera House box office and got a ticket the value of which was 1/7 the value I had paid for it. I have never before seen something like that - Brazil is said to be a less developed country, but I can tell you that no Brazilian company would dare to shamelessly tread over consumer rights like that without fearing legal consequences.

I haven't been in Munich since 2004 and as soon as I emerged from the Odeonsplatz's subway station I couldn't repress a feeling of joy. If paradise looks like a place that makes you happy, I am afraid that my heaven would be just like Ludwigstrasse. I couldn't avoid my sacred (and expensive) pilgrimage to Ludwig Beck and cannot forget to recommend you a wonderful chocolate store in Eisenmanstrasse callled Schokoko. I could also have the wonderful experience of watching the simulcast from the Bayerische Staatsoper's Wagner-Gala at a Max-Josef Platz crowded with silent and concentrated people, hypnotized by Waltraud Meier's utterly believable Sieglinde (has anyone ever sung such an intimate and affectionate Du bist der Lenz as she did that evening?) and Plácido Domingo's still ardent and dulcet Siegmund. When they came outside to receive the applause from us, it was truly a sensational moment.

Comments on my concert, opera and theatre program in London and Munich are to be found below posted according to the date of events. Photos can be found at my multiply homepage.

Friday, July 13th 2007

• Schumann and more Schumann

Although Thomas Quasthoff has flirted with baritone repertoire, the dark resonance of his low register proves he has no mistake in calling himself a bass. He has a fearless approach to top notes, as in Ich grolle nicht, but the truth is his voice acquires a grainy almost rattling sound around the baritone area, which is not entirely pleasant to my ears. But that is a minor detail in the context - what comes to my mind when I think of his Schumann recital at the National Theater is the neverending variety of tone colouring and his undeniable joie de chant.

Dichterliebe is a long cycle and risks to sound neverending in less capable hands. Quasthoff's sweetness of tone in Lieder such as Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen is irresistible, while his animation and word painting in songs such as Die alten bösen Lieder establishes an ideal level of communication with the audience. After his recital, I can understand the reticence of some local reviewers about Magdalena Kozena's Schumann, for example, which did sound flatter in comparison.

The second part of Quasthoff's recital started with a touching and wide-ranging Der arme Peter, a charmingly naive little song cycle, but the famous ballad Belsatzar, sung almost entirely in half tones, lacked some brio. Finally, Liederkreis Op. 24 was sung with immaculate style - but I am afraid he sounded a bit tired at moments. As a result, Dichterliebe would still be the highlight of the concert. His accompanist Justus Zeyen established a wonderful unity of vision with him, offering subtle and varied playing during the Liederabend.

Monday, July 9th 2007.

You're not hardcore unless you stage it hardcore

Because my German is not good enough to follow a whole play in that language, I decided to buy the original English text of Mark Ravenhill's pool (no water), which happened to be the play performed in the Bayerische Staatsschauspiel on my free day in Munich. This was very convenient for my intent of seeing a play in Germany. I have been following the work of so many German directors in opera and felt like watching them "in their own field", so to say. As for Ravenhill, I had seen some scenes on TV from the Brazilian staging of Shopping and Fucking some years ago and that was all.

I have to confess that reading the play hardly was an eye-opener. It seemed to be an interesting study about the old question whether art and the artist are the same, written in a rather innovative manner - no previously defined characters, just lines in which narration and action are intimately intertwined. I do not know how the play was staged in England - but I imagined very limited scenic elements and naturalistic almost Brechtian acting. But German dramaturgs can go really beyond that. What striked me at first is the treatment to the text. I am used to staging of comporary works reverently respective to the text in which directors adopt a rather self-contained way. Director Florian Boesch, however, treated Ravenhill's text as he would have treated Shakespeare or Schiller, in the sense that he proposed his reading of this text. I'll explain myself - instead of trying to cleanse himself of his view in order to reach the core of the author's vision, he rather added his own symbolic universe to to the written text. All I can say is that the experience proved to be - at least for me - illuminating. Boesch's germanic view of Ravenhill's play granted it the universality it could miss in the original version (also, the German translation brought a slightly more sophisticated register of speech to the text).

Pool (no water) is a nasty story about the visit of a group of artistic losers to their former colleague who has become famous and acknowledged and their sadistically vindicative response to an accident she suffers during their staying at her villa. Boesch goes beyond the nastiness and finds the raw cruelty and cynicism of the text - in a way only Germans could do. As conceived by Boesch, the whole staging could be descibred as a destructive allegory of the text. The minimalistic setting is progressively tranformed into an almost infernal chaos - every piece of prop is destroyed, torn apart to shattering effect. Something similar happens to the cast. In the end, they have exposed themselves, either stripped or covered themselves with ridicule, red paint or self-derision - all that performed with clockwork precision. It is indeed amazing the verbal and gestural expressive accuracy of these actors. I do not know if this is the usual standard of theatrical acting in Germany, but I haven't seen that for a while, compared to the kind of "cinematographic" kind of acting seen in the other side of the Atlantic. No offense to Ravenhill - but I would really like to have the opportunity of seeing actors such as Michael von Au, Ulrike Willenbacher, Michael Tregor or Sophie von Kessel in a play by Ibsen or Strindberg, for example.

Sunday, July 8th 2007

Many moments of contentment

Because dramatic timing and the expression of emotions in baroque opera usually do not survive under the scorching light of Romanticism , most stagings of Handel operas adopt a certain cynically comical approach, in which the actions of characters tend to look silly and nonsensical. Hence it is most commendable of Cristof Loy´s staging of Handel´s Alcina for the Bayerische Staatsoper that he has taken his character seriously without eschewing the necessary sense of humour (after all, this is a long opera). It is also characteristic of Loy´s the thorough direction of actors and the elegant settings and costumes. This late aspect is particularly important - one is always bound to expect something a bit larger than life when one goes to the opera.

Fortunately, the director found a cast of engaged singing actors with extraordinary musical and dramatic talents. Anja Harteros certainly displays impressive features - a statuesque figure, majestic bearing, a fiery temper, an extra rich voice flexible enough for Handel´s technical demands and ductile enough to fine down her sizable lyric soprano to floating mezza voce. She succeeded in the test of keeping the interest in the repeats of her long arias and conveyed to perfection the falling from grace of her character, first shown in stylized crinoline dress and finally in camouflage war uniform. A beautiful and intense performance.

The part of Morgana is undeniably high for Verónica Cangemi´s voice. As a result, she could not sparkle enough in her opening aria and in Tornami a vagheggiar. But her sensitive phrasing and showstopping flute-like pianissimi ensured she had the audience on her side.

The Munich audience is famous for its fidelity to singers who regularly perform in their opera house - and that might explain the ovation reserved to Vesselina Kasarova. I hate to produce the dissenting note, but the habit of being treated to such ecstatic applause could be the reason why such a gifted singer indulges to go on singing with appalling problems in her registers. In order to compensate a clueless middle register, she has to resort to ugly adaptations involving a grotesque covering of vowels or a nasal vibratoless chanting. This battle of chest and head voice has two victims - proper Handelian style and pitch. Of course, she is an experienced singer whose ability with fioriture is praiseworthy, but one just need to pick any Ruggero in the discography, be it Berganza, Susan Graham, Della Jones or Alicia Coote, to realize her shortcomings. I cannot help thinking of what someone like Joyce DiDonato, Anna Bonitatibus or Ann Hallenberg would do in such a beautiful cast.

Italian contralto Sonia Prina is an asset to any cast in baroque opera - it is difficult to single out any particular aspect in such a faultless performance. She is also a most engaging and likeable artist on stage. Tenor Benjamin Hurlett, a newcomer to the production, has an ideal voice to this repertoire. His honeyed Un momento di contento compares to the very best. In a boy soprano role, Deborah York is perfectly cast and Sergio Foresti is a stylish Melisso.

I was very positively surprised by Cristopher Moulds´s conducting. He went for exciting and spontaneous tempi in the faster numbers, but knew when to relax and give singers time for expression in the most lyrical arias. His orchestra played with gusto and technical polish. I read that the broadcast from 2005 (conducted by Ivor Bolton, with different male singers) is going to be released by Farao Classics. My memory may deceive me, but tonight's performance seems to me a complete improvement from the one recorded two years ago.

Saturday, July 7th 2007

• Blond ambition

I have the impression that, because Magdalena Kozena is so pretty herself, she makes a point of always going beyond pretty. When I say "beyond", I do not mean that her singing is unlovely. On the contrary, her crystalline mezzo-soprano is a consistent pleasure to the ears. What I mean is that Kozena takes her recitals in all seriousness and tries to dig out hidden niceties in each song. For example, I had never listened to such a frightening and vehement Waldesgespräch. Even in the merrier Eichendroff settings in Schumann's Liederkreis Op. 39, she could find a hidden note of melancholy. In this sense, the occasional comparison with Lucia Popp does make sense, since the sorely missed Slovak soprano was a specialist in putting long known songs in new perspective. Kozena, however, cannot look up to Lucia Popp's in variety of tone colouring - her charming and svelte mezzo tends to come in only one lovely shade. Maybe that is the reason that local reviewers found her Schumann lacking spontaneity and emotional depth. I still find it refreshing to hear her Gundula Janowitz-like austerity in Lieder interpretation, but I would agree that Schubert´s more immediate sense of story-telling would be more appropriate than Schumann to Kozena's voice.

Beautiful as her Schumann was, I must confess that her rendition of Ravel's Histoires Naturelles was the highlight of this Liederabend. In her clear French, she told these funny endearing stories with a child's wide-eyed enthusiasm and the variety of a true diseuse. She should consider recording them. In her effort to avoid the obvious choices, she passed the usual suspects in Rachmaninov's repertoire and produced gripping renditions of songs rarely treated to such a focused and instrumental voice. Finally, she let her hair down to the manner born in Bartok's Village Scenes, showing that blondness can perfectly live with Bohemian verve. As encores, she offered her audience Fauré's Rêve d´amour, sung with classical elegance and an elegiac performance of Schumann's Mein schöner Stern and a beautifully shaded Der Nussbaum. Yefim Bronfman's large-scale pianism could hardly be called "accompaniment". As a result, he felt more at ease once the Schumann part of the program was over. He produced beautiful effects for Ravel, but Rachmaninov and Bartok really gave him the opportunity to unravel the whole scope of his resources.

Friday, July 6th 2007

• Donizetti in tailleurs and high heels

Thanks to the advocacy of Edita Gruberová, the Bayerische Staatsoper has reserved a special place for bel canto operas in its seasons - and judging from what I witnessed this evening, admirers of Donizetti operas have something to be thankful for. Never before had I experienced the charm of Donizetti's writing for the orchestra as intensely as this evening in Munich. Conducted by Friedrich Haider, who happens to be someone who does not trifle with this repertoire, the hall was filled with rich, refulgent string sounds, unbelievably precise in passagework and perfectly blended with woodwind. Some may find that such an approach would be a disadvantage to singers - that was not the case. Allowed to dialogue with solo instruments in concertante manner, inscribed in the framework of beautiful orchestral sound, the cast could find a deepened level of expression.

Cristof Loy's production is, of course, the same featured on DVD with more or less the same cast. As on video, Loy found updating as an enlightening way of focusing the political aspects of the plot. One is entitled to feel suspicious, but the efficient direction of actors makes it rather believable. It is, of course, Gruberová's show, but she surrenders entirely to the concept. Having a lifelong experience with the traditional approach - red wig and tons of pearls - scaling down the clichéd "Elizabeth I"-act to the psychological days in which we're living was not a stretch for her.

When it comes to the vocal aspects of her performance, one is tempted to speak of what an achievement this is for a 60-year-old singer, but Gruberová does not need that. Although her voice had seen more supernaturally impressive days, she can still boast to have resources almost no one possesses. Unfortunately, a strong low register has never been among her natural gifts. And Donizetti may be very demanding in this aspect. In her entrance aria, the search for low notes, for example, seemed to have unbalanced the production of her voice - all the mannerisms her detractors like to point out were there - scooping, fussying with tempo and slight behind-the-beat coloratura. During the evening, she would found her optimal level, though, managing to focus most of her plunges to chest register. The other low notes were dealt with with "acting with the voice". She seemed to be willing to compensate this with an unending supply of her hallmark qualities, such as immaterial high pianissimo, effortless divisions and forceful in alts. The closing scene is a Gruberová classic - no one has ever gone so deep into the character's mind and heart as she does. It has been - and it still is -one of her supreme achievements.

The replacement of the leading tenor and baritone on the video for two Italians has also proved most positive. Massimiliano Pisapia has a most beautiful and natural tenor and phrases in the most gracious and stylish manner. It is a pity that he feels tempted to produce his high notes excessively covered. This is the only problem standing between him and complete success. Paolo Gavanelli is always an intense stage presence. His first aria was sung with outstanding purity of style and control of line. Later his tendency to produce woolly top notes would rob a bit from the nobility of his phrasing. Jeanne Piland's mezzo is pleasant to the ears and she is an engaged actress, but her voice soon started to develop a flutter and ended on sounding tired. The minor roles - even the very small ones - were cast from strength. I wonder if Donizetti himself listened to his Roberto Devereux as scrumptiously performed as we did tonight in Munich.

Thursday, July 5th 2007

• Spicy, but uninspiring

The fact that the visual imagery proposed by designer Marja Björnsson in this 2002 production by Francesca Zambello - frankly anachronical in its disparaged style of costumes and sceneries - is ultimately unconvincing could be the reason why the intendant decided to give it a twist by selling the show as a "feast to the eyes both to ladies and a gentlemen" (I swear this sounds more appealing in French when this women said it to a friend next to me while entering the theatre).

What is beyond doubt is that the Royal Opera House has succeded in its purpose of catching the attention of new audiences - Lorenzo da Ponte's jokes rarely missed the mark and the cast would more often than not felt inclined to overact in order to boost laugh in a way that would have been splendid if it not tampered with Mozart's music. Although Paul Syrus proved to know his Mozart, the house band did not feel inclined to respond to his athletic yet not overfast approach. The sound picture was restricted, ensemble often imprecise and articulation blurred. Laughs had an easy advantage on them.

Although Anna Netrebko was supposed to be a treat to the eyes, she proved to be also a treat to the ears, even announced to be indisposed. That could be felt in her reluctance to sing softly and a certain caution with high notes. That did not prevent her, however, from pulling out a dramatic and full-toned Or sai chi l'onore, guilt, regret and revolt finely balanced. Although she felt she was unable to go on after the intermission, I could bet she would still be the highlight of this performance in case she had decided to keep singing. Her replacement, Russian soprano Marina Poplavskaya does have a forceful flexible voice, but not the polish of a Mozartian singer. She is scheduled to sing Elisabetta in Verdi's Don Carlo soon - she should work on her mezza voce before that.

Ana María Martínez does have the temper for Donna Elvira, but cannot disguise the fact she cheated with her high notes during the whole performance. When a young soprano has problems with a and b flat, something really wrong must be going on. After a shaky start, Sally Fox managed to produce a teazing lovely Zerlina in spite of a technique more proper to Bach cantatas than to Mozart. I have to say Robert Murray's grainy tone prone to curdling in high notes is not to my liking, but he sang both his arias well. Erwin Schrott's long experience with the role of Don Giovanni is evident. His mastery of all dramatic aspects - especially his intelligent use of recitatives. The French would say he is bien dans sa peau as a seducer, as a rogue and as a nobleman. Sometimes he lets himself go too much and one is inclined to find the performance narcissistic but that is soon dispelled by the singer's irresistible charisma. His bass-baritone is also in mint condition. The fact that Leporello has less rich a voice than his master's is always a good dramatic point, but Kyle Ketelsen is more a baritone than a bass-baritone and the low tessitura really seemed uncomfortable for him. He was not fazed by that and sustained the challenge of interacting, establishing a splendid partnership with Schrott. Matthew Rose was a strong-voiced likeable Masetto and, in spite of the occasional rusty moments, Robert Lloyd was an efficient Commendatore.

Wednesday, July 4th 2007

Vintage Pinter in a fresh approach

Roger Michell's staging of Harold Pinter's 1978 play is the perfect translation of Pinter's dry playwriting style. Scenic elements are reduced to the minimum necessary and the different settings are cleverly told from each other with repositioning of props. Michell also had a great cast and it seems he has taken advantage of that to work on a very rigid palette of theatrical postures. This gives great strength to their every utterance and is particularly helpful to show the audience the development of the characters' attitude in a story told backwards.

Although the three actors are outstanding, I must single out Dervla Kirwan, a magnetic presence on stage. This is an actress who knows how to radiate energy even when still or silent - a rare talent. Toby Stephens and Samuel West are aptly contrasted . While the former explores a more extrovert and vocally varied approach, the latter goes for a more restrained attitude - both do it to the manner born. A great show.

Tuesday, July 3rd 2007

• Masterly Janacek

Charles Mackerras does not need revues - the audience felt honoured for having the opportunity of listening to Janacek's Katja Kabanova conducted by such a widely acknowledged specialist. Although the Royal Opera House band cannot dream to compete with the orchestra in the conductor's studio recording, the Vienna Philharmonic, in rich, crystalline and flexible sounds, the great Australian conductor extracted the best from them - and the results were more than commendable. All orchestral effects were beautifully pulled out and the theatre was often bathed in exquisite orchestral sonorities. Also, Trevor Nunn is an experienced opera director and the cast seemed at ease with his sensible scenic solutions. I have found Marja Björnsson's expressionistic settings striking and beautiful, but I was not entirely satisfied with having indoors scenes played outdoors, when the idea of claustrophobia is central to the libretto.The setting for the Katja's public confession of adultery was particularly misguided. This is supposed to happen during a rainstorm, but everybody looks really dry while lighting candles and painting icons in open air unsheltered from the bad weather. Katja herself is seen in a white dress and I ask you - who would go out in a rainstorm in the countryside in light colours? When the action is based on a naturalistic play called "The Storm", details like that should deserve some consideration.

In the title role, Janice Watson displays a formidable sizeable voice with forceful top notes, a pleasant medium and rich, low notes. She can more or less fine down her soprano to piano, but it rarely floats. However, the sound tends to be really metallic. It works well for Katja, but I cannot imagine her singing other kind of repertoire in which this could be an advantage. As Katja, I repeat, she was tremendous. She is a beautiful woman, a very believable actress with reserves of stamina and offered a gripping performance.

Taking the role of the Kabanicha, Felicity Palmer confirmed what an immense artist she is - a powerful stage presence and an irresistible voice - forward, colorful and perfectly focused. She could even find a humane note to her role, bringing the obsessive motherly love to the core of her performance.

Kurt Streit has an amazingly spontaneous voice - bright, easy and homogeneous. His Boris did not not displayed Petr Dvorsky's Italianate alpha male attitude - and that only helped to make Katja's infatuation for him more touching.

Reduced to character roles such as Tichon, Chris Merritt still brings some satisfaction in his big, rather dark tenor. It is a difficult role for an actor, and he could find some truth it. Toby Spence was s great Kudrjas - a warm pleasant strong voice and a very likeable personality. Oleg Bryak (Dikoj) has a huge dark voice - and I suppose the off-pitch effects are part of the Slavonic kit of expressive resources. Finally, Liora Grondikaite (Varvara) has a very rich and vibrant mezzo and a lovely stage presence.

Monday, July 2nd 2007

 

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