Tuesday 31 December 2013

The Best and the Worst of 2013

Following in the footsteps of so many bloggers, tweeters and opera critics I offer my own thoughts on the highs and lows of the live performances I attended in the year 2013.  I've restricted myself to five categories - as inspired by Opera Britannia's own review of the year.

Outstanding New Production




Amongst some lean pickings, my very first experience of a staged Parsifal won by a long margin. Apparently I may be going against the grain, but for a Parsifal virgin such as I, this was the ideal production to start with. It wasn't perfect by any means...but then I don't seek perfection in live performances.  Amongst the many glories was Gerald Finley as Amfortas, surely one of the greatest singing actors we currently have.

Best Revival



Of course it must be Don Carlo -  hardly surprising I hear you cry.  But quite apart from my predilection for Jonas Kaufmann, I must admit that Don Carlo is rapidly becoming my favourite Verdi opera. This revival, with a top notch cast was a real treat - if only the production itself was a little more inspiring but that is a minor cavil when you have such superb musical values on display.


Best Male Performance




All things considered this has to be Gerald Finley for his amazing performance as Amfortas in Parsifal. Simply stunning.  Close contenders were Erwin Schrott in Les Vepres Siciliennes (almost clinched by the infamous black dress) and Jonas Kaufmann in Don Carlo.

Best Female Performance




Another difficult choice but in the end I was so blown away by Lise Lindstrom's performance as Turandot that she emerged as the outright winner.  While I found the production itself a little disappointing (surely time for a new one?) she took the role by the throat and made her house debut in very fine style indeed.  I can't wait until I get the chance to see her again.

Honourable mention must go to Joyce di Donato in La Donna del Lago - again while I didn't love the production, she could do no wrong in my eyes.

Biggest Disappointment


Oh dear - where to start?  I suppose my biggest disappointments (apart from Anja Harteros cancellations) have been with most of the new productions I have seen at ROH - especially Nabucco and Eugene Onegin. Uninspiring, dreary and sometimes just plain weird, I have had some of my most disappointing evenings when attending a new production - with the honourable exception of the new Parsifal and I do hope that is an encouraging start to the 2013-14 rosta of new productions.  I'm certainly looking forward to Don Giovanni, Manon Lescaut and Maria Stuarda and Die Frau ohne Schatten but only time will tell if there has been an improvement.

So there it is - my highlights and lowlights of 2013.  It only remains for me to wish you a very Happy New Year and to wish you happy opera-going wherever you may be.



Sunday 1 December 2013

Parsifal, Wagner and other assorted ramblings...

Its been a while since my last blog post...mainly due to real life getting in the way of opera-going but also a slow down in my operatic activity at ROH. My last excursion was to see my first Wozzeck with Karita Mattila and Simon Keenleyside.  It was a disturbing but yet invigorating experience but one that I didn't feel remotely qualified to blog about except to say that I want to see it again.  Its the sort of peice you need to see more than once before commenting on!

I'm going to apologise in advance about the rambling nature of this post which has been provoked by my first experience of a fully staged Parsifal at the ROH. Let me make this clear - this is absolutely not a review of the production.  For even though the first night has come and gone, the 'performance' I saw was in fact the final rehearsal and the ROH have asked me nicely not to blog about it...and on reflection they are probably right.  Although nice to know that my blog is being read in high places.


I had absolutely not intended to see this new production at all. Regular readers and Twitter followers will know that I'm not exactly the world's biggest Wagner fan although I have been making a distinct effort in this anniversary year - especially as there were so many riches on offer at this years BBC Proms.  But still, even after some great concert versions at the Albert Hall, I felt frustrated that I still didn't really 'get' Wagner in the way that I do Verdi or even Puccini.

So it was in the spirit of adventure that I snapped up a last minute rehearsal ticket to Parsifal and sallied forth. While not exactly reviewing the detail of what I saw on stage, I can say that I was utterly overwhelmed, intrigued and finally won over by the 'evil genius' that is Wagner.  I will explain 'evil genius' in a while but my reaction to this opera really puzzled and intrigued me.  What was it about this particular work that finally won me over? After all this is not an easy work....surely Lohengrin and Tannhauser are more accessible? Certainly it terms of length (5 and half hours including intervals) its the sort of thing that usually has me running for the exit.  And yet....

And yet this is where Wagner's evil genius kicks in.  There is something in the music of this work, in the story and in the absolute totality that reaches out and resonates with audience if only they let it.  Let me explain. Normally when I go to the opera I go for the emotional hit rather than the intellectual high, although both is good of course.  But if I don't get the emotional impact of a piece then you've lost me and I come away disappointed.  And most of the time the emotional high comes from a specific situation i.e. tragic love story gone wrong, combined with sublime music etc..  Verdi, Puccini et al are masters of this, and in years of opera going/listening I more or less know exactly where my own personal 'lump in the throat' moments occur, for example, Mimi's death, 'Amami Alfredo' in Traviata, end of Otello, etc etc.  Big emotional wallop moments.

Now this is where the evil genius of Wagner kicks in for me.  For he doesn't really do those obvious tear-jerking moments in opera.  So why did I find myself with tears running down my cheeks in the second act of Parsifal?  It did catch me rather by surprise as there was nothing really obvious going on in the music or on stage that I thought would warrant such a reaction.  And yet I believe that in this opera Wagner and his music just suck you in, make you slow down and give in...and that whatever is uppermost in your mind is given voice.  Sorry if that sounds bizarre and sentimental but that is the only explanation I have.  I finally figured out that what had triggered my emotional reaction was the scene with  Kundry talking about Parsifal's mother.  I lost my own mother to cancer this time last year but I wasn't really aware of that being a trigger until the tears were running down my face.  Like I said, 'evil genius'.

Now that the official first night of this production has been and gone, I'm also intrigued by the many and varied reactions to it, and it got me to thinking about how we experience live performance, what we compare it to and how we critically appraise it...not only for those who blog or those get paid to critique for a living, but just the audience in general.  Most of the time I like to pride myself that I don't pre-judge a performance and take each new or old production on its own merits.  But I now ask myself....is that really possible?

I came to this Parsifal with no previous preconceptions of performance history or even vocal history.  The only experience I've had is a few YouTube clips with Jonas Kaufmann and half of a concert performance at the Proms this year....and I really didn't like it enough to stick around for the second half.  So I was a fairly blank canvas.  Now with the best will in the world, if you are turning up for your 20th performance of Boheme or Traviata, it is very difficult NOT to compare with previous singers or productions, and this does colour your perception of what you are seeing on stage TODAY!.  For me, seeing my first staged Parsifal was almost like seeing a brand new opera - I had no history, no idea of what had gone in the past, but only a total involvement in what was happening on stage, right here, right now.  It was thrilling.

And so if nothing else, this Parsifal has given me a determination to experience opera differently if at all possible, to mentally wipe clean those memories of vocal and production's gone by, and just experience the performance in the here and now.  It might still be a disappointment or it might be a triumph, but at least I hope I will be judging it on its own merits.

And a final word about this particular production - please go see it, the cast are wonderful, committed and thrilling and the production, even if it doesn't succeed on all levels, is certainly one that will get the brain ticking.  I loved it.







Friday 18 October 2013

Brilliantly Bonkers - Les Vêpres Siciliennes – First Night, Royal Opera House, 17th October 2013

I don’t normally do first nights.  While the great and the good (and the not so good) like to see and be seen, and critics of course need to be first off the block to publish their thoughts, by and large I much prefer to wait and let the performance ‘bed in’ first.  I already had a ticket booked for mid-run so what on earth made me run to the box office to secure another?

Well, many things as it happens, but primarily the announcement that the first three performances (at least) were to be sung by Lianna Haroutounian due to the indisposition of Marina Poplavskya.  I was lucky enough to catch Lianna singing Elisabetta in Don Carlos (standing in for another indisposed soprano) last year and was impressed by secure, rich-toned voice and the sensitive acting.  A first class Verdi soprano in the making.  Not willing to take a gamble on Ms Poplavskya’s non-return (and I’d quite like to hear her too) I decided to go for a first night ticket.  I managed to bag one of my favourite stalls circle bench-seats  and so I had a nice clear view of most of the proceedings.

As has been written about ad-infinitum elsewhere, Les Vepres Siciliennes is one of Verdi’s neglected masterpieces and even more rarely performed in the original French.  Another good reason to don the glad rags and head off to Covent Garden for the unreasonably (but necessary) early start of 6pm.  I also spotted a few familiar faces amongst the crowds; Norma Major, David Mellor, Mark Elder and Kasper Holten.

So it was with a really keen sense of anticipation that I finally settled into my seat and waited for the overture to begin and the curtain to rise.

Things did not start well – for me at least. 


One of my pet peeves is having some sort of dumb show on stage during overtures, as though the director cannot trust the audience to let the music do the explaining or that he cannot abide music having primacy over drama perhaps? For whatever reason a dumb-show we were treated to.  Which quickly brings me to my second pet peeve and that is the gratuitous depiction of rape on the opera stage – and this all before the overture was even finished.  But for some strange reason I was in a forgiving mood and I decided to give Stefan Herheim a pass for both transgressions just this once.  Given the rarity with which this opera is performed, a little back story for those in the audience who had come rushing in straight from work did not go amiss.

Ah yes, Stefan Herheim, one of the 'enfant terribles' of the operatic ‘regie-theatre’ world.  The audience must have been half-afraid, half-hoping that some shocking piece of lèse-majesté would be let loose upon the stage.  I for one was just hoping for excellent music making and hopefully a coherent piece of story-telling.  Well I'm happy to report that I certainly got my first wish – and nearly all of my second.

If you did not happen to know that the original opera was set in the 13th century  then on the surface it looked as traditional as they come.  But the action had been transposed to the time of the opera’s composition – a not entirely original idea it has to be said, but the sets and costumes were gorgeous indeed.  Also included was the ‘stage with in a stage’ concept, this time the stage was the Paris opera house where this opera first debuted. Apparently all of this was supposed to illustrate the ‘rape of art’.  I'm not sure that it entirely succeeded but it didn't interfere with the actual story being played out in music and words so I went with it.  The final act is where Herheim lost me completely, but so completely and utterly bonkers was it, that really you just couldn't help smiling.

If the production values were of the highest, then so was most of the singing.  The four cast principles were pretty evenly matched with perhaps Michael Volle standing out as a dramatically and vocally superb de Montfort.  Erwin Schrott was a hoot as an especially effete but essentially dangerous Procida – here played as a Ballet Master. I though that the chemistry with Lianna Haroutounian was especially close.  Lianna started off well with gorgeous dark-toned and luscious singing but to my ears at least, she audibly tired towards the end  - which is unfortunately where Verdi placed her big aria of the night.  Trills and coloratura were approximate in ‘Merci jeunes amies’  but it was never unmusical.  I was trying to think who would be up to the task of this role today and must admit I can’t really think of anyone – not even Anja Harteros who seems to be the pre-eminent Verdi soprano of today.  However I really enjoyed Lianna’s singing and I hope the Royal Opera has signed her up in her own right, rather than as a replacement for ailing sopranos.


Now, anyone who knows me, or reads this blog, will know that my favourite voice type is tenor.  I have heard Bryn Hymel before in Les Troyens where he stepped in for Jonas Kaufmann and did a very competent job indeed.  And while he did another sterling job here (in a very demanding role) I still can’t say that I enjoyed his singing.  There’s nothing wrong with it, indeed there is much to admire, including his facility in the upper ranges of the tenor voice.  It is simply that the basic tone doesn't really appeal to me.  There’s a lack of ‘glamour’ in the voice – vocal glamour I hasten to add, not personal.  Indeed Mr Hymel is a good looking chap who obviously knows his way around the stage and is a decent actor to boot.  But I just didn't ‘feel’ it – but that only goes to show that reaction to voices is a very individual thing.

So all in all, a very enjoyable night indeed.  It was a treat to hear such good singing in an all too rare performance of a Verdi opera.  Tony Pappano was of course the ultimate star of the show, leading the orchestra in a sensitive but thrilling rendition of the score.

The production, far from being outlandish and unmusical (as some might have feared) was sure-footed, thought provoking and entirely at one with the music.  The production team was certainly greeted with enthusiasm at curtain-call time, which has not always been the case with new productions at ROH recently.  There was really nothing here to scare the children as it were (unless you count Erwin Schrott in a frock), which is why I suspect the audience lapped it up.

In fact at times it all seemed a bit too familiar.  There was a hint of Ballo in Maschera in the ball scene (musically as well as scenically) and I was struck by a resemblance in parts to the 1982 Ernani at La Scala with Domingo.  And speaking of Ernani, now what wouldn’t I give to see a new production of that at Covent Garden?

But in the meantime, I would heartily recommend that if you possibly can, go see this.  You won’t regret it.





Sunday 6 October 2013

Puccini's Golden Girl - Fancuilla del West, Vienna 5 October 2013

La Fancuilla del West (to give the opera its full title) or 'The Girl of the West' in English, is not the opera that springs most readily to mind when you think of Puccini - Tosca, Boheme and Turandot are probably better known by the general public and even if you don't know the opera you could probably reel off a few of the better known arias - tiny hands, fine days and brightly shining stars spring to mind.  But arias from Fancuilla don't readily spring to mind.   And that's a shame because even though the opera is more through-composed that Puccini's earlier works, there are still musical highlights - mainly for the tenor it has to be said.

Perhaps the 'Cowboys and Indians' American West setting is also off putting?  But Puccini was always attracted to the exotic and what could be more exotic than a love story set in the American Wild West at the time of the Gold Rush?  At least that's where the playwright David Belasco set his original story and where Puccini's librettists also set their story.  Not where this production is set but more of that later.

The story itself is relatively simple, boy wanders into bar in a mining town, where he meets girl and they fall in love, despite interference from the local sheriff - your classic love triangle.  However, what the girl doesn't know is that her new love is in fact the leader of a band of renegades who rob and steal from the local community. When she finds out, she throws him out, he is shot by the sheriff's posse but is hidden by Minnie (the girl). When he is found, still bleeding and wounded, by the sheriff, a high stakes poker game takes place - winner gets the bandit (Dick Johnson or Ramerrez).  As you may guess, Minnie wins her bandit and gets to nurse him back to health.

But that's not the end, for as soon as he leaves the sanctuary of Minnie's cabin, he is set upon and captured and about to be strung up for his crimes (but not until he's sung a gorgeous aria naturally).  Minnie rides in and puts a stop to all that nonsense, reminding the assorted miners of their basic humanity until they agree that they won't kill him.  Minnie and Ramerrez ride off into the sunset together. An operatic happy ending? Possibly.



As might be expected, Vienna's new production has very little of the Wild West about it.  Its still a mining community in the US, although given Jake Wallace's audio gig on cassette player, I'm guessing at some time in the 1960's.  All of the miners are dressed in overalls so it loses a lot of cowboy theme and the Act 1 set consists of Minnie's diner surrounded by a steel container town. It actually works quite well providing you ignore some of the ambiguities that always happen when you update opera.  The Act 1 plot basically consists of a lot of back story and set up until a) the soprano arrives and then b) the tenor arrives.  So there are no 'big' tunes, but instead of that we get vivid orchestration and (hopefully) some fine work from the male comprimario singers.

Act 2 takes place in Minnie's cabin and its here that things get more interesting - both dramatically and musically.  Minnie brushes up quite nicely for her new beau and they chatter about this and that and try to ignore their growing attraction - well Minnie tries to ignore, I think Dick is all for it.  On dismissal of Minnie's house-help (here not played in Native American-Indian fashion, but is played pregnant), kissing and rolling around on the floor ensues.  Well, if it was Jonas Kaufmann you would wouldn't you?  



Alas, Dick/Ramerrez thinks better of it and tries to leave but is now stranded by a snow storm.  Minnie (as you might suppose) is not entirely disturbed by this turn of events and they settle down for the night - in separate beds. Damn!  This sweet interlude is only interrupted by the sheriff and his gang turning up on the hunt for Ramerrez - thus unmasking Dick Johnson and Ramerrez as one and the same.  Minnie doesn't give him up to the sheriff at this point but seemingly cannot forgive him for being a lying, cheating bastard!  You go girl.  Personally I think he's just a mixed up guy needing the love of a good woman but that's just me.

All this changes however when he is shot and she is then willing to lie and cheat herself to keep him from the clutches of the sheriff.   They play poker with Ramerrez as the prize.  (I'd play!).  Minnie cheats at cards and she gets to keep her man - for now at least.

Act 3 is short and sweet and basically consists of Dick/Ramerrez being captured, nearly hung out to dry and then Minnie riding to the rescue just in the nick of time.

Apart from updating and not so many cowboys (and no Indians), the story was played pretty much straight in this new production.  Jonas Kaufmann looked very fetching in leather ensemble, Nina Stemme looked less so in unflattering dungarees and red hair.  Her wardrobe did improve marginally for the second act but flattering it was not.  Luckily both were in fine vocal form.  This is not Ms Stemme's first stab at Minnie and the experience showed.  Its a demanding role with very little pay-off in terms of having a belt it out aria - none here for the soprano alas.  But in a succession of duets and quasi-conversations she embodied the character of the good-hearted innocent Minnie and why a man like Johnson/Ramerrez might have been attracted to her.

Jonas Kaufmann's role début as Dick Johnson once again illustrated his winning way with Italian opera but also his understanding of Puccinian line and phrasing.  The high notes were ringing and his two allotted arias gorgeously sung and acted.  As a first outing I thought it was good and I do hope he keeps it in his repertory to develop further.

Tomasz Konieczny played the sheriff Jack Rance as some sub-par Scarpia, a cardboard cut-out villain with very few redeeming features.  That's not how I read the character in the opera but I presume that's how he was instructed to play it. Alas, the voice was also not pretty and sounded pretty strangulated and effortful in places.

The opera ends with Minnie and Dick climbing into a rainbow coloured balloon and sailing off to a new life. Why? Beats me.  I'm sure there's some intelligent and deeply thought out reason by the director Marco Arturo Marelli, but nothing that had gone on previously pointed to this somewhat surreal exit.  Or maybe he just likes coloured balloons. 

But all in all this is a very enjoyable production and if you do get a chance to see it I don't think you'll be disappointed.






Sunday 29 September 2013

Mazes of the Mind - Fidelio, English National Opera, 27th September 2013

I don't go to see opera at ENO very often it has to be said.  This is nothing to do with their tendency to a somewhat more challenging directorial approach than the ROH.  I like to think I'm open-minded and take each production on its own merits.  No, my reluctance is usually to do with the fact that I do prefer my opera in the original language i.e. the language of the original libretto. Italian opera especially tends to sound frankly more than a little strange and grating to the ear when translated into English.  So I tend to avoid the mainstream repertory that I know well and visit ENO for works that I don't know quite so well - or that have a tradition for being translated into English, such as the upcoming Die Fledermaus.

For me Fidelio just about comes under that criteria.  I don't understand German in the way I do Italian/French and I've only seen Fidelio once - and that was on DVD.  I do know Florestan's aria 'Gott! Welch dunkel hier' reasonably well...but more of that later. So a visit to see this was definitely on the agenda.  What tipped the balance for me was ENO's introduction of their Secret Seat scheme, where you pay £20 up front with no idea of where you will be seated until a couple of days before the performance when your seat will be confirmed.  Suitably intrigued and up for a gamble I booked 'secret seats' for Fidelio, Die Fledermaus and Peter Grimes.  Thankfully in the case of Fidelio, the gamble paid off very nicely with a front row seat in the Dress Circle - a ticket normally costing £94!  Not bad.  However looking around the auditorium I couldn't help but notice an abundance of empty seats.  This is a shame and I do hope ENO is not about to go the way of New York City Opera who seem to be on their last legs.


The production by Calixto Bieito is new to ENO, although will be familiar to international opera goers and YouTube fans as it was premièred in Munich in 2010.  I'll say upfront that I haven't watched any of the available clips as none seem to come with English subtitles, and given my unfamiliarity with the work, I do need them.  So, I came to this performance as fresh as I could and with no preconceptions other than knowing the basic outline of the story.

I have to say that I found the standing set (pictured above) stunning.  The picture doesn't really do it justice and I also have to give kudos to the lighting designer Tim Mitchell for making what could have been a stark and ugly set, quite beautiful at times.

Apart from occasionally clambering around the set, the singers were mostly confined in front of the mad-made monolith but they made the most of the restrictions.  I must admit that if I was coming to this completely ignorant of the story, I would probably have no idea what was happening - and to me that is a failure.  I shouldn't need to have to read essays by the director before I watch a piece of theatre - they should be able to convey the story effectively without me having to refer to the programme to see what on earth they are getting at.  There is also much mention of a 'fresh vision' and 'challenging assumptions' which is all very well if you are dealing with people who know the opera inside out and are open to being challenged whilst still understanding the original.  But what if you are dealing with people (like me) who have very little previous knowledge of the opera and are therefore left totally confused by this production.

Ironically I felt that this did work as a piece of theatre, but not as an opera - the two felt quite disconnected.  Let me explain a little.  For me, the ideal opera performance is one where acting and singing combine to produce an almost seamless work - one where you almost don't notice the acting or the singing as separate entities.  In my experience that fusion very rarely happens and the balance nearly always tips to one side or the other - either the music/singing wins out, or the acting/theatrical aspects do.  I have been lucky enough to witness those rare performances where you almost forget that someone is singing, so wrapped up in the drama have I been.  But those are rare exceptions - and this performance came no where close alas.

The most annoying part of the performance came with the arrival of Don Fernando, bizarrely costumed here in full wig and 17/18 Century get up - as opposed to the rest of the cast in current workaday clothes.  Why?  I would almost have preferred the Munich version where he was some sort of Joker figure.  And then of course he goes and shoots Florestan - which I admit came as a bit of a surprise.  The first word of out my mouth was  'b........'  I'll leave you do deduct what that might have been. It just didn't work for me as played here.    I have subsequently looked up the Munich version to see how they played it and frankly it was much better done, the reactions of the singer playing Don Fernando 'sold' the idea - but not in the ENO version I'm afraid.

I'd be interested to know if Bieto directed this revival and approved of the tweaks to the original. Subsequent viewing of clips of the Munich original has revealed some significant differences in addition to the one noted above.

As to the singing, I would say that overall it was of a very high standard given the challenges of some very physical aspects to the production.  Stuart Skelton was impressive as Florestan and his first utterance of 'God, the darkest hour' was in no way inferior to a Certain Other Tenor's outstanding version.  I did feel however, that he tired a little towards the end.  Beethoven's challenging writing no doubt, but also a very hectic schedule alternating Fidelio and Peter Grimes - neither easy sings. But Skelton has a beautiful strong voice and I'm looking forward to his performance in the ENO Peter Grimes in February.

Emma Bell as Fidelio/Leonore was his equal although I found her lower register less reliable and beautiful than her steely top where I felt she came into her own.  Very nicely acted too if not entirely convincing as a bloke.

So, for me a game of two halves.  The music and singing was beautiful but the production failed for me personally in that I didn't get the emotional 'punch' that I'm always looking for in opera.  However, what it has done is made me more eager to experience another production of Fidelio - there are so many interpretations of this story that could be done, both traditional and non-traditional.  I hope I get to see one soon.











Sunday 8 September 2013

Turandot Dress Rehearsal - Royal Opera House 7th September 2013

And we're back!  After a brief summer hiatus the 2013-14 season at the Royal Opera House kicks off with Puccini's Turandot and I managed to snag a ticket to the general dress rehearsal on Saturday.



This is only my second experience of attending a dress rehearsal but I'm starting to pinpoint the subtle differences between this and a performance. Of course its less informal - the orchestra and conductor are dressed casually, the house isn't packed to capacity and there are lots of official photographers clicking away.  The audience are also dressed casually for the main, although I've never really noticed a dress code even on normal performances and I tend to dress as the mood takes me.  But for me the real difference is the mix of people in the audience, and a real willingness to engage your neighbour in conversation.  I found myself sitting next to a couple whose young son was in the chorus.  They had never been to the opera house before and had never seen or heard Turandot before and it was lovely to chat at the intervals about their growing enthusiasm and at the end my neighbour was converted stating that she could quite happily watch it all again.

Now, being a dress rehearsal I don't really want to go into too much detail about the singers, even though they were singing out full voice and gave every evidence of treating this as an actual performance.  I guess one of main reasons for this revival could be the thrilling soprano of Lise Lindstrom.  Turandot doesn't actually sing until the beginning of the second act but boy was that worth waiting for.  It's not the hugest voice but it is totally secure in the upper reaches and has a thrilling steely tone that this part demands. I've heard other Turandot's on stage, CD and DVD but when I heard Ms Lindstrom sing I knew this was the singer I'd been waiting for. When she sings you immediately know that this part holds no terrors for her and you can sit back and relax and enjoy.

While Ms Lindstrom was outstanding, the other singers in the cast were by no means shabby. Marco Berti as Calaf is a 'typical' Italian tenor in both good and bad ways.  He is a 'strapping lad' as they say in my parts and his acting looked to be pretty rudimentary but I've seen worse and the fact that his voice was firing on all cylinders was compensation enough in this part.  He certainly held his own against Ms Lindstrom in the all important confrontation scenes. This is the first time I've heard him sing so I'm no expert but I think this may be a good part for him, requiring less subtlety than perhaps some other roles.

Eri Nakamura as Liu almost stole the show and was certainly the audience favourite when she took her bows at the end.

My only disappointment was the production itself. This is a revival of a now veteran production by Andrei Serban  first staged in 1984 and to be honest its beginning to show its age.  I last saw this production in 1997 (Grace Bumbry as Turandot) and it now seems to be a shadow of its former self.  I'm not sure if its the direction (or lack of) or just that the production is old and needs replacing but there is definitely something missing, a sense of drama, danger....something.  In a way it resembles a product of its times - gaudy and garish but slightly empty at the centre.

Which makes it even more surprising that (according to the cast sheet given out) this set of performances is being filmed for DVD release in Spring 2014!  In my honest opinion, perhaps a little late in the day to be recording a 30 year old production for release on DVD without the benefit of any 'star' singers.  Lise Lindstrom is excellent but I'm not sure how many DVD's would be sold on her name alone.

Still, there is much here to enjoy and I'd certainly recommend it for the singing alone and of course for Puccini's gorgeous music.

Friday 2 August 2013

Remembrance of Things Past - End of Season Review

Looking back over my 2012-13 season of opera, concerts and theatre I can only count myself lucky to have access to some truly great theatre in London.  As this blog is mainly operatic in nature and dedicated to a certain opera house, I'm going to concentrate on opera I have seen at the Royal Opera House from September 2012 to July 2013 - and hand out a few awards in the process.  But to give you an idea of which opera I'm judging, this is what I managed to see at Covent Garden this season:

Albert Herring (not strictly ROH but staged by ETO at the Linbury)
The Minotaur
Eugene Onegin (new production)
Written on Skin (new production)
La Boheme
Tosca (twice plus a rehearsal)
Nabucco (new production)
Die Zauberflote (twice)
Don Carlo (twice)
La Donna del Lago (new production)
Gloriana (new production)
La Rondine

So, not included in my considerations are the Ring Cycle which kicked off the season (still a bit of a Wagner-phobe...or Ring-phobe), L'elisir d'amore, Robert le Diable (probably just as well), Simon Boccanegra or Cappricio in concert.

Best New Production
This was a perversely hard decision as quite frankly I think most of the new productions this season have been a bit of a let down - I do hope this isn't going to be a trend. But in the end my vote goes to....


Gloriana. Although some critics didn't enjoy the 1950's framing device, I thought it worked.  I also enjoyed the commitment of the cast and of the conductor Paul Daniel, and although Susan Bullock's voice is not a beautiful instrument, she was touching in the final scene and the whole opera was a joy to watch.  Toby Spence was also a fine Essex and brought a sweet vulnerability to the part.

Worst New Production.
Where to start?  For the most part I found the new productions this season depressing or incomprehensible or both.  Doppelgängers in Eugene Onegin could have been a good idea but the execution was clumsy and interfered too much with the story.  Rather perversely I enjoyed the production of Written on Skin but hated the actual music. Nabucco was musically very good indeed but so depressing to watch - 50 Shades of Grey indeed. So that just leaves the winner of this category....


La Donna del Lago.  Poor Joyce.  She's a game girl but even she couldn't persuade me of the merits of this one.  Which is a pity as the singing was sublime - as you would expect with Joyce di Donato and Juan Diego Florez.  But what a waste of such fantastic singers.  One where you closed your eyes and listened.

Best Production Revival
A bit spoilt for choice here and most of the revived productions were well executed, well sung and had their particular merits but for me the winner is....


Die Zauberflote.  For me, the sign of a great production or performance is that I want to go back and see it again - and in this instance I did, with the added bonus of a different cast for the second performance.  Both casts were equally good.  Stand out performances for me were Charles Castronovo as Tamino, Simon Keenleyside still funny as Papageno and Sophie Bevan as Pamina - not all in the same cast unfortunately. David McVicar's production is still magical and I'd definitely go back and see another performance.

Worst Production Revival
Actually very hard to pick out a production that I'd label 'worst' so be kind I'd say that this one is less good in comparison to others this season.  The winner is....


La Boheme.  Now don't get me wrong, I like Boheme as much as the next person and I also know that this production is vintage and 'well loved' but honestly I think its time for a new production to have a fresh look at this. Mind you, given the lack-lustre new productions this season perhaps we'd better stick with this for a few more years.  The singers were fine and in some cases very fine indeed.  Sonya Yoncheva as Musetta impressed, as did Hibla Gerzmava as Mimi. Vittorio Grigolo I found quite annoying.  His arrogance and mannerisms on stage did him no favours, which is a pity because when he settled down and started paying attention to his fellow singers (and the conductor) he was actually quite good.

Which brings me to...

Best Male Singer Performance
For regular readers of this blog (and my twitterfeed) the winner of this award will probably come as no surprise. However there was some serious competition and honourable mentions must go to Charles Castronovo in Zauberflote and La Rondine; Feruccio Ferlanetto in Don Carlo, Aleksandrs Antonenko in Tosca and Toby Spence in Gloriana.  But the winner has to be...


Jonas Kaufmann. As as I said, probably no surprise but honestly this performance just blew me away - so good I saw it twice. I would venture that the role of Don Carlo is a great fit for Kaufmann, he really seems to relish the dark, tormented characters in opera so this one fits the bill perfectly.  And if you add superb acting to the daring vocalism and you have the perfect package.  I'm hooked.

Best Female Singer Performance.
Lots of competition for this one too.  I'm not as heavily invested in the female voice, although I do love a good mezzo it has to be said.  Honourable mentions go to Angela Gheorghiu in Rondine, Sophie Bevan in Zauberflote,  Lianna Haroutounian in Don Carlo and Krassimira Stoyanova in Eugene Onegin.  But for me the winner is.....



Joyce di Donato.  Whatever the faults of the production, the singing from Joyce was absolutely superb and if she had any doubts about what she was being asked to do, she certainly didn't show it.  Add to that a winning manner and a wonderful down to earth personality which I was lucky enough to see in her masterclass, then Joyce is my Best Female Singer Performance of the season.  Brava!

And finally...

Operatic Highlight of the Year.
This simply has to be...


Don Carlo.  And not just because of the wonderful performance by Jonas Kaufmann.  If you add Ferruccio Ferlanetto, Lianna Haroutounian, Mariusz Kwiecien, not to mention Tony Pappano conducting then you have a top class performance.

So that's it.  Covent Garden is (relatively) quiet until the new opera season starts with Turandot on 9th September - I'll be having an early preview with the dress rehearsal on 7th September so watch this space.

In the meantime please do let me know your favourites of the season.

Sunday 14 July 2013

Heart of Darkness Part 2 - Il Trovatore

In my previous blog post I looked into the background of Il Trovatore and confessed to some of my problems with it, or rather my problems in experiencing a fully realised dramatic production of the work.  I'm going to get down to specifics in this post by looking at two very different productions - and both with some satisfying moments.

Going back to 2002 , the Covent Garden production directed by Elijah Moshinsky is updated to a 19th century, roughly pre-Napoleonic era, a fact that doesn't really add anything but on the other hand, doesn't detract either.  The sets are dark and monolithic with Moshinsky's trademark columns and large oppressive sets.  The military setting is very much emphasised here with lots of male-bonding amongst the bored troops and the Count di Luna sporting a set of very snazzy uniforms.  There is very little to upset anyone here - as would be expected for a Covent Garden production.


The singers are of a high standard - Jose Cura as Manrico, Dmitri Hvorostovsky as Di Luna, Veronica Villarrroel as Leonora and Yvonne Naef as Azucena.  Cura is an effective actor and is always in character although sometimes this is achieved at the expense of the vocal line.  I have always admired his voice - its tone being baritonal and hefty and yet with a reasonably easy top.  His portrayal of Manrico emphasises the gypsy almost to the exclusion of any other character traits - you would never doubt that he was Azucena's son and they even have a physically similarity.  He copes admirably with the all of vocal challenges and the Di Quella Pira seems to hold no fear.  Like Jonas Kaufmann,  his is a divisive voice - you either love it or hate it.  I happened to love it although that was in 2002.  I fear the years have not been kind to his voice and he doesn't appear at the big houses that regularly any more, although I note a recent, not totally successful Otello at the Met earlier this year.

Dmitri as Di Luna comes across as a little reserved and uptight but that works in the context of the role.  His singing is beautiful and heartfelt and you do have to wonder why Leonora doesn't run off with him instead. Okay, so he may be a little obsessive but what a voice. Veronica Villaroel has a rich spicy tone but lacks the bel canto qualities that Leonora requires and you do feel towards the end that the role is perhaps one step away from being too heavy for her voice at that stage. However she has nice chemistry with both leading men - it just needs a little more oomph.  Last but not least is Yvonne Naef as Azucena.  The voice is more refined that many Azucena's I have heard and perhaps a little more madness/obsession is required in her portrayal but she is a fine singer.

The production however doesn't really move beyond telling the story as laid out in the libretto without really digging into the terrible events described by Azucena and the consequences for all the characters.  The production teetered dangerously close to 'Carmen' territory in Act 2, and by that I mean you could quite happily have imported the gypsy chorus from Carmen into Trovatore and no one would have been the wiser. There was also a slightly distasteful if half-hearted rape scene which I presume was an attempt at controversy. Uncalled for rape scenes in opera always set my teeth on edge but luckily this one didn't labour the point.

The highlight of this production was actually the closing scene which was done very effectively indeed.  In most productions Manrico is dragged off to be executed (sometimes off stage) with Di Luna and Azucena looking on.  Here, Manrico is actually shot by Di Luna, Azucena then sings her triumphant 'he was your brother' line, and Manrico slumps lifeless into Di Luna's arms, ending with that tragic tableau.  I thought it made the ending even more powerful than usual and was very effective in bringing home exactly what Di Luna  - and Azucena - had done.

It is an effective production in many ways and one which I would happily watch again.

Which brings us to this.



This image is just one action packed scene from the recent Munich production of Il Trovatore.  There is no possible way I can go into every single detail of this production - and in a way that's what I didn't like about it.  There is far too much going on here and for very little benefit.  Apparently set in a dreamscape, the stage is constantly revolving, the story constantly moving around between reality and nightmare.  Some things worked for me and some things didn't.  Having Leonora portrayed as being blind might have been interesting if they'd developed the theme, but alas it just came across as a way of getting around the problem of mistaken identity in Act 1 - after that the blindness just gets in the way. I can only imagine the restrictions placed on the singer.

The overall impression I got was that the director, Olivier Py doesn't trust the story - or the singers - or the composer...or even the audience come to that..  Why else would you have to constantly change the images?  Why else would you have Azucena's mother wandering around the set and her execution acted out in some sort of dumb show?  The music tells us exactly what happened, it doesn't really need saying that Azucena is haunted by her mother because we know that. For the main part, this production reveals nothing new and simply serves to obscure the story further.  It drastically needs paring down to the essentials and getting rid of the clutter to concentrate on the principles.

Speaking of which, I thought the four principle singers coped admirably with what they were being asked to do, especially as this was Jonas Kaufmann's first attempt at the part of Manrico.  What an introduction!  He has said in previous interviews that ideally he prefers to sing in a 'traditional' production of a new role first and then he always has something to refer back to if he should find himself in a wacky, way-out production. Unfortunately he had no where to turn here but delivered a sterling committed performance anyway.  I still don't think it's an ideal role for him but he made a pretty good case for it.  I'd certainly like to see him in a less cluttered production. I heard him sing Manrico twice (one audio and one webcast) and he had definitely improved on second hearing - not that the first was bad in any way but you could hear the improvement the second time.  As always he got a lot of stick in the press once they finally realised he hadn't sung the unwritten high C but he was quite open about it and frankly I don't blame him.  I am not a high note freak when it comes to tenors - especially when the composer didn't write them.

Anja Harteros was sublime as Leonora and is probably the world's pre-eminent Verdi soprano today.  If her acting was less convincing then she was restricted by the blindness concept and the fact that the libretto gives her little scope for doing other than singing spectacularly which she does.  She does interact with Kaufmann very nicely indeed and I'm looking forward to La Forza del Destino which they will be doing together in Munich later this year.  It is also being broadcast on the web on the 28th December for anyone interested.

Alexey Markov as Di Luna was a bit bland for my tastes.  Vocally he was fine but he was left floundering dramatically which may be the fault of the director as the individual 'personregie' or actor direction was lacking in most cases, Py being more obviously interested in abstract images than telling the story.

Which leaves us with Azucena as played by Elina Manistina.  Azucena is actually the pivot of the opera- everything stems from her actions past or present and if a director doesn't realise that then he's directing the wrong opera.  Fortunately this is one area that actually worked for me although it still could have been better. I couldn't actually tell if the mezzo was a good actress or not but she did what she was given to do with conviction so it sort of worked.  Her voice was good if not as ultimately thrilling as some others in the role and she cut a striking figure in top hat, flouncy skirt and dramatic make-up.

Where this production really worked for me was in the pivotal scene between Manrico and Azucena in Act 2 but before I get to that I may have missed out a little bit of the back story.  You see, when Azucena's mother was burned alive and she kidnapped the Count's younger son, she was so crazed she intended to wreak revenge by throwing him into the fire!  Except that in her grief and madness induced trance she threw her own son into the flames - at least that's the story she tells in Act 2.  Oops. Which makes her fraught relationship with Manrico open to all sorts of possibilities - semi-Oedipal or otherwise.


This then is the dark heart of this opera, this twisted, dark, confused relationship between mother and foster-son.  This relationship is ripe for exploration and at least some of it is delved into here.  Although never totally explicit, my impression is that Manrico is somewhat of an abused child - both physically and possibly, now that he is grown up, sexually.  Azucena certainly has no problems clambering into bed with him, running her hands over his body (ostensibly to check for wounds) and then finally planting an very un-motherly lingering kiss on his lips.  Well, she knows that he's not really her son I suppose.  Manrico is submissive rather than willing, quite often flinching as she touches him or trying to shield himself from her.  But she is also quite happy to tie him to a chair (and you get the feeling that's not the first time) or hold a blade to his throat in order to get him to do what she wants.  Theirs is a very confused relationship indeed.

Others may disagree with this approach but it totally worked for me.  Of course Azucena would have conflicted feelings about this child/man - not only had his father killed her mother, her own guilt at killing her son by mistake would be quite successfully deflected onto poor Manrico.  This is the only production I've seen where its made explicit that Azucena has totally groomed Manrico to be the tool of her revenge so that at the end of the opera there is no sense of regret when Manrico is killed by his own brother.  I don't think the final scene actually worked that well to be honest -  the blocking and timing of it was very anti-climatic as the Count's aide stabs Manrico in the back.  Could have been done better.

But that sentiment applies to the production as a whole, for in spite of illuminating the dark relationship between Azucena and Manrico it failed in too many other places.  I leave you with one of the more successful images of the production....















Monday 8 July 2013

Heart of Darkness Part 1 - Verdi's Il Trovatore

This is less of a performance review more a post with general musings about Il Trovatore.  Along the way I will be commenting on some of my recent experiences with this opera - most recently of all the new production from Munich with Jonas Kaufmann and Anja Harteros.

On the face of it Trovatore is one of Verdi's most popular opera, regularly appearing in the top twenty in the league of opera performances across the world.   And why not?  Packed full of instantly recognisable 'tunes', full of verve and vigour, it seems like the classic template for Italian opera, an easy way in for beginners and a satisfying night out for more experienced opera lovers.  However, in recent years (and not so recent), it seems to have acquired a 'difficult' reputation.  Branded 'old-fashioned' and 'melodramatic' it has been an easy target for parody with everyone from the Marx Brothers, Gilbert and Sullivan and there is even a memorable Tiny Toons parody of the Anvil Chorus.



On the surface it has a bog-standard opera plot (soprano loves tenor who returns that love, but is thwarted by baritone who also loves our heroine) so not much too ridicule there you would have thought.  And yet the criticism most often thrown is that the plot is either ridiculous or too complicated.  Personally, I've never had a problem with the plot - I have other problems but the actual plot isn't one of them.

So for those not familiar with Il Trovatore here is the briefest of summaries.   It is the story of two brothers, separated in infancy when a gypsy kidnaps the younger child in revenge for her mother's death at the stake. This younger son is raised by the gypsy in total ignorance of his origins.  All of this takes place before the curtain goes up.  The brothers grow up to be rivals in love and war and the opera takes us through the subsequent events until the final tragic denouement.

So far, so typical.

However, there is another important character in this opera, and one so pivotal that Verdi originally considered naming the opera after her - Azucena, the gypsy who not only set the original events in motion, by kidnapping the Count di Luna's younger son, but is haunted by her own mother's death at the stake and her cries of revenge.  A revenge that Azucena feels compelled to seek without really knowing the ultimate outcome but pursuing it with dogged determination none the less.

Perhaps I've been unlucky in my encounters with this opera but I've never really seen a production (either live or on DVD) that fully embraces the darkness inherent in the story.  Most of them have been 'picture postcard' costume dramas, concentrating on local gypsy colouring or the love triangle or the production of beautiful sounds above dramatic values. None has really got to the dark heart of the story - this is an opera about a woman who is prepared to sacrifice, if required, the child she has brought up from infancy as her own, as long as she obtains the revenge demanded by her mother.  It is the relationship between mother and supposed son that is the most fascinating one in this opera.  And yet I've never seen a production that reflects this...until recently that is.

But before I go rushing ahead I have a confession to make...I don't really like the tenor role in this opera.  I know, shocking really.  I am a huge fan of the tenor voice (as you may have guessed from my blog posts) but there is just something about this particular role that I don't really get. I'm afraid I've probably seen too many productions (yes I'm looking at you Arena di Verona) where the role is based solely around one aria and how loud, how long and how high you can sing a particular note.  Frankly that sort of exhibitionism does nothing for me and I tend to roll my eyes in despair when tenors indulge in these sort of antics.  Especially if they've got nothing else to offer.  So to say Di Quella Pira is a particular bug-bear of mine is putting it mildly.

So I was intrigued, (not to say slightly appalled) when it was announced that the tenor du jour (and my current favourite) would be taking on the role of Manrico for the first time.  Really?  Now while I admire Jonas Kaufmann for carefully ticking off each Verdi tenor role in pursuit of his ultimate dream role of Otello, I would not necessarily have said that Manrico was a must-sing. Aida... yes, Stiffelio....absolutely.  Alvaro...yes please.  Manrico...hmmmmm.   But then I am not a musician or a tenor so what do I know?  Perhaps he's always nursed a secret urge brandish a sword and throw off a high C (or B) with the best of them.  I remained to be convinced.

And so it came to pass that in order to prepare myself for this important event I started digging around, researching the opera a bit more thoroughly, listened to recordings, watched DVD's and haunted YouTube like a demon, in search of the elusive perfect performance. Along the way I discovered that there really wasn't that much choice when it came to appealing versions on DVD.  However on these occasions I always fall back on the Godfather of Tenors....Placido Domingo.  Now while Placido holds all the trump cards for me vocally (my own opinion) even he could not convince me that Manrico was little more than a standard 'tenor as lover/hero' role.  The production from Vienna in the late Seventies is wholly traditional in design and costuming which does absolutely nothing to dispel my doubts about this opera.  Don't get me wrong, I like a traditionally set opera as much (perhaps more) than the next person, but for some reason it seems to obscure  the real story going on here.  The singing is more that adequate (Kaibavanska, Cossotto and Cappucilli) but it's very much opera by numbers and didn't convert me to the cause.

As an aside it's obvious that Domingo loves this opera as he is returning to it in his baritenor disguise as the Count di Luna with Netrebko as Leonora and Antonenko as Manrico. I'm sure that musically he will give it his all - he is an intelligent and tasteful musician after all.  But dramatically?  Well, let's just say I have my doubts - that's one hell of an age gap between the two brothers!

And on that note, and before this post outstays its welcome, I'll finish.  But in Part 2 I'll discuss a couple of recent-ish productions that have some interesting points to make or at least piqued my interest; an ROH production from 2002 and of course, the most recently broadcast version from Munich with Jonas Kaufmann and Anja Harteros...complete with naked dancing babies, gypsy grandmothers and a tenor being sawn in half...but until then here's a gratuitous picture of Jonas looking hot in a leather coat....with a naked granny

















Saturday 6 July 2013

This is not a Review - Tosca Dress Rehearsal at the Royal Opera House 6th July 2013

There is an unwritten convention that you don't review a dress rehearsal, probably due to the fact that singers may or may not choose to sing out or 'mark' their parts depending on their state of health, time of day, etc etc.  So this is definitely NOT a review - merely some observations from today's dress of Tosca at the Royal Opera House.

However, having said that there was very little to differentiate today's rehearsal from a full performance; all voices were in place, free and ringing and high notes all belted out into the auditorium; there were no interruptions for technical details and the only differences from a normal performance were the casual dress of orchestra and conductor, some camera clicking as the official ROH photographer took shots of the performers and the fact that it was less than a full house.

It was my first experience of a rehearsal, mainly due to the fact that the majority take place during the working week, so when I saw this one fell on a Saturday I grabbed at ticket at the first opportunity.

Tosca you see is one of my favourite opera and I simply cannot resist an opportunity to see a live performance.  I actually saw this production earlier in the season with a different cast but I was keen to see the singers in this revival - Scott Hendricks as Scarpia, Martina Serafin as Tosca and finally Aleksandrs Antonenko as Cavaradossi.  As a bit of a tenor maven I was particularly keen to hear (and see) Antonenko who I last saw as Otello last year, and I was curious to hear him in Puccini.



Let me say first and foremost that I found this performance head and shoulders above the one I experienced earlier this year with Kristine Opolais, Younghoun Lee and Michael Volle.  Comparisons are indeed odious, and it's not that I found the previous cast particularly lacking, but simply that the performance as a whole did not gel and was a slight disappointment.

In contrast, today's rehearsal, while not perfect by any means, was thrilling in parts with a real sense of theatre - something I felt the previous performance lacked.  Antonenko does not have a typical Puccini voice but he certainly knows how to thrill - high notes were secure and exciting and he made a convincing Republican sympathiser.  If I was slightly less convinced by his persona as a romantic leading man and his relationship with Tosca then I admit I have very high standards and it's almost impossible to erase the image of a Certain Other Tenor is this role and this production.  My benchmarks as Cavaradossi are Domingo (in  his prime) and Kaufmann, and if E Lucevan le Stelle doesn't make me cry I feel slightly cheated.  It didn't today but I still felt the performance as a whole worked.

Martina Serafin is no stranger to this production and it showed.  She does not really play the diva, but rather a genuine woman, jealous, insecure and in love, but no over the top diva - and her performance was all the better for it.  She came into her own in the second act with Scarpia and the performance moved onto another level.  Her Vissi d'Arte was beautiful without being show-stopping and I felt she went from strength to strength as the opera progressed.

Scott Hendricks was a pleasant surprise as Scarpia.  With less physical presence that most Scarpia I have come across, he has to dominate by sheer force of personality and voice. In the main I would say that he succeeds, especially in his confused relationship with Tosca.  I almost wish that this production did not show Scarpia primarily as facist bully-boy - I would like to see a production where Scarpia is a real possible rival to Cavaradossi, a smooth handsome charmer masking evil intent, someone who Tosca might feel a fleeting desire for.

I am sure that this cast will improve with each performance and so in short, I can heartily recommend this revival and although it looks like a sell-out, I for one will be keeping an eye out for any returns.



Sunday 23 June 2013

Glorious Gloriana - or How I Came to love Britten

Gloriana, Royal Opera House 22nd June 2013

Its been a while since my last blog - and while that's mostly because I haven't been to the opera since then,  I also think I had an adverse reaction to the last new production I saw there (La Donna del Lago) which really made me quite depressed about the new productions being presented at Covent Garden.

So it was with a slight sense of apprehension that I made the journey to see Benajamin Britten's Gloriana - because if you're going to see a new production at ROH then why not ensure that you don't really know the music or the composer that well into the bargain - what could possibly go wrong?

As it turns out, very little.


Richard Jones' concept (such as it was) was to stage the whole opera as thought it were a performance set in a 1950's village hall in the presence of the young Queen Elizabeth II - a silent figure who bookended the performance.  Various silent extras lurked around the periphery of the performance area playing directors, prompts, conductors and even a St John's Ambulance lady, which brought back memories.  And yet all of this superfluous business never once intruded onto the real action taken place on stage.  Granted you could also say 'then why bother?' But somehow it worked - at least for the main part.  A rosy glow of double nostalgia permeated the whole colourful production - nostalgia for the relatively simple times of the 1950's and perhaps also a nostalgia for the times when England and her monarch were a force to be reckoned with?

So what, I hear you ask, makes this so much better than the concept of Donna del Lago, which was also surrounded by nostalgia - if a somewhat different one?  I have no idea to be honest.  Why does one directorial idea work and another does not?  If pressed I would say that the Gloriana concept just fitted - it seemed entirely natural that we be watching this through the prism of the 1950's when the opera was composed and presented as a tribute to our current monarch.  In contrast the Donna concept seemed forced and unnatural - at odds with the action taking place and more importantly with the music and libretto.

I suppose my only slight reservation regarding the 1950's framing device, is that it does impose another layer of artificiality over the action.  We already know that these are singers merely playing their part, but now they are also (presumably) singers in the 1950's playing a part!  However I will say that the cast were all fully committed and there was never a sense of not taking the Elizabethan drama seriously nor any  'am-dram' acting.

As to the music I  must admit to being surprised and completely won over by Britten. Albert Herring has been my only other Britten experience and while I liked it, I didn't completely love it.  This music was so beautiful and varied that by the end of the evening I was vowing never to neglect Britten again!  A result surely and one of the (many) reasons I go to the opera.

The singing was good and the English text crisply delivered in most cases.  Stand out performances for me were Tony Spence's lyrical Earl of Essex and Patricia Bardon's Countess of Essex.  She displayed a fine rich mezzo which I'll definitely be looking out for in other productions.  Susan Bullock as the Queen was more problematic for me.  She is a committed artist for sure but she has a shrill edge to her voice in the upper register which on occasion  made me wince.  But she played the part with gusto and was wonderfully touching in the final scene.


All of the cast and the conductor Paul Daniels were quite rightly cheered to the rafters at curtain call and I can heartily recommend this opera to novice and experienced opera-goers alike.  There are currently bargains to be had via various sources but I suspect once word gets out the seats will be snapped up.  Failing that, ROH are broadcasting the opera live on Monday 24th June - details of where it is showing here ROH Gloriana at the Cinema

My real test of a good night at the opera is the question "Would I go and see it again?"  The answer in this instance is emphatically yes.


 



Sunday 19 May 2013

From the frustrating to the sublime - a tale of two opera

La Donna del Lago 17th May and Don Carlo 18th May, Royal Opera House

I wasn't originally due to see Rossini's Donna del Lago until 7th June but a last minute ticket appeared and I grabbed the chance for an early visit.  With a cast featuring Joyce Di Donato and Juan Diego Florez my expectations were high to say the least.  This was staged in a new production by John Fulljames, the ROH Associate Director of Opera and I think its fair to say that interest was high, especially after his boss's less than successful Eugene Onegin earlier in the season.

This is one of Rossini's neglected opera and hasn't been seen at Covent Garden since 1985 and I can understand why.  Only the best Rossini singers will do and you simply have to wait until they appear before you even think about staging this.  You need not only one but two world class mezzo-sopranos and two world beating Rossini tenors, one for a role that on paper should be un-singable.  Luckily ROH have assembled a cast that pretty much hits the target musically.

This is my first time (there's that phrase again) of hearing Joyce di Donato and Juan Diego Florez live in the theatre and I wasn't disappointed in either of them.  Both displayed the virtuosity required by Rossini while still managing to convincingly portray their characters in somewhat trying circumstances -  more on that later.  But this is not Verdi or verismo - the voice is the thing here and if there is any reason to go and see this opera then its for the voice - not for the drama.

One of my pet hates on opera is the convention of a woman playing a male role - or 'trouser role'.  I find it so ridiculous most of the time that it totally takes me out of the story being told in front of me.  However Daniela Barcellona as Malcolm, almost succeeded in convincing me she was indeed a hairy Highland warrior - kudos to wardrobe and make-up.  But of course the voice is still recognisable feminine and the illusion is destroyed.  Impressive singing by the kilted Ms Barcellona though.

Kasper Holten announced that Colin Lee was unwell and unable to sing the fearsome role of Rodrigo - the second virtuostic tenor role in this opera, and Michael Spyres had stepped into the breach. I have to say that I think he has a freakish voice - but that is what the role calls for.  His voice is baritonal - but not in the Kaufmann sense of the word.  He is most definitely a tenor but when the low notes are called for he can throw them out with abandon - sometimes sounding more like a bass than a tenor.  But then the high notes come forth and it leaves you wondering just what sort of singer this was written for - a very impressive one obviously.

That was the good - now onto the production.

The basic concept looked to be an operatic "Night at the Museum", with Elena (the Lady of the Lake) in a glass cabinet, along with other cabinets containing various mementos and gentlemen in 19th centenary evening dress wandering around getting very excited by their exhibition.  Elena is then released from her cabinet and the story proper begins but not without the annoying presence of one or more actors observing the action as it unfolds.  Also present were singers costumed as Rossini and Sir Walter Scott - to what end I really don't know.  Combine that with unwarranted rape scenes and you get a production that really doesn't know what it wants to be - apart from controversial maybe?  It seems that I was not in the minority as the production team received plenty of boos at the curtain call while the singers were cheered to the rafters.




And on top of that a lot of the action took place on the left of the stage - coincidentally the bit of the stage I couldn't really see from my restricted view seat.  Now I don't expect all the action to take place centre stage but when you have a theatre with a traditional horse-shoe shape, to stage 70% of the action to one side of the stage seems bizarre.

In conclusion this was a very frustrating night - the singing top rate but the staging not only annoying but detracting from the performance.  Go see it for the singing if you can and if you really want to see the production find a seat centre or on the right of the auditorium.

Luckily for me, I had a second visit to see Don Carlo planned for the following night.  And what a contrast it was.  I won't go into all the detail here (see previous post) but the singing here was just as sublime and in its own way as virtuostic as the Rossini, but here the production (although not ideal) didn't interfere with the drama - no dead composers on stage and no silent observers of the drama.  Just a straightforward telling of the story which didn't need any concept pasted on.  The singing and acting were even better than when I saw this the first time, each singer now completely within the character they were portraying.  The final act duet for Carlos and Elisabetta once again almost had me in tears - quite frankly I don't expect to hear it sung so beautifully again for quite a long time - if ever.

In contrast to the previous evening the audience cheered to the rafters, almost unwilling to let the cast go as they took bow after bow. There was a special feeling in the house and I felt privileged to have been there.  Simply magical.

And that's the beauty of opera - one night so frustrating you want to scream, and the next so sublime you want to weep.  And that's also why I keep going back for more.