"But yet the pity of it..." Otello, English National Opera 11 October 2014

No, not a 'Night at the Garden' this time but a 'Night at the Coliseum'.  Not that it's my first venture to ENO but it's rare enough to warrant mention.  One of the main reasons I don't venture to ENO more often is their blanket  'opera in English' language policy.  I was lucky enough to grow up listening to opera in the original language as background music in my home as my Mum loved opera.  So that by the time I came to re-discover opera in the early 90's the foreign language issue didn't bother me - especially as the Royal Opera thoughtfully provided surtitles.  So opera in English isn't a great pull for me - especially in the standard Italian repertory as frankly in English just sounds odd!

So there has to be a compelling reason for a visit to ENO; a great singer, a great non-standard opera or a particular production I want to see.  While Otello can hardly be called non-standard, I haven't seen so many live performances that I could afford to let one slip by!  Especially with Stuart Skelton taking on the herculean title role.  With bargain Secret Seat ticket in hand and not without a little trepidation I settled into my seat.

Strangely enough, Otello was one of the very first opera's I came to know and love, rather than one of any number of 'easier' works such as La Boheme, Rigoletto or Tosca.  Falling in love with opera in the early 90's I used to raid the local library for CD recordings and snapped this up.  Readers, it was love at first listen! I haven't looked back since!

But what about this production?

Let's get the somewhat controversial element out of the way first.  Generally speaking (and certainly in all of the productions I've seen) Otello is portrayed as a black man and this usually means the white tenor 'blacking up' to a greater or lesser degree.  Quite rightly, this is no longer an option but given the dearth of tenors who can actually sing this highly dramatic role, what is the solution?  ENO doesn't really come up with one to be honest and simply ignores the issue.  Which I think was wrong. Don't get me wrong, I was quite happy to see Stuart Skelton sans blackface, but I do think that the production has to compensate for this somehow, otherwise Otello ends up just being like everyone else.  Where is the sense of isolation, inferiority, 'different-ness' that is implied in both Shakespeare's play and in Verdi's opera.  Where is Desdemona's daring in marrying someone not of her kind, her rank or her age?  If Otello is reduced to just being another stock jealous 'Italian tenor' figure then the production has failed.

It can be done.  In another Verdi opera, La Forza del Destino, the tenor character is also a foreigner, an outsider or as the libretto has it , half-breed or 'mulatto'. Yes, the racial insults fly just as much in this opera as in Otello!  And yes, in the past, the tenor has nearly always had a suspiciously deep tan to mark him as 'foreign' and not worthy of his lady-love.  However, the times they are a-changing and in the recent Munich production the tenor was outfitted and bewigged in such a way as to mark him out as 'different' without resorting to a change of skin colour.

The production itself was a one-set fits all affair, dark, spare and minimalist with little furniture cluttering the stage.  What furniture did appear was subject to some violent abuse by various characters, chairs being thrown around the stage at moments of high tension.  Unfortunately this has become something of a cliche so perhaps didn't have the dramatic effect it might have done.  At this particular performance Stuart Skelton also (unintentionally) threw himself off a tower of chairs, but luckily was uninjured and carried on as though this was all part of the stage business!

While the set more or less worked for the first three acts, the lack of a separate bedchamber, or even a bed, for the vital last act murder, made it all a bit silly and the murder of Desdemona a bit anti-climactic.  Could the budget not stretch to a bed?  This all sounds very caviling and I did quite like the overall design and look of the set but it somehow needed more.

Now to the good bits.

Otello is a chorus heavy opera and ENO's chorus were in fantastic form.  The sound they produced was awesome in its power and use of  dynamics. However I do like to see my chorus have defined characters and here they didn't.  I'm sure this was the intention of the director but they just looked like an anonymous amorphous lump.  The less said about the flower strewing episode the better!

In the title role Stuart Skelton was anguished, brutal and heartrending in places.  While not having a typical Italianate sound, there was glorious compensation in the secure focused tone and the knowledge that there would be no cracking under pressure.  This is an interpretation that will grow with time and I look forward to seeing and hearing him in another production - preferably in Italian.

Leah Crocetto was a voice new to me and she has a lovely dark spinto tone, gloriously lyrical and yet able to meet the demands of Otello's anguished spouse.  Dignified in approach, she nevertheless conveyed strength of character in a role that can all to easily come over as somewhat wimpy.

Allan Clayton as Cassio is another superb tenor voice, his lighter but still ringing tenor contrasting nicely with Skelton's more hefty anguished tones.  While he plays a convincing drunkard, I do think that it was a mistake to play him drunk from start to finish.

As all good Iago's do, Jonathan Summers almost stole the show.  Verdi was tempted  to name this opera 'Iago' and you can understand why why you have as good an actor as Summers.  He was truly convincing as a two-faced manipulator who directs events with the skill of a master. His English diction was also exemplary.

So all in all a bit of a mixed bag.  Whilst I enjoyed the singing and music-making very much, the lack of defined direction in the production was a disappointment and my emotions were not engaged - somewhat of a first for me with this opera.

Also disappointing were the swathes of empty seats in the dress circle.  If ENO cannot shift tickets with great singers and a well reviewed classic Verdi opera, then I'm not sure I know what the solution is!  Certainly I cannot see how they can go on with the constant discounting of tickets especially not that their Arts Council grant has been severely curtailed!

Rigoletto, Royal Opera House 20 September 2014

Copyright Donald Cooper/PR

My Royal Opera House season got off to a great start with a double whammy of contrasting operas - Rossini's Barbiere di Siviglia on Friday evening, rapidly followed by Verdi's dark drama Rigoletto at the matinee performance the next day.  If this blog concentrates on the Verdi, that's no slight to Rossini's sparkling comedy which was everything I hoped it would be - hugely enjoyable fun with some fabulous singing to boot.  Go see!

It's very easy to take middle-period Verdi for granted at times and among the twittersphere there was a definite sense of ho-hum about Royal Opera's autumn season offerings - a lack of star singers in some cases or just a lack of excitement about the operas scheduled. To a certain extent I can definitely sympathise - on paper certainly there seemed little to get the operatic juices flowing - at least compared to the upcoming Winter season.  First night reports of this Rigoletto did not ease misgivings as singers were reported as being out of sorts and the conducting somewhat erratic.  One of the reasons why I mainly give first nights a miss!

This David McVicar production from 2001 is no romantic costume drama rather a bleak dystopian nightmare - the first scene especially is stuffed to the gills with debauchery and copulation of all varieties - not a production for your granny or any small children!  While not a prude in the slightest (even if the boob count was on the high side) it was all a bit too hectic, with too much going on and I found my attention wandering and not concentrating on the music - toning down the manic element a little  wouldn't harm the depiction of the overall licentiousness of the court of Mantua.   But overall this is a very dark portrayal of the opera indeed - there is no light at the end of the tunnel and the only truly sympathetic character is Gilda - and look what happens to her! 

The set is essentially a huge dark edifice set on a revolve which serves as the set for all acts.  It works as most of the opera is set in dark gloom but there were some pauses between scene changes didn't aid the flow of the drama.  Luckily the singers compensated for that.

Saimir Pirgu as the Duke is a fine tenor although I'm not really sure that he captured the essential character of the Duke - there seemed to be little differential between his romantic 'Gualtier Malde' interactions with Gilda, and his altogether more nasty alter-ego.  Not that I've seen many other tenors get to grip with this conundrum - they all seem rather more keen on the romantic side of the role than the real meat of the character - a reluctance to play nasty perhaps? For me, this character should have the face and voice of an angel...but the morals of a tom-cat.   Of the more recent tenors I've seen in this role only Vittorio Grigolo has convinced me as truly despicable....make of that what you will!  Vocally Pirgu took a while to warm up and the voice was a little 'one-note' to start with but things improved by the second act and the money notes were all there. I'd just like a bit more acting and more honey in the voice.

Aleksandra Kurzak is a new voice to me although pretty much established at the Royal Opera, having made her debut in 2005.  Again, her voice took a while to warm up but when it did I found it extremely beautiful and perhaps with a little more heft to it than most Gilda's - more lyric soprano than true coloratura. She returns to ROH later in the season as Fiorilla in Il Turco in Italia something I will definitely look forward to.  Her acting here was touching  and convincing - which can sometimes be difficult in a plot that is, to say the least, far-fetched in places.  Her scenes with Simon Keenlyside were especially convincing.

Ah yes,  Perhaps I'd better admit that besides my abiding love for Verdi, the main reason for booking this opera is that I was intrigued to see and hear how one of my favorite baritones would fare in this most taxing of Verdi baritone roles. This was a house role debut for Simon so I'm guessing a lot of the critics and regular audience were also wondering how he would fare.  Despite dark rumblings after the first night performance, I found his performance mesmerising and in the end deeply touching.  Vocally he may not command the typical Verdian heft but I found nothing wanting in the overall tone and technical accomplishment.  He managed the transitions from snarling, cynical jester at the Duke's court, to loving, over-protective Father in his duets with Gilda magnificently.  Physically too he gives it his all, staggering, crawling and generally heaving himself around on two sticks as the situation demands - I have no idea how you actually sing while doing that!  Rigoletto is one of the few operas where I don't actually cry at the end - not sure sure.   But on this occasion there was a definite lump in the throat.  Just superb.

The smaller roles were none too shabby either with fine contributions from Brindley Sherratt as a cavernous voiced Sparafucile and Justina Gringyte as a wonderfully convincing Maddalena. Now, I've never really had cause to notice Monterone in this opera before but Sebastian Holecek  brought a real character to the stage along with a commanding baritone voice.  Is this a future Rigoletto perhaps?

So then a dark and interesting start to the season and a useful reminder for me that even when you think you know an opera very well - and this is very familiar music to me - even I can be surprised at Verdi's achievements.  The conventions are still there (cabalettas and slightly improbable plots combine for inadvertent amusement) but at the heart of it there is a dark tale to be told and I'm betting that baritones give thanks to Verdi for such an amazing title role to play!

Addio del passato......La Traviata, Royal Opera House, 30 April 2014

I wasn't originally going to attend this set of performances of Verdi's classic opera; performances are split between two casts and I was saving my pennies for the second cast - more of which later.  But thanks to the offices of a Twitter friend (thanks Ruth), a standing ticket became mine for this matinee performance.  Even better, due to the slow tickets sales in the more expensive parts of the house, I found myself sitting in the stalls - a very rare occurrence.

This is a handsome and well-known production of Traviata, first seeing the light of day in 1994 and I remember it well from the tv broadcast with Angela Gheorghiu who made such a splash in the role. My hoard of programmes also reveal that I saw this production in the Albert Hall in 1998 during the period when the opera house was closed for refurbishment.  To be honest, I can't remember that much about the Albert Hall experience so I was keen to reacquaint myself with Richard Eyre's production.

The physical production is as traditional as they come but is relatively uncluttered and tells the story well - which is all you can ask of a a production be it traditional or modern.  I liked the contrast between the sumptuous Parisian settings of Act 1 and the second half of Act 2, and the more restrained and slightly abstract look for Violetta and Alfredo's country hideaway at the beginning of Act 2.  Act 3 of course, was all whitewashed desolation as Violetta met her tragic end.

Diana Damrau as Violetta, was one of the main reasons I wanted to catch this cast.  She has only recently taken the role into her repertoire, having previously concentrated on the purely coloratura soprano roles. Reviews have predictably been mixed after performances at La Scala and at the Met.  I wasn't exactly sure what to expect but in the end I found her portrayal of this iconic character very moving.  The first act vocal hurdles caused her no problems at all, although I was less keen on her physical embodiment of the character, with a slight case of overacting and over the top gestures.  'Old fashioned' is the phrase that springs to mind. This gradually settled down as the opera progressed - or perhaps I just got used to it.  Either way, she was very physically into the role, certainly fainting and collapsing very impressively on several occasions.  The final act was the most impressive of all and I don't think I have seen another soprano embody the physical frailty of Violetta quite so well.  She even managed to carry off the final 'swan-song' in this production - where the soprano has a last burst of energy and runs around the stage before collapsing. She managed to make this look not only plausible but heartbreaking.

Vocally there were no complaints at all from me.  Not only did she fearlessly throw off the coloratura of the first act (complete with high E to finish), but also negotiated the more dramatic and emotional requirements of Acts 2 and 3.  The audience were suitably appreciative and she received the biggest applause of the day.

Dmitri Hvorotovsky is no stranger to this production, in fact he made his ROH debut as Georgio Germont at the Albert Hall performances which I attended in 1998.  He is probably a little more suited to the elder Gemont now, although he did sound a bit 'throaty' to begin with, he soon warmed up and his duet with Violetta in Act 2 was a masterclass in controlled and beautiful legato.  His physical interpretation was also interesting, suggesting an attraction to Violetta which he manfully tried to hide.  I actually quite liked this approach which makes the elder Germont seem less of a one-dimensional 'baddie' than I have seen portrayed in other productions.

In fact, I did wonder at times why Violetta didn't run off with Papa Germont rather than his son! That's not to say that there was anything wrong with Francesco Demuro's portrayal of Alfredo - just that I didn't really feel there was any special chemistry with Damrau and so I was less involved with the 'tragic romance' aspect on this occasion.  Demuro has a fine lyric voice well suited to this role his Alfredo was impetuous, naive and somewhat self-absorbed and selfish.  I haven't always noticed this about Alfredo before, as in other productions the emphasis can be towards the romance and the undercurrents are forgotten.  It worked well but as I said, I did begin to wonder why Violetta had fallen in love with him.

All in all it was a very satisfying performance of an old favourite.  I tweeted after the performance saying it was 'delightfully old-fashioned'.  This is not a criticism by any means although there was a touch of (deliberate?) nostalgia about the whole thing.  Interpolated high notes, all cabalettas included, sumptuous sets and costumes and end of act curtain calls made the whole things seem like a throwback to another time.  But there were also the old fashioned virtues of fantastic singing, an understandable narrative and total commitment from all involved.

As I mentioned, I'm going to see this production again with the second cast.  Ailyn Perez stars as Violetta with her husband Stephen Costello portraying Alfredo.  And if that wasn't enough there is also the attraction of Simon Keenlyside as Georgio Germont.  To say that I'm looking forward to this would be understatement indeed.

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 13^th 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.

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

Starry Starry Night - Don Carlo, Royal Opera 11th May 2013

I may have mentioned this before but I love Verdi.  I may also have mentioned that my current favourite tenor is Jonas Kaufmann. So imagine what would happen if my two loves were combined in one fabulous evening....read on.

Don Carlo is one of Verdi's most epic opera - both in ambition and scale.  With a performance length hovering at around 4 and a half hours, this takes commitment both from the artists and the audience.  Not all of the audience were up to it and a couple of young women seated next to me abandoned ship at the first interval  their places gratefully taken by an Italian couple from the standing places. But perseverance pays dividends for this is one of Verdi's most ravishing scores wrapped in a deeply dark political and personal plot.

Hearing Jonas Kaufmann's voice live in the theatre for the first time is probably something I will always remember.  Yes, of course it sounds just a good as on DVD or CD, but live in the theatre you can feel the full impact of the varied tone and dynamics.  But I can now sort of understand why some reviewers think that hasn't got a 'Verdi voice' - it lacks the typical ping and innate sunshine in the sound, but in Don Carlo this matters less given the dark overtones throughout.  I for one would gladly listen to Herr Kaufmann in whatever he chooses to sing.  Yes, even Wagner!

But he wasn't the only vocal star of the evening. There was barely a weak link in this magnificent cast, even given the cancellation of Anja Harteros who was due to appear as Elisabetta but cancelled due to acute tonsillitis.  I won't go into the furore (not in the House but on social media) that greeted this latest of many cancellations, but will simply say that her replacement was much more than adequate.  Lianna Haroutounian has an impressive dark toned voice with ringing high notes and sympathetic acting in her portrayal of Elisabetta and she clearly impressed the audience judging by her reception at the end of the opera.  I would hope that the ROH management are even now beating down her door armed with future contracts.

In the role of Rodrigio, Mariusz Kwiecien displayed a robust baritone but I found his acting in this role pretty generalised, although I appear to have been in the minority as he also was cheered to the rafters. Beatrice Uria-Monzon sang Princess Eboli who cut a beautiful figure (as her character should) but whose voice is an acquired taste.

The fabulous Ferrricio Furlanetto as the despotic tyrant  Philip humanised by Verdi's music, was simply sublime.  Out of all of the singers on stage he was the one who fully embodied the role he was playing - that comes from over 30 years of playing the role and the experience shows.  His duet with the Grand Inquisitor as sung by Eric Halfvarson was masterly and almost the best moment in the opera.  Almost.

Although hard to pick the greatest moment out of so many great moments, the best for me was the final heart-rending farewell duet between Carlo and Elisabetta at the tomb of Carlos V.  It was simply ravishing and I cannot imagine I will ever hear it sung so beautifully again.  Kaufmann dared to reduce his voice to the merest whisper in places and yet was still clearly audible.  Haroutounian joined in this Verdian 'liebestod' until there was barely a dry eye in the house.

Last but certainly not least, Antonio Pappano led the orchestra in a rousing and dynamic reading of this complex music.  The ROH Chorus too played a vital role in making the performance come alive.

I've concentrated on the singing in this review and I think that's how it should be.  Nicholas Hytner's production has been well documented elsewhere and has both detractors and admirers.  It's semi-abstract style certainly doesn't detract from an outstanding evening although I don't think it particularly added anything either.  I've certainly seen the autdo-da-fe done better but as I say, it didn't detract from the fabulous singing and acting on stage.

I've said that I cannot imagine hearing the final duet sung so beautifully again - actually I'm hoping I will as I'm revisiting this on the 18th May where I hope to be blown away all over again.

50 Shades of Grey.....The Opera

Nabucco, Royal Opera House 6th April 2013

For those of you who might have found your way to this blog via searching the title of this post, I apologise if you were expecting something a little more...exciting shall we say.  No, this is about a performance of Verdi's Nabucco staged by the Royal Opera in a production by Daniele Abbado.

Let me lay my cards on the table here - I love Verdi.  He is by far my favourite opera composer and although I may flirt with Puccini, Mozart, Strauss and even Wagner I always return to Verdi.  Why?  I have no logical or well thought out explanation, but simply say that his his music has the ability to move me in ways other composers rarely do.  His music encapsulates the drama and in a good stage performance can stir the emotions in myriad ways.  Which is why last night's performance was so disappointing.

Let's get the bad out of the way first along with a little story background.  Nabucco is a classic biblical tale of conflict between the Hebrews and Babylonians, the title name being an Italianisation of the Old Testament king Nebuchadnezzar.  The opera was also Verdi's first big stage success, full of patriotic rousing choruses (Va pensiero) and a fantastic role for a dramatic soprano (Abigaille) and great acting opportunities for the leading baritone role of Nabucco.

As is the norm these days, the production was updated, this time to an unspecified time and location, although it had a vaguely 40's/50's look about it.  Now, I don't object to random updating, in fact a good modern production can cast a new light on old works and make you think about them in a different way.  What I do object to is random updating with no particular rhyme or reason - as in this case.  The set consisted of what looked like a giant sandpit with concrete obelisks, around which the large chorus wandered around seemingly at random. Distracting projections on the back screen only added to the confusion.

More disastrously costumes worn by chorus and principles made no attempt to differentiate between the Hebrews and their oppressors - a vast study in grey. There also seemed to have been little attempt by the director to tell the actual story and for the majority of the time chorus and principles shuffled about or stood facing the audience to sing of their anguish.  In fact, if you 'd binned the set, dressed the singers in evening dress and done a concert performance I'm convinced that the evening would have been much better.  As I say, I have no objection to updating when there is a particular point to be made, but what was the point here? And when things did get a bit more exciting (in comparison with what had gone before) there was still no dramatic reasoning behind it.

Now while a ring of fire is very pretty and certainly warmed things up on a chilly evening, what was the reasoning behind it?  Certainly the soprano Liudmyla Monastryrska gave no hint in her demeanour.  There was also some nonsense where various Hebrew prisoners were dragged around the sandpit seemingly with the sole intention of making pretty patterns in the sand!  If Daniele Abaddo were trying to say something with this production it was lost in translation.

Now onto the good.  The musicianship and singing on display ranged from good to excellent.  The conductor Nicola Luisotti led a spirited overture which boded well for the rest of the evening and sure enough the music making was first class.  Leo Nucci is a veteran in the title role, both in terms of experience and age.  At 71 years old his voice is a miracle, showing very few signs of wear and tear, and bringing with him a real Verdian style and appreciation.  I can't imagine the title role being sung better - even by the erstwhile baritenor Placido Domingo who takes over the role on the 15th April.  Dramatically too, Nucci always convinced starting with arrogant monarch (in a grey suit) challenging God, to a convincing and sympathetic portrayal of madness when he is struck down for his arrogance.

One of the main attractions for many of the audience was the chance to hear soprano Liudmyla Monastryska as Abigaille, Nabucco's daughter.  She has a huge dramatic voice in the middle range, although I felt that her lower notes were not well supported (that's me getting technical) and sometimes her top notes were slightly disconnected from the main body of her voice.  No, her glory is in the strong and secure middle of the voice, the chest register impressive and dominant and the audience clearly loved it.  However for me I was more than pleasantly surprised when she sang softly and lyrically - she has a beautiful mezza-voce which she doesn't use often enough, although maybe this is not the sort of role that calls for it.  However, what she doesn't have is dramatic impetus - at least not in this production.

Another pleasant discovery for me was the tenor Andrea Care who gave a good account in the relatively small role of Ismaele - this is not a tenor dominant opera.  But his voice is secure and he has a handsome presence and was probably one of the most dramatically engaged of the singers on stage.  I'd like to see him in a leading role to see if he has all the goods.  A special mention also goes to the Zaccaria of Vitalij Kowaljow, possessor of a deeply sonorous bass voice and some convincing acting - I'd like to see him in a production where he can fully show off his dramatic instincts.

 But above all the expanded chorus of the Royal Opera House deserve special mention.  Their singing throughout the opera was simply stunning - especially in the famous Va pensiero (pictured above) where the final held note was breathtaking and worth the price of admission alone - if only the rest of the production had been up to their exacting standards.

So to conclude, a dramatically disappointing evening but musically it was way above average.