Mercandante "I Briganti" anticipates Verdi

Saverio Mercandante: I Briganti
Maxim Mironov; Petya Ivanova; Vittorio Prato; Bruno Pratico; Camerata Bach Choir, Poznan; Virtuosi Brunensis; Antonio Fogliani, conductor
Naxos

Saverio Mercandante has been characterized as the bridge between Rossini and Verdi -- and I Briganti demonstrates why. Completed in 1836, "I Briganti" was written partially in response to Bellini's "I Puritani."

This bel canto opera eschews self-contained arias for music that is more fully integrated into the drama. At the same time, it provides plenty of opportunities for singers to show what they're made of -- as is the case in this performance.

This world premier recordings captures the 2012 Rossini in Wildsad Festival production, with all pros and cons of live recording. The pros include the singing of the three principals, tenor Maxim Mironov (Ermano), baritone Vittorio Prato (Corrado), and soprano Petya Ivanova (Amelia). All three sing with confidence and energy, producing warm, rounded tones.

The cons include some occasional pitch problems in the chorus, and the overall recorded sound. The sound stage seems a little cramped, and the music sounded to my ears somewhat soft around the edges.

Nevertheless, Mercandante's music works its magic and I soon forgot my quibbles with the recording. Highly recommended for lovers of Italian opera. And if you can, listen to "I Briganti" and then Verdi's "I Masnadieri," a setting of the same story. Mercandante's opera compares quite favorably, particularly in dramatic structure and pacing.

Meyerbeer Overtures and Entr'actes -- Light Entertainment from Grand Opera

Meyerbeer: Overtures and Entr'actes from the French Operas
New Zealand symphony Orchestra
Darrell Ang, conductor
Naxos

When I mentioned I was reviewing this new Meyerbeer recording, I discovered just how low my colleagues held Meyerbeer's music. Robert Schumann didn't care much for it, but I think he -- and others -- miss the point. Giacomo Meyerbeer wasn't out to make pronouncements from God -- he wanted to write entertaining, successful operas. He achieved his goals, and the music in the collection demonstrates why.

Included are instrumental works from Meyerbeer's biggest hits -- "Robert le Diable," "Les  Huguenots," and "L'Africaine" -- along with selections from "Dianorah and Le Prophete. Meyerbeer wrote almost exclusively for the stage, and his works are unfailingly catchy and tuneful.

Darrell Ang conducts the New Zealand Symphony Orchestra with a certain amount of brio, never failing to bring out the drama of the music (without overplaying it). To me, this was a great collection of classical music for casual listening. I just need to be careful who I play it for.

Stanislaw Moniuszko: Overtures - Polish treasures

Stanislaw Moniuszko: Overtures
Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra; 
Antoni Wit, conductor
Naxos

In Poland, Stanislaw Moniuszko is a national hero. Like Dvorak, he was able to retain the characteristic sound of his country's folk music in classical works, creating music that sounded distinctively Polish. Most of Moniuszko's composition are for the human voice; songs, cantatas, anthems and especially operas.

This new release features ten opera overtures from "the Father of Polish Opera," and what a treat they are. Tuneful, straightforward, and full of energy -- to my ears they sounded like a blend of Weber, Suppe and Dvorak. And there's plenty of variety. some, like "The Hetman's Mistress" are real curtain-raisers, uptempo and sprightly. Others, like "the Raftsman" are quieter, setting the stage with long, languorous melodies of tender beauty. And almost all have slightly unusual chord progressions or rhythms that give them a distinctively Polish sound.

Antoni Wit and the Warsaw Philharmonic Orchestra are admirably suited to these works. Just as a Viennese orchestra instinctively knows how to add a little something to a Strauss waltz, this Polish orchestra knows what Moniuszko's referencing, and play it as it should be.

Highly recommended to anyone who enjoys mid-century romantic music -- especially opera.

Richard Wagner: The Last of the Titans - a flawed look at a flawed man

Richard Wagner: The Last of the Titans
by Joachim Köhler
Translated by Stewart Spencer
New Haven: Yale University Press, 2004

Few historical figures have had as much written about them as Richard Wagner. Despite the library shelves groaning with books about the Bayreuth Master, Joachim Köhler has added to the hoard with almost 700 pages of text, splendidly translated by Stewart Spencer.

Wagner receives little sympathy from Köhler, and little attention is paid to the music. Instead, Köhler puts Wagner on the psychoanalyst's couch and repeats ad nauseam the litany of Wagner's antisemitism. That Wagner resented and even hated the Jews as a race is hardly news, but Köhler only touches on the many Jews with whom Wagner was friendly and who admired his work.

Wagner's difficult, even traumatic childhood is well-known. Köhler's strained efforts to read Wagner's childhood demons into the operas is not particularly enlightening. While his analysis of the libretti is sometimes insightful, he neglects almost completely any commentary about the music (there are no musical examples).

That is strange because he recognizes that Wagner's innovative use of the orchestra inevitably puts the singers at a disadvantage. Even at the Festspielhaus in Bayreuth, with its amphitheater seating, darkened interior, and orchestra pit buried under the stage, the theatrical elements of the operas still often predominate. Köhler sees Parsifal, the scoring of which is as luminous as the libretto is obscure, as an exercise in sexual obsession, a perspective which ignores the explicit Christian references in the text.

Wagner was the musical colossus of his age, and his successors for decades thereafter either counted themselves among his acolytes or struggled to escape his shadow. Probably no other composer, Beethoven perhaps excepted, had a more profound impact on his contemporaries. But Wagner is too often judged by those who, like Köhler, put more emphasis on what Wagner said than on what he did. Wagner profoundly affected the course of 19th Century intellectual life, musical and otherwise. (See Jacques Barzun, Darwin - Marx - Wagner - Critique of a Heritage). But that "titan" of the title of Köhler's book hardly emerges from this biography.

Köhler does cast some new light on the baleful influence of Wagner's widow Cosima. She became, late in Wagner's life, not only his wife, muse, and amanuensis, but also the CEO of "Bayreuth, Inc." In her eyes and those of her family who succeeded her as keepers of the Bayreuth grail, Wagner's work was an enterprise that it was her duty to preserve intact.

 Wagner was a great artist, but in many ways an appalling human being. Still, for those of us who love his art, his many character flaws are forgotten as soon as we enter the world that he created. (See M. Owen Lee, Wagner: The Terrible Man and His Truthful Art).

 - WTJU Opera

Schreker's "Die Gezeichneten" Seduces the Ear

Die Gezeichnete (The Stignatized)
Franz Schreker
LA Opera; James Conlon, conductor
Anja Kampe, Robert Brubaker, Martin Gantner, James Johnson, Wolfgang Schöne
3 CD Set
Bridge Records

Franz Schreker's 1914 opera "Die Gezeichneten" is a study of opposites. Alviano Salviago is ugly and physically deformed, but has a pure spirit. The beautiful island paradise he creates has been taken over by young nobles for their orgies. The artist Carlotta is first attracted to Alviano's inner beauty, but then gives herself to lustful attentions of outwardly handsome Count Tamare.

Schreker's shimmering, richly orchestrated score is indeed beautiful, while simultaneously conveying a sense of unease and overripe decadence. This live recording of "Die Gezeichneten" by the LA Opera captures the spirit of Schrecker's troubling work and delivers its emotional content in full.
Maestro James Conlon has a clear affinity with this music, and it shows. Schreker scored the work for an expanded orchestra. The LA Opera had to reduce the size of the ensemble to fit in the venue, but no matter. Under Conlon's direction, the music sounds rich and full. If anything, the paring down of the orchestra adds a limpid translucence to the score.

Robert Brubaker performs well as Salviago, also his upper register is a little thin at times. Anja Kampe, as Carlotta,  sings with a soft, rounded tone that sounds especially beautiful in the lower register. Their voices have a wonderful blend, making the duets between Salviago and Carlotta the high points of the recording (at least for me).

This three-CD set includes a booklet with the complete libretto in German, Italian, French, and English. Bridge's release captures the excitement and energy of the live performance with pristine sound (and virtually no distracting audience noise). Recommended.

The Most Beautiful Opera Houses in the World

The Most Beautiful Opera Houses in the World 
Photography by Guillaume de Laubier
Text by Antoine Pecqueur
hardcover, 240 pages
Abrams Books

One of the many pleasures of attending operatic performances is enjoying the many beautiful venues–the great opera houses of the world. In pre-20th Century Europe building an opera house was seen as a tribute to the ruling dynasty.

The Semper Oper in Dresden, for example, will always be associated with the Elector August the Strong, a massive equestrian statute of whom still greats visitors to this greatest of all opera houses in Eastern Germany, and one of the finest in all of Europe.

Today the enormous cost of building and maintaining an opera house can be sustained only by government and patrons of vast wealth. The very idea of building a purely functional opera house is considered absurd. Despite recurring wars, revolutions, fires, and the final cataclysm of World War II, many of Europe’s great opera houses survived or have been restored to their former grandeur. Even Berlin, a city prostrate and largely destroyed in 1945, again has three opera houses, one of which, the Staatsoper on Unter den Linden, is one of the most beautiful and impressive in all of Europe. Vienna, another defeated capital, could hardly be imagined without its magnificent opera house restored to its pre-war glory.

The world’s great opera houses have frequently been chronicled in photographs, posters, and lavishly illustrated books. The most recent of the latter is The Most Beautiful Opera Houses in the World, photographs by Guillaume de Laubier and text by Antoine Pecqueur (Abrams 2013). It is a large-format coffee-table book with superb photographs of the interiors and exteriors of 32 of the world’s finest opera houses, most of which are in Europe.

The two in the United States include one of my least favorite opera houses, the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, and one of my favorites, the Civic Opera House in Chicago. The Met, despite being the home of one of the finest opera companies in the world, is a vast barn of a place with mediocre acoustics. The Civic Opera House, also home to a very fine company, despite its large dimensions still retains a feeling of intimacy. Its art deco furnishings, such as decorative motifs in the form of stylized gilt sheaves of grain, exemplifies Chicago's Midwestern identity and noble architectural heritage.

Bayreuth could hardly be left out, though it is not grand in the tradition of Europe's other temples of operatic grandeur. Richard Wagner intended the Festspielhaus to exemplify his democratic principles, which were contrary to the perceptions of opera generally. The house that he built has an environment, both architectural and acoustic, that is unique in all the world.

Mention "opera" and one house immediately springs to mind: Teatro alla Scala in Milan, beautiful, extravagant, and steeped in the traditions of the art. No house has been the venue for the premieres of more of the enduring works of the operatic repertoire than this grande dame of all the opera world. It is the repository of Italy's cultural soul. After being heavily damaged by Allied bombing near the end of World War II, it was restored and opened a few years later and only recently reopened after a controversial renovation that has brought its technical capabilities up to the standard of more modern houses, like the Met.

The book features photographs of more recently constructed opera houses in Oslo and Copenhagen, worthy examples of Scandinavian architectural modernism. Opera houses and performance halls of all kinds are being built at a furious pace in China, which is using its new wealth to validate itself as a cultural destination for the world. Although none of the Chinese halls are featured in the book, later chronicles of the world's opera houses can hardly ignore them.

The photographs are beautiful, and the text is graciously written. The Most Beautiful Opera Houses in the World, belongs on the book shelves of all serious opera lovers.

-- WTJU Opera

Domingo: Verdi - immaculately sung

Placido Domingo
Verdi
Orquestra de la Comunitat Valencian
Pablo Heras-Casado, conductor
Sony Classical

Normally a new recital disc of Verdi arias by Placido Domingo would not be particularly noteworthy, except this disc features the great tenor in arias written for the baritone voice. After a distinguished career as a tenor, Domingo now is singing Verdi's baritone roles. Already Covent Garden, Berlin, Mantua, and the Met have heard him as Simon Boccanegra, Germont, and in other roles, but this new disc features a broad spectrum of arias composed by Verdi for his baritone characters.

Distinguished Verdi baritones are a rare commodity these days, so this disc is especially welcome. Verdi's baritone roles typically lie mostly in the upper part of a lyric baritone's register, well within the range of Domingo's voice.

Domingo the baritone does not evoke memories of Macneil, Warren, or Milnes. Instead, he makes these arias his own, almost as though Verdi composed them for a lower-voiced tenor. The dark, but still lyric quality of the Domingo voice is still very much in evidence, as is the noble phrasing and immaculate technique.

As always, he does not simply sing the arias, but he inhabits the role that he is portraying. Boccanegra's curse terrifies, and Germont's sorrow is made real for us. Domingo's voice does not quite reach the depths of the baritone register, so a phrase or two is not perfectly finished where it concludes in the lower register, as in "Eri tu" from Un ballo in maschera, but otherwise his voice comfortably fits the selections he has chosen for this recital.

Particular favorites are "Pietà, rispetto, amore" from Macbeth, which opens the disc, and Rigoletto's anguished "Cortigiani, vil razza dannata." Domingo's treatment of Germont's aria "Di Provenza il mar" from La traviata rivals Robert Merrill's interpretation in its lyricism, if not in pure baritonal heft. Verdi usually encouraged a lyrical interpretation from his singers (the role of Lady Macbeth being an exception), and he would have approved of Domingo's always lyrical approach. It is only in the arias from La forza del destino, where we have grown accustomed to a more muscular approach, that Domingo's treatment of Carlo's music is not entirely convincing. albeit beautifully sung.

Throughout the disc Pablo Heras-Casado's conducting of the Orquestra de la Comunitat Valenciana is supportive and flexible. (Heras-Casado recently made his Met debut conducting Rigoletto).

THE GREATEST TENORS?

The great tenor Placido Domingo has retired from singing the tenor repertoire, now singing and recording the Verdi baritone repertoire. It is time to reconsider an article from BBC Magazine from about five years ago, surveying supposedly knowledgeable listeners on the greatest tenor "of all time." Domingo, although not high on that list, should have been (no singer ever has sung Parsifal, Don Carlo, Gherman, Don José, and Le Cid, let alone more than 120 other roles, with such consummate musicianship).

It all depends on one's criteria. How can we compare any tenor of today with all other tenors of the past? No one alive today ever heard Tamagno, Rubini, or Duprez, so how can we compare Corelli or Vickers to tenors we have never heard? We know from contemporary accounts what respected musicians of the time thought of them, but then again a critic as qualified as Berlioz never heard Pavarotti, so how is one to judge? If we limit the field to those tenors that we have heard, either live or on record, then the list makes some sense. That said, left off the BBC's list were Del Monaco, the greatest tenore di forza, and Simoneau, a superior Mozart tenor.

In terms of the influence on his contemporaries and future generations of singers and listeners, Caruso stands alone. Tulio Serafin, a conductor who heard more fine singers than anyone else, said that he had heard many great singers, but only three great voices, one of whose was Caruso's. His records are still best sellers.

If the criterion is sheer beauty of the voice, Pavarotti, Gigli, and Wunderlich are at the top of the heap. If the standard is technical excellence, singers today still learn from McCormack and Björling. There is no more demanding repertoire than Wagner, and Melchior sang that repertoire better than anyone else.

If the test is sheer visceral excitement on a given night, I would have bought a ticket to hear Corelli any time. And there was no more compelling singing actor than Vickers (along with Domingo perhaps). When it comes to suave, immaculate singing, then Bergonzi and Kraus are among the finest. Tucker was the "Italian tenor" of choice at the Met for years.

Although Caballé sang a huge repertoire, no one except perhaps the great 19th Century basso Luigi Lablache has even come close to the range of Domingo's repertoire. He did not have the beautiful, free, ringing top of a Pavarotti or a Gigli, but he has a warm, rich, baritonal midrange that is the envy of other tenors. Only Ramon Vinay may have been his equal in that respect. But Domingo is a towering stage presence, not to mention the consummate professional.

Vinay, like Vickers and Domingo, was a great Otello, and Vickers, like Domingo, was a great Siegmund. But while Vickers made Grimes his own, he would not have touched the lyric roles that Domingo sang. So, Caruso is still the "Babe Ruth of Tenors," but Domingo is not far behind, then maybe the next six or seven of your favorite tenors in whatever order you prefer. Bergonzi, McCormack, Corelli? Take your pick.

Do we have any future candidates from today's tenors? Maybe Kaufmann, or perhaps Floréz in the repertoire of his choice.

LETTER FROM BAYREUTH

Wagnerians could be nowhere else this summer of the bicentennial of Wagner’s birth but in Bayreuth for the new production of the Ring. This writer was one of the privileged few to have a ticket for one of the three Ring cycles presented at the Festival this summer (the second cycle, August 14-19). The brutal heat, topping 95 degrees in Central Europe, had finally abated, leaving cool evening air in its wake, making the atmosphere of the Festspielhaus at least tolerable.

Much critical commentary has already been written about the staging by Berlin director Frank Castorf. To characterize it as "Eurotrash" is almost a compliment. Rarely has such egotistical, willfully ugly, vulgar, and patently condescending staging been seen on any operatic stage, let alone one as exalted as Bayreuth's. The staging was especially unfortunate in that Castorf has a virtuoso director’s facility for using props and movement on the stage for visual effect. Yet his staging reflected his contempt for the audience in the house. This production seemed to say "I want to see just how much crudity served up by my ego you can tolerate in the guise of service to great art." That said, it speaks to Wagner's genius and the commitment of the artists for this Ring that somehow Wagner's mighty vision survived the offense visited on his creation by Castorf's production.

To pick just a few examples, what kind of imagination could conceive of the Rhinemaidens as voluptuous floozies turning tricks in a rundown second-rate motel run by Wotan? This is, after all, Der Ring des Nibelungen, but where are the Nibelungs? Nowhere to be found, rendering the chorus of clanging anvils that accompanies the voyage of Wotan and Loge to Nibelheim completely pointless. In Siegfried the purpose of the forging of the great sword Notung is to give Siegfried a weapon with which to dispatch Fafner and seize the gold. Fafner is done in by a burst of fire from Siegfried’s Kalashnikov assault rifle! Thereafter Notung becomes nothing more than a pointless prop. To a red Berliner of Castorf's generation, knee-jerk anti-Americanism comes with the territory, even though it has nothing to do with Castorf's narrative, assuming that there is a narrative. wake, making the atmosphere of the Festspielhaus at least tolerable.

Fortunately, this Ring was saved from disaster by the performing artists. The singing, with few exceptions, was of a high order. Wolfgang Koch's Wotan, while the voice is a bit light for the role, was lyrically sung. Sorin Coliban's Fafner, while well sung, was eclipsed by the Fasolt of Günther Groissböck. He has a resonant bass voice and an appropriately menacing stage presence. Nadine Weissmann's Erda was sung with a rich contralto voice, even though Castorf asked her to engage in stage behavior that was often unspeakably vulgar. Of the Rhinemaidens, Julia Rutigliano's Wellgunde was especially well-sung.

Die Walküre was the only one of Castorf’s creations that had any coherence. His visualization of Hunding's hut was convincing, as was the way in which the scenery and props were used by the characters to impart the action. The most consistently fine singing in this Ring was by Johan Botha and Anja Kampe, as Siegmund and Sieglinde. Botha's acting can be stiff and with little nuance, but what singing! He has a large tenor voice which he employs with just the kind of bel canto sensitivity and warmth that Wagner, who admired Bellini's operas, intended. If anything, Kampe was even better. She captured the fear and hatred she had for her husband, the brute Hunding (Franz-Joseph Selig), utterly convincingly. Her voice soared over the orchestra with a sweet tone and fine phrasing. Weissmann and Rutigliano distinguished themselves as Valkyries Schwertleite and Siegrune. Winterstürm and Wotan's Abscheid, were high points of this Ring, and Castorf actually made the magic fire believable.

Castorf’s Siegfried was almost unbearably vulgar, even given his low standards. The conclusion of Act III, with the arrival of two mechanical crocodiles to see the lovers off, is probably the stupidest bit of staging I have seen in over 40 years of opera-going. But Koch’s Wanderer and Burkhard Ulrich’s slippery Mime were nicely realized, not to mention well-sung. Catherine Foster’s Brünnhilde hit her stride in Siegfried. But Siegfried ultimately belongs to Siegfried, and Lance Ryan disappointed in the title role. He has great upper extension to his voice, and it has the bright edge needed for this role, but his voice has a leathery quality with little nuance. Everything he sang sounded pretty much the same.

Die Götterdämmerung, of course, is probably impossible to stage–how to stage the end of the world? Castorf’s effort, though, was particularly feeble. Having been given the Ring by Brünnhilde, the Rhinemaidens simply cast it into a charcoal brazier, while Hagen looks on helplessly, as the object of his affection goes up in smoke. At least Attila Jun looked and acted the part of the consummate villain Hagen, and he sang the music with conviction and a big, dark voice. Foster was at her best in the Immolation Scene, even though she was given no help by the staging.

I have saved the best for last. Conductor Kirill Petrenko and the orchestra covered themselves with glory. They were rewarded at the end of each opera with huge ovations, each one of which was richly deserved. Under his leadership the orchestra phrased with the singers, and despite a massive sound, rarely drowned them out, aided immeasurably by the unique acoustics of the Festspielhaus. The brasses had a rich, dark sound that is so characteristic of the brass in the best of German orchestras. The sound of the lower strings was fat and lush, and the woodwinds played to perfection, especially the bass clarinetist, whose plaintive recurring solo lines so often signify a change in the mood throughout the Ring.

As bad as Castorf's production was, this Ring was redeemed by the singers, Petrenko’s conducting, and the magnificent playing of the orchestra. As a concert performance, it would have been a first-class Ring, but even despite the production, it was well worth the trip to the beautiful city of Bayreuth in the summertime to honor the bicentennial of the birth of Wagner, Germany's greatest opera composer.

Report for Verona

The Festival at the Arena di Verona is one of the great operatic spectacles. Staged in the vast Roman arena in Verona, the stage is probably the world's largest. The program for 2012 was unique in the Festival's long history, since it featured the first Mozart opera to be staged there, Don Giovanni, in a production by Franco Zeffirelli.

For once the venue was worthy of Zeffirelli's tendency to monumentalism. The Don of Erwin Schrott fairly dominated the stage, capably aided and abetted by his somewhat loyal retainer Leporello, sung and acted with verve by Marco Vinco. Rarely does Don Ottavio threaten to steal the show, but the creamy lyricism of Mozart's music as sung by Saimir Pirgu almost managed to accomplish the feat. The ladies were sung capably but with no particular distinction, and Daniel Oren's conducting was nothing if not lively, almost to a fault. The performance of July 12 was interrupted briefly by some sprinkles of rain in Act II, but it failed to dampen the enthusiasm of the artists or of the public's reception of a fine performance.

Aida is a fixture at Verona, and this season was no exception. Gianfranco di Bosio's staging was appropriately grand, but the singing was only adequate. Unfortunately, Dolora Zajick, the eagerly awaited Amneris, cancelled the July 15 performance due to illness. Jorge de Léon sang Celeste Aida with distinction, however. Lucrecia Garcia, who sang Aida, demonstrated an appalling moment of amateurism by stepping out of character and waiving to the audience after only an adequate rendition of Ritorna vincitor!.

Audiences love Carmen, and Franco Zeffirelli's new production at Verona was no exception. The staging was appropriately spectacular, with lighting design effects that cannot be equaled elsewhere, given the vast venue of the Arena. Anita Rachvelishvili, who sang Carmen, has a vast voice and knows how to use it. She is originally from Tbilisi, Georgia, and she has not yet reached her 30th birthday. Although not exactly a refined singer at this stage in her career, she has the dusky good looks and rich mezzos-oprano voice to make her a convincing Carmen. Marco Berti sang Don José's music with his customary suavity. Julian Kovatchev's choices of tempo ran from the brisk to the frantic. For color, spectacle, and sheer fun this Carmen will be difficult to equal.

The Met's Ring Production

For those who missed this season's Ring cycle at the Metropolitan Opera, take heart. You didn't miss much. Wagner's titanic four-part saga of the downfall of the gods in the Met's new production by Robert Lepage was a mostly depressing and vapid affair. It illustrates what can be accomplished when a virtually limitless budget is applied to realize a production that has no original ideas.

Wagner's great creation, of course, is mythical in conception and monumental in execution. Because it is mythical there is no reason for the Ring to be staged in the German woods and forests, even though the Rhine plays a central role in the tetralogy. The Rhine could be any river, and it is nonspecific to Germany. The Ring has been staged with great success in the forests of the American Northwest by the Seattle Opera, and less successfully by Francesca Zambello in the American West for the joint Washington/San Francisco production, among others.

Still, there must be some thought behind a production of the Ring other than "what can I do next with this absurd stage machinery that I have created?" Lepage's stage contraption, known to the Met's General Director Peter Gelb as "the Machine," is a collection of large panels that rotates and revolves on the same axis. The singers in the cast, whose primary job after all is to sing Wagner's stupendously difficult music, spend much of their time trying to avoid being flattened by the Machine.

Occasionally there are impressive moments, as when the gods cross the rainbow bridge to enter Valhalla at the conclusion of Das Rheingold or when Wotan and Loge descend into Nibelheim to confront Alberich and seize the ring of power. One of the great challenges in all opera is staging the end of the world that concludes Die Götterdämmerung. Lepage's realization of that cataclysmic event is so tepid, even foolish that the Met audience was left tittering at the absurdity of it.

The singing in the principal roles was adequate, which is accomplishment enough in this era so lacking in great Wagnerian voices. Still, the singers deserve great credit in making something musical out of the antics they were often asked to perform. Meriting special distinction were Stephanie Blythe's Fricka and Eric Owens' menacing, hate-filled Alberich. Bryn Terfel as Wotan and Deborah Voigt as Brünnhilde, although both are among our most distinguished singers, were simply miscast. Jonas Kaufmann may yet be one of our great Siegmunds, at least for those who remember Placido Domingo's peerless portrayal of that doomed character. The Met Orchestra played with distinction for Fabio Luisi, although the special fire that is lit in Wagner by James Levine was absent.

Some say this Ring was conceived by the Met with HD broadcast in mind. The New York critics seem generally to agree that this Ring was even less compelling in the theater than on the big screen. The Met's HD broadcasts present great promise for the company, but they also may put the in-house theatrical experience at risk.

This reviewer finds the Met in HD broadcasts generally unsatisfying, although for an out-of-towner, they are better than not being able to see the Met's productions at all. Next year is the Wagner bicentennial, and one can only hope that other companies with the resources to stage the Ring will do better than did the Met, even if they have fewer financial resources at their disposal. Come to think of it, maybe throwing fewer dollars at Lepage's Ring would have made it less undisciplined and ultimately more successful.

Verdi's Shakespeare

 Verdi's Shakespeare
Men of the Theater
Garry Willis
Viking Press

Historian Garry Wills' new book, Verdi’s Shakespeare, is a fascinating study of the Italian maestro’s lifelong love of the works of the great English playwright. Even though Verdi neither spoke nor read English (although his wife, the singer Giuseppina Strepponi knew English), he read the plays and poetry in Italian translation for pleasure throughout his long life (1813-1901).

The scholar and Verdi friend Italo Pizzi recounted that in 1883 Verdi told him that "Shakespeare . . . analyses the human mind so acutely and penetrates it so profoundly, that the words he puts into his characters' mouths are essentially human, essentially true, as they should be."

As a result of his study of Shakespeare’s plays, Verdi created three works of genius, Macbeth, Otello, and Falstaff, the last two among the greatest of all operatic works, and ushered in a new standard of truth and realism to the lyric stage.

It is Wills' central thesis that both Shakespeare and Verdi were men of the stage, who created their works for their own time, adapting them where necessary to the talents of the performers who were available to them. Verdi made this central fact of his artistic life explicit. After the triumph of Otello at its premiere (La Scala, Feb. 5, 1887), Verdi expressed his sadness to his friend and sometime collaborator Giuseppe Giacosa (as recounted in Marcello Conati, Encounters with Verdi (1984)). "How painful to have finished it! I shall now suffer such loneliness. Till now I used to wake each morning and return to the love, anger, jealousy, deceit of my characters. And I would say to myself: today I have this scene to compose, and if it did not proceed according to my wishes, I would arm myself for the struggle, confident of victory. . . I would arrive home, still excited by the glorious life of the theatre, happy at the goals I ad reached, thinking about those I intended reaching tomorrow, and I was not conscious of fatigue and I did not feel my age. But now? Since Otello now belongs to the public, it has ceased to be mine . . . I now feel an enormous void, which I think I shall never be able to fill."

Shakespeare needed to be mindful of the economics of his theater, so many of his players were expected to play more than one part to economize on actors' fees. So he carefully arranged their exits and entrances, providing ample opportunity for costume and scene changes. By the time of Otello Verdi was world famous and could command the resources he required. But at the time of Macbeth’s premiere in 1847, Verdi was limited by the resources of the commissioning theater, the Teatro alla Pergola in Florence.

He did not have available a first-class tenor, so the only major tenor role, Macduff, has only one aria, Ah, la paterno mano, although being Verdi, it is very fine. He did have available the finest baritone in Italy, Felice Varesi, for his Macbetto. He wanted the excellent soprano Sophia Löwe, but she was unavailable, recovering from an abortion. Instead Marianna Barbieri-Ninni, a fine singer, was cast as his Lady. She had the virtue (for Verdi) of being spectacularly unattractive visually, but she could sing Lady Macbeth's music with the kind of menace and coarseness that Verdi wanted in the role.

Verdi’s Shakespeare is written in Wills’ typically graceful style. Reading it will reward lovers of the works of both great artists and casual opera fans as well. Although the book reflects considerable scholarship on Wills' part, it is no turgid work of academic prose. Instead it can be read for pleasure and can only enhance our enjoyment of Verdi’s great operas, even as we regret that Verdi never accomplished the one unfulfilled dream of his career–Il re Lear.

The Gergiev Phenomonon

Valery Gergiev, born in Moscow in 1953, the year of Stalin's death, is one of the most sought-after conductors in the world. He is currently the Director of the Mariinsky Theater in St. Petersburg (home to the Kirov Opera and Ballet), Principal Conductor of the Rotterdam Philharmonic, and Principal Guest Conductor of the Metropolitan Opera. He is equally at home in the operatic and orchestral repertoire.

He has taken his Orchestra of the Mariinsky Theater on tour around the world, including to New York, the Salzburg Festival, and venues in between. He is sovereign in the Russian repertoire. Those who heard him conduct Prokofiev's War and Peace at the Met will not soon forget his mastery of that sprawling score. His Kirov Opera has been an incubator for excellent Russian singers who have gone on to have international careers, such as Anna Netrebko, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Olga Borodina, and many others.

For several years he brought the Kirov Opera on tour to Washington's Kennedy Center, where he presented the staples of the Russian repertoire and several operas by Verdi, with whose works he is associated, among others. In particular I recall a memorable Boris Godunov on a snowy night in Washington, but particularly compelling was a concert performance of Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk by his countryman Dmitri Shostakovich that blazed with intensity. On the flip side of the coin, his reading of Rossini's Il viaggio a Reims was a dull, leaden affair, with none of the life and sparkle associated with Rossini.

The Kirov has released a number of his recordings on its house label, Mariinsky Records, including a highly acclaimed recent release of Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor, featuring Natalie Dessay, and a just released recording of Massenets' Don Quichotte, with Ferruccio Furlanetto. Gergiev had not previously been associated with either work, but both readings bear his unique stamp.

Gergiev maintains such a punishing international schedule that sometimes his performances betray incomplete preparation. I recall an indifferent run-through of Prokofiev's Fifth Symphony in Salzburg that was followed by a compelling performance of Moussorgsky's Songs and Dances of Death with Yevgeny Nikitin. Gergiev was thoroughly involved, and it showed. Gergiev's style is to linger over passages he especially admires, but he has a way of generating tremendous momentum to close acts and symphonic movements. Some listeners find his conducting ponderous and erratic, but I think his performances can be among the most dramatic of any conductor's, particularly when he is conducting his own orchestra, which he rules absolutely.

Gergiev and James Levine are unique among today's star globetrotting conductors in that they have chosen to remain with and build a single company and its orchestra. As a result the Met Orchestra and the Kirov Orchestra are among the best orchestras in the world in their chosen repertoire. Both Levine and Gergiev love and admire the music of Richard Wagner, and Gergiev's recent recording of Parsifal with Gary Lehman, Violetta Urmana, and Rene Pape will provide fuel for both Gergiev's detractors and admirers. I find that the performance has an inner passion that is compelling in its intensity, plus the recording quality is first-rate. Alas, Lehman does not bear comparison with Placido Domingo, the best Parsifal I have heard on the stage.

Watch for Gergiev's performances on WTJU's Sunday Opera Matinee. You can see the schedule of upcoming presentations at our website, wtju.net.

Guilty Pleasures at the Operas

On Sunday, February 26, at 2 P.M. our Sunday Opera Matinee resumes after the conclusion of our Rock Marathon that achieved fundraising wonders for WTJU. We will be presenting Umberto Giordano's Andrea Chenier (1896), a perennial audience favorite.

Chenier is one of those operas that is beloved of audiences but deprecated by critics. Giordano (1867-1948) was possessed of limited compositional skills. But he knew a good story when he encountered one in the life of the Parisian poet and patriot André Chenier, who was a victim of the French Revolution. The background for the libretto by Luigi Illica could hardly be more compelling, and it lent itself to the operatic style known as verismo. In the late 19th and early 20th Centuries composers such as Ponchielli, Mascagni, Puccini, and Giordano set their tales of dramatic, often violent confrontation in the gritty conflicts of ordinary people taken from daily life.

The vocal score features great moments for the three principal characters, the tenor Chenier, the soprano Maddalena, and the baritone Gérard. Un di all'azzuro spazio, La mamma morta, and Nemico della Patria are well known to all opera lovers. The rousing finale when Chenier and Maddalena go off to face the guillotine together, if sung by the right heroic voices, is guaranteed to bring any audience cheering to its feet as the final curtain falls.

Chenier is an irresistible role for tenors with big, Italianate voices. The role has been sung by the greats: Caruso, Tamagno, Pertile, Martinelli, Lauri-Volpi, Corelli, Tucker, del Monaco, Domingo, and Pavarotti, to name just a few. When paired with del Monaco, a young Renata Tebaldi was unforgettable as Maddalena.



Although somewhat out of fashion today (we hardly have the voices to do the principal roles justice), Chenier is among those operas like Faust, Adriana Lecouvreur, and Cavalleria Rusticana that will remain in the repertoire so long as opera audiences love great singing and a heavy dose of melodrama.

Tune in this Sunday. It may not be Mozart, but you will hear some great singing.

Letter From Salzburg

The 2011 Salzburg Festival, July 27-Aug. 30, was the usual combination of outstanding musical performances and high society. This writer attended performances from Aug. 20-28. The project to reroof the Felsenreitschule has been concluded, and the hall is an acoustic and visual wonder. Few performance halls in the world have such an impressive entrance area. Verdi's Macbeth was the featured event in an attractive, if conventional production conducted by Riccardo Muti.

Among the highlights from performances of about a week were Janacek's The Makropoulos Case, starring Angela Denoke, who just about owns the role of Emilia Marty. Anna Netrebko has become a Salzburg favorite, and she did not disappoint in a concert performance of Tchaikovsky's Iolanta, which was paired with Stravinsky's Le Rossignol. Netrebko and Polish star tenor Pyotr Beczala had the Grosses Festspielhaus audience in a frenzy after their passionate performance of the love duet that is the highlight of Iolanta.

One of the guest orchestras this year was the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by its recently designated music director, Riccardo Muti. In two concerts the highlights were Parts I and II of Prokofiev's suite from Romeo et Juliette and Shostakovich's Fifth Symphony. It is always interesting to compare and contrast the guest orchestras to the plush, warm string sound of the Vienna Philharmonic, which summers at the Salzburg Festival as the pit orchestra for most operas.

Muti's performances with Chicago were razor-sharp, every detail in place, and no nuance left unexplored. The legendary Chicago brass has lost none of the brilliance for which it has been justly renowned since Fritz Reiner's time. Muti's Shostakovich was in the triumphant mode, as contrasted with Valery Gergiev's angry, bitter, bleak rendition of the work heard three years ago in Salzburg with his Mariinsky Orchestra.

No praise is too high for the stupendous playing of the Vienna Philharmonic and inspired conducting of Christian Thielemann in Richard Strauss's Die Frau ohne Schatten, which overcame even the odd staging by Christof Loy. Anne Schwanewilms was not a particularly inspired Empress, but the stage was dominated by the heroic voice of Evelyn Herlitzius as the Dyer's Wife. Michaela Schuster as the Nurse, Wolfgang Koch as a sympathetic Barak, and Stephen Gould as the Emperor all sang capably. Surely the score could not be better played or conducted.

Another Salzburg favorite is Maurizio Pollini, who is programming and recording the Beethoven sonatas. In the Grosses Festspielhaus he played the sonatas Op. 54, 53, 78, and 57. His playing still has the pristine clarity, dignified phrasing, and immaculate musicianship that make his performances legendary. The passage work was flawless, the pedaling was subtle, and his conception of the works was logical and inspired. The performance of the Appassionata in particular bore comparison to any other heard by this writer.

Overall, it was a great Festival. I can hardly wait until 2012.

Review: Farinelli the composer

Farinelli: The Composer  
Jorg Washchinski, male soprano
Salburger Hofmusik; Wolfgang Brunner, conductor 
New Classical Adventure

“Farinelli the composer” is a fascinating release. Carlo Broschi (AKA Farinelli) was – by all accounts – the greatest castrato opera singer of his day, and perhaps of all time. But because Farinelli conquered the stage 200 hears before sound recording technology, we only have contemporary descriptions of his voice to judge the extent of his talent.

Fortunately, in addition to being a singer, Farinelli was also a composer. Like many virtuosos of his day, he wrote music exclusively for his own  performances -- primarily arias. Baroque opera singers were expected to improvise around the written score, and Farinelli was no exception. Of course, such improvisations are ephemeral. But just as a Miles Davis composition can provide insight into his improvisational style, so too does Farinelli’s arias give us a better idea of what his voice was capable of, and how he was likely to improvise in performance.

The arias on this release are of great historical interest, which is not to say they’re without compositional merit. Even though the orchestrations are run-of-the-mill, Farinelli was a better than average composer with a real gift for melody (not surprisingly). The vocal lines he wrote for himself are full of unusual twists, turns, and leaps that could trip up a lesser singer.

Sopranist Jorg Waschinski is more than equal to the task, and does an outstanding job with this material. No matter how talented the countertenor, the range is always a little more constrained than that of a true castrato. Nevertheless, Waschinski soars through the upper register seemingly without effort, delivering a clear, full-voiced sound.

If you’ve seen the movie “Farinelli” then you know of the man’s reputation. But the voice you heard was a digital blend of different singers. In this release you hear an actual singer delivering Farinelli’s music to the best of his formidable ability. And the humanity of  Waschinski's voice makes all the difference.

Although we can never really know what Farinelli sounded like, this recording of his music brings us a little bit closer.

Highly recommended for anyone interested in Baroque or Classical era opera.

Review: Julia Lezhneva - a fresh, new voice

It is always a pleasure to hear a new and exciting voice. Julia Lezhneva, Dame Kiri Te Kanawa's 21 year-old protégé, has made her debut recital recording for the French label Naïve. The Sinfonia Varsovia is conducted by Marc Minkowski in six arias by Rossini. Lezhneva had been professionally performing since the age of 16 and won the Elena Obraztsova International Competition for young singers in 2007. She opened the Rossini Opera Festival alongside Juan Diego Flórez in 2008 and has given solo concerts at the Salzburg Festival.

As might be expected from a singer so young, the voice is fresh and commendably flexible. What cannot be determined is how large the voice is and whether it will show to good effect in the world's major opera houses. On this recital disc, the singing is uniformly excellent. Although the arias are for the most part taken from the mezzo repertoire, Lezhneva is a true soprano. Her voice is most effective in the middle to upper middle register. She has first-class technique and a winning style that serves her well in this repertoire. What is most striking is the musical maturity with which the arias are presented. The first cut, Tanti effetti from "La donna del lago," is particularly effective. Throughout the recital, trills, staccati, and other coloratura effects are immaculately executed.

Minkowski's conducting is supportive and flexible, but he never loses the pulse of the music. The playing of the Sinfonia Varsovia is also uniformly of high quality. The orchestral support in Rossini's Willow Song from "Otello" is especially sympathetic. As always, Naïve's digital sound is bright and clear, without the glare and etching that often makes digital sound so tiring. All in all, this disc introduces an exciting new artist.

Look to hear her on the Sunday Opera Matinee's post-Rossini opera feature. Check the schedule of upcoming operas at wtju.net. Click on the link to the Sunday Opera Matinee schedule.

#Operaplot 2011 -- the contest begins!

If you're an opera lover -- and have a Twitter account -- you can do something constructive with your time and enter the #Operaplot contest. If you're an opera lover, and don't have a Twitter account, then you open a Twitter account (it's free) and then enter the #Operaplot contest.

What is it?
#Operaplot is a yearly contest where the challenge is to sum up the plot of an opera in 140 characters (actually, 131 because you must include the hashtag #operaplot in the tweet). The goal is to create the wittiest summation possible. The contest is run by classical music blogger "the Omniscient Mussel," (in reality renowned music writer and photographer Marcia Adair), and kudos to you if you know from what opera Miss Mussel gets her online name.

Why bother?
Two reasons:

1. #Operaplot has a pretty impressive prize pool. Several major and regional opera companies have donated tickets, and EMI will be offering up some suitable CDs and DVDs as well. Your wit might get you into a performance of Iphigenie en Tauride at the Washington National Opera with Placido Domingo, for example.
2. #Operaplot is great fun. The reason the hashtag is required is that using the pound sign with a letter combination makes it a link. So if you receive a tweet with #operaplot in it, you can click on it and see what everyone else has contributed. 

When does it start?
The contest runs between April 11 and April 15, 2011, so you have (as of this writing) until Monday to think up your entries. I already have my first two ready to go.

 Last year I was one of the runners-up -- and won a complete set of Mozart operas for my trouble. You can bet I'll be entering this year as well. Come join the fun!

What Makes a Good Opera?

What makes a good opera? Most of my non-classical friends would dispute that there's any such thing, but we'll let that pass.

The question arose yesterday when I revisited a work I hadn't listened to in a while: Franz Joseph Haydn's opera Il Mondo della Luna. Most people don't think of Haydn as an opera composer, but he wrote thirteen of them -- most for private performance at the Esterhazy estate.



While most people aren't even aware of Haydn's operatic output, those that are tend to dismiss it. The general opinion is that, compared to those of his younger contemporary and friend, Mozart, Haydn's works simply don't measure up. Some might say they're not even on par with those of Gluck, who was writing similar type works for larger audiences in Vienna (some of which have entered the repertoire).



I thought about all of that as I listened to Il mondo della luna. The first time I played the recording, I dutifully followed along with the libretto, and I can see the validity of the criticism. Like most of Haydn's operas, Il mondo della luna is basically a series of set pieces. There's an aria, then a duo, then a chorus, then another aria, etc. What's missing is any kind of dramatic impetus that drives the story along. That lack of drama keeps the opera from feeling organic.

In an Mozart opera (or others considered first-rate), there's a dramatic reason why the heroine sings an aria here, and then a chorus responds there. The audience is pulled along, carried by not only the beauty of the music, but the motion of the story as it unfolds.

So am I wasting my time listening to Haydn's operas? Hardly. While it may not work as a dramatic piece, it's still music by Haydn. So it's witty, charming, sophisticated, and well-crafted (as I believe these YouTube videos illustrate).

Yesterday I had to spend a lot of time concentrating on a big project, and Il mondo della luna made a nice accompaniment to my work. I don't speak Italian, so I couldn't hear how absurd/lame the libretto actually was. All I heard was one lovely melody after another.

And really, is that so bad?

How We Program the Sunday Opera Matinee

Longtime listeners to WTJU's Sunday Opera Matinee ask us, "How do you decide what to program?" Our signature is programming unfamiliar works, sometimes by unfamiliar composers. We tend to limit the number of works from the standard repertoire because opera lovers can see those works on stage, either live or via broadcast, fairly frequently. The world's major opera companies tend to program works from the standard repertoire because those are the works that sell the most tickets. Moreover, singers are reluctant to learn new roles for the stage of works that are unlikely to be staged elsewhere. We are not constrained by having millions of dollars of costs, both fixed and operating, as major opera companies are. So we take advantage of the flexibility to present lesser known works.

The paramount consideration in the programming decision is whether our listeners will enjoy and appreciate the work and the performance. There is no point in programming a performance of any work that is dull, unimaginative, or poorly performed, especially if the work has little to recommend it musically. Given the choice between programming Bizet's Les Pêcheurs de Perles (The Pearl Fishers) or Carmen, we tend to favor The Pearl Fishers, not because it is a better work than Carmen (far from it!), but because many of our listeners will get to hear this work for the first and perhaps the only time. But we will only program The Pearl Fishers when we can find a performance that merits being programmed.

Sometimes we like to introduce listeners to a composer whose works have been largely forgotten. An example is Eugen D'Albert's Tiefland. The work is unique in being the only example of German verismo opera that remains in the repertoire. D'Albert is a largely forgotten composer, but Tiefland remains tenuously in the repertoire, especially in Germany, and it needs to be heard and appreciated more widely.

Some works, despite their musical and/or dramatic flaws, are redeemed by a great performance. Massenet's Esclarmonde, while not the composer's best work, was taken up and recorded by the great Joan Sutherland. Hearing her sing this music about as well as it can be sung merits its being programmed and enjoyed by a wider audience.

Occasionally we encounter a work, either in a staged performance or in a recording, that is so compelling that we must program it, even if it is not familiar to most opera lovers. The live recording of Wagner's early opera Rienzi from Munich with Rene Kollo in the title role and Wolfgang Sawallisch conducting is so compelling that it cried out to be programmed. Deutsche Oper Berlin's production from 2009-10 was so good that we just had to share this flawed but compelling work with those of our listeners who could not see the production live.

Occasionally we will get a request from a listener that inspires a programming decision. A listener asked to hear the great 1953 recording of Tosca with Maria Callas in the title role. We are never jaded, but sometimes we overlook recordings of works that are familiar to us, but that will be heard by many listeners for the first time. Everyone must hear (and see) La Bohème for the first time, not to mention hear Callas sing for the first time.

We do not just program our favorite performances of best-loved works (we went through all of them years ago!), but we do program performances that both entertain and inspire. It takes a lot of work to prepare a presentation for broadcast, but nothing could be more fulfilling than to have a listener tell us how much he or she appreciated being introduced to a new work or a new performance. We've been doing that for two decades, so tune in on Sunday afternoons at 2 P.M. and enjoy! If you have a suggestion or comment, don't hesitate to call us when we are on the air at 924-3959 or email wtju@virginia.edu. Our Sunday Opera Matinee schedule may be found at our website, wtju.net.