Opera, music, theater, and art in Los Angeles and beyond
The Bitter End
May 02, 2012
Matthias Goerne Photo: Marco BorggreveAfter his appearances two weeks ago with Christoph Eschenbach and the Los Angeles Philhamronic, my hopes were quite high for Matthias Goerne’s continued tour of America, which ended up at Carnegie Hall on Tuesday. I was particularly interested to hear Goerne again so soon because he was working this time both with a different collaborator, pianist Leif Ove Andsnes, and with different material. Gone was Schubert’s brand of lush, melancholic Romanticism in favor of something even darker yet. The program on Tuesday was rather ambitious overall combining a mixture of songs from Gustav Mahler with those from the very latest part of the career of Dmitri Shostakovich. And while these are not names that always travel side-by-side, Goerne and Andsnes made the parallels clear. The pair hand picked songs from many sources including Des Knaben Wunderhorn, Rückert-Lieder, and Kindertotenlieder and integrated them with thematically parallel songs from the 20th-century Russian giant's late songs, all setting of the poems of Michelangelo Buonarroti. The songs were arranged by theme with Mahler and Shostakovich trading off one song to the next as opposed to more traditional blocks for each composer.
Of course this set up an alternate meta-narrative for the evening that went from somber to downright wrist-slittingly morbid. Death was in the air for these songs. But what started out in a similar vein to that Schubert melancholy with works like Mahler’s “Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen” and Shostakovich’s “Separation”, turned slowly but surely to some of each composer’s most brutal and even angry works that minced no words about the bleak brutality of death from Shostakovich’s “Death” to Mahler’s “Revelge” and “Der Tamboursg’sell,” two late additions to his Das Knaben Wunderhorn. These rhythmic, militaristic sounding songs about dying soldiers and a drummer boy on his way to the gallows provided a different challenge for Goerne and Andsnes that was more about drama and less about beautiful finesse.
Certainly the intensity of all this was quite high. Goerne is a master Lieder performer and all the beautiful tone and superb phrasing and breath control on display before was there again. Granted, the Shostakovich selections, although well sung, paled in comparison to Goerne’s mastery of the German Lieder. And Andsnes had no trouble accessing the sardonic jocularity of the Russian works. But the Shostakovich pieces seemed more deliberate and planned in contrast. And given that they traded off with the Mahler songs sometimes the line of the show could be lost. Of course, the performers seemed to have some notion of the tough ending of this program and offered Beethoven's “An die Hoffnung” as a hopeful postscript in the encore. It was a nice gesture from Andsnes and Goerne following a recital that left no question about their artistry or ability to put together an interesting and thoughtful program. Even if, thematically, it could be a little tough going and wasn’t the feel good hit of the season.
Recently it was announced that pianist Maurizio Pollini would be canceling his spring engagements in the U.S due to illness including two solo performances at Carnegie Hall as well as others in conjunction with the Philadelphia Orchestra. Carnegie Hall sent out a notice notifying ticket holders of the cancellations on Wednesday noting that replacement performers had been found for all the scheduled appearances including the solo recitals. I had purchased tickets to one of those two solo recitals and was surprised to learn that Carnegie Hall did not plan to offer the possibility of a refund for those particular engagements and I tweeted about it. Then, Carnegie Hall responded and invited me to contact them.
I decided to do so as they suggested and thought I'd share my note to them with you as well. In the world of performing arts, we've all learned that what you're promised and what you get in a particular performance can often be very different. And I think most audience members have a really high tolerance and understanding for cancellations and substitutions - we're all human. But there are situations where audiences begin to feel taken advantage of, and I think this qualifies as one of them.
To Whom It May Concern:
Thanks for the response to my tweet from Wednesday concerning the cancelled Maurizio Pollini solo piano recital at Carnegie Hall on Sunday, April, 29. One hundred forty characters isn’t really enough to have much of a conversation, so as you suggested I’m sending you this note which I’m also posting on my site. I’m sorry to hear that Mr. Pollini is ill, and wish him a speedy recovery. It is always disappointing for everyone involved when artists are forced to cancel appearances in any setting, but we are all human and not machines which is part of what makes live performance so unique, exciting, and special as I’m sure you’ll agree. It’s also great that Carnegie Hall was able to recruit other superb artists to take over for Mr. Pollini’s upcoming appearances in New York. I was pleased to hear in the official notification I received from Carnegie Hall today, that pianist Garrick Ohlsson had kindly agreed to perform a recital in Mr. Pollini’s absence on short notice and that the performance will include a similar all-Liszt program. Mr. Ohlsson is a world-class performer and I’m sure he’ll give a wonderful performance.
However, as a ticket holder for the original event, I was disappointed and surprised to find that Carnegie Hall offered few options to current ticket holders for the performance in the wake of the cancellation and change in the scheduled offering. I had contacted the Carnegie Hall box office after being notified about the change on April 4 and was told that exchanges of my tickets were being offered for other performances within the same piano recital series, but that no refunds were being offered. In my opinion, such a stand is a clear sign of disrespect to the Carnegie Hall audience.
I have no objection at all to Mr. Ohlsson or the replacement program offered in Mr. Pollini's absence. What I do have a concern about is that the substitute performance on offer is significantly changed over what was originally advertised and sold to ticket buyers. Certainly substitutions are always to be expected in all areas of the performing arts. Conductors may not appear as scheduled with orchestras, vocal artists may change in an opera, and soloists in a larger music program are often substituted for a variety of reasons. It is understandable why a performing arts organization could not take an economic loss on a performance after a big star cancels when dozens of other artists have been involved in a concert or opera for weeks of preparation prior to an unexpected change. However, I think there is a difference between one or even a few artists being replaced in a performance that involves dozens and dozens of others and a solo piano recital where the only person scheduled to perform is the only one who won't be there regardless of the quality of the substitution.
When almost nothing about the originally billed performance remains the same, including none of the originally announced artists, the change is not so much of a substitution, but a completely different offering. Of course not offering a refund in this specific situation is certainly within Carnegie Hall’s right to do. As with all ticket purchases for live performance, ticket buyers like myself know clearly that artists and programs are subject to change without notice and adequate warnings are given about the impossibility of refunds or exchanges in such an event. But while substituting the sole performer in a performance while not offering ticket holders a refund option may be within a presenter’s rights to do, it certainly isn’t the right thing to do.
I’m not writing because I personally am concerned about the money I spent on these tickets. I am writing and posting this letter because I feel that not offering ticket holders in this instance a full range of options to change their plans, including both exchanges and refunds, is disrespectful and raises questions about the organization’s overall commitment to audiences through customer service. I wish you all the best with the upcoming recital and the rest of the season and look forward to many future evenings at Carnegie Hall when visiting New York.
Pierre Boulez, Deborah Polaski, and the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra Photo: mine 2010
A final footnote to the Metropolitan Opera’s 09/10 season occurred on Sunday with a bit of a consolation prize. One of the biggest successes of last season was an import of the spectacular production of Janacek’s From the House of the Dead by Patrice Chéreau that had previously appeared to acclaim in several locations in Europe. The Met had gone to great trouble to bring the production largely intact to its stage, but failed to persuade the original conductor, Pierre Boulez, to travel to New York for the run and to make his debut with the company. It all worked out for the best, though, in that Esa-Pekka Salonen was recruited as Boulez’ replacement to great fanfare. But, Boulez did finally make his company debut after all this season in a concert Sunday with the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra at Carnegie Hall. And while it certainly wasn’t the equivalent of hearing him lead this world class orchestra in the pit, it was a great show and a sad reminder of what this particular company had missed out on by not getting a commitment for his services at some earlier point in his long and illustrious career.
The program began with Bartók’s music for the ballet The Wooden Prince. Bartók isn’t best remembered for ballet music and this is far from the tradition established by the likes of Tchaikovsky. It’s an often dark piece with Bartók’s usual folk music-inspired infusions. Boulez brought out the most modern details in the piece in a sound from the orchestra that was big and very warm. That the Met Orchestra is one of the world’s best is no surprise, but hearing them on stage in this context (where they appear three times a season) is always a refreshing reminder of their power. The ballet’s plot concerns a love between a prince and princess which is thwarted by a jealous fairy who sends a wooden replica of the prince to the princess in his stead. The princess falls for the facsimile at first, but everything has a happy ending. Boulez understands restraint in the context of big and dramatic gestures, a lesson still lost more often than not on younger generations of conductors.
Given these themes about illusions of love, Boulez couldn’t have selected a more appropriate 20th-century counterpart than he did with a concert version of Schoenberg’s Erwartung. This 12-tone monodrama for soprano and orchestra deals with a young woman who has gone to meet her lover. When he doesn’t arrive, she wanders the forest looking for him and eventually becomes convinced she has found his dead body. The soloist was Deborah Polaski who sounded perfectly respectable here if a little detached in the first half of the work. Boulez and the orchestra again gave a fantastically detailed and caring performance of a piece almost too dense to easily consider in its brief 30 minutes. It was more than enough, though, to convey the contradictions and riddles of perception inherent in the work. The Met Orchestra’s time with Boulez was all too brief overall, and while it was sad to think about all the music that could have been made between them, it was wonderful to have this.
My recent weekend in New York ended with a concert from the world-class Metropolitan Opera Orchestra at Carnegie Hall under James Levine. It was a bit of an Oreo cookie of an afternoon – a familiar favorite whose best part was a delicious center part. Bookended by Schubert’s unfinished Eighth symphony and Beethoven’s Fifth which closed the program was a wonderful mini-recital from soprano Diana Damrau. She appeared in the crazy patchwork gown she wears on the cover of her latest recording “Coloraturas” and she focused on material that spectacularly showed off her adept acrobatics. She started off with eight familiar Strauss Lieder including “Morgen!” and “Das Bächlein”. She gave intense and thoughtful readings of both and closed the set eventually with “Amor,” which more prominently featured the vocal acrobatics she’s readily capable of. This was all prelude, however, to Zerbinetta’s aria from Ariadne auf Naxos which she dispatched with real humor and lightheartedness mixed with real power and control. She was clearly having a great time and the audience shared it with a huge ovation. She came back on stage several times afterward and then gave a true encore singing the last portion of the aria again, clearly hamming it up with Levine perched on his stool nearby. It was lovely in just about every way and an expert bit of cross promotion for the opera. The Met will be opening Ariadne next week and while Damrau will not be in it, she will be singing Marie in La Fille du Regiment with Juan Diego Florez as she takes over for Nathalie Dessay in the Laurent Pelly production that was so warmly received everywhere. As much as I like Dessay, Damrau is fairly spectacular in this production, which she gave a test run in San Francisco to loving audiences last Fall. (And as an extra bonuse, Meredith Arwady who played the Marquise de Berkenfield in San Francisco will be returning the the Met stage in this revival as well. She's great.)
But back to the rest of the cookie. Levine and the Met Orchestra can pull out the drama in a flowing and smooth production with ease, and both the Schubert and Beethoven got the full body workout. The Schubert fared better and was rather lush. The Beethoven, however, was decidedly overcooked with big gestures drowning out any detail. It was not an inappropriate approach, but not the most convincing one. It’s always great to hear the Met Orchestra play music that they don’t get to do everyday even when it’s familiar to the audience. But it’s hard to deny the orchestra’s strong suit and even here, it was the relationship with a vocalist that showed the group off in the best light.
Christian Franz and Katarina Dalayman Photo: Marty Sohl/Met Opera 2009
I escaped from New York on Sunday following the final night of the Metropolitan Opera’s second complete Ring cycle for the season. And while my escape was nothing akin to, say, the Von Trapp family, I nonetheless feel I’ve emerged feeling slightly less transformed than oppressed. But there it was—Götterdämmerung in all its slow, methodical six hour glory. Now I’m not one to complain about slow and deliberate on most occasions, but I have to admit the James Levine approach had begun to wear on me a little by the end. At times I wanted to scream, “please can we just get on with it.” It’s a legitimate, well-reasoned and—at times—beautiful approach to Wagner, but honestly not one that’s to my taste. Most of the cast continued to prove that they could handle this material though stamina continued to be an issue at times. Christian Franz, the Siegfried, came off better here than Thursday with a little bit less on his plate and sounded believable throughout. Katarina Dalayman was back after the night off from Siegfried for more trouble in strife. I thought she sounded pretty damn good in Act II when it was all about the rage. However, she petered out by Act III creating a very lackluster immolation scene. I felt she was inaudible through some of this and was clearly in the position of being led by the orchestra than having it the other way around. She received at least one string of loud boos from somebody upstairs with something to prove. The most heroic figure was John Tomlinson as Hagen. He was menacing and somehow avoided looking too cartoonish amidst this large carnival attraction of a staging. Everyone else was just fine and dandy.
I think Act II may have been the single most successful act of the whole cycle. It seemed to be the one time where everyone was in quite reasonable voice, there was very little silliness for them to have to chew their way through on stage, and for one brief shining moment, there was enough light cast on the stage to see what was happening. Darkness was probably preferable in Act III as the Gibichung’s hall collapsed in the final moments of the opera in that rickety controlled way that things on stage do. Still, it was a Ring cycle and, all in all, Wagner’s masterpiece can’t be ignored in all of this. It is still a rather unique experience and even under these non-ideal circumstances, I can’t say that I didn’t enjoy it. Even if the world did end with a bit more whimper than bang.
Simon Rattle, Thomas Quasthoff, Magdalena Kozena and the Philadelphia Orchestra Photo: mine 2009
Transfiguration could be had in New York over the weekend, however, and at decidedly lower rates than Wagner’s Ring cycle. It had to be brought up from Philadelphia, of all places, to Carnegie Hall where the Philadelphia Orchestra made one of their frequent guest appearances with a performance of Berlioz’ La Damnation de Faust. The real kicker here was a cast of guest performers to be envied by anyone – guest conductor Simon Rattle led Thomas Quasthoff, Eric Owens, Gregory Kunde, and Magdalena Kozena. Who needed La Cenerentola over at the Met on Friday night with that line-up? It was an excellent performance especially coming on the heels of the Met’s own excellently staged production of this work just last Fall. The Philadelphians have taken a lot of bruising in the press over the last few years, but you wouldn’t have known it on Friday. How much of this was Rattle’s guidance was unclear, but it was a bright, festive, and often urgent performance. Quasthoff proved as interesting a performer as ever giving a marauding and sly Mephistopheles. With a much smoother line overall, Kunde was a marked improvement over Marcello Giordani, who was the Met’s Faust. He did struggle with some of the high notes, but seemed less strained to my memory. Kozena has been sick this week and performed with a “please excuse me” announcement. Even though her illness was apparent on both the high and low ends, she still sounds better than half the mezzos I can think of in this part. The sheer intensity she mustered even in this state was evident to everyone in the room. It was a great evening of music and quite a nice bit of energy amidst a week of Wagnerian histrionics.
Follow Along
Brian
Los Angeles
Follow me on Twitter