Out West Arts: Performance at the end of the world

Renée Fleming and cast in Armida
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2010

Poor Mary Zimmerman. The theater director just can’t seem to catch a break at the Metropolitan Opera where her third production for the house, Rossini’s Armida just closed out the 09/10 season there last Saturday. Railing on her work has become a favorite pastime for all sorts of folks on the internets, though to be honest, her productions have been much better than she’s given credit for. It hasn’t helped of course that the three works she’s been asked to direct have included two extremely weak operas to begin with, Armida and last season’s La Sonnambula. (The other was Lucia di Lammermoor) Armida is the weakest of her productions for the Met and seems to have a distinct shortage of the vision thing. Given the slings and arrows she may have suffered after La Sonnambula she may have elected to scale back to something a little more digestible to a local audience weened on decades of musty old “magic”. (Of course this was all before Luc Bondy's production of Tosca for the Met in September 09 raised the bar for histrionic consternation at the house.)

Armida takes place exclusively in a semicircular rotunda with a few strategically placed turquoise palm trees or giant tropical birds once in awhile to distinguish one scene from the next. There are occasional fits of whimsy, like a ladybug that crawls along the top of the rotunda walls in Act III, but they tend to be more cloying than charming. The plot is mostly nonsense that sounds more 18th than 19th century and concerns a sorceress who feels the conflicting tug of desires for revenge against a group of paladins and her love for their leader. Things develop on an ad hoc basis from there, but perhaps the biggest stumbling bloc in this revival was the decision to leave the large second act ballet intact dragging the light fare of the rest of the show into an evening of over four hours with very little pay off.

This was a star vehicle of course. But oddly enough it turned out to be less of one for Renée Fleming, for whom it was mounted, and more of one for Lawrence Brownlee, an increasingly important player in the Met's tenor ranks. He sang beautifully and out maneuvered Fleming vocally a number of times calling to mind favorable comparisons to people like Juan Diego Florez. Oh sure there are situations in other works where he couldn't hold a candle to her, but bel canto is still not Fleming's strong suit.

Despite this disappointment at the end of the year though, I still felt that this was a very satisfying Met Opera season. I know it is increasingly fashionable on the East Coast to get all Chicken Little on Peter Gelb and his leadership. Everybody wants to take a pot shot from the keen financial analysts at Vanity Fair to overeager commentators around every corner upset when they aren't enthralled by each and every new production to reach the Met stage. Even Alex Ross got in the act in the Spring by expressing less confidence in Gelb's management after his disappointment in the lack of accessible humanistic content in the company's newest productions. (This seems a particular preoccupation of East Coast critics.) What's a general manager to do? Stick by your guns that's what. Things are better artistically at the Met Opera now than they have been for quite awhile and Gelb is largely to thank for that. The new productions are no more or less "successful" than they were a decade ago and there is now at least some semblance of awareness of music and theater history of the last half-century. Things may not be to everyone's taste - they never will. But it's delusional to think the company is in worse shape now than it has been after years if not decades of artistic stagnation. I for one will be back on several occasions next year.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10

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.

Labels: Carnegie Hall, Met opera reviews 09/10

Marlis Petersen as Lulu
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2010

I know I’m late to the party. In fact, as of this writing the Metropolitan Opera’s 09/10 season is officially one for the history books. Nonetheless, I traveled out to New York this weekend to catch the last few performances before the summer break and maybe to reflect on things more broadly if I feel like it. The first night was a rocky one and probably one of the worst things I've seen at the Met all season. In a season where Wagner was almost completely absent, the recently closed revival of Der Fliegende Holländer was doing no one any favors. Virtually nothing worked well from the super-dull production, to Kazushi Ono’s conducting, to the vocal performance. The single bright spot in Thursday’s final performance was tenor Russell Thomas’ turn as the Steersman. He was as fresh and exciting as I remember from appearances in Adams’ The Flowering Tree and I wished he'd had more to do in Wagner’s sea epic. The big star, of course, was Deborah Voigt as Senta, and she did give a competent and solid performance if it was marked at times by some shrillness. Her acting is still very convincing, but she had little help from her male counterparts. Juha Uusitalo was about as distant and uninvolved in his performance as the Dutchman as anyone I can think of in any role in the last year, though Philip Webb’s Erik was pretty stiff competition for the title. Ono’s conducting seemed uncertain throughout, and the lack of musical continuity made the cramped and overly snowy quarters of August Everding’s 1989 production even more claustrophobic. You know it’s bad when you sit there wishing you were watching Jake Heggie’s Moby-Dick again.

Deborah Voigt as Senta
Photo: Cory Weaver/Met Opera 2010

Things markedly improved on Saturday, though, with the last of three performances of Berg’s Lulu conducted by the Metropolitan Opera’s new principal guest conductor Fabio Luisi, who was filling in for the ailing James Levine. He gave a lovely reading of the score with the orchestra. (You can never go wrong musically with someone who loves pugs.) The big star here was the Lulu of the moment, Marlis Petersen, who gave as rich and poignant a performance as she had in Chicago in 2008. She dominates the stage, as she should, and manages the physicality of the part very well. Her supporting cast were all quite reasonable, including the woefully underutilized Michael Schade who I’d love to hear in America more often. James Morris sang Dr. Schön and though he’s a little long in the tooth vocally speaking, he could be creepy at times. Anne Sofie von Otter, another vocalist who is trying to find her place in a new decade of her career, sang Countess Geschwitz with a lot of sympathy and not too much gravel. Gary Lehman’s Alwa is certainly a fair site better than his Tristan. The John Dexter production from 1977 is the only one the Met has ever known and it looks threadbare and musty. The comic moments in the production aren't where they should be indicating some tone problems that have crept in over time. That the cast can inject any sexiness into this golden oldie is a miracle at this point and with general director Peter Gelb’s accelerated schedule of new productions each season, it should be a priority for such an important 20th-century opera to get a new look. In fact given the Met’s historic reputation as one of the more artistically conservative companies in the business, it’s odd that their greatest artistic successes this season (e.g. Lulu, From the House of the Dead, The Nose, and Der Rosenkavalier) are all 20th-century operas. Who knew? This revival was musically a great one. Now it’s time to give Berg’s masterpiece the theater component it deserves. We'll continue this later, shall we?

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10

James Valenti and Angela Gheorghiu
Photo: Marty Sohl/Met Opera 2010

So what was I doing at the Metropolitan Opera’s opening performance of Verdi’s La Traviata this season? Well to be honest, I’d gone to hear soprano Angela Gheorghiu sing Violetta. I’m, of course, familiar with her career-making recording in the role from the Royal Opera House in the 90s, but this was the first time our paths had crossed in the real thing. And twenty years or so later, she’s still probably the best Violetta around. Say what you will about her diva status and behavior, this is one part she can sing with guts and real fire. She's nobody's mother in this part and what she lacks in warmth she makes up for in drama. Of course, this is opera, though, and the success of the evening rarely is as simple as one performer. The other big success in this revival is James Valenti. This was the house debut for the former National Council Auditions winner in 2002. And I feel at least judging by the audience’s response, this may be the first night of a very long and famous career on this and lots of other international opera stages. In Act I, Valenti appeared a little tentative. The voice was strong and athletic, but there was a little stiffness. But in Act II the nerves had burnt off, and he came out with all guns blazing for "De miei bollenti spiriti" and continued to generate one big ovation after the next. His is a dark toned tenor voice, but he scaled the high notes with comfort and ease. It also doesn't hurt that Valenti is a tall and very handsome man.

James Valenti
Photo: Dario Acosta

So with all this vocal wonderment, why wasn’t the evening a huge success? Sadly, the answer first and foremost was conductor Leonard Slatkin. Rumors abounded last week that there were conflicts between Slatkin and stars Gheorghiu and Thomas Hampson who sang Germont. On Monday, it sure sounded like it. There were huge pacing problems throughout and all the leads were often left in the dust as Slatkin seemed indifferent not only to their preferences, but even to letting them know what was going on. Several times I noted looks of fear in the vocalists' faces as they glanced over at Slatkin wailing away at a pace faster than necessary in several key moments. At the final curtain call he came out for a solo bow and stayed put until the cast came to join him, Slatkin taking his position not between Gheorghiu and her cast mates, but at the end of the row next to Valenti. They got through it, though, and perhaps they’ll all come to some agreement about tempos by the end of the run. In the meantime, the struggle was mighty distracting.

If there is anything else to celebrate about this revival of La Traviata, it’s that we may be lucky enough to be seeing the end of the horrific Zeffirelli production that continues to return from the dead like some brain-hungry zombie. Or at least it feels like the production is trying to eat everyone alive. Even the hair and costumes have gotten to the point where Gheorghiu is doing her best Sandra Bernhard in Act I with her big dopey ringlets. Vanlenti and Gheorghiu deserve a much better production than this. Help is on the way with Willy Decker’s production the Met intends to import from Salzburg this coming New Year’s Eve. In the meantime, we’ll have to settle for one of the voices of tomorrow and one of the best in the world until the rest of what’s on stage catches up.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10

Simon Keenlyside and David Pittsinger in Hamlet
Photo: Marty Sohl/Met Opera 2010

Saturday proved an interesting contrast in new productions at The Metropolitan Opera in New York. In the afternoon was Thomas’ Hamlet in an imported production from Patrice Caurier and Moshe Leiser that was broadcast as part of the Met’s “Live in HD” series. Later that evening was the Met’s final performance this season of a new original production of Verdi’s Attila. Both shows featured big name vocal talent, esteemed conductors, and contemporary productions from well-regarded opera directors with a taste for the minimal. And yet one was surprisingly watchable and the other was, …well, not. Hamlet was the winning entry. Thomas’ decidedly French take on the Shakespeare play has plenty in it to ruffle feathers. It’s pacing can be slow and the original plot is taken more as a suggestion than anything else. To compound these problems, Caurier and Leiser have come up with an almost non-existent production. Not unlike their bland Covent Garden Il Barbiere di Siviglia I saw last summer, you get a couple of scenery pieces, and you are on your own. Two curved wall segments are juggled back and forth by stagehands for three hours in Hamlet while the cast emotes all around them like nobody’s business. There are a few striking images, especially when the cast who are often clad in very light colors and presented in relief to the black background for contrast. But mostly, the stage is empty except for the performers.

So it all comes down to how good those performers are as actors and singers. Hamlet is blessed with some of the best. If the direction team got one thing right, it was to leave them alone. Simon Keenlyside leads a cast including Marlis Petersen, Jennifer Larmore, Toby Spence, David Pittsinger and James Morris who are more believable in their roles than any ensemble I can recall in the recent past. Keenlyside is especially fine and pulls off some big coups including a pretty freaking inspiring moment in the end of Act II when he douses himself with wine, wrapped in a table cloth in the middle of the banquet where he confirms his step-father’s guilt. Granted it was not the bare-chested wine soaking he (and later on, yummy Erwin Schrott) got in Francesca Zambello’s Covent Garden Don Giovanni, but he’s got the market cornered on sexy brooding here. Petersen underwent a rapid transition to fill in for the ailing Natalie Dessay as Ophelia, and at this point much of the uncertainty in her opening night performance has calmed down. Her vocal performance was commanding if not as creepy in the mad scene as you might like. Of course, it is a mad scene, however, so she does have to manage the requisite bloody dress and strewing of flowers about the stage. Still, I was really taken in by all of this, and by the time the finale arrived I actually found that I cared what was happening. Who knew?

Violeta Urmana and Ildar Abdrazakov
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2010

Sadly, the Pierre Audi-directed Attila has an almost opposite fate. It too sports an overly simple set design which in this case is highly restricted to the foot of the stage. But whereas the acting in Hamlet overcomes a banal staging, Attila had another burden to contend with, Riccardo Muti. If you believe what you read on-line, conductor Riccardo Muti, who made his Met debut leading the early performances in this run, played a major role in the staging reportedly interfering and insisting that performers remain virtually stationary and always in direct line of sight. The director was Pierre Audi who knows how to direct an opera as attested by my own first hand experiences with both his Poppea and Messiaen's St. Francois. But in Attila another very fine cast was so tied down, as was the chorus, that there was little too little to do. Dressed in all the leather, LED lights and cowboy fringe you could want, Violeta Urmana, Ramon Vargas, Franco Vassallo and Ildar Abdrazakov gave some spectacular vocal performances. But otherwise it was just looking at people in buildings. As with Hamlet the images could be stunning, but with little change in those images over time and a heavily restrained cast the evening quickly unraveled. Muti received much credit for the quality of the musical performance in the run of Attila to date, but things still sounded great under Marco Armiliato in the final show. But sadly the damage Muti left behind him was still apparent on stage. Apparently much like the US Government, opera too benefits from a strict separation of powers.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10

Paulo Szot in The Nose
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2010

I arrived in New York on Thursday just in time to catch the final performance of Shostakovich’s The Nose at The Metropolitan Opera. Did it live up to all the hype? Pretty much. By now you’ve probably read about the incredible production designed and directed by William Kentridge. It’s a work of art in and of itself independent of the opera going on inside it. The Soviet era agitprop look with ample amounts of high-end video projection technology was the perfect complement to this most Russian of works from the early 20th century. Cyrillic text flew here and there alongside English translations on the largely newsprint inspired backdrops. Surreal and funny, the runaway nose haunts nearly every scene in either video or in its newspaper flesh, giving the show a visual uniformity that you can't look away from for a second.

But rather than dwell on the beautifully absurdist production, I’d like to emphasize the superb comic and anxiety-ridden performance of Paulo Szot. Szot, who plays Kovyalov, is in nearly every scene of the opera and manages a difficult role in a production that calls for a fair amount of physical activity. He’s taken a few lumps in the press for being underpowered here, but he sounded fine from where I sat. Maybe some of the complainers should sit closer next time. Of course, architecturally, the Met is a house that undervalues vocalists without the largest of voices so criticism that he may not carry there seems somewhat inconsequential in the bigger picture. There were also some commentators who questioned the choice to cast him in this particular role for his Met debut - a demanding role in a work that has never been seen on the Met stage before. I think it was an excellent decision on his and his management's part. He stars in six sold out performances and doesn’t have to listen to the chattering classes compare him to an endless string of well-loved, mostly dead artists who’ve appeared in the same roles (and likely the same productions) in any number of war horses over the years. Szot stands out in The Nose as he should and plays against his good looks with a wonderfully neurotic and comically pathetic character.

Seeing the last of these sold-out shows got me thinking about what a shame it was that the other Shostakovich opera, Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk got dropped from the Met schedule this season following the near implosion of the US economy under Bush. If the house can sell out performances of The Nose, maybe losing Lady Macbeth wasn't such a good economic idea after all. Shostakovich's wonderful, agitated score was beautifully played by the Met orchestra. The final performance was led by Pavel Smelkov, a composer and member of the Mariinsky Theater filling in for Valery Gergiev who is appearing with Mariinsky orchestra in Southern California this week. The Nose may have been an oddball hit for the Met, but it was certainly an artistically deserved one. It's too bad it didn't make it to the HD broadcast series this year, it would have been great to have a video record of this wonderful evening at the opera.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10

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.

Labels: Carnegie Hall, Met opera reviews 09/10, Out of Town

Plácido Domingo as Simon Boccanegra with Adrianne Pieczonka and Marcello Giordani
Photo: Marty Sohl/Met Opera 2010

The main event last weekend was a trip to New York for the latest installment of Keeping Up with Plácido Domingo. Not unlike Savoir-Faire, the legendary tenor is indeed everywhere working on careers he’s taken on in musically related, but secondary, fields – conducting, arts company management, and being a baritone. Specifically, Domingo is appearing in two productions at The Metropolitan Opera this month. He’s conducting Verdi’s Stiffelio while also appearing in the baritone leading role of Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra. Of course, this has been all over what’s left of the papers and the blogosphere with everyone from Anne Midgette and Daniel Wakin to Lisa Hirsch questioning whether or not Mr. Domingo has overextended himself particularly in light of recent financial woes over the last year at the two opera companies he directs, Washington National Opera and Los Angeles Opera. But when that many print journalists (including Anthony Tommasini who side-swiped the topic in his recent review of Domingo in Simon Boccanegra) all begin to write from the same apparent set of talking points, I become a little wary of the developing party line.

Domingo may not be as successful in any of his secondary careers as he is in his incarnation as an operatic tenor, but make no mistake; he is a force to be reckoned with and has offered much to all the companies and individuals he's worked with. He is easily the most famous living name in opera and would have few challengers for the title in the broader field of classical music. His appearance fills opera seats and get projects off the ground that no one else would dream of. Even if things don’t always work out perfectly, he has a way of making things happen that very few others do in the opera world. And despite some peoples' concerns about his commitments, there seems to continue to be a line around the block for any crumbs he's willing to drop. If you don’t believe me, just look at the brochure for the upcoming, and largely disappointing, San Francisco Opera 10/11 season. Aside from the new Ring cycle, there's Aida and Butterfly until your nauseous, and yet the big selling point to grace the cover is the return of Domingo to the War Memorial Opera house after some 15 years now as Cyrano de Bergerac. Apparently when you’re ready to ask people for a big cash outlay, SFO still thinks Domingo’s got the power. Whatever anyone says about his management in Los Angeles, the fact remains that he has played a huge role in the very existence of one of the country’s largest and simultaneously youngest companies. This rise so far so fast is no accident despite the county underwriting a deserved and appropriate loan.

Meanwhile, the musical career rolls on and Domingo's two appearances at the Metropolitan Opera are tantalizing in different ways. Perhaps the higher profile, and more successful, of the two is his vocal performance as Simon Boccanegra. Domingo has always had a darker tone to his voice, so it wasn’t completely outrageous when he announced plans to take on this major baritone role a few years back. What surprises me is how successful he is at it. Granted he is not attempting to sound like a baritone in any way. His Boccanegra is clearly operating in a higher register. But it works beautifully. His acting and general stage instincts are so strong that he easily overcomes what is lost in the change in sound. (Trust me if you can believe Elina Garanca as Carmen, this is a no-brainer.) In fact, he’s probably as convincing as virtually any baritone I’ve seen sing the role. Boccanegra’s death scene in Act III was superbly done. The rest of the cast including Adrianne Pieczonka as Amelia and Marcello Giordani as Gabriele are quite good as well. The Giancarlo del Monaco production is still a dud with one dreadful static set after the next and cries out for something more visually engaging at every turn. But as has proven true in the past, this may make the upcoming HD broadcast of the opera in movie theaters on February 6th the ideal way to experience the show when camera angles are likely to inject some much needed excitement into the theatrical part of the proceedings. The best part of the evening, though, was the hero's welcome in a final curtain call for Domingo with longtime friend—and the other major force behind that evening's success—conductor James Levine.

José Cura as Stiffelio
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2010

Domingo’s conducting in Stiffelio is not quite as heroic. He has also won a perhaps undeserved reputation as a conductor who's overly indulgent to vocalists at the expense of pacing and drama. He was famously booed after a performance of La Boheme he led a few years back at the Met Opera. But his guidance has been better received in this early Verdi work, though, admittedly, the biggest excitement for me came from the many surprises in the cast onstage. José Cura played the title role with understated grief and was certainly more than reasonable. Around him were a number of younger singers that appear to be on their way to much bigger parts and increasingly enthusiastic receptions. This was one of three performances from Julianna DiGiacomo as Lina who is sharing the role with Sondra Radvanovsky. DiGiacomo was wonderful with a solid, strong, and bright tone. She gained admirers quickly over the course of the evening and, if anyone was regretting not seeing Radvanovsky, you wouldn't have known it from the ovation she got at the end. I feel certain we haven't heard the last of her lovely voice, and for that I am grateful.

Lina’s father, Stankar, was sung by baritone Andrzej Dobber who gave a riveting account of “Lina pensai che un angelo” in Act III. I’ve seen Dobber sing Germont here in L.A. and was rather indifferent about the performance, but here he was heart-breakingly good. Also on stage was Michael Fabiano, the young tenor who appears in The Audition, Susan Froemke's recent documentary about the 2007 Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions finalists. His Rafaelle was appropriately rash and impetuous among a field of the more reserved and shamed cast of characters. Although Domingo may not have given the show the thrust it deserves, he did marshal a performance worth remembering from the cast. And, while the show isn’t getting the HD treatment, it will be featured on the Saturday radio broadcast on January 30 and comes recommended as well.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10

Michael Cerveris and Laura Benanti
Photo: Joan Marcus 2009

Saturday was a day of refuting myths. The first incident came in the latest excellent play from Sarah Ruhl, In The Next Room, or the vibratory play. Set in the 1880s, Ruhl’s comic romance concerns exactly what it pertains to. That's not to say this is light fare. There are plenty of serious issues brimming everywhere just beneath the surface. The exercise here is to exploit the changes in cultural attitudes about science, female sexuality, and family dynamics in the last century for laughs as well as some drama. What’s best about the humor in Ruhl's play is that the majority of the laughs don’t come from jokes or formal bits. Instead Ruhl presents a not unreasonable version of the treatment of hysteria in both men and women by a physician in post bellum America and lets the surprising discrepancies between what the audience would expect for the time and the reality of what history has documented drive things. This is a very specific era before Freud but after the Civil War and the rise of professional medicine in the United States. The play focuses primarily on a doctor’s wife and her relationships with two other women, a hysteric patient of her husband’s and a wet nurse she and her husband have hired to care for their newborn daughter.

Mama's talkin' loud. Mama's doin' fine

I don’t want to give away too much more about events in the play, but it is at turns funny and touching and always professionally done. Director Les Waters keeps a certain realistic clarity by not overdoing the few visual gags there are and keeping the focus on straight-forward interpersonal interactions. I should also mention the fantastic performances from Laura Benanti, Michael Cerveris, and Maria Dizzia. Benanti’s Mrs. Givings feels unassumingly authentic in most every way. She has loads of chemistry with everyone else on stage and avoids an overly sentimental take on a character that invites such an approach. Benanti makes it easy to forget that she’s a star with a number of significant credits to her name including a Tony for her role in the most recent revival of Gypsy. Though sadly, I apparently missed her appearance in yet another revival of that musical between the Tony win and now according the married couples behind me on Saturday who couldn’t stop raving about her turn as Gypsy Rose Lee opposite Patti LaBelle.

Anna Netrebko and Alan Held
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2009

Which brings me to my other myth correcting episode for today. I had a chance to revisit the Metropolitan Opera’s final performance this season of Les Contes d’Hoffmann. This time James Levine conducted and even though Joseph Calleja was out sick again, I felt a little more positive about the experience than I had previously. David Pomeroy was the cover again and despite the announcement he had a cold he sang well with plenty of fire and excitement. I got to sit in the front row just off center among a group of four over-70 couples who were long time friends, donors, and subscribers to the Met. We struck up a conversation over a variety of topics, but, of course, things came around to opera and the Met in particular. All of them seemed to enjoy the performance of Hoffmann and expressed their good feelings about the new Bartlett Sher production. The gentleman next to me was a bit concerned that the several barely clad women on stage in Act III might catch cold with little more than pasties and black panties on in the big theater. But surprisingly all our neighbors commented that they thought this season at the Met had been great so far. They even liked the reportedly controversial Luc Bondy Tosca that bloggers like to write so much about. And while this group may not have been a representative sample, it just goes to show that young people are not the only ones who are attracted to the idea of new and fresh stagings and productions. "It's different, but so what. You can't do the same thing forever," noted the octogenerian to my right who was celebrating his 59th wedding anniversary. Just because you’re elderly and/or have been going to the Met Opera forever does not necessarily mean that you hate everything that’s changing at the house. Which I think is very good news for everyone.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10, Out of Town Theater Reviews

Renée Fleming and Susan Graham
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2009

I hate to admit it, but apparently it is possible for a cast to sing and act its way out of a bad opera production. At least that’s what I took away from the first of four last performances of Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier this season at The Metropolitan Opera on New Year’s Day. This musty Nathaniel Merrill production left over from another era is in bad need of some serious rethinking and refurbishment. Given that it's just slightly older than I am, I recognize how someone might have nostalgic feelings for it like harvest gold-hued kitchen appliances or the Nixon administration. However, despite the decay, tonight’s Der Rosenkavalier was the best opera I’ve seen in New York all week. The reason was a cast that dreams are made of. In the pit was Edo de Waart who played Strauss with no regrets. While Strauss' tide may have turned between Elektra and this, his subsequent opera, de Waart treated the score with the love and care it deserves. Of course, he had help on stage from three women who are not only among the world’s best in these roles, but are perhaps some of the best ever.

Renée Fleming is singing the Marschallin, one of her signature roles. Which is to say that outside of Rusalka it may be more suited for her than anything else she has ever sung. Just heart-breaking to the point of tears. Fleming's Octavian was Susan Graham who sang with such conviction and clarity that it was almost like I had never heard her before despite my longstanding admiration of her voice. Then there was Christine Schäfer as Sophie whose small frame and beautiful voice provided the perfect foil to the powerful and large Baron Ochs of Kristinn Sigmundsson. There is often too little for the cast to do onstage, but luckily these four are not just incredible voices. The sheer experience and acting abilities of the entire cast filled in a dreadfully large amount of standing-around time. Suddenly the musty confines of the past seemed to fade away under the glories of these performances. The final trio between the three female leads was absolutely first rate. Luckily there are three more of these necessary performances between now and the 15th of January, though they are mostly sold out. Best of all however, is that there is an HD broadcast to see next Saturday afternoon that everyone can take advantage of.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10, Out of Town

Elīna Garanča as Carmen
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2009

In the program for the Metropolitan Opera’s new production of Bizet’s Carmen, which I saw last night, a reference is made to the intentions of director Richard Eyre and conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin. --Maestro Nézet-Séguin agrees with the director’s approach. “I’m not looking at this production in terms of, ‘Oh we need to do something different.”’ -- If this is the standard by which to judge this new Carmen, one could officially say “Mission Accomplished.” Richard Eyre’s production offers virtually nothing new to say about these conflicted residents of Seville that hasn’t been said thousands of times elsewhere. That’s not to say that this is a bad production, but it certainly isn’t a groundbreaking or even particularly memorable one. Eyre has updated the story to 1930s Spain and set all the action in a single giant rotunda of sorts. There are concentric rings of giant collapsing brick walls that rotate in opposing directions to reveal various spaces that are...surrounded by giant collapsing brick walls. Although there is a lot of movement, it can be rather bland to look at, especially in the first two acts. The 1930s house dresses of the cigarette factory workers do little to explain why the soldiers find them so attractive in Act I. This is only slightly less confusing than watching the factory workers rise from a cistern in the center of the stage for their entrance.

But underground cigarette factories aside, I will admit that all of these spinning layers started to grow on me by Act III. Eyre uses some of this activity for an almost cinematic effect. The opera ends with Don Jose holding Carmen’s dead body rotating away upstage to reveal in their place a red-lit tableau of the townspeople watching Escamillo delivering the deathblow to a life-sized downed bull. Sure it’s obvious, but it looked pretty cool at the time. Most remarkable to me, though, was probably some of the best choreography I’ve seen in any opera production before. Christopher Wheeldon provided an excellently coordinated flamenco sequence in Act II, which received the biggest mid-performance ovation of the night, as well as two superb and rather sexy bits at the beginning of each act. Two half-dressed solo dancers, a man and a woman, would appear in a large rift in the brick wall of the set and perform during both overtures. You get the idea.

Elīna Garanča and Mariusz Kwiecien
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2009

Sadly, most of the cast was unable to generate this level of sex appeal. Elīna Garanča was the Carmen. She sounded great, but I found her a little cold and removed for my taste. Roberto Alagna was a volatile Don Jose. And even though he handled the rage well, I couldn’t help but wonder how much more interesting the scenes would have been if his soon to be ex-wife, Angela Gheorghiu, had gone through with the plans to sing Carmen opposite him anyway in an operatic Shoot Out the Lights. I'd have loved to see that Act IV. If you wanted sex appeal from the vocalists, you’d have to turn to the "hot Pole", Mariusz Kwiecien. Apparently he traveled to Spain to be fitted for authentic bullfighter threads for this production and trust me, it was money well spent. He sounded pretty decent, too, as did Barbara Frittoli as Micäela. She may not have had the benefit of skin-tight high-waisted trousers, but her tone was bright and actually rather heart-breaking.

I felt Nézet-Séguin made a good impression with his Met Opera debut. He lunged into the overture at a remarkably fast pace leaving the orchestra struggling to keep up and I was initially a little worried. But things smoothed out and he managed pleasant dynamics and a lightness the piece requires. So while this new production may not be anyone’s dream of a perfect Carmen, it’s not unpleasant either. It’s modern looking enough with a few visual tricks to keep things from being totally boring, even though they can drag at times. And best of all, it continues the company’s efforts to enter the 20th century artistically. There were a smattering of boos for the production team during their curtain call which suggests that this is becoming as de rigueur here as it has been in Europe for well over a decade. It was hardly enough to think that most people were actually upset by the production, but enough to indicate that those desperately clutching onto the past aren’t pleased. A sure sign of success for the company, even if this individual production isn’t one for the record books.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10, Out of Town

Kate Lindsey in Sher's staging of Hoffmann
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2009

On Wednesday I arrived at The Metropolitan Opera to see the new Bartlett Sher production of Offenbach’s Les Contes d’Hoffmann to discover that the star tenor playing Hoffmann, Joseph Calleja, had called in sick and would be replaced by Canadian tenor David Pomeroy in his Met Opera debut. Now many people might have found this distressing, but I was not necessarily one of them. I knew nothing of Pomeroy other than the general disparaging remarks one reads about all living singers in the comments sections of Parterre Box. On the other hand, I do know something about Calleja. While he’s gotten good reviews for his performance of Hoffmann in this production, my own personal experiences seeing him perform have been highly variable, but trending toward the unremarkable. So I can’t say I was totally bummed out or anything. And after hearing Mr. Pomeroy tonight, I can’t say that he was any worse than I would have predicted Calleja might have been given my prior exposure to him. Pomeroy was certainly able to sing the part and finished the evening without unraveling. He may not have the size or warmth Calleja has, but from where I sat he was not at all unpleasant and for stepping in to this big role for his debut, I’d go so far as to say it was a pretty solid performance.

That consideration aside, this Hoffman was certainly a reasonable if not completely satisfying evening at the opera. Sher’s production is a bit timid. Sher blends in a variety of Kafkaesque and even German Expressionist elements. It’s dark with rather elaborate costumes, but the sets tend toward the monotone. There are a lot of visual elements that are momentarily interesting to look at, but I never felt that the whole thing went far enough. This is one wild and phantasmagorical opera and while the production is aware of this, it doesn’t really reach for anything as far afield as it might have, even though it was certainly dressed for the occasion. Think warmed over Baz Luhrmann. But all that being said, at least it had a modern look about it. Despite this Hoffmann’s shortcomings, it still looks better than the museum pieces that still make up a too high percentage of the Metropolitan Opera’s schedule throughout the year. Heaven knows I’d rather see this again than sit through another round of something outright laughable such as the current Aida or Turandot.

The rest of the cast on Wednesday all made it in, and there were a number of enjoyable vocal performances. Kathleen Kim’s Olympia seemed relaxed and surprisingly strong. Netrebko seemed a good fit for Antonia and came through in the acting department as she usually does. She still generates a lot of excitement on the stage. Alan Held’s villains were all on target. I think I was most partial, however, to Kate Lindsey’s Nicklausse who haunts the stage throughout this whole evening in male drag, infusing the thing with a little melancholy. She sang splendidly and gave the most emotionally connected turn in the whole opera. John Keenan conducted the orchestra in one of his scheduled nights covering for James Levine who is still on tap to return for Saturday’s closing performance.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10, Out of Town

Susan Bullock and Deborah Voigt
Photo: Marty Sohl/Met Opera 2009

Tuesday in New York brought the final performance this season of Srauss’ Elektra at the Metropolitan Opera. And while it didn’t split the earth in two or anything, it was far from shabby and rather fitting for this centenary year of the work's premiere in Dresden. Let me put it this way. Earlier in the day, I’d seen the excellent retrospective of Kandinsky’s work at the Guggenheim. Seeing the radical, increasingly abstract pieces produced by Kandinsky around the time Strauss composed Elektra was a potent reminder of the break these artists saw from what had gone before. And while Kandinsky would move on to become friends with Schoenberg as Strauss headed off in another direction entirely, Elektra is cut from a particularly radical early 20th-century cloth. At the Metropolitan on Tuesday there were some intensely beautiful colors, but it wasn’t exactly a completely new way of seeing things.

The well-regarded Fabio Luisi conducted the orchestra in the most revolutionary part of the performance. The brass alone was worth the ticket price. Dark and brooding but powerfully slashing at others, it was nothing short of world class. There were some things to shout about onstage as well. Primarily Deborah Voigt. I know it’s fashionable to bitch and moan about how her voice has changed over the years, but her Chrysothemis has few serious challengers in the world even now. She gave the most integrated and felt performance of the evening. As for the Elektra, Susan Bullock, despite my initial reservations I must admit she grew on me. By the time Orest showed up, the steel and stamina of her voice were clearly on display and she seemed to actually be fully coming to life. There was the unfortunate bit of her hurdy-gurdy style ax dance, which evoked Rosie O'Donnell in Fiddler on the Roof more than ancient Greece. But a little laughter can be a good thing. Strauss certainly thought so in the long run.

The production itself, another Otto Schenk/Jürgen Rose number, is remarkably pedestrian even for 1992. There is that giant fallen horse statue everyone must stumble around, but it’s an otherwise rather drab jewelry box. Of course, all of the trinkets are being worn by Klytämnestra who looked like Madame sans Wayland Flowers, which cut into the whole feeling of terror around her. But Palmer handled the role well, given the costume cards she was dealt.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10, Out of Town

Act II of Turandot
Photo: Met Opera 2009

I failed to mention that while I was in New York last weekend I did see the revival of Zeffirelli’s Turandot production starring Maria Guleghina and Franck Porretta. I wasn’t going to say much about it, but since I’m sparing the other audience members at tonight’s Berlin Philharmonic concert in Los Angeles from having to listen to my cough, I thought I might mention a few things. As for the show itself, what can you say at this point? It’s beyond camp. And the funniest bits are in the small gestures like Guleghina’s karate chop “Off with his head” maneuver. But my personal favorite is in Act III when Ping threatens to give Liu a big fat knuckle sandwich in order to get her to reveal Calaf’s name. Nothing forbears impending grizzly torture like a sternly shaken fist. Guleghina still seems a better idea of a vocalist than an actual one to my ear. Porretta seemed to be laying back vocally throughout the whole evening until he suddenly went all commando on us in “Nessun Dorma”. You certainly couldn’t fault him for playing his chips when they mattered most. A little less ham in the acting department would have been helpful; though, as I mentioned, he hardly stood out considering how over-the-top giggle-inducing everything else was. The orchestra sounded great and I was rather fond of Andris Nelsons’ conducting overall.

But perhaps the most interesting part of that Saturday afternoon was not the matinee performance, but the 2 and a half hour backstage tour I got of the Met beforehand. I’m by no means an insider to the artistic operation of any company much less the Met, and I was excited to get a look around the business end of the big house. Our guide, a 20 plus year veteran of the company took us to many of the usual sights - star dressing rooms, costume department, set shop, etc. It was a whirlwind of activity this particular Saturday with the upcoming first dress rehearsal of the new Les Contes d’Hoffman production the following Monday as well as several other shows currently running or about to kick off. I wasn’t aware of just how far in advance the company works on projects still in the planning stage, and was surprised to see numerous set elements for the next season's production of Adams’ Nixon in China that were assembled and waiting for an upcoming technical rehearsal.

The tour really got interesting, though, when our guide ran into a 40 plus year company colleague of the technical stagehand variety. We got to walk out onto the legendary stage in front of the mammoth Turandot set that was being assembled at the time for a look at the house. There were questions from the small group about the general ins and outs of running such a large operation. Everyone was nice and very forthcoming as we discussed the aspects of putting Zeffirelli's Turandot together and taking it apart so many times in a single week. And then the topic turned as it always does to trouble and strife. Namely the stress created by the many changes implemented since general director Peter Gelb has come to town including ever so subtle pressure to move the company into the post-WWII era artistically. The stagehand and tour guide began to lament certain changes and before you know it the word "Eurotrash" starts to get thrown around. The complaints could be broken down into two categories. The first concerned the realistic changes faced by a workforce accustomed to a handful of new productions a year to one that now sees 7 or 8. With the company always working on something new and unfamiliar, so they noted, it becomes hard to catch one's breath. Less and less is familiar and everyday is about solving new and unexpected problems.

The second line of concern seemed to focus on (what else) messing with the tried and true. "You don't mess with the Ring. You don't mess with Bohème. You don't mess with Turandot" was the refrain amongst the guides and the denture wearers in the group. "That's what New York City Opera is for" quickly followed. However, the house staff seemed sure that all favorites would soon be on the chopping block, "if Gelb is still here in a few years." The tsk-tsking continued for several more minutes, but the tone was clear. It should come as no surprise that the changes which have been so difficult for some segments of the audience to accept have been just as difficult for some of the staff to accept as well. Which I can understand. Change is hard in any organization. But change, more often than not, is also a necessary fact of life.

Now I'm from the Midwest and come from a line of people who sincerely believe that it's uncouth to get in an argument with someone when you're a guest in their home. So at the time, I kept my mouth shut and nodded politely. However, as an audience member, and a donor, I continue to think that this particular opera company is on exactly the right track artistically and hopefully financially as well. There is nothing more boring than seeing opera as a museum piece. The Metropolitan Opera, like any arts or other organization, can't just keep doing the same things over and over and expect to remain relevant or financially viable. Playing to the lowest common denominator of audiences and donors is only going to get you so far in the long run. And while the thought of staff no longer having the opportunity to lovingly restore an ersatz Chinese pagoda may bring a tear to some eyes, it fills me with joy. The same day as this tour and performance of Turandot I also got to see From the House of the Dead. And there is no doubt in my mind which one I'd rather spend money on to see again. So, if in fact a war of sorts is on in America's biggest opera house—whether or not I'm supporting the winning side in the end—I think Peter Gelb is fighting the good fight.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10

Kurt Streit and cast
Photo: Ken Howard/Met Opera 2009

This trip out of town is really all about Leos Janacek. Or at least his operas, which are probably some of the most important of the 20th century. Of course, they were largely under recognized in Europe for decades outside of his native country until Sir Charles Mackerras, among others, began to advocate for them more seriously as early as the 1950s. Janacek’s works are still somewhat under appreciated in the U.S. The relatively few existing productions of the operas are shared between American houses on the occasions they do pop up in the schedule. So, when any house puts on a production of one of his operas, it's still an event of sorts. When that house is the Metropolitan Opera and it’s a work like From the House of the Dead, it is most definitely an event. Of course, what’s onstage now is not really a new production in that Patrice Chéreau’s poetic, theatrical staging has been seen in many other cities throughout Europe on its co-production course. It’s even available on DVD already making a high profile HD broadcast to theaters redundant. But the Met's Peter Gelb was wise enough to sign on as a co-producer of the show, which has arrived in New York where it is a bracing tonic in a house still plagued with more than a little kitsch rot still to be excised. (I’ll comment more on this and Saturday’s performance of Turandot later next week)

House of the Dead is about the tragedy of prison life. It can be bleak, though there is an undeniable thread of hope in it. It is an ensemble piece without big arias or set pieces. However, it is starkly beautiful with some of Janacek's most stirring music. Although Pierre Boulez conducted Chéreau's production throughout Europe, here at the Met, the job fell to Esa-Pekka Salonen. It nearly brought tears to my eyes hearing such a wonderful rich sound coming from this world-class orchestra under his guidance especially when you consider how much we have lost in Los Angeles with his resignation as music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic. People should be lining up around the block to hear this opera played regardless of anything going on onstage.

But that would certainly be missing half of an excellent evening. The major vocalists are impressive, including Kurt Streit and Willard White. Petter Matei delivers a rich and warm-toned extended passage in Act III that will sell you on his star quality if that hasn't happened already. I’m also especially fond of Stefan Margita who appeared as Luka. I’ve previously seen him steal whole operas as both Loge and Laca so his intense presence here was no surprise. He’s a superb actor who will hopefully be back on this and other American stages soon. The staging requires an immense amount of physical movement among the prisoners that never crosses over into dance, but is otherwise just about there. It was no surprise that some of the heartiest applause was reserved for the chorus and actors appearing as the prison inmates and guards considering the amount of action, some of it in various states of undress, that the staging calls for. Chéreau's staging makes no bones about the homerotic qualities os Janacek's opera, though it is admittedly not a primary focus.

The other highlight of the evening for me was seeing a kindred spirit on my exit from the theater. Composer Kaija Saariaho, who is no stranger to bleak operas about hope was in attendance on Saturday. She’s a good friend of Salonen’s and with the exciting leadership that Peter Gelb has brought to the Met, I couldn’t help but fantasize that she’d arrived in town to meet with him and Salonen to discuss a production of L’Amour de Loin or perhaps something new for the company. Probably not, but a boy can dream, can’t he? From the House of the Dead is superb and it runs now through the 5th of December.

Labels: Met opera reviews 09/10