Out West Arts: Performance at the end of the world

Charles Castronovo and Anna Netrebko
Photo: Cory Weaver/SFO 2009

Perhaps one of the worst seasons in recent memory is wrapping up for the San Francisco Opera right now. My last visit for the 08/09 schedule was on Sunday for one of the handful of performances from Anna Netrebko in La Traviata. It was small consolation though, after a year of fairly well cast, but mostly bland, uninteresting productions. Sadly, it appears that we’re in for only more of the same in coming years, in a house now aggressively devoted to bringing the biggest stars to San Francisco, no matter what the cost, in an effort to fill seats and inspire the most uninspired donors. Now I’ve got nothing against big opera stars, but when their recruitment becomes the specific expressed focus of development campaigns, I start to wonder where the “art” went, not to mention the sort of sad desperation of it all. No, I do not want to donate money just to bring famous singers in to San Francisco.

This cash-for–flash strategy (or perhaps cash-for-trash depending on your feelings about the specific star the house has on offer) appears in full bloom in this La Traviata. So here is what you get for those extra donation dollars. You get Netrebko as Violetta - and make no doubt about it, she is totally amazing. All you Netrebko haters can go on all you want about her weight and darker tone, she jumps head first into roles with abandon and is always fascinating to watch. She performs with attitude to spare and can sing better than most, which I guess is why she has the career she does. Of course, you only got to see her in San Francisco if you had tickets for one of her five performances in the series of nine shows this summer. And in addition to any ticket price and/or donation, you probably ended up paying for her in other ways. You got a rather crappy, unimaginative roaring 20s staging from Los Angeles Opera and Marta Domingo. It’s fine if you like the color orange, but it never really ignites. Plus there are only so many tiaras one gal can wear in an evening, isn't there. You got a lower-tier supporting cast that Netrebko often outran by a mile. Don’t get me wrong I love Dwayne Croft and Charles Castronovo as much as the next guy, but Castronovo in particular was too underpowered here vocally and otherwise. Still, the house did sell out all five shows Netrebko starred in. So was it worth it? Does this inspire you to donate more money so SFO can do more of the same? I’m certain that for some people it does, but I’m not so sure it’s the best approach overall. Time, of course, will tell.

This run of La Traviata is also maestro Donald Runnicles last appearance as music director with the company. He’ll be back for some of his specialties in the near future, including an upcoming Ring cycle, but this is the last of his in-house duties before the new guy, Nicola Luisotti, shows up. It wasn’t Runnicles strongest moment either in an overly controlled performance from the orchestra, lacking in any feeling of spontaneity. Everyone seems to be expecting a revolution of Italianate conducting with Luisotti’s arrival. Maybe so, but I hope they come up with productions that are a little more engaging than some of what we’ve seen this year. The current La Traviata continues with Elizabeth Futral and Allyn Perez through the rest of this week.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09

Eric Owens and Laquita Mitchell
Photo: Cory Weaver/SFO 2009

It’s Pride Weekend in San Francisco (if that's what they’re still calling it these days), and what better way to spend it than listening to a straight couple make out behind me for over three hours during the course of a performance of Porgy and Bess? (Cooing and giggling aside, here’s a tip for you young lovers out there – if you’re going to put out for as little as dinner and a rear orchestra seat, you may want to aim a little higher.) And I suppose if one must view opera as something inherently romantic and suitable for date night, Gershwin’s tale of murder, drug dealing, and the failure of the redemptive power of love is no less appropriate than anything Verdi wrote. Plus it’s in English, allowing you to easily sing along at parts when you need a break from making out. Annoyances aside, Porgy and Bess is an odd duck of the opera canon. Popular to be sure because of its many familiar tunes, but not immediately related to much of what opera houses, in the U.S. at least, stage on a regular basis. It's a uniquely American object, on American themes.

It is also one of those operas like Die tote Stadt that seems to exist in only one production at a time, which travels around until everyone is tired of it and then a new one surfaces somewhere, which again travels around the country and world for years and years. Porgy and Bess arrives in San Francisco in the same Francesca Zambello staging seen everywhere including L.A. a few years back. It’s updated to the 1950s, and can be attractive with its dilapidated corrugated steel scaffolding. It’s still pretty static, but it’s far from Zambello’s most irritating work. The curtain with its Rauschenberg-inspired clippings of the New York skyline and parts of faces is brilliant. Luckily, the audience on the final performance in the run, which I saw last night, got a bonus 10 minutes or so to look at it when Porgy, played by Eric Owens, became “indisposed” for heath reasons and the show was stalled during Act I. He returned, though, after being treated by a doctor, we were told, and frankly from my seat seemed no worse for the wear.

Owens sounds fantastic. He’s big and clear in voice. If you want evidence that he’s ready to headline bigger fare around the world, here it is – come and get him. Laquita Mitchell sang a touching Bess with marked athleticism. She was into it and could provide the physicality to carry off the show. I was also particularly enamored with Chauncey Packer's portrayal of Sportin’ Life. He had a real magnetism on the stage and was solid vocally. An old hand at this work, John DeMain was in the pit and the orchestra sounded strong. The chorus also sounded good tonight even if they could have used a bit more stage direction at times. But this was a final performance, and things can lose their edge at this point in many runs. I think the show could take a bit more of an aggressive stance towards its material, however. As it is, this Porgy and Bess is watchable, but nothing that would make you sit up and take notice of the strife and drama on stage. Or at least do so long enough to break up the conversation and romance between you and your date.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09

Samuel Ramey as Boris Godunov
Photo: Terrence McCarthy/SFO 2008

I have admittedly been slow to comment on San Francisco Opera’s production of Boris Godunov that I saw on Sunday, but haven’t got around to writing about it due to a number of admittedly frivolous distractions like voting and such. The other obstacle was that the production in and of itself was pleasant but not what it could have been. Like much of what the company has offered this season, it’s painfully unassuming, adding little to the opera experience. It's a production that doesn’t get in the way, but it’s not helpful either, which I suppose is what some people want, but I think opera can and should be much more.

This Stein Winge staging has a barren wooden slope that rises to form a back wall with a seemingly endless number of hidden doors. Minimal amounts of furniture are hauled around by the cast with just a few oh-so-gentle touches to suggest that there is something edgy about the whole proceeding like the giant map/blanket that covers the majority of the floor in Act II. The simpleton remains on stage throughout almost the entire opera to reinforce his significance. While this deconstructivist approach can lead to some surprisingly big moments, even the biggest set scene, Boris’ Act I coronation seemed less awe-inspiring than it should. In contrast the comic scenes are played almost like a television show. There were the Gokley trademark “gorgeous period costumes" except, of course, for the multitude of peasants who were the cleanest bunch of pastel and beige-clad ragamuffins I’ve ever seen.

The star, of course, is Samuel Ramey, a living legend in the autumn of his career. He can ride on technique for days, but his Boris is not what it was and I found him sloppy at times. Vitalij Kowaljow made an appearance as Pimen, his second with the company this Fall and was again very impressive. The orchestra under Vassily Sinaisky was solid if not earth-shattering. I often felt the orchestra was timid in some of the more grand moments of Mussorgsky’s score. But maybe it was just me. Or maybe it was the near sold-out crowd, which seemed odd after a weekend of undersold performances. Of course Sunday was the only matinée of the entire run, which may had some influence. There are three more performances.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09

Ramón Vargas and Inva Mula
Photo: Terence McCarthy/SFO 2008

What’s not to love about L’Elisir d’Amore? Donizetti’s perennial favorite is so earnest, so warmhearted, and so user friendly it seems nearly impervious to virtually all insults. Despite the slings and arrows of outrageous productions, variable vocal talents, and any number of orchestral insults, it is more often than not successful even if it is rarely great. And so it is with the current San Francisco revival of the work. It’s a cute if not chic or groundbreaking production. It’s an updated setting, here a Napa valley harvest festival immediately prior to the outbreak of WWI, which probably is a notch too close to The Music Man for its own good. All the action takes place around a single giant gazebo set, and it’s not unpleasant to look at if rather monotonous after awhile. The effect is more colorful than charming or funny. There were some oddities, however, including the entire cast gathering around a newspaper in the closing tableaux to read news of WWI just breaking out. What this mordant undertone serves in the larger interest of the opera is beyond me and seems to cheapen the whole performance in a "dream sequence" sort of way. L'Elisir could stand some fresh insight as could any opera written this long ago, but this genteel whisper of an approach is pointless.

Perhaps the biggest drag on the evening is a ponderously slow and lifeless performance from the orchestra under Bruno Campanella. As the orchestra receded into a quiet, inert mode, there was little support for either the chorus or the principals. Luckily, there were a couple of world-class vocal performances to counteract this weakness. Foremost is Ramón Vargas, whose Nemorino, a ne'er-do-well ice cream vendor in this staging, is the centerpiece of the whole exercise. This role is an ideal fit for him, and Vargas makes good use of his comic timing and polished acting skills. Opposite him was the legendary Alessandro Corbelli whose Dulcamara seemed effortless and very funny. Inva Mula sang Adina with ease, clarity and a beautiful tone. She tended toward a youthful innocence over a more comic savvy that could have really sold the role, but it’s a minor quibble. Of course, since the company is also offering the opera in a bastardized "family" version, this may be the intent. But maybe that's OK. I suppose L'Elisir is as good an entry point for opera for kids as any, and the production does have a Disney like atmosphere.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09

Act I of Idomeneo
Photo: Terrence McCarthy/SFO 2008

It’s Halloween and what better way to celebrate than the final performance of Mozart’s Idomeneo at the San Francisco Opera this season. Apparently I’m the only one who thought so considering the house was just a tick above half-full from the looks of it. I suppose everyone was out having fun elsewhere or too intimidated to marshal their way through everyone else’s fun to get to the opera house in the first place. Those who did make it were quiet, tired, and by their response clearly nonplussed by the performance.

And it’s hard not to blame them. San Francisco has chosen to mount yet another of those oddly kitschy yet dull John Copley-directed and John Conklin-designed monstrosities (as they did earlier this year with a grotesque Ariodante). Their Idomeneo has a little more uumph but is still laughable in many spots, including a large stained bed-sheet that is supposed to represent a sea monster or blood in the streets, or something like that. The production is the aesthetic equivalent of a Saturday afternoon Dynasty marathon on TV Land. Not a good thing in the Turkish bath-like heat of the War Memorial Opera House.

The singing was a mixed bag. Alice Coote, the production’s Idamante, called in sick the last night as she had in the prior few performances being replaced with first-year Adler fellow Daniela Mack who was game, but I think a might overwhelmed by the part. Kurt Streit’s Idomeneo was much more satisfying but the vocal standout was the beautiful light and clarity of Genia Kühmeier’s soprano. Her Ilia was gorgeous, as was she, causing everyone to understandably fall in love with her. The evening’s other bright spot was, not surprisingly, Donald Runnicles who gave a bang-up performance with the orchestra. Light and clear, the music held everything else together even through the weak spots. This did flag a bit in the third act slowing to near Parsifal like proportions, but aurally, it retained it’s beauty. I’m sure going to miss him when he leaves San Francisco.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09

l-r: Zheng Cao as Ruth Young Kamen, Ning Liang as LuLing Liu Young, and Qian Yi as Precious Auntie
Photo: Terrence McCarthy/SFO 2008

There is something to be said for lowered expectations. I was actually fairly entertained by Stewart Wallace and Amy Tan’s opera The Bonesetter’s Daughter now receiving it’s world premiere performances in San Francisco. However, given that my most recent new opera experience was Howard Shore’s The Fly in Los Angeles, anything would have been a significant improvement. And so it was. Amy Tan’s melodramatic popular novel has received a full-fledged stage and musical treatment. Despite the Oprah-esque qualities of the piece, it’s not a bad little story with three generations of women uncovering their histories through a ghost story of sorts. Everybody learns meaningful lessons about their ancestry and how they got to be who they are.

But, despite this, it’s unclear that Bonesetter has much staying power. Although it is proving to be quite popular in its run in San Francisco, the opera reminds me more of another recent premiere in Los Angeles, Elliot Goldenthal’s Grendel. Like its predecessor, Bonesetter is overly reliant on a highly attractive and imaginative staging, in this instance from Chen Shi-Zheng. Floating ghosts and gowns, gorgeous bright colors, and animated video imagery drive the show despite a sometimes predictable score. Strings swell ominously in conjunction with a variety of non-Western percussion instruments. but for all the pretty angst, there's little variety to mark shifts in mood in the piece. Of course, there aren't many of those to begin with so that may be part of the problem.

Wallace has crafted an opera with a wide variety of Chinese influences after years of study and preparation. But, despite this, the music never really seems to evoke something deeper than what’s apparent on the surface. His vocal lines are reasonable, though, and they are performed quite admirably by a very good cast which includes Zheng Cao as Ruth, Ning Liang as her mother LuLing, and Qian Yi as the grandmother Precious Auntie. The vocal writing relies both on Western and Chinese operatic conditions and these disparate elements are well-integrated throughout. There are clearly rocky spots. About half way through the first Act, the rather interesting action grinds to a halt. Things pick up again later for what was an enjoyable afternoon; although honestly not one that I necessarily feel the need to repeat.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09

Hvorostovsky et al
Photo: Terrence McCarthy/SFO 2008

I just woke up from San Francisco Opera’s final performance of Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra and while I know I’m very late to this party, I thought I’d make a few comments. I would generally agree with what seems to have been the consensus about this run – it was very well sung, but burdened with a banal, poorly directed staging. The cast mostly stands around, occasionally gesturing and looking at one another in what might pass for a knock off Getty Villa. And that’s entertainment. I suppose keeping things very simple is necessary for an opera with such an overly convoluted and often confusing plot. But nobody here does much to sort that out. Sure all these characters say they love or hate each other but you wouldn’t know it from their body language.

But focusing on the voices and the performance from Donald Runnicles and the SF Opera orchestra helped. Dimitri Hvorostovsky sang a regal but downtrodden Boccanegra. I’ve decided at long last that I do prefer him across the board to Thomas Hampson. Hvorostovsky can come off as aloof at times, but I prefer his coolness to Hampson’s periodic tendency to glower and bellow. Hvorotovsky is also one heck of a handsome man, though you wouldn’t know it here from the endless series of voluminous black caftans he wore creating a sort of funeral-going Helen Roper effect.

Barbara Frittoli sang Amelia and, despite a little cracking here and there, was consistently enjoyable and managed at least one rather lovely pianissimo. Marcus Haddock did the Gabriele chores aptly and with less shouting than I’ve heard from him recently. The big news, though, was bass Vitalij Kowaljow whose Fiesco was not only audible but beautifully annunciated and consistent throughout. Kowaljow is no stranger to U.S. opera houses and has appeared on the West Coast many times. However, his appearance here invited a closer listening this time around since the announcement that he will make his role debut as Wotan in L.A. Opera’s upcoming Ring cycle performances. His performance here is definitely a good omen and it was easy to see him stepping into those godly Wagnerian shoes.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09

l-r: Emily Magee as Marietta, Torsten Kerl as Paul, and Lucas Meachem as Fritz
Photo: Terrence McCarthy/SFO 2008

I’ve finally made it back to San Francisco this weekend to catch up with the opening opera productions of this season. I’ve had some trepidation about this given the decidedly lackluster impression that SFO’s summer productions had on me. But I’ve decided that I may have been a tad unfair about some things back in June given that I was still severely jet-lagged after my trip to Europe. But now I’m back in town, well rested, and ready for some opera.

So why not start off with the just-opened production of Erich Korngold’s Die Tote Stadt. It’s the only German language opera the company is offering in its 08/09 season so you’d think the company would make the most of it. And they do. Under the guidance of the unfortunately outgoing music director Donald Runnicles, the orchestra sounded superb, giving Korngold’s rich, late romantic score the big warm hug it deserves. The company has imported a well-traveled production from Willy Decker that debuted in Vienna and also appeared at the Salzburg Festival. It looks great and has a decidedly psychological bent which works well in this opera which is equal parts Vertigo and Mulholland Drive. Decker’s vision of Paul’s internal world is predominated by ghostly floating images of the dead and floors, walls and ceilings that are warped out of perspective. Marietta and Paul play cat and mouse throughout Act II in a surreal counterpoint to Tristan und Isolde as houses float by and entire sets appear suddenly from the rear of the stage. If there is any real problem with the staging, it’s that it is still quite literal; the dream sequences in the opera are clearly demarcated as such. The real power of Korngold’s work comes when neither Paul, nor the audience, are completely sure about what is real or what is imagined until the very end. Decker makes sure there are always psychological guideposts nearby for all parties. Of course, with the way in which the company slams the multiple large mobile set pieces around throughout the evening it’s hard to avoid snapping back to reality.

The casting here is only partially successful. Paul is performed by Torsten Kerl who's had a decidedly rising profile in the United States over the last few years. After initially seeming underpowered, he unraveled a little into Act III. This provided an ironic complement to Emily Magee’s Marie who was incredibly pitchy throughout Act I and stabilized for about 20 minutes before Kerl lost it—like two vocal trains passing in the night. With the exception of the handsome Lucas Meachem who sang the roles of Frank and Fritz, the rest of the cast was easily overwhelmed by the orchestra throughout, making for a rather unbalanced affair musically. Still, Die Tote Stadt is not a work you get to hear every day, which is a shame given how beautiful it is. As there are so many charming things about this production overall, take this excellent opportunity to see it in its current run through October 12.

Labels: SF Opera 08/09