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Love Among the Ruins
June 26, 2012
Which, if any or all of these, is the case isn’t clear, but no matter how you slice it, the ideas behind this production are bigger than the inept execution of them on stage. Lavia manages to fill the stage with interesting baubles, but then instructs the cast to go out of their way to ignore them. In the end, SFO’s Attila is little more than everyday ordinary stand-and-deliver opera. The vocalists could be standing anywhere singing anything among this particular rubble and it is the lack of integration between players and the physical space they inhabit that is most disheartening about the show. It's 2012 people - you've got to give audiences more than a string of ideas and lovely sets no matter how unusual they may be.
Luckily, the company has managed to gather together a remarkably good cast and with music director Nicola Luisotti in the pit, there was some lovely gutsy Verdi playing to listen to. The star is Feruccio Furlanetto as the Hun who is both a destroyer and the sympathetic heart of the show. Perhaps the most sympathetic interpretation of this mess of a show is that Attila, despite his warlike nature, in the end is himself a victim of the march of history, destined to be forgotten other than as a warlord stock character for Hollywood films. Furlanetto certainly is capable of injecting major amounts of pathos into a character with his voice and he does so brilliantly here even in a part that doesn’t quite always get as much of the center stage as it should. The biggest new surprise for me was Venezuelan soprano Lucrecia Garcia as Odabella. She blazed through this role with a dark, lustrous rich Verdi sound with evenness and agility throughout her range. See her now folks, she's going to be an increasingly familiar name on opera stages and i for one can't wait to hear her again. Quinn Kelsey had his shining moment as well, particularly at the front of Act II as Ezio the Roman general bent on the Hun invaders destruction as much as anyone in this decidedly dark assemblage of characters. Diego Torre's Foresto was a little less certain, but in no way a deterrent to the rest of the proceedings. Of course he, like the rest of the cast, appeared to be largely on their own among the ruins of so many centuries.
Labels: SF Opera 11/12
The Eagle Has Landed
June 23, 2012
On Friday night, I saw the fourth of seven scheduled performances of Nixon in China and would agree with many others that Gockley and his company have brought a near perfect production of this landmark of musical theater to the stage. The 2010 production is from Vancouver Opera and was designed and directed by Michael Cavanagh. It’s the kind of opera whose time and setting strongly dictate the physical look of the show, but Cavanagh and production designer Sean Nieuwenhuis have created something absolutely thrilling to watch despite the inevitable giant portraits of Mao, red furniture, and giant Boeing VC-137C. Like so many opera productions these days, there is copious use of video projections. But unlike most, the video, designed by Nieuwenhuis is spectacularly done, functioning as much more than scenery. At times the images reflect unseen action going on in other parts of the scene. At other times they contain images of the characters themselves as if projecting their own internal thoughts while the story unfolds. The images arrive in unexpected places and don’t just fill a backdrop that here is often comprised of swirling interlaced Chinese and U.S. flags. Note to Robert Lepage - this is how video on stage is done.
But I digress. All this video would mean nothing if it weren’t for another young gun of new(ish) operas, conductor Lawrence Renes. He did himself and San Francisco proud with Adams’ most doctrinaire minimalist score. (Yes, I’m making that last bit up.) The orchestra and vocalists are tightly controlled and in sync throughout despite the score’s frequent repetitive elements. The vocalists are all excellent. Who wouldn’t be in love with Brian Mulligan after his performance as an ebullient almost child-like Nixon. He’ fully engaged and is well paired both with the Mao Tse-Tung of Simon O’Neill and Patrick Carfizzi’s Henry Kissinger. Carfizzi has some of the most brutal stuff in this opera especially in the Act II ballet sequence where Pat Nixon imagines he has become part of the ballet being performed, taking over the role of the cruel, sadistic overlord. Maria Kanyova gets some of the best arias in the whole opera as Pat Nixon, and she made all of these highlights special. When Hye Jung Lee’s Madame Mao shoots Kissinger in the head in this feverish dream sequence, there were at least two shouts of support and applause from this mostly silent and mostly liberal audience. Ms. Lee, of course, get the big Act II closer, “I am the wife of Mao Tse-Tung” and she milks it without any strain or uncertainty. A spot-on performance. But as usual, I was most taken with the character of Chou En-Lai, the Chinese Premiere who was played here by baritone Chen-Ye Yuan. Yuan’s phrasing was superb for Goodman’s gorgeous, poetic libretto.
There were issues that kept the show from being 100 percent on the mark, though. The nasty business of amplifying the singers was one. I’m not opposed to such amplification generally, but I do think that if one is going to do it, the amplification should actually help the balance of sound and not make it worse. The chorus was strangely inaudible for the first thirty minutes and by mid-point the soloists were a bit too loud in contrast to the orchestra. Cavanagh’s directorial choices weren’t always on target either. One of the best parts of Nixon in China is the way Goodman’s lovely libretto slowly pushes the described events into a world of dream-like surrealism. People start to lose it, but they don’t start out that way. Cavanagh, however, couldn’t resist a fair amount of jokiness in the first act, however, with Nixon deplaning with almost cartoonish energy and mannerisms. The table spinning drunken brawl at the end of Act I plays many of the opera’s cards way too early, killing the slowly developing tone of the piece. Still, successes of this size have been rare at SFO this season and the long awaited arrival of Nixon in China is not to be sniffed at. It’s a show worth seeing more than once and it runs through July 3.
Labels: SF Opera 11/12
Stop Me If You Think That You've Heard This One Before
October 31, 2011
The show is somewhat of an import having been seen most recently in Houston in 2010 with the same two stars as well as Heidi Stober as Atalanta and Sonia Prina as Amastris. Of course, to call this show an import from Houston is not really accurate. In fact, Hytner's production, originally for English National Opera is over 25 years old and has been around the block more than a few times. The show is still frisky and fun, though I continue to feel that it does look rather worn around the edges including its increasingly distressed AstroTurf curtain. Hytner went to some length to capture the spirit of the Enlightenment as opposed to ancient Persia where the admittedly non-historical events of the opera are set. Hytner moves the action into spaces reminiscent of the 18th Century Vauxhall pleasure gardens with the characters milling about as spectators in some public showing of Middle Eastern artifacts kept in a series of display cases between canvas lounge chairs and make-shift cafes. But as when I saw the show last time around, there was a tendency to oversimplify Xerxes into little more than a zany comedy. To be fair, this issue was a controversy for Handel as well who inserted much more comedy into Xerxes than was typical for an opera seria at the time, enraging some critics. But there are still moments of pathos and sincere emotional pain for the characters in the show and they still seemed out of place in this version.
As for the quality of the musical performance, much can be said for both Graham and Stober who gave involved, vocally warm turns. Both showed off their excellent comic timing as did Michael Samuel who gets a great bit of drag to do in Act II. Many in the audience were pleased with the robust Sonia Prina whose dark almost husky tone could be heard easily throughout the auditorium. But in all honesty, while I felt there was no one in the cast who was bad, no one really grabbed me by the throat and shook me up either. The other additions to the cast this time around, besides Samuel, included Lisette Oropesa as Romilda and Wayne Tigges as her father Ariodates. Another new face, ironically enough, was Houston Opera’s Music Director Patrick Summers who is conducting all the performances in the San Francisco run. He’s not necessarily the first name you think of when it comes to Baroque opera, and his approach tends to smooth out rough edges as the expense of tension here, but he keeps things moving in an intricate show. So as an introduction to Baroque opera, you could do much worse than this eager-to-please Xerxes. So if you haven't gotten started on the superb operatic works of Handel, here's your chance.
Labels: SF Opera 11/12
Ballpark Figures
September 26, 2011
Things did start off with some bumps, however. This performance was the company’s sixth annual live free simulcast to the giant screen at AT&T Park where thousands of visitors got to eavesdrop on proceedings inside the War Memorial Opera House. This has turned into a popular marketing event, and the company was tweeting like there was no tomorrow throughout the afternoon. As has become the tradition in the house, many of the cast members appeared brandishing Giants paraphernalia during the curtain call. But before the show started, David Gockley appeared and gave a shout out to a corporate sponsor, which he referred to as the best home builders in the Bay Area. A representative from said company then introduced the Giants’ World Series Championship trophy, which he said would be on loan to the opera house for the last few days before it goes elsewhere. He additionally made sure that the audience in the outfield knew that “Nessun Dorma” was the number that shot Brit TV tenor Paul Potts to fame and to be sure to stick around to Act III to hear it. (And some people are worried that Twitter and Spotify are going to kill off classical music.)
Gockley then told us we would sing the national anthem. That is until he was corrected and he then told us that it would only be sung at the ball park. Of course, San Francisco Opera audiences have gotten very used to this these days so all of this confusion sparked of a good bit of clucking in the auditorium. As it turned out, though, we had plenty of time to sing it anyway, considering that it took the next 15 minutes or so to repair the front curtain, which failed to go up after conductor Nicola Luisotti had already started the performance. He stopped, of course, leaving the audience in an awkward silence that was periodically filled out with all sorts of shouted commentary meant to entertain including a spontaneous round of the Star-Spangled Banner. As it turns out, one doesn’t need a giant multimillion dollar machine of a set in order to delay the start of an opera, a good old-fashioned malfunctioning stage curtain will do it just as well.
Of course, the performance that followed this was actually quite good. Hockney and Falconer’s design is colorfully lurid and this time around the company had packed the stage with a super-sized chorus and supernumeraries galore for the complete grand opera effect. The chorus was excellent and the soloists recruited for the first half of this run were uniformly first rate. Iréne Theorin is a Wagnerian soprano in much demand these days and she delivered one of the best Turandots I’ve heard on a major stage in recent years. Her tone was even and piercing and she handled the tessitura with ease. She can project a regal air and her voice never turned shrill. Marco Berti sang Calaf. He seemed to be saving himself in the first act, but considering that he delivered the goods later on, it only seemed fair. And Leah Crocetto’s Liu felt like a major arrival. Crocetto is a recent Merola Fellow and she shone brightly here with real vocal tenderness and strength. I have heard her onstage in Los Angeles as well, and this Liu definitely makes me eager to hear her sing more. Music Director Nicola Luisotti was in the pit for the only production he's helmed so far this year in San Francisco. He took an approach not unlike Gustavo Dudamel did in Los Angeles over the summer looking for all the pumped up energy to make the biggest big moments possible. It was certainly dramatic, though musically it did sacrifice some detail and musicality. But with a show that's pulling out all the stops elsewhere, it's what you'd expect and this Turandot certainly delivers with some big excitement.
Labels: SF Opera 11/12
The Secret Life of Bs
September 24, 2011
San Francisco Opera opened its third production of the 2011/2012 season on Friday. There was no giant animated flag this time and the orchestra didn’t kick off the show with the National Anthem. Apparently Donizetti’s Lucrezia Borgia doesn’t stir the same love of country that operas about 9/11 do. However, when the curtain rose, there was a giant sign suspended from above with the name and crest of the Borgia clan. But all things being equal, it might as well have said “Renée” considering this show is first and foremost a star vehicle for America’s most eminent soprano. Ms. Fleming stood below the sign bathed in golden light as her character glanced around at the slow-motion carnage around her. When David Gockley took over the directorship of this company several seasons back, he promised new emphasis and raised new dollars to support bringing the biggest stars back to San Francisco. Part of what that's meant so far is quasi-vanity projects like Placido Domingo’s return to the Bay Area for the first time in over a decade last fall for Alfano’s Cyrano de Bergerac. Lucrezia Borgia brings Ms. Fleming back to San Francisco for the first time in a decade in a role that she is not well known for and was the role she was notoriously booed for at La Scala in 1998.
After seeing her sing this again, it is true that anyone with even a passing interest in bel canto technique will not likely be taken with her star turn in this role. She herself suggested in a tweet earlier on Friday (above) that this run of Lucrezia Borgia will serve as a farewell to bel canto roles for her such as Rossini’s Armida, which she has sung at the Metropolitan Opera over the last two seasons. But it must be said that an artist like Renée Fleming does not get to where she is at by turning in unattractive performances, and she does deliver a performance here that is entertaining and masterful in what she is able to accomplish in a role that many observers might not feel she is best suited for. She does manage beautifully smooth lines even if they do lack some of the regular acrobatic embellishments. It’s not a harsh or lazy reading and she acts very well here as a mother with some very serious homicidal tendencies.
There are other lovely voices in the cast. A surprisingly chesty Michael Fabiano is cast as Lucrezia’s son Gennaro who is attracted to this most reviled of women who he does not suspect is his long lost mother. Fabiano is athletic sounding and involving here if not as Italianate as one might wish. His buddy/lover Maffio Orsini is sung by Elizabeth DeShong complete with fake stubble. She provides wonderful contrast in her duets and has great energy with Fabiano, although I found her a little underpowered for my taste in the first act. Perhaps the most completely satisfying performance came from bass Vitalij Kowaljow who wowed audiences in Los Angeles as Wotan last year and will be making several appearances there and here in San Francisco this season. His turn as the Duke was dark and vocally muscular communicating evil with his voice as much with his physical appearance.
The rest of the show’s elements are less promising. Conductor Riccardo Frizza, who led Fleming’s Armida performances in New York, led a rather turgid and lumbering orchestral performance. There was little zing in any of this show musically, and everything sounded leisurely paced. John Pascoe’s 2008 production for Washington National Opera was revived here. I didn’t like it then and I didn’t like it much better on a second viewing with its science fiction inspired costumes and bland castle-wall sets. The only real sacrilege in the current show is the use of "party" as a verb in the English supertitles, but I don't think the physical production itself won many fans. Fabiano manages to pull off Gennaro’s spiky blond wig as well as Vittorio Grigolo did in that previous run. But neither his nor Ms. Fleming’s ample cleavage manages to add much sex or depravity for a story chock full of it. Pascoe doesn't completely ignore the homosexual subtext of this story, but outside of what's in the libretto, you could be forgiven for not noticing it played out on stage otherwise. Come to think of it, for an opera about two serial killers this show can be awfully user friendly at times. Think of it as Dexter with worse costumes.
Which is to say that while San Francisco Opera's run of Lucrezia Borgia came off as underwhelming, it was not unenjoyable. If you come wanting to see and hear a big operatic star and other promising vocal performances you won't be disappointed. You've got until October 11 to see for yourself.
Labels: SF Opera 11/12
The Unforgotten
September 11, 2011
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Ten years ago, the unthinkable happened. Thousands died in a terrorist attack on U.S. soil and many things changed for everyone, especially for those who were injured or lost loved ones. There has been much written and said about what is and isn’t appropriate to say and do in memory of these events on this 10-year anniversary. Artists and those who follow them closely have debated what constitutes an appropriate artistic response. Some things have apparently turned out not to be OK, like using photographs of smoke billowing from the Twin Towers for a recording cover. Others appear to be more acceptable. Where San Francisco Opera’s world premiere production of Christopher Theofanidis’ Heart of a Soldier lies is as debatable as anything else. Saturday’s audience received it warmly if not ecstatically. There were certainly many tears in the house, and while they may have been tears of recognition, they weren't exactly tears of catharsis. Heart of a Soldier may remind people of painful events, but it is not good art.
The opera itself feels like a strange antiquity despite its contemporary newsworthiness. Theofanidis and librettist Donna Di Novelli have crafted an opera where heroism is as uncomplicated and sentimental as anything from the 19th century. John Adams was often accused of writing "CNN-operas" ripped from the day's headlines. But after seeing Heart of a Soldier one realizes nothing could be farther from the truth. Adams' work is filled with moments that are abstract and lyrical. By contrast Heart of a Soldier is like watching the History Channel. The opera, based on James B Stewart’s biography of the same name, takes up the life of a truly heroic real person, Rick Rescorla. Rescorla had already been a hero many times over in armed conflicts around the world by the time he became head of security for Morgan Stanley in New York. His story is tied to the events of September 11, 2001, in that he died while saving the lives of thousands of people. And to be honest, Heart of a Soldier is less of a “9/11 opera” than a biographical one about Rescorla’s life. Only the last 15 minutes of the two-hour evening have much to do with actual events of that day.
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Leading up to that finale are a series of daring-dos for the Rescorla character. He is drenched in the blood of a lion he’s killed to save a village in 1960s Rhodesia. He ignores the commands of his superiors in Vietnam to go back across enemy lines to save his friend Dan Hill, played here by William Burden. It’s seamless and quickly paced and boring as anything. The action is so packed that while the lines are sung, there is very little operatic about it. There is too much to get through for any internal reflection or poetry, and the music is inconsequential background noise. It’s not until some strain develops between Hill and Rescorla at the end of Act I, which concludes with Hill converting to Islam, that the opera actually shows any signs of life. Act II fares better when we watch Rescorla, a completely committed Thomas Hampson, begin to exhibit an actual personality while courting his soon-to-be second wife Susan. In the final sequence on the day of the attacks, Rescorla goes to work but is strangely not given a place of prominence in the vocal music or action in favor of the chorus. I’m not certain the opera's creators and director Francesco Zambello have much to say outside of the facts of the story. And maybe that’s still all we Americans are up to handling right now in terms of coming to grips with this tragedy.
There are virtually no sets in Heart of a Soldier to speak of. There are scrims and a couple of backdrops mostly for video projection of maps of far away places. There are two four-story towers with stairwells meant to evoke the Twin Towers that are revealed when appropriate to the story line. When the towers are stuck, the chorus members on the several floors fall to the ground and video imagery of falling sheets of paper are superimposed. This is one of the few instances where Theofanidis’ score rises above bland background decoration. The impact on the towers is as sudden and unexpected as the interruption of the musical lines. The choral writing here, with the workers in the second tower expressing their fear and confusion about what to do is emotionally striking. But you have to go a very long way in this show to get to this.
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The principals, Hampson, Burden, and Melody Moore, who plays Susan Rescorla, all availed themselves admirably. Burden was the biggest vocal hero of the evening. He should have an even bigger career, like the one Brandon Jovanovich has right now, and he is as exciting to watch in this as anywhere. Thomas Hampson is onstage throughout this whole show and quite believable, what with the quality of what he's given to sing. Moore's bright, clear soprano is pleasing. Patrick Summers led the opera orchestra and did his best with a score that keeps the instrumentalists completely out of the opera's way.
All of these proceedings were wrapped up in some unusual and discomforting occurrences. Before the show, a group of 9/11 conspiracy theory fanatics were ensconced outside the hall with a large inflatable elephant handing out pamphlets. At least one of them purchased a ticket and strolled around the lobby during intermission with his t-shirt encouraging audience members to question reality. The opera had stationed men and women in military uniform at the doors as assistant ushers and the whole thing kicked off with the National Anthem complete with waving flag projected on the stage’s scrim. It was a bizarre mix of paranoia and sadness with just a subtle dash of jingoism that made the evening feel even stranger than it already did considering the lackluster musical and dramatic qualities of the show. But opera, as does life, goes on. Whether or not Heart of a Soldier will be seen by other companies clamoring to restage the events of one of America’s most recent fateful days remains to be seen. Which is a shame for the real Rick Rescorla. He deserves a better opera than the one he got this time around.
Labels: SF Opera 11/12
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