Ann Murray Masterclass at the Royal Academy

18/09/2012
Royal Academy

Ann Murray is one of those singers who you can trust will always give a good performance, where there's simply no question about dramatic commitment or mastery of the notes. In that she reminds me of John Tomlinson - it's not that they are perfect singing actors, but neither seem capable of doing anything on stage that would for a moment suspend your belief in the character that is being presented in front of you at that moment. Which is probably a large part of why I admire both so intensely. They are as natural on stage as you can be in the unnatural world of opera.

With her brightly flashing eyes, Irish wit, and rapid fire way of talking and moving she is easy to like in the masterclass situation. You can't imagine that she could ever be idle for very long - she's too interested in people and her art form - everything seems urgent and important, and communication and intent seem to be the things that most excite her and where her focus is in instruction. Technique was never mentioned, but how to use the notes to say something musically along with the words certainly was. She's funny too, but only to dispel worries and create an atmosphere conducive to risk taking; she has no interest in regaling us with witty anecdotes about famous conductor X or Tenor Y. She demonstrated occasionally, and we got to hear her toss off some Donna Anna coloratura(!), not to show off of course, but only to better explain when a student was finding it difficult to make expressive these difficult passages and where demonstration seemed to be a better way of showing than words. She still has a lot of voice left, and the strength of intent is palpable in her sound and her body every time, even in the smallest phrase.

As is so often the case, the young students found it difficult to take on her suggestions even when they were relatively simple like where to accent a phrase. It always seems so surprising sitting in the audience of a masterclass when the teacher keeps asking a student to change something like for instance singing something with more forward momentum, and the adjustment the student makes each time is so negligible as to seem almost laughable. Presumably the student is really trying and thinks they are being wildly different, but it shows you how difficult is to truly listen to yourself as a musician, and also how much muscle memory plays a part in singing a phrase, and why changing bad technique, let alone an interpretation is so difficult for so many singers. These things take repetition over days and weeks and months to change, but really it is the freedom that an excellent technique provides that is the ultimate key - technique is as much about having options with regard to singing a phrase than it is about singing faster or in becoming efficient in terms of muscle and energy usage.

On one occasion at least though, Murray helped the student to go from a moderately good piece of Handel singing, to a breathtaking moment of drama as Caeser pictures his father while realising what he must become at the beginning of the eponymous opera. By focussing and guiding the student's gestures and emotion not only did her acting improve but miraculously the singing too - it's this sort of intensity that separates the big time singers from those that are merely competent.

I wasn't so impressed with the young singers this time, though I did manage to hear Sarah-Jane Lewis again, this time in French repertoire, which seemed to be living up to its reputation as the hardest language to sing in. The voice was still wonderfully lustrous (especially in Duparc's La vie antérieure), but she seemed to sing with greater ease and fluency in the Italian Mozart arias I heard last time.

A worthwhile and enjoyable few hours.

Le Nozze di Figaro at Glyndebourne

08/07/2012

Quite a while ago now, but better late than never? This production (directed by Michael Grandage) was a frustrating as it seemed to have such potential as a concept, but had so many ideas that no one followed through with, and aside from the updating it didn't feel like there was enough risk taking or sense of purpose. At least it wasn't updated to the 50's.

photo by Alastair Muir

Putting Figaro in the Alhambra is cool - despite its setting being clearly set out in Da Ponte's libretto, Spanish references in productions of this opera are usually few and far between, so it's nice to bring out this element for a change. But here it changed nothing about the presentation of the action or the drama, and in the end this was as traditional a production as I have ever seen. Why bother making the Islamic reference if you're not going to follow up on it?* Just to look pretty?

Even more pointless was setting it in the early 70's - this creates problems because the whole plot centres around avoidance of the Almavida's Feudal right (and no attempt was made to address this anachronism), but added nothing in terms of casting the drama in a new light. My instant thought was that if they'd made it a commune (all the rage at that time), with Almaviva as the head honcho, he may well have had a "right" to the women in the commune, and he'd still be a figure of (abusive) power. Also, the Count cannot be a truly threatening character due only to his status in the 70's because there were of course by that time severe limitations on his power and what he could do to his servants. For there to be a real sense of dread he'd simply have to be a physically or psychologically threatening man (which he wasn't at all here) but then this would render certain character's actions inexplicable without some further serious character regie. I don't like when things are just glossed over. I've seen reviewers suggest that this weakening of the Count is a strength of the production (e.g. Rupert Christiansen of all people!) - it's not, it undermines the drama.

photo by Alastair Muir

I missed too the painful edge of this opera, the bitter tang of every trick which rebounds and causes almost as much suffering on the trick player as the victim. This idea is taken up by Da Ponte less subtly in Cosi Fan Tutte, and in fact becomes the central thrust of the drama, but in Figaro it's just one of a number of important interlocking elements. Itis of course also so beautifully encapsulated in Mozart's music that it's impossible to ignore; when it is, as here, the whole things falls flat and ends up being rather bland - nothing more than non threatening buffoonery, japes and mild humour. Of course there were roars of laughter every time people danced in a 70s style to Mozart's music. People are so very easily pleased.

As to Christopher Oram's sets - I have to say that though very detailed, I thought lots of the scenery was rather crudely rendered and far less beautiful than actual examples of Islamic architecture and ceramics of this period. One big problem was that both the window and the main door of the the Countess' bedroom were deeply recessed into the right hand wall and so key points of the action in Act 2 (Cherubino's jump, and the locking of the doors) were invisible to half the audience. So unecessary.

The cast were very young, each debuing their role as far as I can tell, and though youth is entirely appropriate in this piece, their inexperience showed. Michael Grandag 's direction, which is detailed but quite unspecific, rendered characters generic and largely uninteresting, with emotional content relegated to the background, and larger dramatic arches left undernourished. But more experienced singers can often transcend an indifferent production and at least effect something special in their own parts. Overall I found it hard to feel too much for any of the characters.

photo by Alastair Muir

Sally Matthew's Countess was vocally by some distance the most impressive cast member, but due to the production seemed short of genuine pathos, and so failed to move the heart. The costumes saw to it that she couldn't be elegant or graceful, but I'm not sure the voice is quite right either for capturing this character's poise, warmth or softness. A few months ago I wrote about her voice as it sounded close up in the Wigmore Hall, and my impression wasn't all that different here - it's superbly produced, extremely even, technically very secure, but also extremely covered which gives it a shiny, but rather dark and steely unfeminine edge. The top gleams, but it's laser like rather than crystalline. I love her Fiordiligi here and here and I think it's probably a much more interesting role for her.

Lydia Teuscher's Susanna was quite nice, but in voice types this common one can afford to be very picky, and she offerend nothing truly distinctive. I thought she was occasionally quite hoarse in the upper register too. Vito Priante's Figaro was also decently sung but overall slightly bland. Audun Iversen's Count Almaviva was more interesting vocally, but had too many comedy double takes (which the crowd ate up) to be credible. Isabel Leonard made a decent Cherubino, nicely sung, but again failed to be very memorable. All the supporting roles were adequately taken (except for Ann Murray's Marcellina who was far more than adequate - such a natural presence on stage, and still far more than acceptable vocally).

Robin Ticciati was in the pit and all eyes are surely on him at the moment since he was announced last season as Glyndebourne's next music director, succeeding Jurowski in 2014 (with a rumoured Rosenkavalier, another Glyndebourne classic). I was absolutely enthralled by his Don Giovanni last season with the OAE which was full blooded, ultra detailed and thrillingly intense. His Figaro was also very good, sensittively played and carefully thought out, but it felt a bit too much like the production: all a bit subdued and soft, lacking piquancy and bite. Still he's profoundly musical and has excellent rapor with his musicians who manage to play superbly apparently in spite of his almost obstinate lack of clear beat. He's so young too - I have no fears whatsoever about his take over (though at the moment Jurowski seems quite determined to make us regret that he's going with superlative performances every time.)

Perhaps surprisingly, this Figaro is a co production with the Met, a much larger stage, so presumably the sets will all have to be rebuilt for then. Hopefully they'll hire some experts in Islamic art, improve the look of it, and iron out some of the set's problems. Although it is an updating that will no doubt receieve some grumbles when it crosses the pond, there is nothing here at all to challenge the arch conservative Met audience intellectually, morally or emotionally.

*In fact, it gave me such a good idea for a production but I don't want to write it here for fear that the idea will be stolen!

Rigoletto and La Fille du Regiment at the ROH

I am so behind with my reviews and have so little time at the moment, that I thought I'd just combine these. Both of these productions have been revived several times so I'll dispense with a long discussion of either. In any case I'm not a huge fan of either work so will keep it brief.


Last time I saw David McVicar's "brothel" Rigoletto (with Hvorostovsky and Ciofi) I quite enjoyed it, but this time the whole thing felt like a rather drab affair. Without McVicar to rehearse the cast, many scenes seemed to lack energy, and the orgy almost seems by wrote.

Dimitri Platanias was vocally completely up to the role of Rigoletto, but he completely failed to interract with anyone else on stage delivering all his lines facing the audience, sometimes not even inclined towards the person he was meant to be addressing. Not a terribly engaged performance then. He also didn't seem to get the point of the sticks at all - he was just walking around and moving the sticks, rather than using the sticks as a vital crutch and dragging his loping form around behind them. I only mention it because Hvorostovsky managed it so superbly last time, and its key to McVicar's conception. As I say, vocally Platanias was more than capable, but equally I was never drawn in.

Desirée Rancatore had apparently flown in that morning to replace a sick Ekaterina Siurina, and managed OK, though the top is over covered, and not always fully in gear. Yes, yes, it's hard to step in at such short notice, so let's not be too hard on her, I know, I know. Amazing that she managed to act as well as she did given that she almost certainly was just walked through the staging once in half an hour.

And onto Grigolo... What to say? The voice is certainly exciting, the top notes unstrained and ringing, and he certainly has a decent technique. But he has absolutely no taste or any hint of what might be appropriate, mangling rhythms, constantly flipping between pianissimo and fortissimo and always pushing the voice to past the point where it is beautiful. Acting wise too, he'll never make one gesture where five will do, and always the most clichéed hand sweeps and dancing lunges. In Act I it was almost laughable, but in Act II he did produce some wonderful singing at key moments, though of course lapsing into the ridiculous immediately afterwards.

Christine Rice and Matthew Rose were my favourite voices as Maddalena and Sparafucile. Rice doesn't have a particularly beautiful voice it seems, but she sounded very good - firm, flexible and she's very likeable on stage. I await her O Don Fatale next season... Rose I'm convinced will turn out to be a major force in a few years time, especially when the voice matures into the larger Wagner roles. He's being very sensible and biding his time, and though he's not always very natural on stage, this is a voice with enormous potential I think.

Gardiner in the pit I liked quite a lot, though he didn't make me like the work any more. The Act II quartet to the end is where most of the interest is for me musically, and it was very beautifully played here.



Laurent Pelly's production of La Fille du Régiment has been done a lot at the ROH, the Met and elsewhere and it's a charmer, about as good a production I can imagine of this work. So much beautiful detail lavished on this piece of flim flam! Thing is, it is still a star vehicle, and though the soloists that the ROH have hired are both good, neither are box office draws, and given that they've done it quite recently with Dessay and Florez it's no wonder that it's not selling well. Do they not imagine these things ahead of time?

Anyway, Patrizia Ciofi as Marie is a real surprise - who knew that she could do comedy? She's great in the part. Again it's not a beautiful voice, sounding quite metallic above the stave and disappearing completely below it, but to me it's no less beautiful than Dessay's these days. She's not a virtuoso like Dessay though, so the coloratura isn't all that impressive, though she definitely sings every note.

I don't know if I'm the only one, but the famous 9 high Cs of Ah! Mes Amis... do very little for me. Colin Lee dispatched them with ease, and he's a more charming stage presence perhaps than Florez, but again, he doesn't have the same star quality vocally. I have to say that I'm not the biggest Florez fan (to me this is quite ugly singing), but obviously I recognize his immense talent.

All the other roles were charmingly taken. Ann Murray as La Marquise de Berkenfield is superb, cutting a dashingly elegant figure. Alan Opie is equally good as Sulpice.

Ann Widdecombe however... oh dear. On previous outings we've had Dawn French who was predictably hilarious. As La Duchesse de Crackentorp, Widdecombe is not a car crash, but she's far from great. They could have chosen anyone. Why her? She's not even an actress. Rumour has it that originally we were meant to get Dame Edna Everage this time, but she pulled out. What a shame.

Right. Onto the next review!

Figaro at ROH

And so we come to the last opera of the "Da Ponte cycle", which is actually the first. Figaro is the most perfect Mozart opera in my opinion, which is to say the most perfect opera of all. Every number is not just superbly beautiful as in Cosi and Don Giovanni, but also memorable, dramatically apt, emotionally revealing - the musical and dramatic means are never at odds. The characters are beautifully drawn, likeable, three dimensional, alive with real feelings always exquisitely revealed in the vocal line even when it might be lacking in the text, the action is subtle, nuanced, multi layered, and the orchestra teems with a soft hued delicacy and felicitous brilliance more refined than anything he achieved before or after.*

Just as he did with Meistersinger, McVicar updates the action to the Regency era. The political undertones of the opera (more explicit in the original Beaumarchais play), the theme of master and servant and class frictions, were again very pertinent during this era of course, so the updating makes perfect sense in that way. McVicar doesn't force the point though, and he introduces nothing major that is not in Da Ponte's libretto, nor does he leave anything out: mainly this is a way to do something new visually with the piece and avoid the crinolines and fussy 18th century decor which can be so distracting when badly done.

And it's wonderful. The beautifully capacious sets, all high windows and creme panelling, together with the always sensitive lighting of Paule Constable gives the whole thing a soft, fresh aired luminosity and allows the cast to breath in the space. Tanya McCallin designed both the sets and costumes which gave the piece an aesthetic unity. Act changes are all deftly and smoothly handled with huge moving panels and sections which never seem cheap or clunky. Everything, in other words, is working in perfect accord.

The cast work wonderfully together too, revival direction by Leah Hausman keeping things feeling spontaneous. The casting is excellent, not just vocally but in terms of the dramatic temperament and even the physical stature of each singer as well. Rachel Willis Sorensen makes a gorgeous Countess, vocally polished, controlled and expressive, actually pretty astonishing considering she is just 28 years old. She might be someone very special indeed. She really plays the part beautifully too: poised, restrained in her gestures and with a serene countenance entirely befitting her role. She is also very tall, towering statuesquely over Figaro, Susanna and the rest of the cast so looks great on stage. Lucas Meachem is a superb Count (so much so that one didn't regret Keenlyside's recent withdrawal from the part) displaying the requisite suave assurance and composure of the character, with vocal acting that was sophisticated and commanding. I liked him very much much last summer as Don Giovanni at Glyndebourne but here he was even stronger, and the role seemed to fit better.

Ildebrando D'Arcangelo has a wonderfully rich bass-baritone voice which is just a pleasure to hear. There's a tendency only to boom and the voice isn't well supported when he sings quietly, but it's such a lovely voice, and he's a charmingly affable and sexually appealing enough Figaro that this doesn't matter much at all. The chemistry with Aleksandra Kurzak as Susanna was palpable, and though Kurzak has a tendency to overact, she was very good here I thought, with less of the mugging I've seen her do in the past. Vocally too she seemed very at ease, producing some lovely things, even if not quite as special as her colleagues. The lesser parts were brilliantly and characterfully taken by Ann Murray (as Marcellina), Carlo Lepore (a slightly camp Bartolo) and Jeremy White (Antonio) - luxury casting all. With such talent on offer it seemed a shame that their arias should be cut in Act IV. Susana Gaspar made a minute Barbarina, reminding us that she is meant to be twelve years old (as Anna Gottlieb, the first singer of this role was in 1786) making it all the seemier that the Count might have been after her. The voice is sweet and apt for the role though the part never seems big enough to really be able to judge the quality of a singer. The only real disappointment in the cast was Anna Bonitatibus as a rather wispy and breathy Cherubino, finely acted though it was.


What McVicar understands so well about this opera is not just the dramatic pacing and the relationships that need to be carefully sculpted, but also the spiritual difference between the different characters - the Count and Countess' travails really do contain something more painful and earnest, their reconciliation far more meant and heartfelt because more was at risk - things that the servants simply do not fully fathom. Thus Mozart adds a considerable amount of ambiguity to this apparent class satire and critique of the upper classes. McVicar really makes sure every detail of every character is right, and while there are only a few original touches, it's just satisfying for being so meticulous. The finale of Act II is one of the very greatest things that Mozart ever wrote and here it was wonderfully done - not just musically, but dramatically every gesture spoke and was reflected in the text and especially the music - that McVicar listens to the music so intently for clues is one of his greatest strengths.

Pappano's conducting of this score is absolutely superb, really truly beautiful. The joy he gets from it is so clearly communicated to his musicians who respond in kind. The pacing and instrumental balance was always meticulously well planned and executed: the difference between this sort of playing and the Cosi I saw two weeks before is amazing, and it is worlds apart from the Don Giovanni I witnessed. The ROH orchestra can and will play superbly for conductors they really like!

The best operatic experience I've had in a long while. It's almost sold out, so you might have to queue on the day for a ticket, but few productions this season have been as good as this one.


*(sorry, I can't put it better than I did before!)