Don Carlo at ROH: Take 2

08/05/13

See my main review here for my main comments on this show.

Sadly and perhaps too predictably, Anja Harteros cancelled (suffering from "acute tonsillitis" as we were assured by Kasper Holten at the start of the show) so thank god she did turn up for the first night at least. (As a side note, I don't know where Intermezzo gets her information from, but I have heard a conflicting account of Harteros' future hiring at the ROH - i.e. that there are future contracts.)

Her replacement was Lianna Haroutounian, an Armenian soprano making her ROH debut (and already stepping to fill the final four perfomances of this run of Don Carlo which Harteros cancelled a couple of months ago.) She understandably got a huge cheer at the end of the night, but aside from a reasonably good "Tu che le vanità" I found this to be a rather lacklustre performance. Until then the chest and middle voice had been very modest indeed, and throughout the timbre was curiously unvibrant and not very attractive. She is a very controlled singer at least, though her high notes were consistently a shade flat.

I forgot to mention in my main review that Eric Halfvarson had a throat infection during the first night performance, though one hardly noticed. Here he was on even finer form, his voice more focused and powerful, and his Act IV solo passages and then the duet with King Philip II (Ferruccio Furlanetto) were even more thrilling than they were on the first night. Staggering.

Béatrice Uria-Monzon was on better form too with a marginally more accurate Veil Song, and a quite brilliant "O Don Fatale". I was trying to work out what made her so engaging to watch on stage, but couldn't put my finger on it. She moves a lot which can often be distracting and can come across as nervyness or mugging in other performers, but here she just seemed to live onstage, and her exceptional grace and fluidity of movement meant that there was never any question of the problems mentioned. It's always tempting to call it "naturalness" onstage, that is there is nothing artificial that draws attention to the actor rather than the character, but I'm not sure that that is specific enough. And it's not just looks - yes she's naturally beautiful, but there are other beautiful singers around who are not captivating onstage in this way. In any case, I felt sorry for her at the curtain call because she got such modest cheers compared to the others, I'm guessing for the same reasons I gave in my main review: for me she will stick most in my mind I'm sure along with Halfvarson and Furlanetto. Will have to keep thinking what made her so appealing.

Which brings me to Jonas Kaufmann, and something that was slightly nagging me after the first performance. Yes he is a spectacular singer, and probably the best tenor on earth. But actually, having seen his Carlos twice now, there's actually very little that is memorable about what he was doing. Whether this was the lack of matching of voice and repertoire (however expertly performed), or a lack of sympathy with the direction of this production, there was something slightly generic about this performance, acting and singing wise, even although it was committed. Again I'm comparing him to his own high standards so make of this what you will.

The other thing that this performance brought to mind was this: I think I'm one of the few people that prefers the four act version of Don Carlos. I seem to read endlessly that the five act version is preferable because it gives more context for the story and characters, but musically Act I of the five act version is easily the thinnest Act, and I don't think it actually does explain their relationship that well. Why is Carlos so desperately and helplessly infatuated? Why is he so totally incapacitated by this love? These questions are not answered by the music or libretto of Act I, so a director really needs to do something extra here to justify it. I think usually it's going to be much stronger if we implicitly supply our own ideas and backstory - imagination based on suggestion is usually more powerful than literal presentation because it's not so pat, so closed, so explained - we can apply our own truth/reasoning/psychologising to an ambiguity whereas we are forced to either accept or reject a director's explicit idea if we are presented with it. Obviously there's a line, and it cant be too abstracted or open or its alienating or just confusing, but there's a huge middle ground here. Additionally there's the matter of the lovely music cut from the four act version to make room for the new First Act in the five Act version. Hmm.

Don Carlo at the Royal Opera House with Jonas Kaufmann, Anja Harteros and Ferrucio Furlanetto

04/05/13

With its superb cast this production has been possibly the most eagerly anticipated ROH show of the season, and despite a slightly tepid start, it soon completely lives up to the highest expectations.

Director Nicholas Hytner (revival direction by Paul Higgins) takes an interesting approach to the piece, which while it doesn't at all neglect its Grand Opera status, does reinterpret many characters' motivations and attitudes. First and foremost is the relationship between Elisabeth de Valois (Anja Harteros) and Don Carlos (Jonas Kaufmann). They are not at all credible as an erotic couple - their Act I romance is presented as a childish daliance, and in the central acts, Elisabeth is not really very tempted by Carlos' advances and hysterical overtures. This all changes when she learns of her husband's infidelity, and so in Act V we see her idealise and rationalise the whole affair with Carlos to suit her new psychological exigencies (and it must be said that the newfound dreamy, unearthly beauty of her music seems to suggest a very profound change in her). Throughout Don Carlos is presented as a slightly hysterical, even goonish character - it's difficult to understand why he is so totally distraught and obsessed about this failed engagement. Many scenes end with a prison wall coming down at the front of the stage, leaving him alone showing that mentally he is in prison long before he is physically locked up. In the calmly and movingly acted final Act, the two of them seem more like brother and sister, or even "mother and son" as they refer to each other, all in line with the repeated allusions in the libretto. The father/son dynamic of King Philip and Carlos is conspicuously and surely deliberately absent.

The real romantic couple of the drama is revealed to be a homoerotic one - that is the relationship between Carlos and Posa - again subtly achieved and suggested, and never fully consummated but very obviously intended to be there, at least from Posa's side. Their physical and emotional intimacy perfectly mirrors the text and makes total sense of the otherwise slightly troublesome sacrifice that Posa chooses to make. As I say all this comes completely from the libretto and never seems wilfully added or out of kilter with text, and nor is it some hideously over the top "Broke back Carlos" idea.

Bob Crowley's designs are hit and miss. The general aesthetic is rather minimalist with very strong colours to characterise each scene. The snow scape of Act I is about as unevocative and clumsily executed as can be imagined - visually a mess with ugly and nonsensical white panels whose only function seems to be to cover the sides of the stage. The dark cathedral in Act II however (which returns in Act V) is the total opposite: maximum atmosphere is created with the most economic means - a row of pillars, a tomb and strongly directional lighting is all that is required. For the "Veil Song" in Act II we revert to ugly crudeness, which continues into Act III's horrid garden and the Auto-da-fé scene, though the latter is saved by a stunning and shocking coup de théâtre as we see the bodies burning on stakes during the closing bars. Brilliant visual boldness and subtlety is restored in Act IV and V in the prison like cavern of Philip's study, Carlos' actual prison, and then the return the oppressive majesty and mystery of the Cathedral.

As an overall evening it works well - though I must admit that I was slightly disappointed after Act III and thought that this had been an opportunity missed. But it all pulls together in Acts IV and V and becomes the stunning piece of theatre that this cast in this opera promised to be. Part of this is surely due to Verdi's score. These last two acts (and particularly Act IV) stand with Boccanegra, the Requiem and Falstaff at the very Summit of Verdi's musical and dramatic achievement. Ferruccio Furlanetto could scarcely be bettered as Philip vocally or dramatically and at 64 (later this month) it's a miracle his voice still sounds so fantastic. His aria and duet with Eric Halfvarson's equally impressive Grand Inquisitor was fully the highlight that it should be in the opera, and set the extraordinarily high standard for the rest of the evening.

The Act V aria "Tu che le vanità" was simply the best singing I have ever heard from Anja Harteros. While eminently decent in the first three acts, there were issues - the middle register was sounding hard and overdarkened, and dramatically she seemed slightly blank. But then in Act IV the voice became much more focussed and beautiful, and by Act V we got phrase after phrase of truly superb singing. The chest register was wonderfully coloured and supported, the middle finally warmed, and the top so large and full that I just instantly thought Sieglinde (O hehrstes Wunder!). Acting wise as well the turning point came in Act IV with Eboli's admission of guilt. I had problems with her Desdemona last season, but I finally get why everyone loves her so much. Wonderful.

Jonas Kaufmann followed a similar trajectory over the evening going from merely good in the early stages, to totally wonderful in Act V. What is abundantly clear is that he's absolutely in his prime and the world's leading tenor in the lyric-spinto repertoire; I hardly need describe the virtues of the voice. The issue comes with the Italian repertoire and whether his voice is ideally appropriate for it. As I say there is no question that he is the best in the world at this Verdi repertoire at the moment, but taking the longer range view, since this is a voice of shall we say "historic" importance, I think it's prudent to think on where he can make the biggest contribution to the art form and create the greatest legacy given that he'll be allowed to sing anything he asks to do at this stage. The issue is that his very distinctive sound and extraordinary evenness in all registers derives partly from a great deal of vocal cover, the flip side of which is that there is just no squillo (aka Italianate "ping") in the voice to speak of. On CD/DVD this is a very difficult thing to get an accurate picture of, but in the theatre it's very obvious. Though his singing is founded on Italianate "bel canto" principles of long lines, legato, clean attack and perfect blend of registers, I'd argue that the timbre, his temperament and the particular bent of his artistry towards text and word shading make him much better suited to the German repertoire. Of course it's his career, he thrives on diversity, he'll sing what he loves and no one is ever going to complain. But when are we getting him in London in a major Wagner role for instance? Anyway.

Béatrice Uria-Monzon had been substituted for the originally billed Christine Rice who is recovering from a rather serious illness. Though I sorely missed Rice, and suspect that in the final assessment she would have made a superior Eboli, I was nonetheless largely very happy with Uria-Monzon's very distinctive interpretation. I very much like the voice - though it's far from having the most beautiful timbre, with some squall in the upper regions, and it's maybe a touch small for the role, the chest register is incredibly dark and dense and dirty in the Callas mould, she sings with colours, and everything she sings seems to matter. She only got moderate cheers at the curtain which I suspect was partly because of the not very accurate coloratura in the Veil Song and uneven timbre across the voice, but I like any woman who can act, make me care about what she's singing, and bark those low notes like a beast. I also have to love an Eboli who is for once more physically alluring than her soprano rival.

As Posa, Mariusz Kwiecień was in very fine voice, with a beautiful, well blended and very large sound, not a single note strained, and his arias beautifully delivered. A slight blandness in approach stopped me from being fully involved in his performance, but most will think this is cavilling in a very fine assumption of the role. Robert Lloyd was also rather brilliant as the spirit of Carlos V - astonishing also that he is 73.

In all this, and somewhat surprisingly I might add, conductor Pappano emerged as the weak link. The orchestra played accurately, but things just ticked along for the first three acts and Pappano hardly shaped any climaxes or tensions in the music, everything sounding a little drab and undifferentiated. Things didn't really get going until the last third of the evening, but the music is so inspired here that basically just playing the notes is going to be exciting, and he wasn't quite up to the superlative level of the singing. It must be admitted that many of the gorgeous sonorities in these last acts were at least brilliantly achieved. Perhaps he was having an off night. I am going again on Wednesday so we'll soon see.

Beg, steal, deceive your nearest and dearest, in order to get to this show - who knows when we'll see the like again.

La Traviata at the Bayerische Staatsoper (Munchner Operfestspiele)

Anja Harteros was meant to be singing Violetta in this production but cancelled at the last minute and relative unknown Maria Agresta, who had sung the role here earlier this season. No announcement was made at the beginning of the performance, and I only found out through twitter. Strange. Quite annoying too, as she was the main point for seeing this, but Keenleyside made up for this. I met up with the always charming Zerbinetta beforehand who reminded me that Keenleyside had just been singing Wozzeck with Waltraud Meier, and that I had missed this. Damn!

I couldn't believe the average age of the audience - maybe mid forties with plenty much younger, rather than late fifties, early sixties as is the norm in London. The next day I went to see Rosenkavalier (review pending), where the audience was much older. Is this a repertoire thing? Or do older people like Fleming and younger people like Harteros? Probably the repertoire thing... (ALSO! the younger audience were MUCH better behaved)

Anyway, I reviewed it for Bachtrack: http://www.bachtrack.com/review-bayerische-staatsoper-traviata-agresta-vargas-keenlyside

Otello at the ROH

12/07/2012


Verdi's Otello is by common consent one of his very greatest scores, and there is no question that it's the work of a brilliant mind at the height of his powers. Everything is so skilfully wrought, in the excellent libretto every plot detail is essential and logical, the original Shakespeare stripped down to its barest essentials, everything driving forward and lean and dramatic. The music that Verdi provides too is always absolutely what is required and is immaculately composed - the thrilling storm scene, the lusty/comic drinking song, the syrupy love duet, the powerfully dark Credo and on and on throughout brilliant number after number, here seamlessly joined into half hour wholes, Verdi's inspiration virtually never lapsing in its entire 2.5 hour duration.

And yet. And yet. There is something slightly cold about the whole thing. It's so well put to together, so consummately made, so well thought out, that it's almost clinical, and one misses the open, honest humanity of Il Trovatore, Traviata and the other works of his middle period. Verdi's middle period succeeds because he leaves so much out - the spareness and simplicity of the writing, use of old fashioned bel canto conventions, coupled with his unerring belief in the drama, however ludicrous the situation, furnishes true artists with opportunities to provide the full gamut of emotion and meaning that singing and vocal line can offer to drama. It's where he is at his most successful and moving. Otello often feels like an attempt at something of the gravity and colossal mass of Wagnerian music drama, and brilliant though this opera is, it's just not where Verdi's genius lies. Everything is a little too closed, too rounded, with not enough ambiguity in plot, action, drama or characterisation to render the complex psychological states that Wagner provides us with. Though one cannot help but leave awed in a great performance such as this one, and whilst admitting that it contains some unquestionably truly great music, there's the creeping suspicion that something quite important is missing too. I'm sure that many will disagree.

I have to say that I also very much dislike the gross simplification of Iago's character compared to the Shakespeare, and think it's the job of the director to muddy the waters a bit again. I know this is opera, and things need to be clearer and simpler, but the Credo for instance, brilliant though it is in its way, traduces and makes blander this most conflicted, mysterious and interesting of all Shakespeare's villains. But this is a topic for another time perhaps...



This production is very traditional indeed. Elijah Moshinsky also directed the Met's now ancient production, and blocking wise it's very similar. Set designs by Timothy O'Brein are also similar to the Met version, though darker and more interesting.

What's particularly notable is that there's a reason for every action, Moshinsky having clearly thought a lot about the piece over many years, and amazingly he hasn't let it get tired or lose its impact. He doesn't try to change the story or add anything to Verdi's drama, a decision which I'm sure will make many people very happy. For those dissenters who prefer their villains murkier and less clear cut, their heroines less sugar and spice, and their Otellos more complex they'll have to focus on the superb vocalising on offer. I really don't have any real complaints, I'm just being difficult. I guess one could say however on the other hand that none of my notions of the work were challenged.

Aleksandrs Antonenko is quite astonishing vocally as Otello, with a shining, truly dramatic, brilliant italianate sound, never once sounding over taxed by the extraordinary demands of the part, whilst simultaneously remaining thrillingly heroic and manful. Very in tune too, and barely a scoop into top notes. It's absolutely huge as well, and actually gains colour and quality when louder. There are never that many great Otellos in the world at any one time; the last great one was Domingo, and Antonenko is surely destined to be the inheritor of that mantle. Vocally at least, he is even more accomplished, with a better top, bigger sound, and securer technique. Dramatically, he is not quite as compelling, not the natural instinctive actor that Domingo was in this role. Certainly not bad by operatic standards however. With singing like this, I'm willing to forgive just about anything. You owe it to yourself to see him. Do it. It doesn't look like he's done any Wagner yet... but surely Tristan, Siegmund and maybe even Siegfried await? The italian repertoire will no doubt remain central though.

Anja Harteros has been much talked about ahead of this appearence as she cancelled both of her previous appearances at the ROH this season (first Trittico, then Boheme) so people have been nervous that she might not show for this one either. I have to say, that after all this expectation I was slightly disappointed with her Desdemona. Dramatically she just never seems frail or vulnerable enough, nor does she have the big open hearted trust and warmth that Desdemona needs in very a traditional production like this to make her believable and sympathetic. The problem is also in the voice, which while often very beautiful, is not fragile sounding enough for this role. As a result of these things, she rarely tugs at the heart strings. The voice itself is very dark and full sounding, with a superb technique, and is particularly wonderful in quiet, floated high singing where the timbre is quite special; the last half of her Act 4 scena was a case in point, the tone finally lightened too to become silvery, shimmery and entirely fitting for the role. She's also capable of very significant volume in the climaxes of Act 3 (does Puccini lie ahead?), though her middle register can get quite harsh and even ugly when pushed and is not her strength. In general I also miss the vocal particularities, moments of true individuality and personality that mark out a truly exceptional artist. I do think however that this is not a role that really does her justice dramatically, and possibly not fully vocally either. She remains a singer of a very high order indeed, but for my money, she's not quite on the level of say a Kiri, or a Renée or a Leontyne. Again, others may disagree.

Lucio Gallo is vocally and technically not quite a match for his rivals, but is very good as Iago. The loud singing is not beautiful, but is often quite stirring and his Credo was brilliant. He indulges in quite a lot of unsupported head voice/falsetto singing which is the normal way of approaching Iago's intimate, high lying phrases, and makes him quite slimy and disgusting. One day I'd love to hear it sung by someone like Hvorostovsky in a true supported mezza voce, suggesting the hidden power and strength that could be (will be) unleashed, but on the other hand it's hardly necessary, and probably not what Verdi intended. Gallo does a strange thing often when singing loud where he'll pull his jaw into his neck and tilt his whole head forward which gives him a rather awkward posture, but perhaps this was a piece of characterisation? Dramatically he gets the job done, though doesn't create the depth of characterisation that would make the piece as a whole more emotionally engaging. I have my own ideas about how I would stage it all!

Supporting roles are all well taken with many also singing on alternate night in Les Troyens! Brindley Sherratt as Lodovico and Hanna Hipp as Emilia made the most impact, but really this evening is all about the three leads. Pappano is in the pit and drives the performance along admirably - it's a score he knows very well and he makes it deliver its considerable goods. On this first night, some sections still seemed a little scrappy from the orchestra, and there were times when it was lacking a bit in atmosphere, but largely the orchestra and chorus were on good form.

It seems that, just like last season, the Royal Opera House saved their best cast until last - would be interesting to look back at past seasons and see if this is coincidence, or whether they have always attempted this...