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.

ENO 2013-14 Season

A quick round up of the new ENO season. Generally there's lots of nice things - Fidelio, two new Mozart productions, a Handel, a Berlioz, an operetta, a world premier and Peter Grimes with Stuart Skelton. Yes.

Fidelio (opens 25th Sep)
I enjoyed Calixto Bieito Carmen when it came to ENO this season, and am pleased that this Fidelio is coming too - it's meant to be an interesting and thoughtful production that raises questions about the piece. Emma Bell as Leonore, StuartSkelton as Florestan, conducted by Edward Gardner


Die Fledermaus (opens 30th Sep)
Christopher Alden's production with Eun Sun Kim conducting. Tom Randle is Eisenstein and Julia Sporsén as Rosalinde. I was just the other day lamenting the lack of operetta in London, so this is most welcome.


Madame Butterfly (Opens 15th Oct)
Anthony Minghella’s production is one I still haven't scene. I guess I should since it's meant to be so visually arresting, but after my recent Puccini experience with Tosca at the ROH, I'm not sure I can face it.

Die Zauberflote (Opens 7th Nov)
New production by Simon McBurney to replace Hytner's that I was underwhelmed by this season. Tamino is played by Ben Johnson, Devon Guthrie is Pamina, Roland Wood is Papageno and Mary Bevan is Papagena. Gergley Madaras conducts.

Satyagraha (Opens 20th Nov)
Glass' opera directed by Phelim McDermott with Stuart Stratford conducting, and Alan Oke as Ghandi. I'm wary of Glass' music in general, but have never seen one of his operas actually in the theatre, so will likely try to go.

Peter Grimes (Opens 29th Jan)
A revival of David Alden’s Peter Grimes with the superb Stuart Skelton as Grimes, with Elza van den Heever making her debut as Ellen Orford. I predict that this will be the highlight of the ENO season. Can not wait.


Rigoletto (Opens 13th Feb)
Graeme Jenkins conducts a new production by Christopher Alden. Quinn Kelsey takes the title role with Barry Banks as the Duke and Anna Christy taking role of Gilda. Not my favourite Verdi. We'll see how the reviews are.

Rodelinda (Opens 4th Mar)
A new Richard Jones production of this gorgeous Handel score. Rebecca Evans in the title role opposite Iestyn Davies as her husband Bertarido. Conducted by Christian Curnyn. Good news all round.

Powder Her Face (Opens 2nd Apr)

This score earlyish score by Ades is extremly impressive, but I've found the meanness and coldness of the piece alienating in the past. Maybe Joe Hill Gibbins can make it more engaging? Apparently it's "site specific". The mind boggles.


Thebans (Opens 3rd May)
A world premiere by composer Julian Anderson’s with a libretto by Frank McGuinness with conductor Edward Gardner, directed by Pierre Audi. New work is always very welcome, but Audi's Castor and Pollux was one of the worst things I've ever seen. I live eternally in hope though. Singers include Roland Wood, Julia Sporsén, Peter Hoare, Anthony Gregory, Matthew Best and Jonathan McGovern

Cosi fan Tutte (Opens 16 May)
New production. Good. Kate Valentine and Christine Rice as the sisters. GOOD. Katie Mitchell directs conducted by Ryan Wigglesworth.

Benvenuto Cellini (Opens 5th June)
A new Terry Gilliam production of Berlioz’s early opera, conducted by Edward Gardner. Stars Michael Spyres as Cellini, Corinne Winters (the recent ENO Violetta), Nicky Spence and Willard White. Like much of Berlioz, the piece is uneven in inspiration, but contains some wonderful, wonderful music. I didn't much like Gilliam's last Berlioz production at ENO, but it'll probably be interesting at least.

The Pearl Fishers (Opens 16th June)
I haven't yet seen Penny Woolcock’s production of this famously difficult to stage piece, but I love Bizet so will definitely be going. Featuring Sophie Bevan and George van Bergan.

River of Fundament (Opens 29th June)
By Matthew Barney and Jonathan Bepler River of Fundament will be "screened at the Coliseum", "a film/opera project, presented worldwide on behalf of the artist by @MIFestival". Hmm. More details needed.

Here's the ENO's full detailed listing.

Two BBCSO concerts: Ravel, Poulenc, Martinu, Lindberg

Poulenc Les animaux modèles (suite with readings)
Ravel L’enfant et les sortilèges
BBCSO with Royal Academy of Music Students and Stephen Mangan, conducted by Stéphane Denève
26/04/13

Martinu Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra
Lindberg Clarinet Concerto
BBCSO with Apollon Musagete Quartet and Mark Simpson, conducted by Baldur Brönnimann
30/04/13

I wasn't going to review either of these concerts but a train of thought that linked them was swirling around in my mind so I thought I'd exorcise it by setting some ideas down. The first concert I went to primarily for the Ravel opera, a score I sometimes still struggle with, despite its delights. This was not the most orchestrally luxurious reading but the young RAM soloists did well, nicely articulating the French, though none fully technically mastered these tiny roles. It must be said though that having to establish a character (and establish stability in the voice) in such a short time is a real challenge for any singer, and no one did a disservice to Ravel's music. Jean-Baptiste Barriére provided a video accompaniment on a screen behind the singers that was rather literal and not hugely alluring in its primary colours and photoshop effects. It would surely have been more enjoyable for the kids (this was billed as a "family concert") to see the opera semi-staged.

Poulenc's lavish ballet suite Les animaux modèles (1941-3), amusingly and engagingly narrated by actor Stephen Mangan, was a nice rarity to experience, though it is hardly vintage Poulenc. I've talked before about Poulenc's thieving but in this piece the thefts are so blatant and the score so inflated beyond its means that as soon as we notice what's going on, boredom rears its ugly head and it's impossible to ignore the lack of inspiration. The thefts are the usual suspects - Stravinsky, Ravel, Chabrier, Canteloube - and it would be possible to point not just to particular works, but particular bars that Poulenc is sourcing his material from - the end of Ravel's left hand piano concerto for instance is plundered mercilessly. The swooning strings and jungle like density of the orchestration (Villa-Lobos, only pleasant) over the plodding and dutifully sentimental harmony, point to Hollywood as the fundamental "Ur-theft", already an idiom where borrowing and imitation is the order of the day. (Indeed, having just checked, it seems he was concurrently writing for the silver screen at this time). The result, though lovely moment by moment, ends up being curiously bland in the long range and unworthy of Poulenc's best, because although his fundamental technique hasn't changed, it feels by rote and lacks his peculiar piquancy.

Lindberg's ebullient and lush clarinet concerto (2002) is also marked by flagrant borrowing and is an enjoyable romp, especially when played so entirely dazzlingly by Mark Simpson, replete with partially improvised cadenza (the best portion of the performance!). Again, Hollywood schmaltz is a clear point of contact but it's made fuzzy and "serious" by filtration through Lutoslawski. The result is cartoonish in its eclecticism, which can be fun, and though Lindberg moves surprisingly smoothly between the two, and does lots of beautiful things, the self conscious juxtaposition of these disparate elements feels dilettantish in not really being fully committed to either and so the final impression is one of superficiality because the musical materials aren't being taken entirely seriously by their composer. Or to put it another way, their integration and synthesis feels incomplete. Perhaps it was just in this performance that Baldur Brönnimann was underlining these contrasts, and I will recant totally if I hear another performance? Corigliano's famous clarinet concerto of 1977 suffers in an analogous way - though it's enjoyable when taken as pure entertainment, the huge dramatic gestures come out as total melodrama in the post modern context of the piece because they don't derive from musical logic and so it's difficult to take seriously in terms of what it Corigliano claims he is trying to express.

Martinu's Concerto for String Quartet and Orchestra is typical of his earliest phase in being a classic example of motorically spiky 1920's neoclassicism and also depressingly grey in colour - the Dvorakian luminosity and lyrical gift was not to appear for another few years.

DVD Review: From the House of the Dead 2007 Vienna Festival with Boulez and Chéreau

Deutsche Grammophon

Director: Patrice Chéreau

Conductor: Pierre Boulez
Mahler Chamber Orchestra














"Into the minds of criminals and there I find a spark of God. You will not wipe away the crimes from their brow, but equally you will not extinguish the spark of God. Into what depths it leads - how much truth there is in his work! See how the old man slides down from the oven, shuffles to the corpse, makes the sign of the cross over it, and with a rusty voice sobs the words: 'A mother gave birth even to him!' Those are the bright places in the house of the dead." *


In an operatic oeuvre that can already seem thin on conventional operatic niceties, in From the House of the Dead, Janáček goes several steps further along his path towards his vision of artistic truth, stripping the score back to the absolute essentials, paring down his musical language to its strangest, toughest, most intimate, and as it turned out, final iteration. The result can be painfully bare and raw, more so than ever before, and the total lack of sentimentality, sensationalism or pandering to an audience's need for orchestral exaltation and rapturous vocal catharsis sets him apart from virtually every other great opera composer.** And to a greater degree than any "Verismo" composer, Janáček is committed to putting real characters on the operatic stage; in From the House of the Dead by portraying people at their lowest ebb, he creates his ultimate paean to the value and beauty of all human life, in all its difficulty, pain, humour and occasional joy. In this score, moments of softness and wonder are minute and fleeting where in his previous operas he may have offered a sonorous paragraph of beauty (if the drama called for it!) against his oft uncompromising realism. Some listeners will find it all too much to bear, with too little to sustain them, the wild collage like patch work of the score remaining steadfastly tonal but rarely ingratiating, especially in Boulez's modernist treatment of it. But the richness and gawky beauty of this oddest of operas is there for any who are open to it and willing to persevere, and I and many others are convinced that it is a very, very great masterpiece.

In this production Patrice Chéreau and Pierre Boulez are reunited 30 years after their landmark Bayreuth Ring and the result is again extraordinary. Janáček's last opera is based on Dostoyevsky's novel of 1861 which was written after the author's experiences of prison. The dramatic structure is elusive and extremely unconventional, which is to say that there is little in the way of conventional plot - there's a number of prisoner monologues of increasing length, interspersed with crowd scenes and various interactions and conflicts, and a sick eagle's recuperation binds beginning to end. But this material needs a masterful director to make sense of, and Chéreau does really admirably: the clarity and vision with which we are lead through the opera is at times even revelatory, Chéreau choosing to focus things on certain members of the ensemble cast without losing the overall meaning that Janáček is aiming at. For these men, time has stopped, and most survive not just by recounting, but by reliving their fractured pasts - lost loves, jealousy and tenderness are common themes. In this production, Chéreau catches almost every moment with unstinting intensity, with character regie that is far more detailed than one is used to in operatic productions, and there isn't a weak link in the cast. The sets by Richard Peduzzi are superbly evocative whilst being suitably minimal and monotone.

As the disturbed Skuratov, John Mark Ainsley is the only "household name" in the cast, and he turns in a superbly detailed and touching portrait of the madman. But this level of quality is mirrored in the rest of the cast and it seems foolish to pick out individuals in what is so obviously an ensemble effort. Crowd scenes are well handled too, with a clear social hierarchy amongst the prisoners, camaraderie and tensions never seeming stagey or forced. The childlike joy that radiates from the prisoners in the opening scene from the simple act of touching the eagle is wonderfully observed. The general quality of the voices is good, more glamorous voices would seem completely out of place and beside the point. Something to note: Boulez has famously mixed attitudes to opera and its artificialness and it was surely his idea to cast the young boy Aljeja as a tenor rather than a mezzo as in Janáček's score.

I imagine that this was a near perfect theatrical experience in the opera house, but unfortunately the video direction occasionally gets in the way - very often it's a bit too frenetic, with too many cuts, and lots of shots where the camera is on the stage so you feel like you're in the centre of the action. It's clear that immediacy is being aimed for, but it actually makes things unclear sometimes, in an already hard to follow opera.

Although this might seem to be a strange choice of repertoire for Boulez, of all Janáček's scores this is surely the one which Boulez has most to say about, with its stark timbres, violent energy and thrusting rhythms and the Mahler Chamber Orchestra bring an appealingly fresh touch to this unorthodox music, Boulez firmly ensuring that nothing even remotely lapses into sentimentality. The classic Charles Mackerras recording with the Vienna Philharmonic is perhaps unsurprisingly more lyrical, and brings greater contrasts of light and darkness as well as more accomplished singers to the work. More importantly the profound affinity and extremely deep understanding of the idiom as well as peerless orchestral playing keeps Mackerras a firm first recommendation, but Boulez's very different perspective is extremely welcome as a point of comparison and must be recognised as a major addition to the discography of this work.


*These words were found on a piece of paper in the clothes of the deceased Janacek (with thanks to Gavin Plumley for supplying this translation)
**not that he can't or won't compose music like this - Vixen, Katya and Makropulos all contain truly ravishing music, and in fact there's barely a note I don't love in these operas - but he's never consciously "giving us what we want" like Puccini or Strauss or Mozart obviously are, and surely even Wagner does occasionally.

DVD Review: Il Trovatore 2011 Metropolitan Opera

Deutsche Grammophon

Il Conte di Luna: Dmitri Hvorostovsky
Leonora: Sondra Radvanovsky
Azucena: Dolora Zajick
Manrico: Marcelo Alvarez

Director: David McVicar

Conductor: Marco Armiliato
Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and Chorus







Il Trovatore is not overall my favourite Verdi opera but it does contain a hell of a lot of great music and has the potential to be very interesting drama if staged sensitively and the "four greatest singers in the world" that have no doubt been hired for the production also happen to be excellent actors. These famously impossible demands make great performances of the opera few and far between, and this Met broadcast DVD makes clear the difficulty of staging a great Trovatore while providing just about enough pleasure to make it worthwhile.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky is probably the pick of the cast as Il Conte di Luna. The legato is unmatched, the voice very beautiful, and though he can be hectoring in more dramatic phrases (he's really a lyric baritone) he is clearly still a world class voice. Acting wise he does rather well, convincing as a complex bad guy made evil only by love/lust - the Act II aria "Il balen del suo sorriso" is wonderfully delivered. Still, as ever with this artist, the voice is the thing.

Sondra Radvanovsky's voice is very distinctive and she makes a vocally excellent Leonora. Some will find the very fast, "always on" vibrato a little disconcerting and indeed the line between beauty and ugliness in her sound is often dangerously close - in less beguiling moments there is a tendency towards both shrillness and being flat. On the whole though she is on top form here and to my ears her beautiful singing greatly outweighs the less pretty moments - the voice is clearly of Verdian size, the legato is truly excellent, the dynamic range enormous, the coloratura is in place, and technically she manages every hurdle. The trill is lacking, but it seems that one can hardly expect this these days. The top has a diamond brilliance and a total solidity that is very appealing, and she has a very convincing chest register which is mostly well employed. The middle is where the vibrato can sound strange - occasionally there's a sort of metallic hollowness - though the metal is capable also of soft caress and great smoothness. As I say a quite distinctive voice.

Unfortunately she is let down by shallow acting and a lack of grace on stage that conspire to make her uninvolving as a stage personality. David McVicar clearly sees Leonora as a silly girl who is out of her depth but it makes for a boring characterisation. Much worse in this regard however is Marcelo Álvarez as Manrico who gives a painfully caricatured performance, a perfect impression of the "Italian tenor" that we all like to think the opera world has moved on from: stock gestures, mugging, never one movement when eight will do, little interaction with other characters. Vocally he is fine though produces nothing that is that special and it's difficult to see past the abysmal acting.

Azucena has been a calling card for Dolora Zajick for her entire career, but this DVD captures her at a late stage when the voice has become very work hardened and the sound quite unattractive. The vibrato is still fast and so couldn't be called a wobble, but it has become very wide, such that her (admittedly reduced) trills are essentially indistinguishable from the vibrato. Still her formidable technique has kept everything in place and no one could accuse her of not being able to sing it. Dramatically it is difficult to imagine that this role is so closely identified with her - the blankness and lack of life behind the eyes is hard to fathom. Marco Armiliato is fine though entirely unexceptional in the pit.

Players of David McVicar Bingo will be pleased to find all of his hallmarks here - the massive rotating wall, the inexplicably shirtless men, the unrealistically coloured sets, the updating to the 19th century, and men and women behaving badly. It's rather plain and I don't think it's one of his better productions, though maybe it would work better in the theatre without the interference of the unbearable Met Opera video direction. As so often with these broadcasts, the camera is constantly in motion, forever gliding, panning, zooming and/or tracking so that one's attention is constantly drawn to the filming and not the performance. Of course an opera DVD will not be like being in the theatre because of the close ups and cuts, but these directorial decisions don't even come from the realm of cinema - large camera movements tend to be used sparingly in films because the effect is so stylised and "filmic". It might not annoy everyone, but I find it maddening and it speaks to me of the lack of taste and understanding that the Met has for what the art form is really about.

Die Zauberflöte at the ROH

16/04/13

Mozart fanatic though I am, I do find Die Zauberflöte to be quite dramatically flawed, or at least, I have never seen a production that can make the libretto seem like anything less than a silly story with a sententious yet obscure moral with beautiful music added. Compared to the musico-dramatic wonder of the Da Ponte operas, it is unconvincing and uncompelling as drama - the three principal protagonists have barely any agency (they're told to do something, someone else immediately tells them that they can't, they wait while other stuff gets done to them, then they're mysteriously allowed to do the original action when the gods decide they can), the denouement of the story, the two trials, is totally anticlimactic and essentially meaningless, and the plot is so episodic that the pacing can seem curiously clumsy compared to the perfection of Mozart's previous three efforts. The masonic symbolism never seems interesting enough to warrant it being the full focus of a production, and the "philosophical/masonic/temple" music is so alien to Mozart's particular artistic genius - it's the duets of friendship and love, the arias of fear, loss and rage, that is, the points of genuine human emotion rather than the idealised, abstracted moralising, that truly fire his imagination to produce music that is justly loved and held up alongside his very greatest achievements. At least the constant misogyny of the Masons is thwarted by Mozart in making Pamina play the essential role in Tamino's triumph over adversity, thereby rescuing the otherwise jejune message of "brotherhood" by including the other half of the human race as well.

Like all of Mozart's late operas the music occupies a world of its own that is totally distinct from the other operas. Figaro is all subtlety, delicate brilliance and bristling energy, Don Giovanni searing intensity and opulent lushness, Cosi fan Tutte clarity, Mediterranean warmth and symmetry. A Singspiel on acid, Die Zauberflöte is wildly eclectic, providing the widest and least muddied colour palette, painted in primary colours with firm outlines. There's a transparency and calm that surpasses even Cosi - a simplicity of effect and a paring down to essentials, with emotions exquisitely delineated in the music, and usually wholly lacking the ultra complex equivocalness of the other three operas mentioned. Characters say what they mean! The eclecticism is by no means random and is strongly reflective of the very different personalities that are being portrayed: Mozart's unerring talent for aural characterisation taken to the nth degree, and indeed each major role is so precisely and individually drawn that they almost don't inhabit the same landscape as each other. Part of what is touching about the piece is seeing these very different people interacting and overcoming their differences of temperament and outlook.

David McVicar's production makes return and though I still like it, it's starting to look a bit old - the sets are a little crumpled and tatty, and everything creaks, hums and cracks when it moves, to a distracting degree. Still, it's a good traditional production which contains striking images, can be very funny, and is reverent and respectful of the piece. And I still love the ridiculously cute children amongst Monostatos' minions and then at the end in the Papageno/Papagena scene which also serve to show the similarities in these two character's music. For some reason, writing about this production seems superfluous at this stage as it's so famous and has been on DVD/youtube for so long.

Charles Castronovo took a little while to warm up as Tamino, but soon revealed an excellent lyric tenor with good legato and an extremely dark colouring (we're talking Kaufmann-esque), very unusual in a voice of this fach, and quite changed from what I remembered of his Ferrando. For me, this heroic manful timbre doesn't feel right for Tamino, the gentlest and most youthful of all Mozart's tenor roles, but this was nonetheless excellent singing. Unfortunately his German is only OK and acting a little bit generalised. These shortcomings were made especially obvious by Christopher Maltman's beautifully sung and acted Papageno, with his flawless German, expressive vocal shading in both the sung and spoken parts, and total identification with the role. (Though it must be admitted that Tamino is a much less rounded and more idealised character).

Ekaterina Siurina is also glorious as Pamina, with a radiantly beautiful top and floated pianissimos that make an audience melt. Vocally then a marvel, though I wonder if she has a little too much temperament for Pamina - she would be a completely luxury Susanna or a magical Rosenkavalier Sophie, but most casting directors would probably think the voice is too "full" for these parts, despite the fact that the colour and timbre is absolutely ideal (in the Popp mould). Wonderful to hear though.

The Queen of the Night is surely the most popular role in all of opera and though it is by no means the hardest coloratura role in the repertoire, the pressure to perform is immense. Albina Shagimuratova I first saw doing Donna Anna at Glyndebourne and she was magnificent there. The voice is extremely fine - gleaming in the top but with a lyric warmth and excellent agility for a voice this large, but on this first night she was not quite in her stride - her Act I aria "O zittre nicht, mein lieber Sohn" was a bit reticent and the coloratura slightly sluggish, and "Der Hölle Rache" featured dicey intonation in the passages that everyone is waiting for and high notes that were extremely covered. Still, the rest of her singing was very, very good indeed and it's clear that she is in theory perfect for this role and I can well imagine that this was merely first night nerves. Acting wise she is good and makes a decent stab at being scary.

Brindley Sherratt is a very fine Sarastro, not quite the basso profundo required for the role, but extremely cultivated and beautifully sung and his German is very good. The rest of the cast is very serviceable with Sebastian Holocek a commendable Speaker, and the two armoured men of David Butt Philip and Jihoon Kim excellent too. Julia Jones was OK in the pit, though the ROH brass were always too loud, and it wasn't until the final half hour that the orchestra were producing really beautiful things.

So all in all a well sung production, even if there's a slight lack of sparkle from pit or revival direction.

DVD Review: Dido and Aeneas 2008 L'Opera Comique

Francois Roussillon

Dido: Malena Ernman
Aeneas: Christopher Maltman
Belinda: Judith van Wanroij
Sorceress: Hilary Summers
Prologue: Fiona Shaw

Director: Deborah Warner

Conductor: William Christie
Les Arts Florissants






A wonderful performance of Purcell's only opera which brilliantly balances the comic and tragic elements of the drama - the only thing one regrets is that it is over so quickly. In a DVD extra feature William Christie voices his suspicions that the piece is incomplete and notes points in the score where ad lib is written, as well as known about scenes that have gone missing (e.g. for the Sorceress) and also that much of the separately published libretto has apparently not been set to music. We cannot know because Purcell's music comes to us only through 18th century copies, from sympathetic hands who were determined that this music should last.

What does remain is of course magnificent, an ultra condensed, intense drama that is one of the most brilliant instances of the genre composed before Mozart. Christie is brave in fleshing out the ad libitum parts, and crafting a short Prologue with director Deborah Warner. Actress (and now sometime opera director) Fiona Shaw takes on this role, reciting portions of Ted Hughes' Echo and Narcissus, T.S. Eliot's the Wasteland and the famous Yeats poem "Aedh wishes for the cloths of Heaven". In common with most authentic Baroque prologues it's not directly relevant to the opera, but it proves an interesting opening. Fiona Shaw's skill in declamation and obvious knowledge of vocal resonance can only be compared with operatic singing - the utilisation of vocal registers and colours is unerring and virtuosic. Occasionally the voice cracks from too much pushing, and also she's more at home with the storytelling than the poetry, but she is engaging and sets the tone admirably.

Deborah Warner's production takes as its starting point the story that Purcell composed this opera for a girls school in London, and so there is a huge sea of little faces that invade the action at certain moments. The chorus are in modern dress at the sides of the stage, observing and commenting on the action and occasionally interacting, and the central characters are all in 17th century costume and mostly act on a slightly raised central stage like in a Noh play. The whole thing appears to take place in a 17th century courtyard. It's understated but visually very striking and evocative of all the layers that are being combined here. Quite an achievement.

But what is even more impressive is the knitting together of the disparate dramatic styles to create a cohesive whole that entertains and moves at every point. Malena Ernman is a magnificent Dido, vocally beautiful, with a rich chest register and a beautifully pure soprano like top. She is also a superb actress, one of the most natural and subtle that I have ever seen in opera and her interactions with the equally superb Christopher Maltman as Aeneas are worth the price of the DVD alone. Maltman could also simply not be bettered either dramaitcally or vocally - the vibrato is maybe a teensy bit wide at times, but the text is beautifully articulated and his acting again a model of sensitivity and nuance. His character registers far more fully than normal and in some ways is the linchpin of the production. Very special indeed.

On the comedy side, Hilary Summers is a really fantastic sorceress, her acting hilarious and commanding, and her trademark timbre, hollow, androgynous and eerie, quite unlike any other singer's that I have heard, is quite ideal for the role. Deborah Warner makes her as contrasted as possible from Dido, removing any sense of grace or elegance by giving her aggressive and manly mannerisms and a terrifyingly capricious sense of humour. She does not neglect the character's central sadness either, and one is most frustrated that her part isn't bigger. Her assistant witches are maybe the only slight weakness of the production and they can become a little irritating, but not enough to spoil anything.

The contribution of the choir and orchestra of Les Arts Florissants and William Christie is as faultless as ever, and if I wouldn't quite put this alongside their absolute best ever work, it would be difficult to name people who could do it better.

This is probably the best version of the opera on DVD then as Connolly is scuppered by the terribly boring ROH production and the Hickox/Ewing 1995 one is an "opera film", a genre which I have a very hard time enjoying. Highly recommended.