ENO
18/10/2011
This was quite enjoyable. It didn't quite work that well and isn't as good a production as many seem to think, but there are lots of lovely details, and it's worth going to see. Deborah Warner appears to be a fairly talented director, but more in her sense of telling a cohesive, involving story, than in her visual sense (the sets I found clunky), or even, strangely, in the way the characters act moment to moment on stage. Of course her starting point is one of the finest operas ever written, but the sense of story arc for all the characters I thought was brilliantly achieved, the pacing almost always superb. The action was updated, as so often, to the time the piece was composed - the late 19th century, so it still looks "period" enough and romantic enough that people who like "traditional" stagings will still be able to escape into it. (I'm not one of these people, I have no preference for period or updated productions, I just want it to be beautiful and make sense. It's all I ask.)
The first act was set in a cavernous barn, and the opening "number" with its focus on the plight of women at the hands of men (with only female maids bustling around in the background) I already found more moving than usual - it wasn't just the sort of pastoral scene setting approach that usually is the norm. (Is this a feminist opera? Certainly the women are by far the strongest, most intelligent, most measured characters in the piece.) Unfortunately I'd seen the same sort of set much better done recently at the National Theatre in their superlative production of The Cherry Orchard. What really didn't work though was having Tatyana's bedroom also in the barn. Not onl did this make no sense but also the huge size of it took away from the extraordinary intimacy of this scene. She barricades herself in with chairs and throws her mattress across the floor, but when Filippyevna comes back she seems to think nothing of this. Mental. But then we get wonderful directorial touches such as Onegin kissing Tatyana after his chastising monologue in the next scene, before coolly making his exit. Truly amazing how much this simple action reveals so much about his character.
The second and third acts feature a shiny silver floor, and it's not immediately obvious why this is the case... it seems out of place in the shabby home where the party scene takes place. But then for the duel scene, the curtain rises on a misty marsh, by far the most beautiful set of the evening, the silver floor, greyish sky and few desolate trees providing one of the most evocative settings I've ever seen for this scene. But then the silvered side wall was terribly badly made which partially ruined the visuals. Why this lack of attention to visual detail when the rest was so great? Lensky's monologue was beautifully delivered, but unfortunately Onegin, as his emotions become more extreme, reverts to ever more hammy acting to demonstrate this. He gives Lensky a big hug before the duel which is laughable. And by the third act he's writhing on the floor or kneeling with arms outstretched facing the audience directly rather than Tatyana. Stuff like this makes one think of West End musicals, rather than the intimate drama of this Pushkin tale. The set to the third act is badly thought out - several huge columns in rows which means that it's very hard to see the action a lot of the time, until they just stand in front of them, at which point the set becomes a passive backdrop which the characters don't in any way interact with. It also just looks cheap. But then the many mirrors within the plot are again matched by a nice directorial touch - Tatyana kisses Onegin after she says "goodbye for ever", which summarises all the reversals that have taken place, whilst also being an immensely powerful emotional gesture and signifier of the two protagonists' defeat by circumstances and stupidity.
The singing was uniformly excellent - about as good a cast that you could ever expect at the ENO. Everyone sings beautifully, Audun Iversen making a vocally compelling Onegin, though his acting is fairly appalling, and he's hardly the romantic Darcy like heart throb that he should be. He's just mostly quite boring, and as I already said, in the final scene he acts like he's in a west end musical. Much the same could be said of Toby Spence as Lensky, who completely overacts (though his character is more adolescent than Onegin), but the voice sounds absolutely magnificent, gleaming and full, and he's giving it everything he's got. Truly wonderful piano singing too. I was trying to work out what his ideal repertoire would be: it's not pingy enough for the Italian rep, and not big enough for German stuff. Mozart and Janacek? Probably French rep would suit him wonderfully - can imagine him as a great Pelléas. Amanda Echalaz is a great Tatyana and a very good singer. What's odd is that there's a little bit of squall in her middle register, say B up to the passagio, but the top is absolutely radiant, and the fact that we heard the top so rarely reminds us of how low lying this soprano part is. She's a good actress too on the whole, just lacking the last measure of vocal finesse and gestural subtlety that would make her a big "name". All the minor parts were also superbly cast: Diana Montague's Madam Larina and Catherine Wyn-Rogers' Filippyevna made a fantastically moving in the opening scene, and Brindley Sherratt a very well sung Gremin. Claudia Huckle as Olga was really wonderful too - so even and strong and beautiful vocally, according to her website, she's a true contralto. A real discovery.
The orchestral playing was mixed I thought: Every one of the wonderful cello tunes had out of tune notes, there was a general lack of passion to the playing, though several woodwind solos were meltingly delivered. Pacing from conductor Edward Gardner was superb, but as I say he couldn't rouse the players enough to produce something really special. The thing is, it's so well composed that even a mediocrely played performance will still make it's effect on some level.
Anyway, I really enjoyed this evening, and despite my complaints it somehow hangs together well and is a good night at the theatre. Go see it!
Sunday, 20 November 2011
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
La Sonnambula
Royal Opera House
La Sonnambula is hardly a staple of the ROH's repertoire so it was nice to get a chance to see this opera. Or at least it should have been. I absolutely loved Eglise Gutiérrez's voice in Cendrillon last season, so was very much looking seeing her again here. Youtube reveals a truly staggering voice: just listen to the final section of this Caro Nome. On the evidence of that video and the singing I heard in Cendrillon it appears she has one of the most beautiful operatic instruments on the stage today. And up close I'm sure it is. But heard at greater length and more exposed it doesn't translate in the theatre. The basic problem is that the sound is far too covered - lots of sopranos do this in their lower range to darken the tone when they are singing roles that are too heavy for them (*cough cough* Gheorghiu) - but sopranos can also choose to do this higher up, like tenors and baritones have to do to negotiate the passagio. It gives a feeling of control to the performer, and sounds absolutely fantastic to the soprano herself. But across a concert hall, it gives the sound an occluded, domed quality, like a film or a cap that is covering the sound. While it can be a beautiful occasionally for a floated pianissimo high note (and it worked for the fairy godmother in Cendrillon), if it's done all the time, it quickly becomes very boring and that's unfortunately what was happening here with Gutiérrez - there's nothing exciting in the sound, no edge, no sense of risk. Every. Single. Note was placed which is not what you want in this of all repertoire - what's called for is thrilling, full throttle risk taking, not merely accuracy. And unfortunately it wasn't even that accurate - this constant placing meant rhythms were often wayward, and surprisingly there was more than the occasional out of tune passage and high note.
Elena Xanthoudakis had a less beautiful voice perhaps, but at least she could thrill us with it, and as a result was much more satisfying as love rival Lisa. The way she pottered around was funny also. I don't know if Gutiérrez is a poor actress or whether it was the fault of the awful production, but it was hard to care too much about the central story. Marco Arturo Marelli designed and directed the original production (revival direction by Andreas Reisner), and apparently it's set in some sort of mountain lodge/hotel/ward, not at all clear who the patients or staff are. It appears Amina is a waitress in the beginning before she gets changed into her wedding dress in the hall! Yeah I have no idea what they were thinking either. It's a single set all the way through, sort of 20s/30s continental looking with a view of the alps out of the back window. My god is it dull. Michele Pertusi sings beautifully and has some character, doing his best, but it's a bad sign when the Count Rodolfo is the best voice on stage. Celso Albelo can basically sing the part (there was a cringeworthy moment in the unnacompanied portion of the duet), but is one of the dullest tenors I've ever heard. No physical acting to speak of (obviously) and worse in this repertoire, no vocal acting at all - a single tone colour all the way. As soon as he started singing I found myself drifting away from the action, my eyes suddenly caught by the auditorium lighting, or some seat detail. I couldn't help it. Everyone else sung well actually, and Elizabeth Sikora as Teresa, Amina's foster mother, displayed some really beautiful things in her voice, small though the part was. Young Artist Jihoon Kim was good as Alessio.
Seriously though, what a waste of time. This repertoire needs the singers to carry it off, but providing the score with staticism and tedium in the direction and set design really doesn't help matters. A story which is premised on simple idiocy is hard enough to be engaged by as it is.
La Sonnambula is hardly a staple of the ROH's repertoire so it was nice to get a chance to see this opera. Or at least it should have been. I absolutely loved Eglise Gutiérrez's voice in Cendrillon last season, so was very much looking seeing her again here. Youtube reveals a truly staggering voice: just listen to the final section of this Caro Nome. On the evidence of that video and the singing I heard in Cendrillon it appears she has one of the most beautiful operatic instruments on the stage today. And up close I'm sure it is. But heard at greater length and more exposed it doesn't translate in the theatre. The basic problem is that the sound is far too covered - lots of sopranos do this in their lower range to darken the tone when they are singing roles that are too heavy for them (*cough cough* Gheorghiu) - but sopranos can also choose to do this higher up, like tenors and baritones have to do to negotiate the passagio. It gives a feeling of control to the performer, and sounds absolutely fantastic to the soprano herself. But across a concert hall, it gives the sound an occluded, domed quality, like a film or a cap that is covering the sound. While it can be a beautiful occasionally for a floated pianissimo high note (and it worked for the fairy godmother in Cendrillon), if it's done all the time, it quickly becomes very boring and that's unfortunately what was happening here with Gutiérrez - there's nothing exciting in the sound, no edge, no sense of risk. Every. Single. Note was placed which is not what you want in this of all repertoire - what's called for is thrilling, full throttle risk taking, not merely accuracy. And unfortunately it wasn't even that accurate - this constant placing meant rhythms were often wayward, and surprisingly there was more than the occasional out of tune passage and high note.
Elena Xanthoudakis had a less beautiful voice perhaps, but at least she could thrill us with it, and as a result was much more satisfying as love rival Lisa. The way she pottered around was funny also. I don't know if Gutiérrez is a poor actress or whether it was the fault of the awful production, but it was hard to care too much about the central story. Marco Arturo Marelli designed and directed the original production (revival direction by Andreas Reisner), and apparently it's set in some sort of mountain lodge/hotel/ward, not at all clear who the patients or staff are. It appears Amina is a waitress in the beginning before she gets changed into her wedding dress in the hall! Yeah I have no idea what they were thinking either. It's a single set all the way through, sort of 20s/30s continental looking with a view of the alps out of the back window. My god is it dull. Michele Pertusi sings beautifully and has some character, doing his best, but it's a bad sign when the Count Rodolfo is the best voice on stage. Celso Albelo can basically sing the part (there was a cringeworthy moment in the unnacompanied portion of the duet), but is one of the dullest tenors I've ever heard. No physical acting to speak of (obviously) and worse in this repertoire, no vocal acting at all - a single tone colour all the way. As soon as he started singing I found myself drifting away from the action, my eyes suddenly caught by the auditorium lighting, or some seat detail. I couldn't help it. Everyone else sung well actually, and Elizabeth Sikora as Teresa, Amina's foster mother, displayed some really beautiful things in her voice, small though the part was. Young Artist Jihoon Kim was good as Alessio.
Seriously though, what a waste of time. This repertoire needs the singers to carry it off, but providing the score with staticism and tedium in the direction and set design really doesn't help matters. A story which is premised on simple idiocy is hard enough to be engaged by as it is.
Tuesday, 25 October 2011
Jonas Kaufmann
Royal Festival Hall, Southbank Centre
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra
24/10/2010
I've seen Kaufmann once before in the wonderful production of Adriana Lecouvreur that the ROH did last season, though on that occasion, I felt he perhaps wasn't singing at his best. Of course I have listened to his albums, and on record he is certainly my favourite non specialist tenor of the last thirty years. When the mic is up close to catch his artistry, there is really nothing like the glorious beauty of the voice and the astonishing technique.
Whenever one knows a voice very well from recordings, it is always interesting to hear them in real life from across a hall. I was given seats last minute by the wonderfully generous @robmuz which were near the front of the back stalls, which is apparently an acoustic sweet spot in the hall. Though he wasn't loud, I could hear every note that was sung, even his most delicate pianissimos, somewhat of a Kaufmann speciality. The RFH is famously appalling for being able to hear singers however.
The first half was mostly Verismo rep: Cielo e mar from La Gioconda, Giulietta! son io from the Zandonai Romeo e Giulietta, Addio alla madre from Cavalleria Rusticana, with the flower song from Carmen representing the French repertoire. While on record he sings these all magnificently, I found these slightly disappointing here - somehow the radiant fullness of the voice didn't shine through to where I was sitting, and well sung though they were it was difficult to be too moved - you could feel that people were just waiting for the climactic high note, and the applause for these was proportional the how high and how long and how loud that note was. His Italian is perfect though, and his technique is unbelievable - the messa di voce and high pianissimos are second to none. Of course it didn't help that aside from the Bizet this is all schlocky second rate stuff. What also didn't help was that after every aria we'd get an entirely pointless and virtually unrelated orchestral intermezzo. Yes, sure he needs time to rest and get in character for the next aria, but there was such a flagrant sense of padding here, and the constant stopping and starting made it hard for anyone to get too involved (audience or performers).
I actually liked many of the orchestral numbers - mostly quite easily listening, but unfortunately always played so sloooooowly! The overture to I Vespri Siciliani is actually genuinely lovely, as is the Overture to Act 4 from La Wally (Catalani is my favourite of the post Verdi Italian opera composers, by far the most harmonically interesting and lush - reminds me often of Massenet in that regard). Both were here well played I thought, with the Royal Philharmonic strings playing wonderfully all evening. The brass often sounded dodgy however, especially in fast passages.
The second half was much better. After the orchestral Bacchanale from Saint-Saëns Samson (why?) and another piece of Verismo tat (Un dì all'azzuro spazio from Andrea Chenier by Giordano), very well sung of course, we got the prelude to Lohengrin Act 3, and finally the meat of the recital had arrived. Winterstürme from Die Walküre was truly superbly sung, the sound now completely matching the repertoire, and it just poured out of him. Then the celestially beautiful Prelude to Act 1 of Lohengrin and straight into the Gralserzählung from the same opera - such sensitivity to the text and for me the finest singing of the evening. In the spell binding central pianissimo he held us all rapt, not a sound from the entire audience which had been rather noisy and coughey until then - truly extraordinary. Would have been worth it just for that.
As so often, the encores (all four of them), were almost the best bit (and would have been by some margin had it not been for the Wagner). I have no idea why people are so keen to run away after these things! The four encores were L'anima ho stanca, Du bist die Welt für mich, Vesti la giubba and Ombra dì nube. Du bist die Welt für mich is so schmaltzy and just unbelievably gorgeous - the orchestra sounding fantastic, and Kaufmann singing so seductively it was hard not to just smile and laugh. And the final number, Ombra di nube by Refice, sung sotto voce throughout was also extremely special, for me the best italian singing of the evening.
He really is at the height of his powers now. Or can he go further? Apparently Otello, Siegfried and Tristan are coming in 5 years time. Can we get him in London to sing Lohengrin please? Soon?
Royal Philharmonic Orchestra
24/10/2010
I've seen Kaufmann once before in the wonderful production of Adriana Lecouvreur that the ROH did last season, though on that occasion, I felt he perhaps wasn't singing at his best. Of course I have listened to his albums, and on record he is certainly my favourite non specialist tenor of the last thirty years. When the mic is up close to catch his artistry, there is really nothing like the glorious beauty of the voice and the astonishing technique.
Whenever one knows a voice very well from recordings, it is always interesting to hear them in real life from across a hall. I was given seats last minute by the wonderfully generous @robmuz which were near the front of the back stalls, which is apparently an acoustic sweet spot in the hall. Though he wasn't loud, I could hear every note that was sung, even his most delicate pianissimos, somewhat of a Kaufmann speciality. The RFH is famously appalling for being able to hear singers however.
The first half was mostly Verismo rep: Cielo e mar from La Gioconda, Giulietta! son io from the Zandonai Romeo e Giulietta, Addio alla madre from Cavalleria Rusticana, with the flower song from Carmen representing the French repertoire. While on record he sings these all magnificently, I found these slightly disappointing here - somehow the radiant fullness of the voice didn't shine through to where I was sitting, and well sung though they were it was difficult to be too moved - you could feel that people were just waiting for the climactic high note, and the applause for these was proportional the how high and how long and how loud that note was. His Italian is perfect though, and his technique is unbelievable - the messa di voce and high pianissimos are second to none. Of course it didn't help that aside from the Bizet this is all schlocky second rate stuff. What also didn't help was that after every aria we'd get an entirely pointless and virtually unrelated orchestral intermezzo. Yes, sure he needs time to rest and get in character for the next aria, but there was such a flagrant sense of padding here, and the constant stopping and starting made it hard for anyone to get too involved (audience or performers).
I actually liked many of the orchestral numbers - mostly quite easily listening, but unfortunately always played so sloooooowly! The overture to I Vespri Siciliani is actually genuinely lovely, as is the Overture to Act 4 from La Wally (Catalani is my favourite of the post Verdi Italian opera composers, by far the most harmonically interesting and lush - reminds me often of Massenet in that regard). Both were here well played I thought, with the Royal Philharmonic strings playing wonderfully all evening. The brass often sounded dodgy however, especially in fast passages.
The second half was much better. After the orchestral Bacchanale from Saint-Saëns Samson (why?) and another piece of Verismo tat (Un dì all'azzuro spazio from Andrea Chenier by Giordano), very well sung of course, we got the prelude to Lohengrin Act 3, and finally the meat of the recital had arrived. Winterstürme from Die Walküre was truly superbly sung, the sound now completely matching the repertoire, and it just poured out of him. Then the celestially beautiful Prelude to Act 1 of Lohengrin and straight into the Gralserzählung from the same opera - such sensitivity to the text and for me the finest singing of the evening. In the spell binding central pianissimo he held us all rapt, not a sound from the entire audience which had been rather noisy and coughey until then - truly extraordinary. Would have been worth it just for that.
As so often, the encores (all four of them), were almost the best bit (and would have been by some margin had it not been for the Wagner). I have no idea why people are so keen to run away after these things! The four encores were L'anima ho stanca, Du bist die Welt für mich, Vesti la giubba and Ombra dì nube. Du bist die Welt für mich is so schmaltzy and just unbelievably gorgeous - the orchestra sounding fantastic, and Kaufmann singing so seductively it was hard not to just smile and laugh. And the final number, Ombra di nube by Refice, sung sotto voce throughout was also extremely special, for me the best italian singing of the evening.
He really is at the height of his powers now. Or can he go further? Apparently Otello, Siegfried and Tristan are coming in 5 years time. Can we get him in London to sing Lohengrin please? Soon?
Sunday, 23 October 2011
ROH: Der fliegende Holländer
Sitting in the amphitheatre I have to say that this was one of the most starkly beautiful productions I've seen at the Royal Opera House. The opening curtain, a slowly waving blue sheet with light projected through a waterfall hidden behind the sheet is really maybe the most beautiful thing I've ever seen on that stage. The actual stage when it is revealed, the exterior of a ship hull, made concave, is bold and lovely (and very well lit throughout), the simple placement of ropes which cast curving shadows across it make for another understatedly beautiful scene. Then the factory spinning scene again makes a strong visual impact, set designer Michael Levine and lighting designer David Finn working wonderfully together here and throughout.
We've been so lucky for beautiful Wagner stagings this year in the south of England - as well as this, the also stark, but visually arresting ROH Tannhauser and the wonderful Glyndebourne Meistersinger. The ENO Parsifal was less visually alluring, though it had its moments.
Where this production fails a bit is in making clear the strangenesses of Wagner's story - and the metaphysical side of Wagner's intentions are rarely if ever explored - as it stands its just presented as ghost/love story which means it's sometimes a bit hard to swallow. The love triangle seems a bit of a forced way of adding drama to the situation, and none of the characters change throughout the drama. It's not unenjoyable, just is sometimes a bit unbelievable character wise (I'm full aware that this story is fairly unbelievable as it is). I never once felt bored though and the pacing is great, always ramping up to that fantastic climactic scene.
Musically I thought it was very strong. An extremely good cast has been assembled here. Egils Silins makes a magnificent sounding Dutchman, the huge voice rounded and clear, and not a hint of wobble. Anja Kampe made a wonderful Senta, vocally at least. Again it's a large voice, but also extremely beautiful, glamorous and lovely, with the floating timbre of a lyric, and a powerful chest register. Her ballad aria was superbly sung - she has the technique to be equally beguiling in the loudest and most intimate passages, unlike so many Wagner singers. Only in the highest top notes did she have a little difficulty, and occasionally sounded a little strained and slightly flat. But no matter, it's a superb voice. Unfortunately she did not move well on stage, looking always rather dowdy and awkward in her actions. Her jealous lover Erik was played by Endrik Wottrich who I found disappointing as Florestan in last season's Fidelio, but was here in brilliant voice, the burnished sound not showing a hint of strain or stridency, sounding always manful and heroic. Really ideal then: he'd surely be a great Siegfried - he seemed underutilised here! John Tessier's lyric tenor made for a beautiful Steersman's song and Stephen Milling made an equally good Daland.
I have been a Jeffrey Tate fan ever since hearing his magnificent Te Kanawa Arabella, and the clarity, detail and warmth of his approach shone through here, even if it was slow to get started. The orchestra didn't once cover the singers (without sacrificing impact) which is so rare that it comes as a real surprise when it does happen - Tate is clearly extremely concerned with his singers and presenting them in the best light. Such a shame that he has not conducted here for so long, and lets hope he is engaged again by the ROH soon. The orchestra were on generally good form, warming up with Tate towards the end. The chorus were sounding on absolute top form too, so powerful and vital. The spooky bit where the ghost sailors appear had them errupting from under ground was an amazing moment vocally and visually.
Very enjoyable, and I hope to go again.
We've been so lucky for beautiful Wagner stagings this year in the south of England - as well as this, the also stark, but visually arresting ROH Tannhauser and the wonderful Glyndebourne Meistersinger. The ENO Parsifal was less visually alluring, though it had its moments.
Where this production fails a bit is in making clear the strangenesses of Wagner's story - and the metaphysical side of Wagner's intentions are rarely if ever explored - as it stands its just presented as ghost/love story which means it's sometimes a bit hard to swallow. The love triangle seems a bit of a forced way of adding drama to the situation, and none of the characters change throughout the drama. It's not unenjoyable, just is sometimes a bit unbelievable character wise (I'm full aware that this story is fairly unbelievable as it is). I never once felt bored though and the pacing is great, always ramping up to that fantastic climactic scene.
Musically I thought it was very strong. An extremely good cast has been assembled here. Egils Silins makes a magnificent sounding Dutchman, the huge voice rounded and clear, and not a hint of wobble. Anja Kampe made a wonderful Senta, vocally at least. Again it's a large voice, but also extremely beautiful, glamorous and lovely, with the floating timbre of a lyric, and a powerful chest register. Her ballad aria was superbly sung - she has the technique to be equally beguiling in the loudest and most intimate passages, unlike so many Wagner singers. Only in the highest top notes did she have a little difficulty, and occasionally sounded a little strained and slightly flat. But no matter, it's a superb voice. Unfortunately she did not move well on stage, looking always rather dowdy and awkward in her actions. Her jealous lover Erik was played by Endrik Wottrich who I found disappointing as Florestan in last season's Fidelio, but was here in brilliant voice, the burnished sound not showing a hint of strain or stridency, sounding always manful and heroic. Really ideal then: he'd surely be a great Siegfried - he seemed underutilised here! John Tessier's lyric tenor made for a beautiful Steersman's song and Stephen Milling made an equally good Daland.
I have been a Jeffrey Tate fan ever since hearing his magnificent Te Kanawa Arabella, and the clarity, detail and warmth of his approach shone through here, even if it was slow to get started. The orchestra didn't once cover the singers (without sacrificing impact) which is so rare that it comes as a real surprise when it does happen - Tate is clearly extremely concerned with his singers and presenting them in the best light. Such a shame that he has not conducted here for so long, and lets hope he is engaged again by the ROH soon. The orchestra were on generally good form, warming up with Tate towards the end. The chorus were sounding on absolute top form too, so powerful and vital. The spooky bit where the ghost sailors appear had them errupting from under ground was an amazing moment vocally and visually.
Very enjoyable, and I hope to go again.
Saturday, 22 October 2011
Glyndebourne On Tour: Don Pasquale
20/10/2011
Glyndebourne
Donizetti comedies are not exactly my favourite corner of the operatic repertoire, and Don Pasquale is not a great bel canto score, but I was hopeful for this after the surprising brilliance of Glyndebourne's Elixir in the Festival this year. This is a new production directed by Mariame Clément, designed by Julia Hansen with lighting by Bernd Purkrabek, and was a complete treat from start to finish. We are simply and ingeniously introduced to all of the characters by Dr Malatesta, the central machinator of the piece, who slinks through the various rooms of the revolving set as the others all sleep. The sets themselves are simple, but beautifully thought out, each character having their own room which is reflected in their costumes. Dozens of delightful details like this make it a joy to watch and lose yourself in. The four colourful and strongly differentiated costumes of the main four characters are contrasted with the pristine white 18th century french elegance of the chorus (who must love it!), who watch the action from outside the revolving stage as a tittering, fluttering, upper class theatre audience - not just an amusing touch, but an often breathtaking spectacle. The last scene, where the rendezvous has been set up, reveals an outrageously gorgeous clouded azure sky with magenta and tangerine sunset, the chorus sitting on the lawn, eating their (white) picnics: a clear send up of Glyndebourne's indulgently beautiful tradition. The lighting is imaginative and very effective throughout and is in perfect accord with the sets, costumes and direction.
Jonathan Veira played Don Pasquale with appropriate humour, pomposity and warmth, with his extraordinary rubber like face and superb comic timing. Unfortunately the voice is slightly lacking in volume and beauty, though these are probably not the most important characteristics in this role. Enea Scala played the role of Ernesto, in this production hopelessly adolescent, dandyish, romantic and sulky. As well as being a great "straight man" for the other characters to mock, he delivered some beautiful legato singing and truly thrilling top notes without a hint of strain. In this production the doctor (played by Andrei Bondarenko) and Norina (played by Ainhoa Garmendia) are having an affair, and run off into the sunset at the end leaving a heart broken Ernesto - Bondarenko's well sung, serious and slightly sinister presence made this a very nice little twist. I wasn't super keen on Garmendia's Norina it has to be said - the coloratura was all rather laboured, with a large vibrato and not terribly attractive tone. Not really her fach, and I yearned for Danielle de Niese's acting ability, vocal talents and sexual confidence after her fantastic performance this summer as Adina. Is she too famous for Glyndebourne on tour? Certainly not bad though.
The orchestra did well though had very little of their own to do of course, almost completely relegated to dutiful accompaniment as they are, and I could never complain about Enrique Mazzola's conducting. The singers were always audible and well supported which was obviously good.
All in all though a great evening out at the opera and one that I would strongly recommend even if the music doesn't appeal. Delightful.
Glyndebourne
Donizetti comedies are not exactly my favourite corner of the operatic repertoire, and Don Pasquale is not a great bel canto score, but I was hopeful for this after the surprising brilliance of Glyndebourne's Elixir in the Festival this year. This is a new production directed by Mariame Clément, designed by Julia Hansen with lighting by Bernd Purkrabek, and was a complete treat from start to finish. We are simply and ingeniously introduced to all of the characters by Dr Malatesta, the central machinator of the piece, who slinks through the various rooms of the revolving set as the others all sleep. The sets themselves are simple, but beautifully thought out, each character having their own room which is reflected in their costumes. Dozens of delightful details like this make it a joy to watch and lose yourself in. The four colourful and strongly differentiated costumes of the main four characters are contrasted with the pristine white 18th century french elegance of the chorus (who must love it!), who watch the action from outside the revolving stage as a tittering, fluttering, upper class theatre audience - not just an amusing touch, but an often breathtaking spectacle. The last scene, where the rendezvous has been set up, reveals an outrageously gorgeous clouded azure sky with magenta and tangerine sunset, the chorus sitting on the lawn, eating their (white) picnics: a clear send up of Glyndebourne's indulgently beautiful tradition. The lighting is imaginative and very effective throughout and is in perfect accord with the sets, costumes and direction.
Jonathan Veira played Don Pasquale with appropriate humour, pomposity and warmth, with his extraordinary rubber like face and superb comic timing. Unfortunately the voice is slightly lacking in volume and beauty, though these are probably not the most important characteristics in this role. Enea Scala played the role of Ernesto, in this production hopelessly adolescent, dandyish, romantic and sulky. As well as being a great "straight man" for the other characters to mock, he delivered some beautiful legato singing and truly thrilling top notes without a hint of strain. In this production the doctor (played by Andrei Bondarenko) and Norina (played by Ainhoa Garmendia) are having an affair, and run off into the sunset at the end leaving a heart broken Ernesto - Bondarenko's well sung, serious and slightly sinister presence made this a very nice little twist. I wasn't super keen on Garmendia's Norina it has to be said - the coloratura was all rather laboured, with a large vibrato and not terribly attractive tone. Not really her fach, and I yearned for Danielle de Niese's acting ability, vocal talents and sexual confidence after her fantastic performance this summer as Adina. Is she too famous for Glyndebourne on tour? Certainly not bad though.
The orchestra did well though had very little of their own to do of course, almost completely relegated to dutiful accompaniment as they are, and I could never complain about Enrique Mazzola's conducting. The singers were always audible and well supported which was obviously good.
All in all though a great evening out at the opera and one that I would strongly recommend even if the music doesn't appeal. Delightful.
Sunday, 14 August 2011
Glyndebourne V and VI: Britten and Dvorak
13/08/2011
The Turn of the Screw
14/08/2011
Rusalka
There is a not uncommon view that The Turn of the Screw is Britten's greatest opera, and though I don't agree, I can see why - the masterly construction, beauty of the score, brilliant use of the chamber ensemble and in a good performance the emotional impact are all undeniably compelling. For me though, the story doesn't quite come off in its operatic setting, the ambiguities of the plot necessarily clarified and weakened by the operatic medium - above all, the ghosts are visible and they sing - there can be no doubt that they are real (at least in this staging, and in Britten's mind also), which to me makes the story far less interesting. There are certainly ambiguities and uncertainties that remain in the story as presented by Britten/Piper, and their goal was to stay as close to the original as possible, but I'm not sure how successful they were. This 2006 staging by Jonathan Kent is extremely spartan, the major feature being a very large sheet of windows that rotates and tilts, creating variously the barrier between indside and outside the house, a green house, and the surface of a lake. Most of the stage is white, with scene changes dealt with using revolving stage sections. I wasn't that great a fan of it all - too little atmosphere was evoked, and it never really seemed disturbing - the ghosts are too obviously present, too closely in contact with the kids, the set too often on the move to create the crushing stillness and sadness of the book. And what did it being updated to the 1950s (the third updating to this decade this season!) really add? Not really much more to say about it.
The casting was strong. Miah Persson was the governess, standing in for the pregnant Kate Royal, and made a convincing character on stage. The voice is certainly pretty, but lacks variation in colour, and the top is a bit tweety and shrill at the moment for the full lyric roles that she undoubtedly will come to inhabit. Susan Bickley's voice has a very particular steely edge, but she was excellent as Mrs Grose, with some surprisingly beautiful pianissimo top notes. Toby Spence and Giselle Allen as the ghosts were both strong vocally, delivering some lovely singing, but as I have said, I objected to how concrete and commonplace they seemed - no spectral mysteriousness in sight. The two kids were also good - Thomas Parfitt as Miles an excellent treble, stunningly lovely in his aria, and Joanna Songi despite the fact that she has now graduated from Cambridge, was convincingly girly and cute (and small!) as Flora with her girlish, choral voice.
As I've said before about Rusalka, it's one of my favourite operatic scores. This Glyndebourne production, directed by Milly Still and designed by Rae Smith, doesn't try to do anything too radical with the thing, and like the Grange Park Opera production I attended, feels subtly updated and modern, though not at the expense of the fairy tale aspects of the opera. I can't say I was that enamoured with this production either - it was hardly a feast for the eye (and I think it was trying to be), the psychological action seemed slightly neglected or at least unimaginatively presented, and the sexyness of the score and libretto is hammed up to the max whenever possible. And I'm nitpicking here, but the scientist in me wants to reject the furry mermaid tails (mammals are pretty much the opposite of fish with regards to surface texture). I don't have that much to say about this production really. It was fine, but strangely, I found myself hankering after the detail and sensitivity of the Grange Park Production, even if I didn't much enjoy what that one looked like either.
The singing at least was decent. Dina Kuznetsova made a fine Rusalka, generally singing nicely and good in the more dramatic, loud moments of the score, but without it ever seeming truly remarkable. One annoyance was that there was very little legato as the line was constantly broken up her consonants - the result was often lots of little yelps, rather than a sustained phrase - the biggest casualty of this approach was the Song to the Moon, which felt disappointing. Acting wise I didn't feel like there was much of a journey for her, which is to say I wasn't too engaged with Rusalka's plight this time. Pavel Cernoch as the Prince was in excellent voice, and did this extremely demanding part justice without ever sounding strained or overtaxed. Occasionally a bit more volume might have been nice, but his is a very lovely lyric-spinto sound and he did well. Again though, the character was hard to relate to and seemed a bit two dimensional. Larissa Diadkova was OK as Jezibaba, and can definitely sing the part, though often got behind the orchestra. And her characterisation went about as far as the costume, which is to say a Babushka outfit. Sigh. Not a patch on Emma Carrington in this role. I did very much like Tatiana Pavlovskaya as the foreign princess - she clearly relished this minor but major role, swanning around in expensive dresses with a smirk on her face, and of course that brilliant final scene where she damns the prince. Mischa Schelomianski as Vodnik, Rusalka's father, impressed with his powerful delivery - it's another fantastic supporting role. The other minor roles were all well sung.
I have to say that I was disappointed with the conducting of Andrew Davis. The LPO players were OK, but it all felt a bit subdued and featureless - not much commitment from either party. At least the singers were never swamped. But I wanted either more schmaltz or more incisiveness, something to put a stamp of personality on the performance.
None of it was bad by any means, and I don't rescind my earlier claim that Glyndebourne is the UK's best opera house, but I didn't feel the same elation during either of these performances as I had when seeing Meistersinger, Don Giovanni or L'Elisir D'amore earlier in the festival.
The Turn of the Screw
14/08/2011
Rusalka
There is a not uncommon view that The Turn of the Screw is Britten's greatest opera, and though I don't agree, I can see why - the masterly construction, beauty of the score, brilliant use of the chamber ensemble and in a good performance the emotional impact are all undeniably compelling. For me though, the story doesn't quite come off in its operatic setting, the ambiguities of the plot necessarily clarified and weakened by the operatic medium - above all, the ghosts are visible and they sing - there can be no doubt that they are real (at least in this staging, and in Britten's mind also), which to me makes the story far less interesting. There are certainly ambiguities and uncertainties that remain in the story as presented by Britten/Piper, and their goal was to stay as close to the original as possible, but I'm not sure how successful they were. This 2006 staging by Jonathan Kent is extremely spartan, the major feature being a very large sheet of windows that rotates and tilts, creating variously the barrier between indside and outside the house, a green house, and the surface of a lake. Most of the stage is white, with scene changes dealt with using revolving stage sections. I wasn't that great a fan of it all - too little atmosphere was evoked, and it never really seemed disturbing - the ghosts are too obviously present, too closely in contact with the kids, the set too often on the move to create the crushing stillness and sadness of the book. And what did it being updated to the 1950s (the third updating to this decade this season!) really add? Not really much more to say about it.
The casting was strong. Miah Persson was the governess, standing in for the pregnant Kate Royal, and made a convincing character on stage. The voice is certainly pretty, but lacks variation in colour, and the top is a bit tweety and shrill at the moment for the full lyric roles that she undoubtedly will come to inhabit. Susan Bickley's voice has a very particular steely edge, but she was excellent as Mrs Grose, with some surprisingly beautiful pianissimo top notes. Toby Spence and Giselle Allen as the ghosts were both strong vocally, delivering some lovely singing, but as I have said, I objected to how concrete and commonplace they seemed - no spectral mysteriousness in sight. The two kids were also good - Thomas Parfitt as Miles an excellent treble, stunningly lovely in his aria, and Joanna Songi despite the fact that she has now graduated from Cambridge, was convincingly girly and cute (and small!) as Flora with her girlish, choral voice.
As I've said before about Rusalka, it's one of my favourite operatic scores. This Glyndebourne production, directed by Milly Still and designed by Rae Smith, doesn't try to do anything too radical with the thing, and like the Grange Park Opera production I attended, feels subtly updated and modern, though not at the expense of the fairy tale aspects of the opera. I can't say I was that enamoured with this production either - it was hardly a feast for the eye (and I think it was trying to be), the psychological action seemed slightly neglected or at least unimaginatively presented, and the sexyness of the score and libretto is hammed up to the max whenever possible. And I'm nitpicking here, but the scientist in me wants to reject the furry mermaid tails (mammals are pretty much the opposite of fish with regards to surface texture). I don't have that much to say about this production really. It was fine, but strangely, I found myself hankering after the detail and sensitivity of the Grange Park Production, even if I didn't much enjoy what that one looked like either.
The singing at least was decent. Dina Kuznetsova made a fine Rusalka, generally singing nicely and good in the more dramatic, loud moments of the score, but without it ever seeming truly remarkable. One annoyance was that there was very little legato as the line was constantly broken up her consonants - the result was often lots of little yelps, rather than a sustained phrase - the biggest casualty of this approach was the Song to the Moon, which felt disappointing. Acting wise I didn't feel like there was much of a journey for her, which is to say I wasn't too engaged with Rusalka's plight this time. Pavel Cernoch as the Prince was in excellent voice, and did this extremely demanding part justice without ever sounding strained or overtaxed. Occasionally a bit more volume might have been nice, but his is a very lovely lyric-spinto sound and he did well. Again though, the character was hard to relate to and seemed a bit two dimensional. Larissa Diadkova was OK as Jezibaba, and can definitely sing the part, though often got behind the orchestra. And her characterisation went about as far as the costume, which is to say a Babushka outfit. Sigh. Not a patch on Emma Carrington in this role. I did very much like Tatiana Pavlovskaya as the foreign princess - she clearly relished this minor but major role, swanning around in expensive dresses with a smirk on her face, and of course that brilliant final scene where she damns the prince. Mischa Schelomianski as Vodnik, Rusalka's father, impressed with his powerful delivery - it's another fantastic supporting role. The other minor roles were all well sung.
I have to say that I was disappointed with the conducting of Andrew Davis. The LPO players were OK, but it all felt a bit subdued and featureless - not much commitment from either party. At least the singers were never swamped. But I wanted either more schmaltz or more incisiveness, something to put a stamp of personality on the performance.
None of it was bad by any means, and I don't rescind my earlier claim that Glyndebourne is the UK's best opera house, but I didn't feel the same elation during either of these performances as I had when seeing Meistersinger, Don Giovanni or L'Elisir D'amore earlier in the festival.
Monday, 4 July 2011
Cendrillon at the ROH
I've confessed my love of Massenet before, and always relish the opportunity to get to know another of his forgotten works from the backwaters of the catalogue. Cendrillon is hardly a great opera, or even a great score, but if like me you have a sweet tooth, and admire the suavity and loveliness of Massenet's idiom, this is an evening of delights.
The story is Cinderella, pretty much exactly as we know it. It's not a subtle reimagining either - just takes the tale at face value and presents the story as it is. This production, directed by Laurent Pelly with sets by Barbara De Limburg, doesn't try to clutter it and make it something it's not: it's just elegant and lovely. Every wall is covered in the text of the fairy tale, and the set keeps folding out and backwards - all very simple and beautifully done. The gates to the palace, and horse and carriage, continue this text theme and the text is again used to create a starry sky. Other than this the focus is on the characters, with superbly imaginative and lavish costumes designed by Pelly also.
Set pieces, like the ballroom scene with the princesses all presenting themselves to the prince work really well, but the more serious central love story falls a bit flatter, with a particularly poorly directed scene in the third act where Cinderella and the Prince can't find each other even although they're just metres away from each other (it later transpires that the scene was a dream. I'm still not going to let them off). There's lots of lovely little touches though, like the magical entrance of the Fairy Godmother with her imps being identical copies of Cinderella, the actions of the horses of Cinderella's coach, the individuality of all the princesses, the improbably large hips bestowed on Cinderella's step mother. It charms and is imaginative, and does far more than could be expected from the rather meagre libretto.
The cast is probably the best the ROH has had all year.
Joyce DiDonato is Cinderella, and the music fits her like a glove. She's a superstar of course, and she's a hugely likable stage presence. The voice doesn't quite have the last degree of technical polish that would make her a true great though - high notes reveal a slight flutter when singing quietly, the messa di voce that the role of Cinderalla requires not quite coming off exactly. Additionally, her coloratura is heavily aspirated. I really liked her though, and she's a singer with class.
This piece is a bit of a mezzo fest, with Prince charming also being a mezzo part - here Alice Coote takes on the role which she does very well (as we've come to expect from all her travesti roles). Unfortunately its nowhere near as grateful vocally as the part of Cendrillon, but Coote still sings it nicely. This opera is rather uneven musically which is probably the reason for its neglect: the two big duets between the romantic leads are nice, rather than passionate and beautiful, and pass by without quite managing to be the big set pieces they're clearly intended to be. Much better are Cinderella's monologues, where we're in familiar Manon and Thais territory, and Massenet even goes so far as to make a reference back to Manon: Cinderella bids farewell to her grandfather's chair when she plans to run away. Also fine are the tender interchanges between Cinderella and Pandolfe, her father, here unfortunately sung by a truly awful Jean-Philippe Lafont. It's a huge bass voice but completely ruined by an enormous wobble that he manages to wrestle under control only very very occasionally.
Great too are the comedy elements, and this production is genuinely very funny. Best of all is Ewa Podles as Cinderella's step mother. I have a thing for women's voices that have extremely powerful chest registers, something I hugely admire in Callas and Horne, Fleming, and recently Elizabeth DeShong too. Podles is that extremely rare vocalist that can manage the true tief Alt rep, but is just as powerful and pure when she strays higher, the sound rich and deep and beautifully even. She's technically brilliant too and this role is a gift for her: she can do its extraordinary vocal demands justice and the comedy acting is just perfect.
But the greatest discovery for me was Eglise Gutiérrez as the fairy godmother. This is a really virtuoso coloratura role, with three extended scenes of vocal fireworks, which I think very few current singers could do full justice to. I'd never heard Gutiérrez before, but I was just bowled over here - superb technique, wonderful control, with the most delicately beautiful pianissimos floating effortlessly into the auditorium. The whole voice gushes with harmonics and overtones, the silken vibrato vibrant and ravishing, and I have to say I think it's the most beautiful voice that the ROH has had this year. And finally someone who can trill! She's doing Sonnambula at the ROH next season and I will be clamouring to get tickets. The last portion of this youtube video (4.27 onwards) gives you an idea.
The story is Cinderella, pretty much exactly as we know it. It's not a subtle reimagining either - just takes the tale at face value and presents the story as it is. This production, directed by Laurent Pelly with sets by Barbara De Limburg, doesn't try to clutter it and make it something it's not: it's just elegant and lovely. Every wall is covered in the text of the fairy tale, and the set keeps folding out and backwards - all very simple and beautifully done. The gates to the palace, and horse and carriage, continue this text theme and the text is again used to create a starry sky. Other than this the focus is on the characters, with superbly imaginative and lavish costumes designed by Pelly also.
Set pieces, like the ballroom scene with the princesses all presenting themselves to the prince work really well, but the more serious central love story falls a bit flatter, with a particularly poorly directed scene in the third act where Cinderella and the Prince can't find each other even although they're just metres away from each other (it later transpires that the scene was a dream. I'm still not going to let them off). There's lots of lovely little touches though, like the magical entrance of the Fairy Godmother with her imps being identical copies of Cinderella, the actions of the horses of Cinderella's coach, the individuality of all the princesses, the improbably large hips bestowed on Cinderella's step mother. It charms and is imaginative, and does far more than could be expected from the rather meagre libretto.
The cast is probably the best the ROH has had all year.
Joyce DiDonato is Cinderella, and the music fits her like a glove. She's a superstar of course, and she's a hugely likable stage presence. The voice doesn't quite have the last degree of technical polish that would make her a true great though - high notes reveal a slight flutter when singing quietly, the messa di voce that the role of Cinderalla requires not quite coming off exactly. Additionally, her coloratura is heavily aspirated. I really liked her though, and she's a singer with class.
This piece is a bit of a mezzo fest, with Prince charming also being a mezzo part - here Alice Coote takes on the role which she does very well (as we've come to expect from all her travesti roles). Unfortunately its nowhere near as grateful vocally as the part of Cendrillon, but Coote still sings it nicely. This opera is rather uneven musically which is probably the reason for its neglect: the two big duets between the romantic leads are nice, rather than passionate and beautiful, and pass by without quite managing to be the big set pieces they're clearly intended to be. Much better are Cinderella's monologues, where we're in familiar Manon and Thais territory, and Massenet even goes so far as to make a reference back to Manon: Cinderella bids farewell to her grandfather's chair when she plans to run away. Also fine are the tender interchanges between Cinderella and Pandolfe, her father, here unfortunately sung by a truly awful Jean-Philippe Lafont. It's a huge bass voice but completely ruined by an enormous wobble that he manages to wrestle under control only very very occasionally.
Great too are the comedy elements, and this production is genuinely very funny. Best of all is Ewa Podles as Cinderella's step mother. I have a thing for women's voices that have extremely powerful chest registers, something I hugely admire in Callas and Horne, Fleming, and recently Elizabeth DeShong too. Podles is that extremely rare vocalist that can manage the true tief Alt rep, but is just as powerful and pure when she strays higher, the sound rich and deep and beautifully even. She's technically brilliant too and this role is a gift for her: she can do its extraordinary vocal demands justice and the comedy acting is just perfect.
But the greatest discovery for me was Eglise Gutiérrez as the fairy godmother. This is a really virtuoso coloratura role, with three extended scenes of vocal fireworks, which I think very few current singers could do full justice to. I'd never heard Gutiérrez before, but I was just bowled over here - superb technique, wonderful control, with the most delicately beautiful pianissimos floating effortlessly into the auditorium. The whole voice gushes with harmonics and overtones, the silken vibrato vibrant and ravishing, and I have to say I think it's the most beautiful voice that the ROH has had this year. And finally someone who can trill! She's doing Sonnambula at the ROH next season and I will be clamouring to get tickets. The last portion of this youtube video (4.27 onwards) gives you an idea.
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