Sunday, June 26, 2016
It’s time to add more legends to my Mixcloud site: Mario Del Monaco, Raina Kabaivanska, and Tito Gobbi star in this 1962 performance of Otello from Covent Garden led by Georg Solti. Del Monaco, never one for subtlety, enters at full speed with perhaps the most secure “Esultate!” I’ve ever heard. His career spanned the globe, singing often with the greatest divas of his time such as Zinka Milanov, Renata Tebaldi (both were signed to Decca Records, for which they made several recordings), and Maria Callas (he was her Pollione when they opened La Scala in 1955 and at her Met debut). Between 1950 and 1959 he chalked up nearly 150 Met performances in the dramatic tenor repertoire. It is said he sang Otello 457 times in his career, which lasted till 1975. Kabaivanska, unfortunately, made few commercial recordings (there were a few recital discs released on RCA LPs which apparently never made it to the digital domain), but was a regular visitor to the Met from 1964 (debuting as Nedda) till a final Tatiana in Eugene Onegin in 1978. A personal highlight for me was her Lisa in the company’s first Russian-language performances of Pique Dame opposite Nicolai Gedda in 1972. A stunning woman known for her committed acting, she also possesses one of those unique voices, recognizable in a single phrase, of which both aspects are preserved on a DVD of Tosca with Plácido Domingo and Sherrill Milnes from 1976. She specialized in Puccini and verismo works such as Francesca da Rimini. In 2001, at the age of 66, her career took a twist with a new role: Liza Elliott in Kurt Weill’s Lady in the Dark at the Teatro Massimo in Palermo (sung in something resembling English: “Uxley vants to make his buk on me”). Gobbi is likely the most significant Scarpia of the 20th century and claimed to have sung the role nearly 1,000 times, recording it twice with Callas, a close friend and frequent collaborator. It served as his Met debut in 1956 with Milanov and Giuseppe Di Stefano, as well as his farewell to the company as a singer in 1975 with Dorothy Kirsten and John Alexander; he returned in 1978 to restage Otto Schenk’s 1968 production of Tosca. His career actually began in the early 1930s in Italy’s provincial houses. Over the next three decades he would graduate to the world’s main stages in roles as diverse as Don Giovanni, Simon BOccanegra, and Wozzeck (sung in Italian). In addition to Scarpia, his later career focused on Jago and Falstaff. Gobbi appeared in about 25 Italian films in both singing and dramatic roles, and began his third career as a stage director in the 1960s. At the time of this performance, Solti, as music director of the Covent Garden Opera Company, was instrumental in having the company renamed the Royal Opera and gradually did away with the practice of all performances being sung in English. A little-known fact about the maestro is his presence in the Guinness Book of World Records: he holds the record for the most Grammy Awards won (31 out of 74 nominations, plus a special lifetime achievement award). Giuseppe Verdi: Otello Royal Opera, Covent Garden Georg Solti, conductor 30 June 1962 Otello – Mario Del Monaco Desdemona – Raina Kabaivanska Jago – Tito Gobbi Emilia – Josephine Veasey Cassio – John Lanigan Roderigo – John Dobson Lodovico – David Ward Montano – Forbes Robinson Un aroldo – Glynne Thomas If you’re not in the mood for Shakespearean tragedy, you may enjoy a charming, fun performance of L’elisir d’amore from a broadcast last week from Wiener Staatsoper starring Stephen Costello, Valentina Nafortina, and Erwin Schrott as a scenery-chewing Dulcamara. I know Costello has had his detractors at Parterre, but within an hour after I posted the performance, someone left the comment, “It’s so good to hear Stephen Costello back in form as he was at the last Tucker Gala.” As always, click on: https://www.mixcloud.com/Jungfer_Marianne_Leizmetzerin/
Since September “Trove Thursday” has been offering live performances every week for listening and downloading here on Parterre Box, but I realized I hadn’t yet posted anything featuring one of the “Queens of the Bootlegs,” so I now correcting that with Puccini’s La Fanciulla del West starring the great Magda Olivero as Minnie. After I’d been collecting reel-to-reel tapes of in-house and broadcast recordings for a while, one of my “pirate” contacts asked to see the list of things I’d acquired so far. He wrote back shocked: “What!? No Maria Callas? No Leyla Gencer? No Magda Olivero?” I had to admit that by then I’d heard more than enough Callas and Gencer’s bel canto repertoire didn’t interest me much. But although I’d read about Olivero I’d never heard her. He was aghast and included at the end of a tape I had ordered a few choice moments from her Met debut as Tosca. Immediately I was gripped by her throbbing voice and over-the-top commitment. There are several live Olivero Fanciulla performances “around” but this RAI broadcast from 1966 is probably the least well known. When I got this recording in college, I had never heard the opera and I have gradually come to admire it more than any Puccini work except for La Bohème. It’s not done often enough in the U.S. these days, although the Santa Fe Opera opens its 2016 season next month with a new Richard Jones production starring Patricia Racette. Puccini: La fanciulla del West RAI Torino 5 May 1966 Broadcast Minnie: Magda Olivero Dick: Gastone Limarilli Rance: Anselmo Colzani Conductor: Fernando Previtali “Trove Thursday” offerings can be downloaded via the audio-player above. Just click on the icon of a square with an arrow pointing downward and the resulting mp3 file will appear in your download directory. In addition, Fanciulla, Conti’s Don Quixote opera from last week and all previous fare remain available from iTunes or via any RSS reader.
Florence Foster Jenkins, the Hollywood biopic of the eponymous American amateur soprano, opened in UK cinemas this week; American movie-goers have to wait until August before being able to appreciate Meryl Streep’s commanding performance in the title role. Acting performance, that is. You may be new to the legend of FFJ (1868–1944), so we’ll start with a brief introduction to the lady that will also act as a prologue to the focus of this week’s blog. Some of the details of FFJ’s life and recording tally remain a bit fuzzy, but some things about the lady are quite clear: she loved singing, was bad at it, but was rich enough and socially connected enough to be able to bypass the challenges of self-awareness that most of us have to grapple with, projecting herself to the top of a ladder that very few can aspire to. To set the scene, here’s an extract from her recording of the technically demanding Bell Song (8.120711 ) from Delibes’ opera Lakmé. If that was like taking a cold shower in an igloo, let’s refresh by taking a pleasanter dip into the pool of brave ladies who fearlessly strut their stuff, centre stage, before an arena of critical listeners who come to get their tingle factor from fiendishly difficult, high-lying vocal lines dispatched with disarming ease: welcome to the world of the operatic dramatic coloratura soprano. The music that composers wrote with these singers in mind created a select super-class of exponents whose names live on. One who is very much alive, however, is the Chinese soprano, Dilbèr. She was born in Kashgar, a trading centre on the ancient Silk Road, in what is now the Uighur Autonomous Region of Xinjiang in northwestern China. But here she is in the 19th-century world of Italian opera, taking the role of Lisa in Bellini’s La sonnambula (The Sleepwalker) (8.660042-43 ). Spoiler alert: put away all valuable glassware to avoid possible shattering. Last month, the celebrated Russian soprano Anna Netrebko announced that she was pulling out of her engagement to sing the title role of another Bellini opera, Norma, at London’s Royal Opera House later this year. She said that her “voice has evolved in a different direction.” One can sympathise; walking this high-wire role has no hiding place. In contrast, Maria Callas (1923–1977) was a reliable champion of the role, performing it scores of times during her career. Here’s the diva in an extract from a 1953 performance of the aria Cast diva (8.110325-27 ). The German soprano Erna Berger had to endure a difficult and improbable prologue to her career as an opera star. Although her talent was recognised early on, her father decided to move the family to Paraguay where, following his death, the young Erna was forced to take on a job as a governess. She saved up enough money to return to Germany, however, where she studied singing in her spare time and worked in an office to keep the wolf from the door. She was eventually hired by Fritz Busch at the Dresden State Opera before joining the Berlin State Opera in 1934, where she remained for the next twenty years. She excelled in a comprehensive repertoire. Here she sings the Laughing Song (8.110733 ) from Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus. Coloratura passages were often used to colour the evil or demented nature of female characters in opera. Mozart incomparably employed the technique in the role of The Queen of the Night in The Magic Flute (8.660030-31 ). The aria Der Hölle Rache provides a clear example of someone at the extremes of normality, both in vocal technique and character, as sung here by Hellen Kwon. Donizetti’s opera Lucia di Lammermoor (8.660255-56 ) perhaps provides the ultimate for the unhinged in its so-called Mad Scene. Since the work’s première in 1835, the title role has always attracted the top coloratura sopranos of their day. Here is Dilbèr again as the terrified Lucia , bereft of reason, a blood-drenched dagger in hand (short synopsis only here!), leaving the listener thinking that a singer must indeed be insane to tackle such music, in costume, under the lights, and constrained by dramatic demands. And so we end where we began, with Florence Foster Jenkins, who died a few months after she took the leap from giving small-scale entertainments to taking to the stage at Carnegie Hall when, we are told, people were turned away in their thousands and scalpers were raking in their booty. It’s a bittersweet way to end this Thought for the Week, with a reprise of Mozart’s Queen of the Night aria , performed by the Diva of Din. I propose a toast to all eccentrics, everywhere, eternally!
Met Opera´s productions seen simultaneously via satellite at the Teatro El Nacional, organized by Pupi Sebastiani´s Fundación Beethoven, have become an indispensable way for local audiences to experience first-rate opera with artists that mainly haven´t been at the Colón. The final two of the 2015-16 season have been seen now, always on certain Saturdays at 2 pm. In October starts the 2016-17 activity, but many of those that have been appreciated in the recent series will be programmed again later this year at the Auditorium of the Fundación. The operas I am reviewing reflect the enormous variety of the world of opera both musically and dramatically. Gaetano Donizetti´s "Roberto Devereux" immerses us in the Late Elizabethan period through the lens of bel canto. Richard Strauss´ "Elektra" transports us to the dark world of Greek tragedy in Mycenaean times but with a Freudian twist. The prolific Donizetti wrote about 70 operas, buffo or dramatic. Success came only with his 34th, "Anna Bolena" (1830). It became his first to be staged in Paris and London and was followed by "Maria Stuarda" (1834) and "Roberto Devereux" (1837) to form the so-called trilogy of British Queens. After WWII there was a revival of bel canto and Maria Callas was essential in this trend: her Bolena set a pattern that was followed by great artists. Beverly Sills sang all three and here Adelaida Negri performed that feat with her own company. It is sad to consign that the Colón only offered "Anna Bolena" in 1970 and ignored the other two. But the Met has presented all three with a great artist unknown here: Sondra Radvanovsky. "Roberto Devereux", with libretto by Salvatore Cammarano based on a tragedy by François Ancelot ("Elisabeth d´Angleterre") , recounts a dramatic episode of the aging (69) Queen Elizabeth I. The year, 1601. Devereux, Earl of Essex, was the favorite of Elizabeth but theirs was a conflictive relationship. The Virgin Queen was called so because she never married, though she did have liaisons. Essex was brilliant, charming, in war courageous to the point of temerity; however, he lacked judgment and that was to prove fatal. Probably the Queen´s lover, he quarreled with her publicly and opposed her principal minister, Lord Robert Cecil. After failing to win a crucial battle against Scotland´s Tyrone, he plotted against the Queen, was tried and executed. The political facts are lightly touched upon in Cammarano´s libretto; instead, the accent is put on Robert´s affair with Sarah, Duchess of Nottingham (and the Duke is Robert´s best friend!). Cecil wants Robert´s death, but the Queen will only agree when she has the evidence of her lover´s romantic treason. In the final scene, the old monarch falls to pieces in desperation. The music is prime bel canto, with plenty of lovely melodies, although less elaborate than "Anna Bolena". None of the four principals has ever come to BA; any or all should be warmly welcomed in the future. Radvanovsky is marvelous, both in her singing and acting: a vast register, fine timbre, total control of florid passages, but foremost a moving transformation in the final half hour when she throws her wig away and is no longer a queen but a wretched old woman in total anguish. As her rival Sarah we have Elina Garança, to my mind the best mezzosoprano in the present scene: beauty, poise, perfect voice and style, expressive but contained. Tenor Matthew Polenzani has a sweet timbre and a firm technique; he transmits the mercurial quality of Essex. And baritone Mariusz Kwiecien gives us the two aspects of his role faithfully: he defends his friend to his own risk until he knows Robert´s treason and then becomes his infuriated enemy. The other parts are well taken. Conductor Maurizio Benini is a specialist in the genre, and of course both chorus and orchestra are excellent. Sir David McVicar´s staging respects time and place and it looks handsome (he is also stage designer; costumes by Moritz Junge). One fault: voyeurism (witnesses where there should be none). "Elektra" is Strauss´ undisputed masterpiece: his most audacious and intense score and the best one-acter in history. The libretto by Hugo Von Hoffmannsthal, based on Sophocles, makes it clear that we are seeing the ideal example of Freudian Electra complex. The main role is the longest and most exhausting of all in opera. Unfortunately Patrice Chéreau´s production (his last before dying) continually contradicts the libretto from the very beginning. Here voyeurism is stretched to the extreme and makes nonsense of most scenes, and apart from that he ruins the finale: it is basic that Klytämnestra and Aegisth (the assassins of Agamemnon) should be killed offstage, but here they die in full presence of the audience; and Electra doesn´t die, when the whole point is that once vengeance is accomplished she has no reason to live. But the three leading feminine parts save the day. I hadn´t had the opportunity to hear and see Nina Stemme, considered one of the great dramatic sopranos nowadays: and she certainly is. The voice is firm, the musicality strong, she acts vividly and has the stamina to stay the course. The veteran Waltraud Meier was a subtle Klytämnestra and Adrianne Pieczonka a radiant Chruysothemis. Only the Orest of Eric Owens seemed poorly cast. Esa-Pekka Salonen´s conducting was professional but short on impact; the enormous orchestra didn´t seem so. For Buenos Aires Herald
Updated, May 9, 2016: David Gregson's review of the San Diego performances. Jake Heggie's new opera, Great Scott, with libretto by Terrence McNally, opened this past week in Dallas. Now, I always cringe when I see McNally's name on the marquee, because I still have not forgiven him the gross distortions of Master Class. Yes, I know that art isn't biography, but Callas was a smart, professional, and insightful teacher, not an abusive, self-centered monster - the audio of the classes has circulate for years, so you can hear for yourself. The reviews are in, or most of them, and whaddaya know, the Dallas critics are a lot happier than the out-of-towners. Olin Chism, Star-Telegram. He describes Heggie's style as "lyrical and atmospheric while respectful of tradition." Note that this reviewer has not cottoned on to the fact that Joyce DiDonato is a mezzo-soprano...and he says little about the quality of the singing and staging.Scott Cantrell, Dallas Morning News. Describes Heggie's music as "thoroughly tonal and often tuneful."Heidi Walseon, WSJ. Her one-sentence summary: "A clumsy, overstuffed cross between a backstage comedy and a show-off exercise in compositional appropriation, wrapped in Mr. Heggie’s trademark singer-friendly but treacly tunes, Great Scott seems designed to make audiences feel smug about being insiders."Joshua Kosman, SF Chron. Says about what Waleson says, only a lot funnier. On Heggie, "There are stretches of elegantly alluring music, and others where Heggie’s writing turns derivative or mundane."David Gregson, Opera West. Note the presence of local favorite Philip Skinner in two roles. Gregson liked it, and the performances, but: "It often seems like a collection of clever scenes, many of them far too cute, all strung together without a really strong thread."I've got a tweet out to certain persons in NYC asking which of them has a ticket to Dallas. After reading these reviews, I suspect that I'd be in the Waleson/Kosman camp, with the tone of my review depending on the mood of the day. The opera sounds like it's at least partly lightweight, meaningless fun. There's room for a good comedy in modern opera, or ought to be (I keep touting Lysistrata, which has a serious side, and hoping it will get performed hereabouts), but this sounds as if it's got a lot of problems. Ideally, if it gets performed elsewhere, Heggie and McNally will tighten it up. Everybody complains about the length, which isn't so much about the actual length as about an overly busy plot where some plot strands have no justification. This was also an issue in The Gospel of Mary Magdalene, speaking of Mark Adamo, and, to a much lesser extent, Two Women. Among the new operas I've seen in the last 20 years, the best libretto was that of Tobias Picker's Dolores Claiborne, in which J.D. McClatchy turned a 300-page monolog of a novel into a taut and dramatic libretto. Going back further, to see how it's done, ahem, Tosca or Rigoletto for the swift gallop, or La Boheme, for a more discursive and episodic libretto where you still can't reasonably cut anything. There's a reason I'm pointing to those older libretti: Puccini and Verdi knew what would work and hammered their librettists mercilessly to get what they wanted. Current composers might consider doing exactly the same thing.
Kathleen Battle, a singer whose dismissal by the Metropolitan Opera more than twenty years ago made front-page news, will return to the Metropolitan Opera next season to sing a recital of spirituals. The concert, scheduled for Nov. 13, was arranged by Peter Gelb, the company’s general manager. “I think great artists should be on the stage of the Met,” Mr. Gelb said in an interview. “There aren’t enough of them.” Ms. Batttle’s dismissal — and return — calls to mind other clashes between opera divas and impresarios. Maria Callas, one of the great sopranos of the 20th century, was fired by the Met in 1958 after a dispute over which roles she would agree to sing. She, too, was rehired, in 1965, and returned to give two final Met performances of “Tosca” that are now considered legendary. Ms Battle’s concert will feature a selection of spirituals. Here is Kathleen Battle in “Voices of Spring” by Johann Strauss, in a performance with the Vienna Philharmonic, conducted by Herbert Von Karajan:
Great opera singers