Abandoned by Faust, and pregnant with his child, Marguerite goes to church to pray. There, she is menaced by the voice of Méphistophélès, the devil incarnate, who tells her she is going to Hell.
FAUST ~ Church Scene – Gabriella Tucci & Justino Diaz – Met 1966
Abandoned by Faust, and pregnant with his child, Marguerite goes to church to pray. There, she is menaced by the voice of Méphistophélès, the devil incarnate, who tells her she is going to Hell.
FAUST ~ Church Scene – Gabriella Tucci & Justino Diaz – Met 1966
Above: composer Vincenzo Bellini
~ Author: Oberon
Wednesday July 17th, 2019 – Will Crutchfield’s Teatro Nuovo presenting Bellini’s rarely-performed opera LA STRANIERA at Rose Hall in the Jazz at Lincoln Center home-space. The semi-staged performance featured the following cast:
Alaide (La Straniera) – Christine Lyons, soprano
Isoletta – Alina Tamborini, soprano
Arturo – Derrek Stark, tenor
Valdeburgo – Steven LaBrie, baritone
Il Priore – Vincent Grana, bass
Montolino – Dorian McCall, bass-baritone
Osburgo – Isaac Frishman, tenor
Chorus and Orchestra of Teatro Nuovo
Will Crutchfield, maestro al cembalo
Jakob Lehmann, primo violino e capo d’orchestra
Written in 1829, LA STRANIERA was Bellini’s fourth opera. It has, in the last 50 years, been briefly associated with such bel canto paragons as Renata Scotto and Montserrat Caballe. One of the Scotto performances, from Palermo 1968, was in my reel-to-reel collection for years; hearing the opera live tonight brought back memories of enjoying her persuasive styling of this music.
In terms of plot, the opera borders on the risible: a queen (Alaide, known as La Straniera – the “Foreign Woman”) has been living incognito in a hut by a lake. She has inspired the love of the local Count Arturo, who murders a supposed rival who is in fact Alaide’s brother. Somehow, it’s Alaide who is accused of having committed the murder; but at her trial, the dead man suddenly shows up, saying he had fallen into the lake. Things muddle on until the king’s messenger appears to tell Alaide (turns out she’s the Queen of France) that she must resume the throne as the ‘other’ queen has died. At this news, the still-smitten Count Arturo kills himself, and Alaide has the obligatory mad scene. As with so many operas written in this time period, the story line is merely an excuse for a lot of singing.
Musically, LA STRANIERA has its moments but they are rather few and far between. There’s an awful lot of filler, most of it pleasant enough…but it’s music that rarely grips the imagination. There is no feeling of a musico-dramatic arc in the opera, but rather a series of disjointed scenes in which the story’s convoluted twists and turns make minimal sense. Above all, if these old operas are to be revived, the singing must be spectacular.
Vocally, the opening scene for Valdeburgo and Isoletta was really impressive and augured well for the rest of the evening. Baritone Steven LaBrie has a handsome voice, sizeable and expressive, with a gift for dramatic nuance. As Isoletta, a hapless bride-to-be, Alina Tamborini displayed a most interesting timbre, with a trace of flicker-vibrato that was very appealing. She has the wide range demanded by the composer – clear high notes and plush low ones – and a lovely trill.
Tenor Derrek Stark’s sustained opening note of his long introductory recitative assured us that his would be a pleasing voice to hear in Arturo’s plentiful music. Later, in uncomprehending anger, Mr. Stark unleashed a brilliant top note that sent wave of murmuring approval thru the hall. The tenor’s flashy jacket was something of a visual distraction, though.
Just as the onstage harp solo announcing the appearance of La Straniera (Alaide) sounded, the man sitting behind us began rummaging thru his belongings; he continued, undeterred by dirty looks and shushing. I think he was looking for a sandwich. This interruption was the beginning of ongoing deterrents to my concentration.
Soprano Christine Lyons’s offstage opening lines did not intrigue; her voice had a throaty quality which – luckily – would soon become less evident. As the first act unfolded, the soprano produced many fine passages, with a good feel for dynamics and for the text. In her scenes with Mr. LaBrie and Mr. Stark, Ms. Lyons offered expressive singing, with an appealing sense of the character’s vulnerability.
Having been accused of murdering Valdeburgo, Alaide has a ‘mad scene’ in which she incoherently tries to explain to the angered townspeople why she is holding a bloody sword. The vocal demands here, which come in fits and starts, brought out a weighted chest voice from the soprano that seemed better suited to verismo than bel canto.
While all this was happening, the hall had become freezing due to air conditioning overkill. A woman in the front row kept checking her phone, the screen flashing brightly. In front of us were a whispering couple. Across the aisle, a squeaky chair added an unwanted obbligato to the music. And the young primo violino e capo d’orchestra, seated at audience level, was animated to the point of distraction.
Midway thru the intermission, we decided that Bellini had delighted us long enough.
~ Oberon
Basso Paolo Washington (above) was a featured artist at the major opera houses of Italy, beginning with his professional debut at the Teatro Comunale, Florence, in 1958. He subsequently appeared at La Scala, Rome, and Naples, and participated in broadcasts by the RAI.
Chicago Lyric Opera was Washington’s home base in the United States. From 1968 thru 1997, he appeared in 14 roles for a total of 101 performances with the Company He sang in operas by Donizetti and Bellini, as well as in Stravinsky’s LE ROSSIGNOL and OEDIPUS REX. He was particularly admired for his moving portrayals of Colline in LA BOHEME and Timur in TURANDOT.
Washington was heard throughout Spain, and also at Geneva, Marseille, Nice, Toulouse, and Lisbon, and at the Salzburg and Bregenz festivals. His wide repertory extended from Handel to the 20th century works by Prokofiev and Hans Werner Henze. He appeared only twice at the Metropolitan Opera, in the title role of DON PASQUALE in 1979.
He passed away in 2008 at the age of 75.
Above: pianist Juho Pohjonen
~ Author: Oberon
Sunday July 14th, 2019 – The second of three concerts in Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s annual Summer Evenings series brought together a trio of esteemed CMS artists joined by The New York Philharmonic’s beloved principal clarinetist Anthony McGill. No French music on this Bastille Day program; Austria, Germany, and Russia were represented. The playing was superb.
Above: violinist Bella Hristova, photo by Lisa-Marie Mazzucco
With Mr. Pohjonen at the Steinway, Ms. Hristova opened the concert with Mozart’s Sonata in B-flat major for Violin and Piano, K. 454, which dates from 1784. Fittingly enough, this sonata was composed for a female violinist: Mozart wrote it for the Viennese debut of Regina Strinasacchi, and he himself was the pianist on that occasion. Female violinists were quite rare in those days. Signorina Strinasacchi had studied at the famous Ospedale della Pietà in Venice where Antonio Vivaldi had once served as music director. She was 21 years old at the time of her Vienna debut, and was said to be a dazzling violin virtuoso who had also trained as an opera singer.
Ms. Hristova, who in March of this year gave a dazzling recital at Merkin Hall, looked fetching in a dusty rose à la Grecque frock. After a courtly – almost regal – introduction, Ms. Hristova’s playing of the affecting first melody set the mood. She and Mr. Pohjonen traded melodic statements, making it clear from the start that they are ideal colleagues. The music gets lively, with little hesitations and subtleties woven in; abundant charm and sweet lyricism prevail.
A tender theme commences the Andante; the musicians take turns playing melody and rhythmic figurations. Ms. Hristova’s phrasing is so appealing here. The music turns a bit melancholy, with a sense of passion restrained. A sustained note from the violinist leads on to a sort of coda and a gentle finish.
The sonata’s concluding Allegretto is a lot of fun; violinist and pianist sometimes play in unison and sometimes harmonize. The pacing and dynamics offer pleasing contrasts along the way to a virtuosic finale.
Anthony McGill (above) then joined Nicholas Canellakis and Mr. Pohjonen for Johannes Brahms Trio in A-minor for Clarinet, Cello, and Piano, Op. 114. This was composed in 1891, after Brahms had heard the great clarinetist Richard Mühlfeld and was much taken with the sound of the instrument.
Mr. Canellakis has the trio’s opening statement – a rich melodic passage – and soon Mr. McGill’s clarinet makes its sublime entrance. From the Steinway, Mr. Pohjonen pulses up and the music takes off, calming for a cello solo in which Mr. Canellakis’s depth of tone makes a marvelous impression. Cello and clarinet bring incredible subtlety to a scale passage, and there’s a trace of gypsy lilt in the music. Following more scalework, the Allegro fades away.
At the start of the Andante, Mr McGill’s lambent tone is beautifully matched to Mr. Canellakis’s, producing a spellbinding blend: ‘phrasing is all’ here as the voices entwine. To their mix, Mr. Pohjonen adds his poetic playing. The Andantino grazioso begins like a serenade: the clarinet sings while the cello provides a plucked accompaniment. This lighthearted movement transforms itself into a waltz, which proceeds lyrically.
Mr. Canellakis’s cello digs into the final Allegro, with the piano urgent and the clarinet vibrant. The music is broad, with a folkish feel. Descending phrases are heard, and the trio finds a brisk ending.
Following the interval, Nick Canellakis (above) along with Ms. Hristova and Mr. Pohjonen, offered Anton Arensky’s Trio No. 1 in D-minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 32. Whenever I hear Mr. Canellakis playing, I find myself thinking back to his magnificent performance of Leon Kirchner’s Music for Cello and Orchestra at Carnegie Hall in 2015.
Arensky (above) is something of a forgotten composer – unfairly, in my view. You can read about him, and hear some of his music, here. Listening to his music, you can see where Scriabin and Rachmaninoff profited from having been Arensky’s students.
Bella Hristova’s gorgeous violin solo plays over restless patterns from the Steinway; the cello then takes up the melody. Mr. Pohjonen relishes the con moto sweep of the virtuoso writing for piano. “This is fabulous music!”, I scrawled across my notes. The string players exchange bits of melody, the pianist deftly dispatches phrase after lovely phrase. A soft, sustained violin note ends the Allegro moderato.
The second movement is a sprightly Scherzo, with plucked strings and high trills from the piano: at times the instruments sound almost like toys. Mr. Pohjonen’s tone shimmers throughout. An engaging waltz gets quite grand, and, after some wry hesitations, the Scherzo‘s end is lighthearted.
A tender, reflective cello solo opens the Elegia; the music seems to recall happier times that have been left behind. Ms. Hristova’s violin climbs poignantly higher and higher, whilst Mr. Canellakis’s cello again sounds from the depths.
From a turbulent start, the cello and then the violin carry the melody of the concluding Allegro non troppo: this music is very much à la Russe. As passion ebbs and flows thru the melodies, the shining piano and soft strings lend an ethereal air. The composer then crafts a lively finale for his trio.
Ms. Hristova and Mssrs. Canellakis and Pohjonen were greeted with great enthusiasm at the program’s end, and insistent applause brought them out for a second bow.
~ Oberon
Above: Gian Carlo Menotti
A day at work in the opera room at Tower Records could veer, in the twinkling of an eye, from the accustomed drudgery of a job in retail to memorable encounters with artists from the world of classical music and dance.
Over the nine years that I worked in that now-forgotten space, it sometimes felt like the center of the world. Singers – from Juilliard hopefuls to retired divas – came in on a daily basis. Conductors (Ehrling, Levine, and Conlon, among others) and designers (Ming Cho Lee was a lovely regular), and even famous fans (Mayor Giuliani – hate him if you want, but he was a true opera-lover…), all made their way to 66th and Broadway.
One day in November of 2001, a very elegantly dressed older gentlemen stepped into my small domain. It took me only a moment to recognize Gian Carlo Menotti. Mr. Menotti was in New York City for events surrounding the 50th anniversary of his “TV opera”, AMAHL AND THE NIGHT VISITORS; but he did not mention that at all in the course of our chat. He was wearing a light grey suit, immaculately tailored, and his noble posture was that of a much younger man (he was 90, I believe, at the time). His Old World manners and the delightful cordiality of his speaking voice put me at ease.
Above: Roberta Peters as Kitty in Mr. Menotti’s opera THE LAST SAVAGE
We talked, surprisingly enough, about his comic opera THE LAST SAVAGE, which had had its US premiere at the Old Met in 1964. I mentioned that I would love to see the opera performed again, and he smiled and said: “You remember the music, then? Which parts did you most enjoy?” (I think he doubted that I could actually recall anything specific from the piece.)
Since the voices of George London, Roberta Peters, Nicolai Gedda, and Teresa Stratas are indelibly linked in my mind to their arias from THE LAST SAVAGE, I began to ‘sing’ little snatches for him. By the time I got to Kitty’s line, “Let me explain to you the how and the why: no anthropologist is braver than I!”, he was smiling. “Oh…wonderful! You must tell the people at The Met to revive it!”
Mr. Menotti found the recording he’d been looking for; we shook hands and bowed to one another as he departed.
Gian Carlo Menotti was the lover and domestic partner of Samuel Barber, a relationship that was sustained for forty years. Above, a photo from 1936 shows what a handsome couple they were.
In 2007, I read of Mr. Menotti’s death at Monte Carlo. Although there was a place reserved for him next to Samuel Barber’s grave at West Chester, Pennsylvania, Menotti was buried in Gifford, East Lothian, Scotland, beneath the simplest of stone markers:
If AMAHL is probably Menotti’s most widely-known opera, and if THE LAST SAVAGE still sings in my mind, it’s with Magda’s aria “To this we’ve come...” from THE CONSUL that the composer made his most enduring statement. Desperate to get a visa so that her husband can escape persecution by the secret police, Madga Sorel fights a losing battle against bureaucratic indifference to her plight.
Watch Patricia Neway’s incredible performance of this scene here.
Magda’s aria opens with these chillingly timely lines:
“To this we’ve come:
that men withhold the world from men.
No ship nor shore for him who drowns at sea.
No home nor grave for him who dies on land.
To this we’ve come:
that man be born a stranger upon God’s earth,
that he be chosen without a chance for choice,
that he be hunted without the hope of refuge.
To this we’ve come.
And you, you too shall weep!”
~ Oberon
Blanche Thebom (above), the glamorous mezzo-soprano whose career at The Met lasted over 30 years, was as well-known for her magnetic stage presence and her sensationally long hair as for her singing.
She made her debut with the Metropolitan Opera Company in 1944 as Brangaene in TRISTAN UND ISOLDE in a performance at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; two weeks later, she sang Fricka in DIE WALKURE at The Met. These performances drew rave reviews for Ms. Thebom, both for her singing and for her distinctive beauty and dramatic flair.
Ms. Thebom went on to sing more that 360 performances with the Metropolitan Opera Company, in New York and on tour. She was a much-admired Carmen and Dalila, and in Verdi she made a regal impression as Amneris and Princess Eboli. She seemed capable of singing anything, from Adalgisa in NORMA to Venus in TANNHAUSER, while – in a lighter vein – she appeared as Prince Orlofsky and as Dorbella in COSI FAN TUTTE.
Above: Blanche Thebom as Princess Eboli
Blanche Thebom – O don fatale ~ DON CARLO
Ms. Thebom appeared in the US premieres of two important works at The Met: as Baba the Turk in Stravinsky’s RAKE’S PROGRESS in 1953, and as Adelaide in Strauss’s ARABELLA in 1955. In the 1960s, she undertook what might be called “principal character” roles such as Genevieve in PELLEAS ET MELISANDE, Magdalene in MEISTERSINGER, and the Old Baroness in VANESSA. Her last role was that of the Countess in Tchaikovsky’s QUEEN OF SPADES – performed in English, at the New Met – in which she appeared opposite Teresa Stratas and Jon Vickers.
After retiring from the Met, Blanche Thebom taught singing and also served on the Metropolitan Opera’s Board of Directors until 2008. She passed away in 2010, at the age of 94.
In my earliest days of opera-loving, Blanche Thebom was already spoken of in our house. My father, who had seen her on TV, referred to her as ‘Blanche the Bomb’ due to her physical allure. And my grandmother told me about Thebom’s legendary hair, which had been used as a dramatic device when she sang Berlioz’s Dido at Covent Garden in 1957 (photo above).
I finally heard Thebom’s voice on the radio in 1962:
Metropolitan Opera House
December 29th, 1962 Matinee/Broadcast
PELLÉAS ET MÉLISANDE
Pelléas.................Nicolai Gedda
Mélisande...............Anna Moffo
Golaud..................George London
Arkel...................Jerome Hines
Geneviève...............Blanche Thebom
Yniold..................Teresa Stratas
Physician...............Clifford Harvuot
Shepherd................William Walker
Conductor...............Ernest Ansermet
Listening to her sing Debussy’s Genevieve on a Texaco broadcast of PELLEAS ET MELISANDE, I was well-prepared to like her. And like her I did, so much so that I wrote her a letter; soon after, I received this elegant reply:
More samplings of Blanche Thebom’s singing below. In RHEINGOLD, her usual role was Fricka, but I’m partial to her recording of Erda’s Warning:
Blanche Thebom – Weiche Wotan weiche! ~ RHEINGOLD
Blanche Thebom – Mon coeur s´ouvre a ta vois ~ SAMSON & DALILA
Blanche Thebom – Wolf ~ Um Mitternacht
~ Oberon
Above: dancer Cecily Placenti
On Thursday and Friday, June 27th and 28th, 2019, Catherine Gallant/DANCE present ESCAPE FROM THE HOUSE OF MERCY on Pat’s Lawn at Inwood Hill Park. Detailed information about these performances – and the story behind the dancework – may be found here.
An excerpt from ESCAPE FROM THE HOUSE OF MERCY was presented at the Baruch Performing Arts Center in April; it was at that time that I learned about the institution for which the dancework is named – the House of Mercy – and that it was located just a few blocks from where I live, up here at the Northern tip of Manhattan.
Under the guise of caring for young women who had gone astray, places like the House of Mercy were modeled on the Magdalen Laundries created by the Catholic Church in Ireland. Essentially they were prisons, where the ‘inmates’ worked long hours doing laundry, wardened by nuns who resorted to cruel punishments to enforce discipline among their charges.
Ms. Gallant told me that the site of the House of Mercy was off the beaten path where I often take my daily hikes: the trail that leads up from Inwood Hill Park, under the Henry Hudson Bridge, and down to the banks of the Hudson River. In such a place, the girls would have been truly isolated from the world. The House of Mercy was demolished in 1933; in Ireland, apparently, such places existed until the 1990s.
On Tuesday, June 25th, a dress rehearsal for the presentation took place on Pat’s Lawn. I went over to observe; at first there was a feeling of chaos as other events in the park distracted from the matter at hand. But soon things settled in, and I was able to take a few pictures.
An instrumental ensemble, led by trumpeter Kevin Blanq, perform New Orleans funeral songs and music by Lisa Bielawa live. Their instruments seem to have stories of their own to tell.
Above: dancer Jessie King and tuba player Kenny Bentley.
Ivana Drazic designed the costumes, which have the look of petticoats, old work clothes, and aprons.
Jessie King
Cecily Placenti, Halley Gerstel
Abra Cohen
Megan Minturn
Abra Cohen
Charlotte Hendrickson, Kelli Chapman
Halley Gerstel, Abra Cohen
Jessie King, Megan Minturn
Kelli, Halley, Abra, Megan, Charlotte, Cecily
Cecily Placenti
Charlotte Hendrickson, Halley Gerstel
Cecily Placenti
Megan, Cecily, Abra
Halley Gerstel
The dancers are: Kelli Chapman, Abra Cohen, Halley Gerstel, Jessie King, Charlotte Hendrickson, Erica Lessner, Megan Minturn, and Cecly Placenti
The musicians are: Kevin Blancq (group leader/trumpet), Scott Bourgeois (tenor sax), Rick Faulkner (trombone), Kenny Bentley (tuba), Moses Patrou (snare drum), and Connor Elmes (bass drum)
~ Oberon
Zlatomir Fung (above, in a Matt Dine photo) has won First Prize in the cello division at the 2019 Tchaikovsky Competition. Established in 1958, and held every four years in Moscow and St. Petersburg, the Competition has – over time – added categories of cello and voice to the initial competitions for pianists and violinists.
Earlier this year, I had the great pleasure of attending Mr. Fung’s New York recital debut under the auspices of Young Concert Artists. It was an outstanding evening of music-making, and it did not surprise me in the least to learn today that the young cellist has seized the top prize at the Tchaikovsky: he’s simply phenomenal.
Mr. Fung and pianist Tengku Irfan played Gabriel Fauré’s Après un rêve as an encore at their Merkin Hall YCA recital in February of this year. Listen to it here.
~ Oberon
Oberon's Glade 