Author: Philip Gardner

AIDA at the Teatro Colon 1968

This 1968 performance of AIDA from the Teatro Colon, Buenos Aires, cropped up on the Opera Depot website and thought the combination of Martina Arroyo (above) and Carlo Bergonzi as Aida and Radames would be exciting to hear, since they are two of my all-time favorite Verdi singers. Both are in prodigious voice, providing phrase after phrase of wonderfully generous vocalism. My thanks to Dmitry for making me a copy.

Martina Arroyo never made a commercial recording of AIDA, and Bergonzi’s Radames on the Decca label (with Tebaldi) was recorded in an unusual acoustic which even later tampering-with could not make really enjoyable. So it’s wonderful to have this live recording from the Colon in perfectly good sound and with both singers on impressive vocal form.

The Teatro Colon (above) is a vast house (1,000 standees may be accommodated), and over the years has been rated high acoustically by singers and listeners alike. On this evening in 1968, the crowd surely senses that they are hearing teriffic vocalism from Arrroyo and Bergonzi and they repay the singers with generous ovations throughout the performance.

Bruno Bartoletti is on the podium; over the years I have heard performances conducted by this man that seem ideal and others that are less inspiring. For this AIDA he sets a generally fast pace (the ballet segments are wickedly speedy – I would not want to have been dancing in this performance!) but he certainly gives his singers a lot of leeway, and they enjoy lingering on high notes and having the opportunity to sustain favorite phrases.

There are some off-notes and a few unhappy bits from the pit musicians, and one jarring passage in the Tomb Scene where Bartoletti inexplicably rushes ahead of Bergonzi who is in the middle of some raptly poetic music-making; it takes a few bars to get things back in sync.

Carlo Bergonzi (above) has always been my personal king of tenors; yes, I know all his flaws and yes, he went on singing too long after he should have stopped. But in his heyday he was just so thoroughly pleasing to listen to, his marvelous turns of phrase and beautifully sustained vocalism always make me feel…happy. The beauty of hearing the Italian language wrapped in Bergonzi’s plangently expressive sound has always given me particular joy; even now, if I’m feeling blue, I’ll reach for that first Decca recital disc and soon I’m transported out of myself and basking in the music that has kept me – both spiritually and psychologically – on an even keel all these years. His singing in this AIDA is simply marvelous to experience: the unstinting generosity of both voice and style, the many small touches of sustained notes and his lovely colourings of the words in a rich emotional palette. It’s Verdi tenor singing at its best.

Martina Arroyo is in glorious voice also, rich and even throughout the role’s vast range. If she does not employ the ravishing piano effects that some sopranos have in this music, we are amply compensated with the velvety splendour of Arroyo’s sound and her plush phrasing, as well as her dramatic awareness which never carries her to excess. In this grand performance, the great Martina rises to the high-C of ‘O patria mia’ – a note which has defeated many a soprano – with blessed assurance and sustains it with glorious ease. In the opera’s concluding Tomb Scene, she and Bergonzi trade passages of soul-pleasing Verdi vocalism, and together they sustain their final joint phrase seemingly beyond the realm of human possibility.

The Serbian mezzo-soprano Biserka Cvejic (above) is probably not on anyone’s list of top-ten mezzos; yet if she had been the Amneris in either of the last two AIDAs I heard at The Met, I would have been satisfied. It’s a crusty, Old-World sound with an ample and pleasing chest register and higher notes sometimes approached from below. Cvejic has the role well in hand and if her singing doesn’t rise to the level of the soprano and tenor, neither does she let down her side of the triangle.

Cornell MacNeil is a powerful, dramatic Amonasro and I was surprised to find Nicola Rossi-Lemeni listed as Ramfis: this basso – a famous stage-creature of the 1950s – is surely nearing the end of his singing career by 1968. If not vocally prime, he surprises with some very robust moments (‘Immenso Ptah!’) and makes an authoritative impression.

March 26, 2013
The Temptress

In the film WHITE MISCHIEF – which I have watched a good two dozen times since I first saw it at the cinema in 1987 – the character of Alice de Janzé (above) is played by the English actress Sarah Miles. The film revolves around the still-unsolved murder – in Kenya in 1941 – of Josslyn Victor Hay, 22nd Earl of Erroll.

Lord Erroll was a notorious womanizer and a major player in the Happy Valley crowd – a group of wealthy British ex-pats who came to Africa prior to the start of the second World War and lived as gentlemen farmers: drinking, hunting, playing polo and sleeping with other men’s wives.

During the night of January 24,1941 Joss Erroll was killed by a shot to the head fired by an unknown assailant who had flagged down the Earl’s Buick on the Nairobi-Ngong Road. The car with his Lordship’s body slumped on the floor was found at dawn, stalled in a ditch with its headlights still on.

Suspicion fell on Sir Jock Delves Broughton with whose wife Diana the Earl of Erroll has been carying on a very public and high-profile affair. Sir Jock stood trial for the murder but the case against him was weakened by several factors: he was known to have passed out drunk on the night of the murder, and his physical infirmities (night blindness and a limp caused by an old injury) seemed to preclude the notion that he had walked the two miles from his villa to the murder site (and back home) in the darkness of the African night.

Alice de Janzé was in the courtroom every day of the proceedings. She has been having an off-again-on-again affair with Joss Erroll for a long time and was thought to be deeply in love with him. She was known to have been jealous of Joss’s involvement with Diana Delves Broughton.

In the film, when the case against Sir Jock seems to be unraveling, Jock’s lawyer points to Alice – seated in the gallery – and alludes to the fact that she should in fact be on trial, having both motive and opportunity, as well as a weapon to carry out the crime.

“Has the Countess de Janzé been eliminated as a suspect?” the judge asks the prosecutor.

“She has, your Honor.”

“On what grounds?”

“On the grounds that she was in bed with a gentleman at the time.”

To which Ms. Miles as Alice pipes up: “But we weren’t doing anything!”

The jury acquitted Sir Jock of the murder of his friend the Earl of Erroll; but suspicion clung to him and a year later – his life complicated by financial woes – he committed suicide. The other prospective suspect in the Erroll murder, Alice de Janzé, went on for a few months with her eccentric life; then she too killed herself with a self-inflicted gunshot on September 30th, 1941, shortly after having turned 42 and facing a diagnosis of uterine cancer.

In view of all this, Paul Spicer’s biography of Alice de Janzé, entitled The Temptress, was a fascinating read for me. Alice, an American, became a French aristocrat in 1921 when she married Count Frederic de Janzé. The couple had two daughters – to whom Alice could not relate and turned their upbringing over to an aunt and various governesses – and they lived for a while in Paris before moving to Kenya where Alice was absorbed into Happy Valley set. She met and lunched with Karen Blixen, known by her pen-name Isak Dinesen, perhaps the most famous landowner in Kenya at the time and the subject of the film OUT OF AFRICA.

In 1926 the Count and Countess returned to Paris in an effort to save their marriage following much excessive behavior on Alice’s part in Kenya. But Alice then took up with Raymund de Trafford, with whom she had already started an affair in Kenya, and as this romance became increasingly intense, her husband the Count de Janzé quietly filed for divorce.

On March 25th, 1927, de Trafford informed Alice that their hoped-for marriage would not be possible: he stood to be disinherited if he married her, his family finding Alice not up to their standards. He was being summoned back to London immediately, and Alice went with him to the Gare du Nord to say farewell. As the couple embraced in the train compartment, Alice pulled out a small revolver and shot de Trafford and then herself. They both survived; Alice stood trial, and her shooting of her lover was eventually determined to have been an attempt at suicide gone awry. She had spent time in a mental hospital as she recovered from her gunshot wound; she received a suspended sentence of six months and paid a fine of 100 francs as penance for her crime of passion.

Above: Alice de Janzé at her trial

Incredibly, de Trafford did finally marry Alice in 1932 but the marriage quickly soured. In 1937, following their divorce, Alice resumed her life in Kenya, now heavily addicted to drugs. The Erroll murder and ensuing trial were to comprise the final chapter of her life.

Visiting the morgue where Joss Erroll’s body was laid out, Alice was said to have kissed his lips and said “Now you are mine forever!” In the film WHITE MISCHIEF, this scene takes on a far more graphic, sexual tone.

In THE TEMPTRESS, Paul Spicer is able to convince us that Alice de Janzé was the real murderer of Joss Erroll. She had the motive of jealousy, was known to be capable of shooting someone she loved, and she knew where Joss would be on that fateful night. A set of tire tracks indicating a vehicle heading up the Nairobi road away from the murder scene – and in the direction of Alice’s home – were never thoroughly investigated. The contents of Alice’s suicide notes were never revealed, though the author feels they likely contained a confession.

Alice de Janzé was buried by the river that ran thru her property at Wanjohi Farm in Kenya. Her grave was unmarked to prevent possible looting by the native Kikuyu.

March 25, 2013
Rehearsal: Cherylyn Lavagnino Dance

Above: dancer Justin Flores, photo by Kokyat.

Sunday March 24, 2013 – Today I went over to to the studios at Tisch/NYU where Cherylyn Lavagnino was working with her dancers on a new ballet set to the Schubert piano trio in E-flat, a piece that has always evoked dance images for me. Entitled TREIZE EN JEU, it is an ensemble work that features intimate duets mixed into a larger and finely-structured setting.

Stepping off the elevator to the second-floor studio space, the sounds of the Schubert score at once made me feel that I was in for something special, and that was indeed the case. A roomful of dancers, many of whom I know, were mid-phrase when I walked into the studio. It took only a few seconds of observation to determine that this would be a truly pleasing afternoon, as much to the ear as to the eye.

Cherylyn Lavagnino’s works, though fresh in detail, are rooted in the traditions of classical ballet. The girls are on pointe and the vocabulary is rich. Subtle nuances in the port de bras and partnering put a distinctive gleam on the choreography, and transitions from unison ensemble passages to a focus on individuals or couples are accomplished in the twinkling of an eye. The dance springs ever from the music, and what heart-filling music it is.

For this large work, Cherylyn has assembled a group of dancers with a high level of technical accomplishment and with distinctive personalities. They work beautifully as a collective yet their individuality is never submerged; thus in the bigger moments of the work the eye is constantly lured from dancer to dancer.

A series of duets give us a chance to savor some lovely partnerships: Claire Westby and Eric Williams, Laura Mead and Justin Flores, Ramona Kelley and Adrian Silver, and the long-limbed and lithe pairing of Giovanna Gamna and Michael Gonzalez. Each couple creates a unique atmosphere; it was so satisfying to watch them ironing out the details under Cherylyn’s watchful eye. Justin later worked on the piece with the delicious Selina Chau – there will be double-casting during the performance run at Baruch College in June. Samuel Swanton joined in an energetic male quartet, and two very attractive apprentices – Kristin Deiss and Lila Simmons – filled out a double-trio of women who weave patterns while the sumptuous Claire and Eric are dancing. Laura Mead who made such a lovely impression in Pontus Lidberg’s WITHIN for Morphoses last October, looks fetching indeed, and the elongated shapes created by Giovanna and Michael gave their duet a particular appeal.

It was particularly meaningful for me to see Ramona and Adrian dancing together again, for it was in this very studio in 2009 that I first met them when they were rehearsing a John-Mark Owen duet. Their partnership remains an intriguing combination of delicacy and strength.

As the dancers dispersed after a final run-thru, Selina and Justin remained to do some intensive work on the partnering. Their dedication and keen focus on detail gave a clue as to why Cherylyn’s works always end up looking so good.

This new Schubert ballet can be seen (with the score played live!) from June 12th thru 19th when Cherylyn Lavagnino joins Dušan Týnek Dance Theatre and Zvi Gotheiner as part of the inaugural year of a new festival
celebrating music and dance at Baruch College. Exact dates and times will be announced soon, and the festival extends thru June 22nd with solo nights for Zvi and Dušan.

March 24, 2013
Paul Taylor @ Lincoln Center 2013 #5

Above: from Paul Taylor’s PROMETHEAN FIRE. Photo by Paul B Goode. Click on the image to enlarge.

Saturday March 23rd, 2013 matinee – My final performance of the Paul Taylor Dance Company‘s 2013 Lincoln Center season. It’s been a brilliant three weeks and the Company are dancing superbly. Celebrating Bach’s birthday with a Bach ballet on every single programme has been an added source of joy, and the Company’s press liaison Lisa Labrado assured me of a warm welcome every time I attended. The Taylor company are outstandingly generous to dance writers, and it’s always a great pleasure to find Rachel Berman and Richard Chen-See – former Company dancers – circulating among the guests, making us feel a part of the Taylor family.

This matinee opened with KITH AND KIN, dating from 1987 and set to a Mozart serenade. A tall and elegant couple in brown – radiant Amy Young and James Samson – preside over a flock of energetic young people who seem to be celebrating the sheer joy of being alive in stylized passages of leaps and restless comings and goings. Set slightly apart from this community is the magnetic Heather McGinley, a friendly (and gorgeous) guardian angel. In the central adagio, Amy and James dance with formal grace as Aileen Roehl and Michael Apuzzo swirl about them, perhaps representing their younger selves. This ballet, new to me this season, shows a happy meeting place of generations, with the stately ‘senior’ couple presiding overall yet still capable of having a little fun of their own.

The poignantly dark splendours of THE UNCOMMITTED evolve first to the gleaming, celestial strains of Arvo Part’s Fratres as the dancers – in richly-hued body stockings with rose-red highlights – appear in a series of brief solos. This is a world inhabited by lonely spirits, seeking – but eventually unable – to connect with one another. Paul Taylor again turns again to Mozart as a series of duets unfold; each couple hovers on the brink of understanding but in the end none can sustain a relationship. Even the number of dancers involved – eleven – implies from the start that there will always be an odd man out. Despite its rather bleak emotional outlook, THE UNCOMMITTED provides a wonderful opportunity to focus on the individual lustre of each of the dancers – and what an ensemble it is: Michael Trusnovec, Amy Young, Robert Kleinendorst, Michelle Fleet, Parisa Khobdeh, Eran Bugge, Francsco Graciano, Laura Halzack, Michael Apuzzo, Aileen Roehl and Michael Novak.

Bach provides the setting for a grand finale to the programme: PROMETHEAN FIRE. For this ballet, the entire Company are onstage; the dancers listed above are joined by James Samson, Sean Mahoney, Jamie Rae Walker, Heather McGinley and George Smallwood. In their velvety black costumes subtly trimmed with silver, the dancers revel in Mr. Taylor’s complex and visually inspiring combinations: PROMETHEAN FIRE is a masterpiece of structure, formal yet joyously human in expression. The heart of this sumptuous ballet is an adagio in which the combined genius of Mozart and Taylor moves us to the highest realms of spiritual satisfaction. Parisa Khobdeh and Michael Trusnovec were at their most transportive here, the partnering remarkable in its beauty and power, their personal magnetism magically aglow. Indeed it was one of the most moving and soul-stirring experiences in my long memory of watching dance.

PROMETHEAN FIRE concludes with a splendid tableau of the Company dancers and for a moment we could simply relish their collective perfection, for it is they who in the end have the ultimate responsibility of making the choreography live and breathe. Then Mr. Taylor appeared for a bow and the audience swept to their feet with resounding cheers.

March 23, 2013
Paul Taylor @ Lincoln Center 2013 #4

Above: Robert Kleinendorst of Paul Taylor Dance Company in SPEAKING IN TONGUES. Photo by Paul B Goode. Click on the image to enlarge.

Thursday March 21st, 2013 – Paul Taylor Dance Company have been celebrating Johann Sebastian Bach throughout their current Lincoln Center season: there’s been a Bach ballet on every programme and today – the actual birthdate of the peerless composer – the dancers gave a glorious performance of ESPLANADE, seeming to up their ‘normal’ level of energy, musicality, passion and sheer daring to a breathtaking point.

The programme opened with SPEAKING IN TONGUES, a complex work which always leaves me with mixed feelings. Matthew Patton’s score does not seem strong enough to sustain a ballet which lasts almost an hour, and to my aging ears the interjections of spoken word no longer have the clarity needed to make a dramatic impact. The work stretches long, but there is no part of it that seems expendable: it is what it is, and perhaps best viewed with a focus on individual dancers.

Surely there are few dance experiences today to equal the thrill of watching Michael Trusnovec onstage. This dancer with his taut, slender muscularity and singular artistry gave a transfixing rendering of the preacher-man’s opening solo and then moved thru the rest of the ballet with compelling dramatic intensity. Likewise Robert Kleinendorst as the Odd Man Out struck a vibrant note as his open, innocent personality is slowly dismantled by the holier-than-thou congregation; he’s literally beaten into submission, and at last taken into the cult. Also making a strong impact in this work were Amy Young, Laura Halzack, James Samson, Sean Mahoney, Jamie Rae Walker, Aileen Roehl, Heather McGinley, Michael Novak and Michael Apuzzo. Those sumptuous beauties Parisa Khobdeh and Michelle Fleet were outstanding in their prominent solo passages.

My companion for the evening, choreographer Lydia Johnson, helped me to see this work in a somewhat different light than I had previously, and to understand why the dancers love dancing SPEAKING IN TONGUES.

Seeing Taylor’s ESPLANADE on Balanchine’s stage made for a joyful experience: the two great masters of modern and ballet choreography each turned to the same Bach music and thus ESPLANADE reminds us of CONCERTO BAROCCO, as different as they are in style and setting. And one of my favorite BAROCCO ballerinas, Teresa Reichlen, was sitting a few rows behind us.

In ESPLANADE the sense of dynamism and physical risk play high, and the superb collective of Taylor dancers went at it with unfettered vitality: Amy Young, Laura Halzack, Eran Bugge, Parisa Khobdeh, Jamie Rae Walker, Robert Kleinendorst, Francisco Graciano and George Smallwood all looked smashingly beautiful and grand, and if it was Michelle Fleet who ended up stealing our collective hearts, that too was part of Taylor’s plan. The audience, psyched by the fantastic performance, erupted in a massive ovation when the choreographer appeared onstage for a bow.

March 21, 2013
At Home With Wagner II

More Wagnerian treats have come my way, thanks to Opera Depot and to Dmitry’s generosity in making me copies. I have a ‘new’ (to me) TANNHAUSER, and an Act I of WALKURE, and a complete GOTTERDAMMERUNG to enjoy on these long Winter afternoons.

I played the WALKURE Act I first; it comes (as does the GOTTERDAMMERUNG) from a 1959 Covent Garden RING Cycle conducted by Franz Konwitschny (above). This Cycle does not seem to be readily available in the USA, but it was on special offer at Opera Depot so Dmitry snatched it up since one can never have too many RING Cycles.

Konwitschny opens with a superbly-paced prelude; it’s slightly on the fast side but gives an uncanny feeling of relentless pursuit: Siegmund is the prey and little does he know that he’ll find shelter in the very home of his pursuer. Ramon Vinay, who sang Siegmund in the 1953 Keilberth RING from Bayreuth, sounds more baritonal here – six years later – and tends he to be a bit more declamatory in his approach. Amy Shuard, who was to be Brunnhilde for Solti at Covent Garden in 1965 seems to me better suited to Sieglinde. She has a nice feeling of womanly lyricism in her voice and is especially moving in the passage where she asks Siegmud to stay with her and await Hunding’s return. Later, Shuard scores again with a wonderfully pensive quality at “O still, lass mich der Stimme lauschen!”. She has a few passing moments of flatness in the middle register, and Vinay is taxed by his final “…Walsungen Blut!” But overall they are quite exciting, and Kurt Boehme is a strong. dark-hued Hunding. Some random off-notes from the orchestra; the sound quality is quite good overall.

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Taking a break from the RING, I moved to the 1965 Bayreuth TANNHAUSER. Andre Cluytens gives a well-paced reading of the score, and the sound quality of the recording is more than acceptable. Wolfgang Windgassen, then 50-years-old, takes on the arduous title-role; as he begins to sing there is a sense of strain, but he somehow manages to get the voice in gear and though there are moments when he seems tested, his knowledge of the role and of his instrument manage to sustain him through the first two acts. The strenuous demands of the Rome Narrative sometimes cause the tenor to sound as if he’s at the outer edge of his vocal possibilities, and although he steers thru the music without disaster it’s not pleasant to listen to. The fact that Tannhauser is exhausted and on the brink of madness can serve to cover some of the moments of vocal peril, but in the end it’s not something to listen to more than once.

Leonie Rysanek sings with her usual intensity and command of the upper range, and she uses a broad dynamic palette quite impressively. There are moments when she sounds unstable, notably in the Act III prayer which is taken quite slowly. In 1964, the soprano had had something of a vocal crisis which affected her performances in OTELLO and DON CARLO at The Met. At the end of the 1964-65 season she was gone from the Met for nearly a year (including the very Summer of this Bayreuth TANNHAUSER) and when she returned to New York City she seems to have given up nearly all of her Italian roles (aside from Tosca – though she later took on Medea, Gioconda and Santuzza, but not at The Met). She continued to sing Elisabeth in TANNHAUSER for twenty more years, including a stunning performance in San Francisco in 1973, and an impressive Met broadcast in 1982. This Bayreuth ’65 Elisabeth is perhaps not her finest rendering of the role, but it’s pretty exciting nonetheless.

Ludmila Dvorakova’s huge, over-ripe sound amply fills the role of Venus though her singing will not be to all tastes, and basso Gerd Neinstedt makes a strong impression as Biterolf in the scene of the song contest.

What makes the performance worthwhile are the performances of Martti Talvela (above) as the Landgraf Hermann and Hermann Prey as Wolfram. Talvela is on spectacular form, his commanding voice – marked by just a trace of the vocal ‘whine’ that was something of trademark – is thrilling to hear he welcomes the guests to the Watrburg and sets forth the framework of the contest. It was such a pleasure to hear this voice again.

Hermann Prey (above) as the steadfast Wolfram, who gallantly sets aside his own feelings for Elisabeth in view of her clear preference for Tannhauser, sings with lovely lyricism and expressiveness; a couple of the lowest notes of the Evening Star are a bit of a downward stretch for him, but for tenderness and poetic resonance his is a peerless incarnation of the role. Both Talvela and Prey have voices instantly recognizable, and their contributions to this performance are superb.

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Back to the ’59 Konwitschny Covent Garden RING Cycle for GOTTERDAMMERUNG in which the first voice we hear is that of Marjorie Thomas (above) as the First Norn. I had not been aware of this singer previously, despite her substantial career, and she makes a wonderful impression in thei opening scene of the RING‘s final opera – a scene I greatly enjoy both for its atmosphere and the vocal opportunities afforded the three singers. Her sister-Norns are Monica Sinclair – a mezzo who later joined Joan Sutherland’s touring Company and whose prodigious breath control makes her an unusually interesting Bradamante on the Sutherland recording of ALCINA – and soprano Amy Shaurd, who doubles as Gutrune here and later went on to sing the Brunnhildes.

Wagner legends Astrid Varnay and Wokfgand Windgassen pour their hearts out in the prologue duet. Varnay is a soprano I sometimes find oddly matronly and overblown but here she is in very fine voice, moving from strength to strength as the opera progresses. I hear some similarities between her voice and that of Regina Resnik; does anyone else? Windgassen is unfortunately not at his best in this performance. His voice is unsettled, his phrasing wayward. In this repertoire one has to allow for off-days; it”s just too bad this was a performance being preserved for posterity. Hermann Uhde (Gunter) and Gottlob Frick (Hagen) are simply magnificent, and Shuard is an ample-toned Gutrune, sometimes a shade off pitch.

Ursula Boese (above, with composer Igor Stravinsky) is a rich-toned Waltraute, sometimes putting me in mind of Rita Gorr. Ms. Boese’s voice sometimes takes a moment to tonalize on a given note, giving a slight feeling of pitchiness, but overall she is impressive in her long scene with Varnay.

As Act II begins, the Czech-born baritone Otakar Kraus (above, great photo as Alberich) sings the role of the dwarf who appears to his son Hagen in a dream, singing with mysterious, haunted tone. This sets the stage for one of the most thrilling readings of the cataclysmic events of this singular Wagnerian act that I have heard. If only Mr. Windgassen had been on peak form on this day, we’d have been left with a veritable masterpiece. The tenor does sing powefully and doesn’t shrink for the demands, but moments of strain and rhythmical variances detract a bit from the overall sweep of the act.

Astrid Varnay (above) is simply thrilling in this demanding music; her voice – not so much the timbre but the way she sings – continues to remind me a bit of Resnik. The top is earth-shattering and her expressively dramatic vocal thunderbolts are astounding in their bright, steady power. Along with her 1953 ELEKTRA this is my favorite Varnay recording I’ve heard to date. Gottob Frick is imperterbably sinister and grand as Hagen, and if the notion that Gunther’s undoing could be described as heartbreaking, you hear it magnificently here in Hermann Uhde’s uncanny vocal portrayal.

I’ll confess to skipping over some of the final act, since Windgassen is so out-of-sorts. The Rhinemaidens – led by the girlish-sounding Joan Carlyle singing along with star-in-the-making Josephine Veasey and Marjorie Thomas, who fills out her evening by adding the third Rhinemaiden to her First Norn.

Varnay’s Immolation Scene begins triumphantly. The diva is in huge and secure voice, and her characteristic tendency to sometimes approach a high note from below doesn’t bother me, since she always gets where she’s going eventually. In her deeply felt and lyrical singing of “Wie Sonne lauter strahlt mir sein Licht…” Varnay wins my heart entirely. A bit later though there is a jarring parting of ways between singer and orchestra: Varnay seems absolutely in the right to my ears (not having a score to hand), but a few measures of musical mayhem ensue before things are set to rights. Thereafter traces of fatigue creep into the soprano’s vocalism, but by this time she’s delivered so much marvelous singing that we can’t help but be swept away in admration for her overall performance.

March 21, 2013
Collegiate Chorale: Glass and Golijov

Above: A Toltec star-shield

Wednesday February 27, 2013 – A few minutes into this concert by the Collegiate Chorale, an expression from the 60’s came to me: “Mind-blowing!” The evening, one of the most purely pleasurable I have ever spent in a concert hall, featured two great contemporary works: the Toltec Symphony (#7) of Philip Glass, and OCEANA, a marvel-filled cantata by Osvaldo Golijov. The cumulative sonic effect of this music was like that of a mystical drug: I felt both vividly stimulated and wonderfully relaxed: a paradox, but there it is.

The Glass dates from 2005 when it was commissioned by the National Symphony Orchestra to honor the 60th birthday of conductor Leonard Slatkin. The composer was inspired by the ancient culture of the Toltecs, remnants of which may still be found in Northern Mexico. Like many wise peoples, the Toltecs lived in close harmony with nature; the symphony evokes not only that link but the mysterious harmonies of forgotten rituals.

The term Minimalist doesn’t really apply to Philip Glass; his view of music is in fact panoramic and the Toltec is universes away from Minimalism. It’s a vast and grand piece. The composer’s signature motif of repeated rhythmic patterns is very much in play, but there are layers of sound bulit on that foundation.

The work opens subtly, with harp, maracas and celeste; as the first movement (entitled The Corn) develops, there is a spine-tingling ebb and flow of dynamics and textures from huge tutti passages that pulsate thunderously to trancelike delicacies that float on air. The second movement (The Sacred Root) is a grand choral tapestry, veering in song from seductive sway to hypnotic chant; at one point four singers step forward to deliver a counter-song. The chanting, sustained over timpani, finally dwindles magically into silence.

The symphony’s final movement opens with a chorale of brass and violins into which the woodwinds and harp soon join. At this point there was an annoying late seating which broke the mood of the piece; with only a few minutes of music left, was it really necessary to seat people at that point? Better to have taken a pause between the second and third movements and gotten the stragglers in place before continuing.

Trying to recover my focus, I was intrigued by a passage for harp and strings, interrupted twice by the timpani. The winds join in a grand welling-up only to subside again. A four-square rhythmic, benedictive choral finale develops with halting pauses between segments, inducing an ecstatic feeling. With luminous high-flutes sounding over gently rocking strings, the Toltec vanishes into the mist like a lost civilization.

There was no intermission but rather a longish pause in which the stage was re-set for the Golijov. I’ve recently become fascinated with this composer thanks to hearing his music used by choreographer Lydia Johnson. For OCEANA, the brass and woodwinds leave us as do the percussionists: aside from a quartet of flautists and three musicians playing small percussion instruments, OCEANA is all-strings – including guitars – and singing.

The enigmatic and perfumed poetry of Pablo Neruda (above), from Cantos Ceremonial, gives wing to Osvaldo Golijov’s matchless musical imagination. In this cantata, modeled on Bach, the illusive words of the poet will rise up from the mystic murmurs of harp and guitar and the sounds of the rainforest which open the work.

The sensational Venezuelan vocalist Biella Da Costa (above) revealed a mellow, sultry voice of huge range and capable of entrancing vocal effects woven into her alluring sound. Wow! As the work progressed from one movement to the next, I found myself thinking: “What sonic magic will we experience next?” Between the orchestra, the chorus and the soloist, the ear is constantly seduced while the soul veers madly from the realms of the spiritual to the sensual.

In a splendid aria, the jazzy singer bounces her voice around a big range, joyously carefree in this litling vocalise which percolates over guitar, bass and flutes. Then the chorus takes over, rocking and rolling like a sailing ship on a breezy day. Folkish percussion with harp and guitar tingle as a group of young women from the Manhattan Girls Chorus join in the music-making: wind and waves carry us forward, making me want to dance.

Finally we reach the choral finale: the Oceana chant, a dreamlike invocation, makes us feel like we’re in church. The vision of the sea and the clouds fades like a dream as the music evaporates into a hush.

Conductor James Bagwell (above, in an Erin Baiano photo) is to be praised not only for his steering of the musical ship tonight but for this imaginative and wonderfully satisfying programming. Ms. Da Costa was nothing short of a revelation, and let’s have some special roses for harpist Sara Cutler who played so marvelously all evening.

Osvaldo Golijov susrprisingly joined the singers and musicians onstage during the applause; I’m not sure the audience recognized him though.

OCEANA is available on CD…

…as is Glass’s Toltec Symphony.

February 27, 2013
Score Desk for DON CARLO

Monday February 25th, 2013 – A powerful line-up of male principal singers drew me to this performance of Verdi’s DON CARLO at The Met. The women in the cast seemed less interesting by far; having seen the production before – and feeling no need to see it again – I took a score desk and settled in.

DON CARLO was for years my favorite opera, but then the German repertory began to edge out the Italian in my heart and soul. Now ARIADNE AUF NAXOS, ELEKTRA and DIE WALKURE are in a sort of three-way tie for the top spot. But I still love DON CARLO and always go when it is performed. I’m not crazy about the Fontainebleau scene, and I never watch the Auto da Fe since the sight of people burning other people alive for the greater glory of some fiendish imagined god (or rather, to maintain the power of the men who created him and sustained the myth thru blood and force over the centuries) is revolting.

Negative reviews of Loren Maazel’s conducting and of Barbara Frittoli’s singing as Elisabetta had me thinking in advance that this might be a partial CARLO for me. Added to the prospect of two Gelb-intermissions, and the fact that I was already feeling tired when I got there, it seemed that a very long evening was loooming ahead. But I found myself drawn in by the opera itself, and I always enjoy the experience of being in the House with the score in front of me. I stayed to the end and on the whole felt it was a very good evening, particularly thanks to the superb performances of Dmitry Hvorostovsky and Ferruccio Furlanetto as Posa and Philip II respectively.

To be sure, some of Maestro Maazel’s pacing was slow. To me his conducting registered a measured sense of grandeur and dignity, and of events unfolding with a sort of epic inevitability. Often considered Verdi’s most purple opera – the colour of royalty evoked in sound – I felt Maazel’s concept worked well: there were lively passages along the way, and his Auto da Fe scene was amply majestic and well-structured. For the most part he kept his singers at the forefront; in a few places they needed all their reserves of breath to sustain the line thru the slow tempi. But, following the score, I thought the conductor had things well in hand.

Maazel experienced some boos at his solo bow; I wonder if it was pre-meditated since it seemed to be coming from one area of the Family Circle. Recently while my friend Dmitry and I were having a pre-PARSIFAL supper, I could overhear a woman in the next booth telling her companion that she was planning to boo conductor Daniele Gatti. If she did, it got lost in the cheers. Maazel’s conducting was quirky but worked well to my ears; the only potentially boo-able performance was that of Ms. Frittoli but the audience tolerated her with polite applause.

I find the Fontainebleau scene a needless introduction to the evening. Verdi sanctioned its elimination for performances in Italy following the premiere in Paris where five-act operas were de rigeur. Some people say, “Oh, it gives the opera context!” Undoubtedly. But we lived without it for years, savoring the gloriouly dark horn theme which opens the four-act version and immeditely sets us in the mood for this opera about royalty and religion. Tonight, with Ms. Frittoli sounding very wary, the scene seemed even more expendable than ever. It makes for such a long night, even under the best of circumstances.

The soprano’s perilous performance serves as a reminder that a vocal career is short enough without quickening its demise by singing roles that are too heavy. Ms. Frittoli will be remembered in New York City for her exquisite singing as Desdemona in 1999; she was also a particularly fine Mimi, and as recently as 2005 she managed an impressive Fiordiligi by manipulating the dynamics to control the effects of a widening vibrato. But singing things like the Verdi REQUIEM and Donna Anna have taken their toll on her lyric instrument. Tonight the vibrato was painfully evident even at the piano level. She managed to avert disasters, though a high B-flat in the quartet was scary and she could not sustain the floated B-natural in the final duet, on “…il sospirato ben”, one of the role’s most affecting moments. Overall it was sad to experience this voice in its current state. The news that she’ll be singing Tosca later this year in Europe does not bode well.

These performances of Elisabetta were originallly slated for Sondra Radvanovsky; when Sondra moved to BALLO instead, the Met turned to Ms. Frittoli. They should have cast about for a more appropriate alternative. When I think of the wonderful Elisabettas I have experienced – Caballe, Kabaivanska, Freni, and Radvanovsky as well as Marina Mescheriakova’s flawless Met debut in the role – Ms. Frittoli’s pales into a haze.

Anna Smirnova’s voice does not always fall pleasantly on the ear, being rather metallic. But she is a skilled singer who managed the filagree of the Veil Song very well and pulled out all the stops for an exciting “O don fatale” with brazenly sustained high notes.

Don Carlo is a bit heavy for Ramon Vargas but this very likeable tenor sang quite beautifully through most of the evening. His voice is clear and plaintive, his singing stylish and persuasive. Only near the end of the opera did a few signs of tiredness manifest themselves. His delicious singing of “Qual voce a me del ciel scende a parlar d’amore?” in the love duet was a high point of the evening.

Eric Halvarson’s Inquisitor was powerully sung and stood up convincingy against the overwhelming Philip II of Ferruccio Furlanetto. The two bassos had a field day, trading thunderbolts in their great confrontation. Basso Miklos Sebestyen was a very impressive Friar (the Ghost of Charles V), drawing a round of applause fo his sustained low F-sharp in the St. Juste scene of Act I. Jennifer Holloway was a very fine Tebaldo but Lori Guilbeau, who has a pretty sound, seemed not to be well-coordinated with the pit as she sang her offstage lines as the Celestial Voice.

The towering magnificence of Dmitry Hvorostovsky‘s Posa and Ferruccio Furlanetto‘s Philip II put the performance on a level with the greatest Verdi experiences of my opera-going years. Dima’s singing was velvety and suave, his breath-control mind-boggling, his singing affecting, elegant and passionate by turns. His high notes were finely managed and marvelously sustained.

Mr. Furlanetto’s glorious singing is a throwback to the days when great Italian voices in every category rang thru the opera houses of the world. Now nearing his fortieth year of delivering generous, glorious vocalism, the basso’s dark and brooding tones fill The Met with a special sonic thrill. His singing, so rich and deeply-felt, can thunder forth at one moment and then draw us in with hushed, anguished introspection the next. From first note to last, Furlanetto’s Philip II was simply stunning. His hauntingly tender musing on the phrase “No…she never loved me…her heart was never mine…” just before the epic climax of his great monolog moved me to tears.

There were huge eruptions of applause and cheers after both the baritone and the basso finished their big arias; but applause nowadays tends to dwindle rather quickly and the days of show-stopping aria ovations are largely a thing of the past.

There were lots of empty seats which surprised me: with this starry assembly of male singers and the season’s biggest name from the conducting roster involved, I expected a fuller house.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky

Ferruccio Furlanetto

Metropolitan Opera House February 25, 2013
DON CARLO Giuseppe Verdi Don Carlo...............Ramón Vargas Elizabeth of Valois.....Barbara Frittoli Rodrigo.................Dmitri Hvorostovsky Princess Eboli..........Anna Smirnova Philip II...............Ferruccio Furlanetto Grand Inquisitor........Eric Halfvarson Priest Inquisitor.......Maxime de Toledo Celestial Voice.........Lori Guilbeau Friar...................Miklós Sebestyén Tebaldo................ Jennifer Holloway Count of Lerma..........Eduardo Valdes Countess of Aremberg....Anna Dyas Flemish Deputy..........Alexey Lavrov Flemish Deputy..........Paul Corona Flemish Deputy..........Eric Jordan Flemish Deputy..........Evan Hughes Flemish Deputy..........Joshua Benaim Flemish Deputy......... David Crawford
Conductor...............Lorin Maazel

February 25, 2013
Edwaard Liang: Artistic Director @ BalletMet

It’s a great pleasure to share the announcement that Edwaard Liang (above) will assume the position of Artistic Director of BalletMet in Columbus, Ohio starting in July 2013.

Edwaard danced at New York City Ballet from 1993 til 2007, taking a break for a couple of years (starting 2001) to dance in FOSSE on Broadway. I interviewed Edwaard in 2007 when he was dancing with and choreographing for MORPHOSES: The Wheeldon Company.

In August 2009, Kokyat photographed Edwaard and NYC Ballet principal ballerina Maria Kowroski dancing a pas de deux from Wheeldon’s FOOL’S PARADISE in Central Park: an unforgettable experience. Not long after, Edwaard stopped dancing and began to concentrate all his energies on choreography.

Please join me in wishing Edwaard all the best at BalletMet!

February 25, 2013
Martha Graham: Myth & Transformation II

Above: Tadej Brdnik and Blakeley White-McGuire in Martha Graham’s PHAEDRA. Photo: Costas.

Sunday matinee February 24th, 2013 – The Martha Graham Dance Company continue their season at The Joyce with a striking double bill: Graham’s PHAEDRA (not performed for a decade) and the Company’s premiere performances of Richard Move’s THE SHOW (Achilles Heels).

I had had the good fortune to see a studio rehearsal of PHAEDRA in October; and more recently, I had a sneak peek at a segment of THE GAME at a private showing. Finally today I got to see these two sharply contrasted works in their full glory, and I brought my friend Joe along who was having his first experience of Graham. It was a great afternoon.

In PHAEDRA, Robert Starer’s score propels the dancers as they move amidst the Noguchi-designed set pieces. This story of forbidden love – Phaedra becomes obsessed with her young step-son Hippolytus – caused the threat of a Congressional censure when it was first performed in 1962, so wildly did it offend the government’s guardians of morality. It seems far less shocking today, but still potent thanks to the remarkable performances of Blakeley White-McGuire as Phaedra, Maurizio Nardi as Hippolytus and Tadej Brdnik as Theseus. Ms. Blakeley-White is riveting to watch as she regsters the spectrum of Phaedra’s emotions: lust, tenderness, remorse, guilt. Blakeley’s body was made to dance Graham: from her expressive hands and gorgeous torsol contractions to her marvelously ‘wrapped’ feet, she makes her entire physique a vessel of communicative grace. Maurizio Nardi has the enviable combination of the sleek, smooth body to make him a believable youth with the artistic maturity to give the character of Hippolytus depth. Tadej Brdnik handsome face and strikingly muscled frame are grandly invested in his portrayal of Theseus; the only “problem” being that Tadej looks too young to be the father of a grown son.

The beauteous Mariya Dashkina Maddux as Artemis holds a statue-like pose for minutes on end without moving a centimeter. She later bursts free, dancing dynamically whilst firing off her arrows. Xiaochuan Xie as Aphrodite emerged and retreated from her pink-cloud cocoon to meddle in the fates of the muddled mortals: her enchanting performance pleased the audience greatly. Equally lovely but playing a darker role, PeiJu Chen Potts danced Parsiphea’s solo superbly; of her character (Phaedra’s mother) Ovid memorably said: “Pasiphaë took pleasure in becoming an adulteress with a bull.” The men of the Graham Company looked great in their decorative briefs; their ensemble dance was powerful and they wove thru the action in smaller roles, always drawing the eye with their physical attributes.

THE SHOW (Achilles Heels) is Richard Move’s send-up of the story of the end of the Trojan War. The expected characters appear but not always as we might imagine them. A pre-recorded narrative (featuring the voices of Mikhail Baryshnikov and Deborah Harry) is lip-synced by the dancers. In this pan-sexual ballet, men wear stiletto heels and women speak in baritonal voices. Achilles, vain and unspeakably beautiful, is ideally personified by the boyishly cocky Lloyd Mayor. As a paragon of male perfection, he’s matched by his mythic love Patroclus in the person of Abdiel Jacobsen: their intmate post-workout duet is ideally handled by Mr. Move: it borders on the erotic but keeps us tantalized.

Katherine Crockett as Helen of Troy makes the face (and form) that launched a thousand ships totally believable, her majestic figure and queenly extension entice us at her every move. Blakeley White-McGuire revels in the theatricality of playing a game-show hostess who just happens to be the goddess Athena. She also joins Mariya Dashkina Maddux and Natasha Diamond-Walker as a Andrews Sisters-like trio of commentators. Ms. Diamond-Walker’s topless solo as Xanthus (Achilles’ horse) was so artfully managed that her nudity transcended mere decorativeness. Tadej Brdnik appeared in different guises as the ballet unfolds, and Ben Schultz always drew our gaze with his godlike presence – and he should feel free to uncover his wonderful tattoos.

THE GAME weaves songs by Deborah Harry – notably “Beautiful Creature” which certainly is apt for Mr. Mayor’s Achilles – into a composed score by Arto Lindsay. Today the music seemed just a little too loud to be ideally savoured. The opening segment of moody darkish dancing (though finely executed) seems rather too long: let’s get into the narrative! And later there are places which might be pruned down to the overall advantage of the work. But the concept is novel and it really does work. For all the game-show glitz and zany juxtaposition of voices to characters, there are also wonderfully moving moments, most notably the death of Patroclus with its fluttering dove. The Graham dancers gave the piece their all.

February 24, 2013