Category: Opera

FLIEGENDE HOLLANDER ~ NYCO 1977

Above: Guillermo Sarabia as the Dutchman

Audio-only performance of Wagner’s Der Fliegende Holländer performed at The New York City Opera in 1977, conducted by Julius Rudel, with the following cast:

Holländer – Guillermo Sarabia
Senta – Johanna Meier
Daland – Ara Berberian
Erik – Richard Taylor
Mary – Diane Curry
Steuermann – Jerold Siena

Listen here.

Ms. Meier, Ms. Curry, and Mr. Berberian were all great favorites of mine, and I saw Mr. Sarabia’s Dutchman twice: once in Houston and later in Springfield, Massachusetts. Mr. Siena sings the Steersman beautifully.

April 27, 2023
Graham Classics + New Works ~ 2023

Above: from Annie Rigney’s new work for the Martha Graham Dance Company, GET UP, MY DAUGHTER

Sunday April 23rd, 2023 matinee – Two Graham masterpieces and two recently-premiered works new to the Graham Company repertoire held the stage at the Joyce Theater this afternoon.

DARK MEADOW SUITE, one of Graham’s most beautiful works (with an equally beautiful Carlos Chávez score) opened the performance. At curtain-rise, the women are posed like icons, with Anne Souder slightly removed from the others. They begin stamping their feet. A plaintive violin theme is heard, joined by the cello. The women move with classic Graham steps and gestures; Ms. Souder is simply sublime.

Now Lloyd Knight (above) appears, striking poses in a spellbinding opening solo which develops into a stage-filling dance. Ms. Souder joins him for a duet in which an electric current seems to pass between them; their intimate partnering is at once sensual and ritualistic.

The kneeling men hold the women in a uniquely lovely leaning, questing pose, symbolic of seeking or longing; Ms. Souder and Mr. Knight continue to reign in duet and solo phrases: unbearably tender and heartfelt.

Aside from the principal couple, the cast for MEADOW today featured Leslie Andrea Williams, Laurel Dalley Smith, Marzia Memoli, Devin Loh, Kate Reyes, Jacob Larsen, Richard Villaverde, and new-to-Graham James Anthony.

Above: Marzia Memoli and So Young An in Annie Rigney’s GET UP, MY DAUGHTER; photo by Steven Pisano

Ms. Rigney’s debut piece for Graham opened earlier in the week. It is a harrowing work, set to a thrilling score by Marco Rosano which incorporates Bulgarian folk music with original themes by the composer, and with stunning lighting by Yi Chung-Chen. It tells a story similar to one that I heard long ago from my high-school girlfriend.

A quartet of young women in satiny frocks – So Young An, Anne O’Donnell, Anne Souder, and Marzia Memoli – dance together to chanted harmonies. They seem wary, full of angst and longing.

Above, in a Melissa Sherwood photo: Richard Villaverde makes a disturbingly powerful impression as the man of the house, who singles out So Young An as his partner of the moment in a dramatic duet of control, resistance, and resignation. The music is solemn, with the haunting voice of the great counter-tenor Andreas Scholl bringing a timeless feel.

Ying Xin joins the sisterhood, who have apparently been drugged into near stupor; while heavenly harmonies are heard, they seem to plan an escape but lack the strength to attempt it. The organ joins the musical soundscape, lending a curiously religious air. Mr. Villaverde returns; the women tremble in fear. Drums thunder forth, and the piece ends suddenly.

Above: Ying Xin, Marzia Memoli, and So Young An in GET UP, MY DAUGHTER; photo by Steve Pisano

Why this work affected me so deeply lies in recalling my girlfriend’s experience, of which I was unaware at the time. For three years, her father routinely raped her, her two older sisters, and her younger brother. I was aware of the extreme tension she endured living in a home with a drunken father, but I never knew about the sexual side of it until a few years later, after she had escaped and moved to Washington DC. I only knew how she clung to me in our tender, juvenile – but curiously “knowing” – love-making. Her father eventually blew his brains out.

Above: from CORTEGE 2023, with Ruchard Villaverde kneeling; photo by Steve Pisano

Equally thought-provoking this afternoon was the second darkly powerful new work, CORTEGE 2023, set to a score by Aidan Elias and choreographed by Baye & Asa. This piece spoke of the dangerous world in which we now live: scenes of violence, torture, and isolation alternate with depictions of mourning and consolation.

Chimes sound at curtain-rise as a diagonal of dancers are seen covered by a shroud, which is slowly pulled away as the dancing starts. The lighting (again by Yi-Chung Chen) flashingly isolates various tableaux of people under duress: prisoners, the interrogated, the isolated, the bereaved.

Lloyd Knight’s solo (above photo by Melissa Sherwood), set to sinister music, is riveting. Rhythmic variety, and ritualistic acts, carry the piece eerily forward. Anne O’Donnell’s solo is so expressive, and James Anthony has an opportunity to shine.

Above: Lorenzo Pagano and the ensemble; photo by Steve Pisano

Violence has become a fact of life, as indicated by a cataclysmic buildup of brass in the score. An animated quartet become a hypnotic sextet: the movement is non-stop. Deep chords invoke feelings of doom; and then, as silence falls, the vast shroud is used as a cover-up.

The afternoon ended with a spectacular performance of Martha Graham’s take on the Medea story: CAVE OF THE HEART. The Metropolitan Opera’s 2022-2023 season opened with the Met’s first-ever performance of Cherubini’s MEDEA starring the inimitable Sondra Radvanovsky, so the story is fresh in the memory.

Leslie Andrea Williams (above, in a Melissa Sherwood photo) radiated her distinctive star-power in a performance that brought the character’s double personality – abandoned lover and conniving sorceress – vividly to life. When she is not doing, she is always thinking; Leslie’s expressive face, and her eyes – ever scanning the scene for what damage she can do – are as vital to her playing of the role as her dancing.

Laurel Dalley Smith (photo above by Melissa Sherwood) gave a dazzling performance as the naive bride, basking in Jason’s attentive courting, unaware of the doom that awaits her.

Lorenzo Pagano as the proud Jason, looking to be King of Corinth whilst scorning the woman who made it all possible, pays the cost of his betrayal. His earlier show of pride, taunting Medea with his worshipful wooing of the young princess, plunges him headlong into disaster. (Photo above by Melissa Sherwood).

Presiding overall, and striving in vain to prevent the ultimate catastrophe, the marvelous Natasha S. Diamond-Walker – a Graham goddess if ever there was one – conveyed both the dignity and the anxiety of the all-knowing Chorus in perfect measure. (Photo above by Melissa Sherwood).

It surprises me that Martha Graham did not bring the children of Medea and Jason into her telling of the story. The two young boys are a key element in the Cherubini opera, wherein Medea surpasses the cruelty of murdering Jason’s betrothed by knifing the youths. She flings their bloody corpses at Jason’s feet; aghast, he asks her: “What was their crime??” to which she calmly replies: “They were your children…”

Following the performance, I went downstairs to greet and thank the dancers, and was thrilled to see again – after waaaay too long – two of my Graham idols, Blakeley McGuire and Carrie Ellmore-Tallitsch.

~ Oberon

April 23, 2023
Ralph Vaughan Williams ~ A SEA SYMPHONY

Above: Ralph Vaughan Williams

Author: Oberon

Friday April 21st, 2023 – The Choral Society and Orchestra of Grace Church presenting a performance of Ralph Vaughan Williams’s A SEA SYMPHONY, conducted by John Maclay, with soloists Tami Petty (soprano) and Hadleigh Adams (baritone).

Vaughan Williams selected for the first three movements of A SEA SYMPHONY three poems from Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass. The symphony’s first two movements are entitled “A Song for All Seas, All Men” and “On the Beach at Night Alone.” The third movement, called in the symphony “The Waves“, is Whitman’s poem in the same series entitled “After the Sea Ship.” For the fourth and longest movement, entitled “The Explorers“, the composer chose lines from widely scattered excerpts of another lengthy sub-section of Leaves of Grass entitled “Passage to India.”

In all four movements, the composer tightened up the poetry to best serve his musical vision of the boundless sea. From the first brass fanfare proclaiming the words “Behold the Sea!” to the mystical choral invocation of a “…vast rondure, swimming in space“, words and music align to depict both the epic grandeur and the meditative power of the planet’s oceans.

This evening was very frustrating for me, as I have waited years to hear this work performed live. The audience included many people who brought small children, and of course, two such youngsters were seated directly in front of us. After being reasonably well behaved during the first movement, they became fidgety and restless. The parents basically ignored their antics, especially during the long final movement. My companion and I were exasperated by the situation: yet another case of the triumph of people who don’t care over people who do.

Musically, the evening got off to an uneven start. The balance between the orchestra, the huge chorus, and the soloists was off; the blend became mushy and most of the words were incomprehensible. The symphony’s great opening movement therefore went for nought. Things improved greatly during the second and most haunting movement, “On the Beach at Night Alone” and the ensuing scherzo, “The Waves“, was well done. In the over-long final movement, the composer seems to have been unable to decide how to end the piece: he would periodically venture into a cul de sac, delaying the inevitable.

The evening’s soloists are both possessed of fine voices. Baritone Hadleigh Adams was sometimes overwhelmed by the orchestra in the opening movement, but that is the conductor’s fault. Mr. Adams came into his own with a wonderful rendering of “On the Beach at Night Alone” where his expressive singing and fine timbre could be deeply enjoyed. An eloquent passage for solo cello enhanced the singing, making this the highlight of the evening.

Soprano Tami Petty has a clear, sweet voice that blooms as it ascends; in this regard, she reminded me of Helena Dix, the Australian soprano who sang Norma at The Met earlier this year. Ms. Petty sounded truly lovely in the big Hall, making me hope she’ll have a go at the Verdi REQUIEM here someday soon.

Above, bowing during the massive standing ovation at the concert’s end, are Ms. Petty, Maestro Maclay, and Mr. Adams; photo by Brian Hatton.

I don’t anticipate another opportunity to hear A SEA SYMPHONY here in New York City again in my lifetime, but I have the marvelous Grammy Award-winning Telarc CD of it with the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Chorus, conducted by Robert Spano, and wonderful soloists Christine Goerke and Brett Polegato that I can turn to.

~ Oberon

April 21, 2023
Arensky & Brahms @ Chamber Music Society

Above: violinist Bella Hristova, photographed by Lisa-Marie Mazzucco

Author: Oberon

Tuesday March 28th, 2023 – Works by Anton Arensky and Johannes Brahms were on the bill at Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center this evening as violinist Bella Hristova, cellist Dmitri Atapine, and pianists Wu Qian and Wu Han teamed up for some magical music-making.

The concert commenced with Arensky’s Six Children’s Pieces for Piano, Four Hands, Op. 34, composed in 1894. These charming miniatures found our two pianists side by side at the Steinway, with Wu Han presiding over the upper octaves and Wu Qian the lower.

To give the pieces their English titles, we start with Fairy Tale which begins in the minor key, has a folkish feeling, and then becomes quite dramatic. Wu Han plays a series of decorative trills as the music ranges from hesitant to animated. Then, Wu Qian plays the familiar two-note birdcall that signals the delightful Cuckoo bird is nearby. This is a sprightly little piece with a subtle finish. The mood changes for Tears, which has the feel of a lament, with a deep bass line supporting a hymn-like melody. The ending is very quiet.

Rippling motifs underscore the lovely Waltz, which gets quite bouncy. A passing reverie turns expansive before fading away, as if the dance was continuing in another room. Cradle Song appropriately has a slow, rocking feeling; the melody is that of a gentle lullaby. The concluding Fugue on a Russian Theme is tuneful and jovial. The music turns grand, and the two pianists have a grand time playing it.

Listening to Bella Hristova and Dmitri Atapine (above), joined by Wu Qian, play the Arensky Trio No. 1 in D -minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 32, makes one wonder why we don’t hear more of this composer’s gorgeous music. He wrote copiously for solo piano, and numerous chamber works as well. And why cannot we hear more of his large orchestral works – which include two symphonies – or his choral pieces? He also wrote three operas, which must be wonderful to experience.

At any rate, we must be thankful for any opportunity to hear the music of this pupil of Tchaikovsky, especially when it as a luminously played as this evening. The introductory theme of the opening Allegro moderato, first played by Ms. Hristova and then taken up by Mr. Atapine, is hauntingly beautiful. These virtuosos bring such richness of timbre to everything they play, and this trio – a veritable font of melody – affords them so many opportunities.

It is restless, passionate music, interrupted by a Springlike interlude in which Wu Qian spins lovely swirling passages from the Steinway. Now a sense of drama takes hold; the opening theme recurs, played – if it’s possible to imagine – even more thrillingly. There is a coda full of lyrical grace before the movement ends quietly.

The ensuing Scherzo opens with an odd, stuttering quality. There are crisp plucking and jaunty melodies to be savoured, whilst at the keyboard Wu Qian offers cascades of notes decorated with lively trills. Now a swaying feeling takes over, and the music gets grand. After a brief hesitation, the stuttering resumes and the Scherzo comes to its whimsical finish.

The evocative Elegia is the heart of the trio: Mr. Atapine opens with a pensive theme, then the string voices entwine as Wi Qian introduces poetic phrases from the keyboard. The music seems to evoke the memory of a lost love as the gently rocking strings sound over the quiet rapture evoked by the pianist. Ms. Hristova in her high range, the pianist pulsing quietly, and Mr. Atapine plucking ever so gently give the music an ethereal quality. Ms. Hristova takes up an autumnal melody as Mr. Atapine’s deep resonance sounds and the music fades away on a sustained chord.

A reverential silence filled the hall, and then the agitated drama of the final Allegro non troppo sprang up. Things cool off, melodic phrases are exchanged, but then restlessness builds and the music becomes impassioned. From a sudden silence, Wu Qian’s shimmering notes are heard as the strings sing softly. The music ascends, and becomes reflective with the poignant violin and the soulful cello sounding. Then, out of the blue, a bustling rush to the finish line springs up.

The music of Johannes Brahms took the limelight after the interval: our two pianists returned for selections from the composer’s Hungarian Dances for Piano, Four Hands; Wu Qian was now playing the upper range and Wu Han the lower. These delightful pieces were written between 1868 and 1880, and they are chock full of rhythmic and melodic variety, spiced with a dose of paprika. The two women seemed to be having a blast playing them, much to the audience’s delight.

Bringing the evening to its close, Wu Han, Ms. Hristova, and Mr. Atapine illuminated the Brahms Trio in C-major Op. 87, with sumptuous playing.

In the opening Allegro, a unison theme for violin and cello develops int something big ad thrilling. When cal finally settles in, a sense of yearning is felt. The textures created by the three players are rich indeed, each displaying alluring tone that meshes into a persuasive whole. Epic grandeur develops as we relish Wu Han’s superbly polished playing, which takes the movement to a royal finish.

Unison strings again herald the Andante con moto: a theme with five variations. The music takes on a gypsy air, reflecting Brahms’ interest in Hungarian music, which began in his youth. Here the blend achieved by our three artists was nothing short of remarkable, continually drawing me in to the music, which reaches a touching, quiet ending.

In the brisk Scherzo, I sensed a Mendelssohnian enchantment. Lush melodies sprang up, and there’s a songful outpouring before a feeling of Puck lurking about returned at the music’s sudden stop.

From its opening agitato, the concluding Allegro giocoso brings an abundance of delicious melodic and rhythmical treats, and the Mendelssohn mood continued to be felt. The musicians were warmly cheered as they took their bows, and I simply must mention Ms. Hristova’s bejeweled shoes, which added an extra sparkle to an already brilliant evening.

~ Oberon

March 28, 2023
25 Years in Gotham

Above: 118 Perry Street, my first NYC home; the building has been painted since we lived there

March 28th, 2023 – Today marks the 25th anniversary of my move to New York City; after spending 22 years in Hartford, working at a thankless job with a bunch of wonderful people, I was ready to achieve my long-held goal of being a New Yorker before my 50th birthday.

Within two weeks of arriving in The City, I met Wei (above)…and I started a job in the opera room at Tower Records. My friends Paul and Tom had rented me their studio on Perry Street, and Wei and I were very cozy there for five years – a time period that included the 9/11 terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. I’ll never forget that morning, and rushing down to the street to see smoke pouring out of the Tower.

My friend Richard (above) came down often during those years. and continued to do so until his untimely death in 2016.

In 2003, Paul and Tom wanted their studio back, so Wei and I moved up to inwood. After a few weeks of feeling disoriented, I came to love it up here. Now, as the third act of my life/opera draws to a close, I keep wondering what the fourth act has in store for me. My friend Dmitry says, “The fourth act is the ballet!”

March 27, 2023
Bach’s Matthäus-Passion @ The NY Philharmonic

Author: Ben Weaver

Saturday March 25th, 2023 – J.S. Bach’s Matthäus-Passion, composed around 1724-27 (and revised through 1742), is arguably Bach’s greatest composition. Personally, I’d place it in the top ten greatest works of Western music. The NY Philharmonic performs it infrequently; the last time was in 2008 under the baton of Kurt Masur. Running at roughly 2:45 hours, the Matthäus-Passion is a work filled with passion and drama…more drama than most church music. Anyone mocking Verdi’s Requiem as being more opera than mass perhaps should take a closer look Bach’s greatest work. Verdi was following in Bach’s mighty footsteps. I was very glad to see it on the program this year, finally! I quite literally got chills as the work started and the chorus (Musica Sacra) sang the opening words: “Kommt, ihr Töchter, helft mir klagen.” Alas, the thrills did not last; I was sadly disappointed with tonight’s performance.

Tenor Nicholas Phan sang the very difficult part of the Evangelist, who narrates the story of Jesus’ arrest, the debate over what his fate should be, his execution, and its immediate aftermath (the Passion ends before the resurrection.) Much of the drama of the work flows through the Evangelist’s words. Mr. Phan managed the difficult music very admirably, but the part can be a trap dramatically: there are many proclamations like “And Jesus said unto him.” How does one make each one sound fresh? I don’t have a clear answer. I suppose if it was easy, anyone would be able to do it.

Bass-baritone Davóne Tines’ Jesus (Mr. Tines was the only person on stage wearing a costume: a white, sleeveless robe) possesses a large voice; but it’s a voice with a guttural quality, which seldom opens or blooms.

Mezzo-soprano Tamara Mumford, a favorite at the Metropolitan Opera across the Plaza, sang nicely. “Buß und Reu” in Part I was vocally steady and clear. But in Part II, Maestro Jaap van Zweden robbed Ms. Mumford and concertmaster Frank Huang of an opportunity to give their all in “Erbarme dich”, perhaps the Passion’s most famous aria; certainly its most emotional and devastating piece. Written for solo voice, solo violin, and orchestra, this breathtaking music has the ability to stop time. Alas, Maestro van Zweden took it at a preposterous Allegro tempo; he absolutely wrecked it by turning it into a cabaletta. If your tempo is faster than John Eliot Gardiner’s, Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s, Trevor Pinnock’s, and Gustav Leonhard’s – you may consider looking at the score again.

Soprano Amanda Forsythe (above), making her Philharmonic subscription concert debut with these performances, was sublime. Her ability to float pianissimi high notes was indeed spine-tingling. The aria “Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben,” which also includes a flute solo by Robert Langevin, was the highlight of the evening.

The Philharmonic’s Principal Associate Concertmaster, Sheryl Staples, had a chance to shine in “Gebt mir meinen Jesum wieder,” with a difficult solo. Unfortunately, bass Philippe Sly, making his Philharmonic debut with these performances, had pitch difficulties which offset Ms. Staples fine playing. Tenor Paul Appleby was superb all evening, the high tessitura of the aria “Geduld” presenting no difficulties for him.

The Choral group Musica Sacra was in excellent form all evening, from the Chorales to dramatic exchanges representing specific characters. The Brooklyn Youth Chorus sang the opening and closing choruses of Part I, but did not return for Part II. Can’t say if that was intentional or if something kept them from returning.

I do hope the Matthäus-Passion returns to the Philharmonic again soon – under a more caring conductor.

~ Ben Weaver

March 27, 2023
Bach’s Matthäus-Passion @ The NY Philharmonic

Author: Ben Weaver

Saturday March 25th, 2023 – J.S. Bach’s Matthäus-Passion, composed around 1724-27 (and revised through 1742), is arguably Bach’s greatest composition. Personally, I’d place it in the top ten greatest works of Western music. The NY Philharmonic performs it infrequently; the last time was in 2008 under the baton of Kurt Masur. Running at roughly 2:45 hours, the Matthäus-Passion is a work filled with passion and drama…more drama than most church music. Anyone mocking Verdi’s Requiem as being more opera than mass perhaps should take a closer look Bach’s greatest work. Verdi was following in Bach’s mighty footsteps. I was very glad to see it on the program this year, finally! I quite literally got chills as the work started and the chorus (Musica Sacra) sang the opening words: “Kommt, ihr Töchter, helft mir klagen.” Alas, the thrills did not last; I was sadly disappointed with tonight’s performance.

Tenor Nicholas Phan sang the very difficult part of the Evangelist, who narrates the story of Jesus’ arrest, the debate over what his fate should be, his execution, and its immediate aftermath (the Passion ends before the resurrection.) Much of the drama of the work flows through the Evangelist’s words. Mr. Phan managed the difficult music very admirably, but the part can be a trap dramatically: there are many proclamations like “And Jesus said unto him.” How does one make each one sound fresh? I don’t have a clear answer. I suppose if it was easy, anyone would be able to do it.

Bass-baritone Davóne Tines’ Jesus (Mr. Tines was the only person on stage wearing a costume: a white, sleeveless robe) possesses a large voice; but it’s a voice with a guttural quality, which seldom opens or blooms.

Mezzo-soprano Tamara Mumford, a favorite at the Metropolitan Opera across the Plaza, sang nicely. “Buß und Reu” in Part I was vocally steady and clear. But in Part II, Maestro Jaap van Zweden robbed Ms. Mumford and concertmaster Frank Huang of an opportunity to give their all in “Erbarme dich”, perhaps the Passion’s most famous aria; certainly its most emotional and devastating piece. Written for solo voice, solo violin, and orchestra, this breathtaking music has the ability to stop time. Alas, Maestro van Zweden took it at a preposterous Allegro tempo; he absolutely wrecked it by turning it into a cabaletta. If your tempo is faster than John Eliot Gardiner’s, Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s, Trevor Pinnock’s, and Gustav Leonhard’s – you may consider looking at the score again.

Soprano Amanda Forsythe (above), making her Philharmonic subscription concert debut with these performances, was sublime. Her ability to float pianissimi high notes was indeed spine-tingling. The aria “Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben,” which also includes a flute solo by Robert Langevin, was the highlight of the evening.

The Philharmonic’s Principal Associate Concertmaster, Sheryl Staples, had a chance to shine in “Gebt mir meinen Jesum wieder,” with a difficult solo. Unfortunately, bass Philippe Sly, making his Philharmonic debut with these performances, had pitch difficulties which offset Ms. Staples fine playing. Tenor Paul Appleby was superb all evening, the high tessitura of the aria “Geduld” presenting no difficulties for him.

The Choral group Musica Sacra was in excellent form all evening, from the Chorales to dramatic exchanges representing specific characters. The Brooklyn Youth Chorus sang the opening and closing choruses of Part I, but did not return for Part II. Can’t say if that was intentional or if something kept them from returning.

I do hope the Matthäus-Passion returns to the Philharmonic again soon – under a more caring conductor.

~ Ben Weaver

March 26, 2023
Helena Dix in Bellini’s NORMA @ The Met

Above: Helena Dix, costumed as Norma, in her Met dressing room; I borrowed this image from the soprano’s Facebook page

Author: Oberon

Saturday March 25th, 2023 matinee – The three great peaks of the bel canto repertoire are – for me – Donizetti’s LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, Rossini’s SEMIRAMIDE, and Bellini’s NORMA. This afternoon I was at The Met to see the season’s final performance of the Bellini. The casting of Sonya Yoncheva in the title-role turned out to be pretty controversial, and the soprano took to social media to complain that people were comparing her Norma to recordings and remembered performances from decades ago.

I guess she is unaware that this has always been a favorite pastime of serious opera-lovers…something that I learned early on in my opera-going career. Examples: during the enormous ovation after the Mad Scene of Beverly Sllls’ first New York Lucia, Maria Grimaldi waltzed up behind me and growled in my ear: “Not as good as Lily Pons!”. And while I was yelling “brava” at the Met for Birgit Nilsson’s 1971 Isolde triumph, the fellow next to me, who was applauding feebly, said: “I guess you are too young to have heard Flagstad!”

Anyway, the problem became moot when Ms. Yoncheva (who was wonderful as Giordano’s Fedora earlier this season) took ill and withdrew from the final three NORMAs, one by one. Angela Meade was called in for the first Yoncheva cancellation, and the cover – Helena Dix – stepped in for the second. Everyone was waiting to see if Yoncheva would come back with a vengeance for today’s final NORMA, which was being broadcast.

In truth, I was hoping for a cast change, and that Ms. Dix would be singing today. I’d started following the plucky Aussie soprano on Facebook a few weeks ago when I began to see her postings about what it’s like to cover a major role at The Met. She had covered Norma here in 2017, and had also covered Alice Ford in FALSTAFF in 2019, going on at one performance for her Met debut.

This year, as it happened, she ended up singing quite a few of the NORMA rehearsals. But Ms. Yoncheva sang the prima, and the next two performances. When she became ill, Peter Gelb applied his frequent tactic: he located a “star” to step in rather than relying on the cover. Thus, Ms. Meade returned to a production in which she has previously appeared.

This morning, as I was getting ready to leave for the noontime matinee, an e-mail from a soprano/friend of mine popped up: “Helena Dix is singing Norma today!” This elevated my mood considerably.

The house was nearly full as Maurizio Benini took his place on the podium. Benini has frustrated me in the past with his eccentric tempi in operas like LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, MARIA STUARDA, and MANON. As the afternoon progressed, he upheld his reputation as a routinier.

Christian van Horn as Oroveso was simply superb in the opera’s opening scene, and he remained so throughout the afternoon: a potent vocal force and an imposing stage figure. His “Ah, del Tebro” later in the evening was gorgeously sung, and his shock at Norma’s revelation of her motherhood was a lightning bolt. Together with Ms. Dix and Mr. Spyres, Mr. van Horn made the opera’s poignantly dramatic finale, “Deh! Non volerli vittime…” heart-rendingly moving.

Meanwhile, back in Act I, as the Druids withdraw from the forest clearing, the Romans appear: Michael Spyres as Pollione and Yongzhao Yu as Flavio. The latter showed a fine voice and was an alert actor, whilst Mr. Spyres – a marvelous Met Idomeneo earlier this season – was sounding more baritonal today. The Spyres voice has great immediacy and, despite a hoarse high-C in “Meco all’ altar di Venere” his singing and dramatic engagement (all afternoon, really) was a potent experience. The tenor was having a rousing go at the cabaletta “Me protegge, me difende“, reaching the final phrase with a penultimate A-flat which he then elevated to the more customary B-flat, at which moment Benini decided to amp up the orchestra, ruining the effect.

When Ekaterina Gubanova was announced as Adalgisa, I admit I had misgivings; her Act II Brangaene at Geffen Hall at 2019 showed some unease in the music’s upper reaches, and Adalgisa is quite demanding in that regard. But Ms. Gubanova seemed today to have solved (for the most part) that problem. She was wonderfully expressive in her opening monologue, and she matched Mr. Spyres in passion and tonal appeal in their long duet where Adalgisa finally succumbs to Pollione’s pleadings.

The opera’s sixth character, Norma’s confidante Clothilde, was the excellent Brittany Olivia Logan, who we need to hear in larger roles.

Ms. Dix appeared onstage as the chorus hailed the coming of their high priestess. The soprano carefully mounted the pointless platform from which she must sing opera’s most demanding entrance aria, the immortal “Casta diva”. The Dix voice is not large, but it’s well-projected. Her opening address was authoritatively declaimed, ending with a shimmering softness at “Il sacro vischio io mieto…“

Benini set a slow pace for the “Casta diva…” which Ms. Dix sang as a spellbound invocation. As her soft tones flowed thru the vocal line, a hush fell over the house; in the second verse, a tiny embellishment on the phrase “Che regnar tu fai nel ciel” sent a frisson thru me…a delightful feeling that would be experienced several times as the opera progressed. For this is Ms. Dix’s signature vocal attribute: these delicate pianissimi that are woven into phrases at just the right moment, putting an individual stamp on the music. I came to anticipate them, and she never let me down.

But we were jarred out of reverie when Benini set up a tempo for the cabaletta, “Ah! bello a me ritorna” that only a Sills or a Bartoli could have coped with. Ms. Dix went at it gamely, but to little avail.

Things settled in after that, and the soprano’s confidence increased – though through no help from the conductor. Mlles. Dix and Gubanova formed a sisterly duetting society, and Mr. Spyres’ bristling anger at finding that his secret love had unwittingly betrayed him stirred up a fiery finish to the first act, polished off with a Dix top-D.

Ms. Dix’s contemplating the murder of her children was effectively done, and then Ms. Gubanova appeared and the two women got to the heart of the matter with a finely-matched “Mira O Norma” filled with lovely, expressive singing from both. Benini then luckily set a perfect tempo for “Sì, fino all’ore estreme” wherein the singers indulged in a bit of rubato, harmonized the scale passages to fine effect, and Adalgisa took her leave in a fit of optimism, unaware that they will never see each other again.

The final scene of NORMA is a masterpiece all on its own: Norma’s hopes are dashed, but when she has Pollione in her power, she cannot kill him. Ms. Dix and Mr. Spyres excelled in a super-charged “In mia man alfin tu sei” but despite his defiance, she still cannot bring herself to slit his throat. About to reveal Adalgisa’s crime of breaking her sacred vows, Norma is overcome with guilt and names herself instead. Ms. Dix spins out more delicate suspended tones at “Io son la rea!“, and, later, at “O padre!” as she prepares to beg her father to spare her children. The tragedy moves towards its end with the devastating “Deh! Non volerli vittime” and a last haunting piano plea from Ms. Dix: “Ah! Padre, abbi di lor pietà!“. Norma and Pollione go to their deaths, scorned and spat upon by the Druids.

I went to the stage door to greet Mr. van Horn, and to meet Ms. Dix, who is a delightful person. A sizeable crowd had gathered; people, intrigued by her “cover” story, wanted to meet her. She gave me a special autograph before joining the young boys who had portrayed her sons, Axel and Magnus Newville, to pose for photos.

You can get an idea of what makes Helena Dix an intriguing singer in this brief clip from the Verdi REQUIEM.

~ Oberon

March 25, 2023
ASO Presents Strauss’s DAPHNE

Thursday March 23rd, 2023 – The American Symphony Orchestra performing Richard Strauss’s rarely-heard DAPHNE in concert form at Carnegie Hall, with Maestro Leon Botstein on the podium. The Bard Festival Chorale, under the direction of James Bagwell, had a big part to play in the proceedings.

The one-act opera, written in 1936-1937, comes late in Strauss’s composing career, when ELEKTRA, SALOME, ROSENKAVALIER, DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN and ARIADNE AUF NAXOS were already established in the world’s opera houses.

The story of DAPHNE in a nutshell: Shepherds anticipate the feast of Dionysus, with Daphne’s parents, Peneios and Gaea, presiding over the preparations. Daphne, in love with nature, shuns the ways of men. Her childhood playmate, the shepherd Leukippos, tries to embrace her lovingly, but she repels him and renounces the coming festivities. She refuses to don the clothing her mother has lovingly prepared for her, and runs away. Playfully, the women persuade Leukippos to wear the clothes instead. Apollo arrives, in a peasant’s disguise, and is immediately drawn to Daphne, who rebuffs him. The feast begins, and the disguised Leukippos offers Daphne a cup of wine, arousing the jealousy of Apollo. The heavens respond to the god’s anger with rumbles of thunder, which cause the sheep to run away; the shepherds chase after the flock, leaving Apollo, Daphne, and Leukippos alone. Leukippos reveals his true identity, and challenges Apollo to reveal his. Instead, Apollo shoots Leukippos dead with his bow. Apollo begs Daphne’s forgiveness, saying he will grant her wish to join the natural world and will then love her in the form of a laurel tree. Her transformation begins, and her disembodied voice is heard among the rustling leaves.

About tonight: The evening got off to a rather stodgy start as a large phalanx of choristers slowly filled the stage space to sing An den Baum Daphne, an a cappella choral epilogue to the opera which Strauss composed in 1943. This seemed like a nice idea on paper, but the music overall is not terribly interesting, consisting of numerous repeats of a five-note theme familiar to me from DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN. It seemed to go on and on, and while there were many appealing individual voices among the chorus, they did not always blend well. There were some pitch issues along the way, and a feeling that the piece was a bit under-rehearsed.

Then came an intermission, which completely killed the Straussian atmosphere that had been established, with people chatting blithely and wandering up and down the aisles. At last the opera itself commenced, but it took time for the crowd to re-settle.

DAPHNE is a gorgeous opera: a veritable feast of melody…there is never a dull moment musically. The vocal writing is extremely demanding; a very fine cast had been assembled, but their work was often undermined by over-loud playing from the orchestra. At the climaxes, voices were being forced in order to stay afloat, This has been happening at The Met a lot this season too, where conductors seem to think loud = exciting. Yes, there is a superficial thrill to it, but in the end it doesn’t do anyone any good.

That being the case, the singers could only be admired for holding steadfast and getting thru these taxing moments…especially when an orchestra is onstage behind you rather than in the pit.

The opera got off to an excellent start with baritone Kenneth Overton’s handsome singing as the 1st Shepherd. The voice is fresh and warm, and he cuts a fine figure to boot. Later in the opera, a trio of choristers come forward to portray his fellow shepherds: Jack Cottrell, Paul Holmes, and Blake Austin Brooks.

In the title-role, so ravishingly sung on the esteemed EMI recording by the great Mozartean Lucia Popp, Jana McIntyre displayed a clear, soaring lyrical sound that deftly encompassed the role’s wide range. It is a girlish timbre, perfect for expressing youthful vulnerability and impetuosity, but Ms. McIntyre also summoned considerable power when needed. In one especially lovely passage, her voice entwined with an obbligato from the ASO’s concertmaster, Cyrus Beroukhim. There were a few spots when the orchestra pressured the soprano, but she held her own and emerged unfazed. Daphne is a “big sing” and without a persuasive interpreter, the opera is not worth reviving. Ms. McIntyre not only sang beautifully, but she looked fetching in her pale lime-green frock, and she used her expressive hands with the grace of a ballerina to shape the music and send it out to us.

As two maids, Marlen Nahhas and Ashley Dixon were much more than supporting players: both have luscious voices, sounding very much at home in the Carnegie Hall space. In solo phrases, they were each truly appealing to hear, and then they duetted to charming effect. Their scene was not mere filler, but a musical treat all on its own.

Strauss hated tenors: that is what people say when listening to an otherwise fine tenor struggle with the demands of Bacchus or the Emperor in FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN, Tonight, both the leading tenors – rivals in the story – fared well, despite the assaults of the orchestra at certain inconvenient moments. Kyle Van Schoonhoven as Apollo (sometimes deemed Strauss’s cruelest tenor role) had the scope of the role, and the testing top notes were successfully attained. A more thoughtful conductor could have made the singer’s job easier but Mr. Van Schoonhoven was always impressive. And, in the more lyrical stretches, he displayed a very appealing timbre…and a sense of poetry.

As Daphne’s admiring swain, Leukippos, Aaron Blake made a striking impression. Slender of frame, and intense of presence, the tenor’s lyrical sound contains a vein of metal (aligned to crisp diction) that he can call upon to cut thru when needed. By turns playful and cocky, the character was portrayed to perfection, and the tenor unleashed a laser-beam sustained note as fate closed in on him.

Magnificent singing came from contralto Ronnita Miller (Gaea) and basso Stefan Egerstrom (Peneios), as Daphne’s parents. Ms. Miller, whose 1st Norn at The Met simply dazzled me a few seasons back, sings like a goddess with earthy chest tones of unusual richness. Stunning in her every note and word, the contralto looked like a fashion icon gowned all in black, and she shed her blessèd maternal light over the proceedings, even when sitting silently while others sang. Stefan Egerstrom, where have have you been al my life? What a powerful, resonant voice this man commands. He delivered his music with great authority: each note was rounded and true, and everything compellingly phrased. And yet, for all the strength of their voices, even Ms. Miller and Mr. Egerstrom were not immune to the effects of the encroaching orchestra.

Above, onstage at Carnegie Hall (from left): Stefan Egerstrom, Ronnita Miller, Aaron Blake, Kyle Van Schoonhoven, Jana McIntyre, Leon Botstein (back to camera), and Ashley Dixon. Photo by Matthew Dine.

~ Oberon

March 23, 2023
Claire Watson as Elisabeth de Valois ~ DON CARLO

The wonderful American soprano sings Elisabeth’s great aria from Act IV of Verdi’s DON CARLO from a German-language performance given at Hamburg in 1968.

Claire Watson as Elisabeth de Valois – DON CARLO – in German – Hamburg 1968

February 27, 2023