Category: Opera

Young Concert Artists: Seiya Ueno/Wendy Chen

Tuesday October 20th, 2015 – The Japanese flautist Seiya Ueno (above, in a Matt Dine photo) with guest artist Wendy Chen at the keyboard for the opening event of the Young Concert Artists season. Tonight at Zankel Hall, these two exceptional artists presented a programme that spanned the centuries from Bach to Boulez.

Susan Wadsworth, the founder and director of Young Concert Artists, greeted us at this inaugural concert of her 55th season concert series; what this woman has done for music and for young musicians deserves our deepest gratitude.

The artists then appeared, Mr. Ueno elegant in tail-coat tuxedo, and Ms. Chen simply luminous in a soft sea-green frock. They commenced at once on the Bach Sonata in B minor, BWV 1030, and immediately established a lyrical rapport both with one another and with the audience. Mr. Ueno’s playing is stylish and deft, and his assured technique makes him capable of anything, including some captivating soft attacks. Watching Ms. Chen’s extraordinarily graceful hands move up and down the keyboard became a prime visual aspect of the evening.

Sinking into the dreamy world of Debussy’s Prélude à l’aprés-midi d’un faune, the two artists painted in sensuous Monet hues. Mr. Ueno’s soft attacks and hushed taperings of line were ideally seconded from Ms. Chen’s piano, evoking images from the ballet which caused such a scandal at its premiere.

Above: pianist Wendy Chen

The duo scored a huge success with Pierre Boulez’s Sonatine, a work filled with challenges for both players. Mr. Ueno is called upon to create rasping, burbling effects; the music whirrs and shrills and pauses on long trills; Ms. Chen meanwhile is weaving her own spell from the Steinway, maintaining an attentive connection to the sounds of the flute. Their superb playing of this complex and demanding work drew enthusiastic bravos from the crowd.

Much as I love the operas of Richard Strauss, his Sonata in E-flat major, Op. 18 for flute and piano was actually new to me. Ms. Chen’s somber opening phrases soon give way to a burst of energy and the duo are off in an infectious allegro. The score is chock full of lovely themes, many of them whispering of ROSENKAVALIER and ARIADNE AUF NAXOS. Mr. Ueno seized on these melodies and lavished them with plush, full-toned ‘singing’, and in the final movement he warbled deliciously as Ms. Chen maintained the varying rhythmic patterns with élan.

There have been many fantasies created on themes from Bizet’s opera CARMEN; tonight Mr. Ueno brought forth François Borne’s Carmen Fantasie which – de rigueur – includes such chestnuts as the ‘fate’ motif, the Habanera, the Toreador Song and the Chanson Boheme but also seeks out less obvious passages from the opera, such as Micaela’s tune from her Act I duet with Don Jose, and the latter’s pleading “Ne me quittez pas” which was deliciously embroidered upon by the flautist. As the fantasy progresses, the demands for bravura embellishments increase: cascading scales at break-neck speed and whirlwind flourishes of notes were delivered with remarkable clarity and vivacity by Mr. Ueno, with Ms. Chen yet again a flawless partner.

Responding to the audience’s warm applause, Mr. Ueno appeared alone and in a charming, rather halting speech thanked us for sharing the evening with him and ended with the heartfelt declaration: “I love music..and I love you!” He then offered a ravishing Debussy encore, Syrinx.

I realized as the evening drew to its close that this was – incredibly – my first-ever flute recital So, even in our senior years, there are still new experiences to be enjoyed in classical music!

October 20, 2015
ASO Season Opens @ Carnegie Hall

Above: Richard Strauss, the composer of Also sprach Zarathustra

Friday October 16th, 2015 – The American Symphony Orchestra opened their 2015-2016 season at Carnegie Hall with a program entitled Mimesis: Musical Representations.

Gunther Schuller’s 7 Studies on Themes of Paul Klee opened the program, and what a brilliant and highly imaginative piece it is. The seven songs are vividly differentiated in instrumentation and rhythm, becoming aural counterparts for seven paintings by the Swiss modernist Paul Klee (1879-1940). “Each of the seven pieces bears a slightly different relationship to the original Klee picture from which it stems,” Schuller wrote. “Some relate to the actual design, shape, or color scheme of the painting, while others take the general mode of the picture or its title as a point of departure.”

In “Antique Harmonies” Schuller’s music is sombre and dense. An immediate contract comes in “Abstract Trio” with whimsical winds and a single pluck of the strings. “Little Blue Devil” is captivatingly jazzy, with thrumming bass, muted trumpet, xylophone. Insectuous sounds pervade “The Twittering Machine” with edgy woodwinds and a wood-on-wood tone block marking time. “Arab Village” is an absolute delight, with a flautist playing from offstage; her ‘voice’ inspires a magical dance for harp, viola and, as the full orchestra plays very softly. They play even softer for the opening of “An Eerie Moment” which eventually rumbles grandly before fading away. For the final “Pastorale”, the violins play a repetitive two-note figure while the winds sigh, rather mournfully.

The Schuller really is a great piece; I’ve only encountered his music rarely over the years…I need to seek it out.

Henri Dutilleux’s Correspondances brought forth the beauteous soprano Sophia Burgos (above). In this cycle of five songs, the composer draws on a variety of texts: poems by Rilke and Mukherjee, and letters written by Solzhenitsyn to the Rostropovichs and by Vincent van Gogh to his brother Theo.

The singer’s agile, silvery timbre is shot thru with gem-like flecks of colour; she has an extensive range and her voice was beautifully set off by the marvelous instrumental combinations Dutilleux has employed. Countless entrancing passages for various instrumental combinations keep the ear pricked up: an especially appealing tuba outing in the Interlude, and the cunning use of accordion.

Ms. Burgos moved with thorough vocal command from urgency to passion to evocation; the audience, very taken with her, broke in with applause during the cycle, and Maestro Botstein took it in stride, nodding approvingly. In the final song, the soprano was at her most poignantly expressive: an affecting descending vocalise is heard over the shimmering strings before things take a dramatic turn and she soars to an ecstatic concluding high note. Brava! And bravi to the players as well.

Following the interval, Nico Muhly’s Seeing is Believing seemed to me – and to my pianist-companion – the least interesting work on the program. A sort of tone poem for electric violin (played by virtuoso Tracy Silverman) and orchestra, the work stretched out over 25 minutes of rather ‘same-y’ sounds and repetitive motifs.

According to the program notes, Muhly’s inspiration for the work was the practice of mapping the stars in the sky; yet I could detect no sense of the wonderment one would expect to experience is questing the heavens. Instead the music seemed earth-bound and tended to wallow in its own density. Mr. Silverman was in total command of his electrified instrument, producing some striking effects in the layered, echoing passages. Having been impressed by Muhly’s orchestrational skills in his opera. The Dark Sisters, I was disappointed with tonight’s offering. The composer was present and took a bow from his box. To me, the audience seemed to embrace the violinist without embracing the music he had just played.

Richard Strauss’s Also Sprach Zarathustra closed the evening on an epic note. Beyond its super-familiar but always impressive opening statement, the work is a rich and royal sonic tapestry into which Strauss has woven one appealing thread after another. Abounding in solo opportunities for individual instruments, this thrilling work further features a gorgeous tutti theme for celli and violins, and some interjections for organ to Westernize its spiritual aspects; an entrancing Viennese waltz looks forward to ROSENKAVALIER in no uncertain terms.

Overall, a grand finale for an impressively-played concert. And the American Symphony Orchestra‘s next concert, on December 17th, looks fascinating to me.

October 16, 2015
La Mia Gilda!

A lovely lady with a lovely voice, Gilda Cruz-Romo became my friend in 1969 around the time of her New York City Opera debut. We have stayed in touch ever since, and today I want to share this brief sample of her singing:

Gilda Cruz-Romo – In quelle trine morbide – MANON LESCAUT -Met dress rehearsal 1973

October 13, 2015
TROVATORE @ The Met

Above: Dmitri Hvorostovsky

Tuesday September 29th, 2015 – Having cancelled most of his Summer engagements to commence treatment following the diagnosis of a brain tumor, the great Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky valiantly came to New York City to sing for us at The Metropolitan Opera. The necessity of returning to London to continue his treatment regimen meant that the baritone would only sing the first three of his scheduled Met performances as Count di Luna in IL TROVATORE, but to me it spoke highly of his dedication that he made the effort to come in for these high-profile performances which also feature the first Met Leonoras of Anna Netrebko.

At the season prima, on September 25th, the audience greeted Hvorostovsky’s entrance with a show-stopping ovation. The evening ended with a tumult of cheers and applause as he took his bows, and the members of The Met orchestra flung flowers up onto the stage, signalling their affectionate regard for the great singer.

And a great singer he is…truly. Tonight – the second of the three performances in which he’ll appear – Hvorostovsky was again given a prolonged round of applause at his entrance. To me, his voice sounded, amazingly, more beautiful than ever. “Il balen” was the vocal high-point of the evening: superbly phrased and deeply felt, sustaining the poetic musings of a character often described as “evil” but who is, essentially, a real romantic.

Hvorostovsky’s Count di Luna in fact manages to engage our empathy when he is cruelly beaten by Manrico’s men in the convent scene; Manrico slashes his rival’s face, and Hvorostovsky’s acting here was wonderfully committed. All evening, the baritone kept the character very much in the forefront of both the music and the drama, from with his snarling “Io fremo!” as he listens to Manrico serenading Leonora in Act I right to the end where – if my ears didn’t deceive me – Dima chimed in on Azucena’s final high B-flat with one of his own.

Dolora Zajick’s Azucena was thrilling from start to finish; the esteemed mezzo-soprano flung her fiery high notes and cavernous chest tones into the house with resplendent authority, her monologue “Condotta ell’era in ceppi” a veritable whirlwind of emotion as she displayed an uncanny dynamic range from haunting near-whispers to thunderous outbursts. This evening she didn’t take the high-C in “Perigliarti ancor languente” that had been one of her trademarks in this role, but instead swept onward like an force of nature. Her expressive singing of “Giorni poveri vivea…” was counter-balanced moments later with the sweeping anguish of “Deh! rallentate, o barbari!” which commenced on a lightning-bolt top note and plunged into vivid chest notes. In the opera’s final scene, Zajick displayed marvelous control in “Ai nostri monti” and in the trio where she seems to be singing in her sleep, only to awaken to the horror of Manrico’s execution. Her triumphant B-flat was a glorious cry of revenge achieved.

The Korean tenor Yonghoon Lee made a positive impression as Manrico, despite the fact that his voice is rather lighter than we are accustomed to in this music. In fact, Lee’s entire repertoire seems geared to roles which call for more vocal heft than he seems capable of: I wonder if he might not be better employed – at least for now – as Alfredo, the Duke of Mantua, and Tamino.

But there’s no going back, and Lee’s impassioned commitment to both the music and the character of Manrico had the audience well engaged. Lee’s slender figure and intense acting gave the rebel leader a romantic, swashbuckling appeal; and his mixture of unbridled vocal passion with moments of hushed piano reflectiveness kept the music aurally stimulating. Oddly, he sometimes reminded me of Franco Corelli – not in terms of the voice itself, but with the smouldering ardor of his delivery.

Lee sang a beautifully modulated, emotional “Ah si, ben mio” and – if I am not mistaken – took “Di quella pira” in C with an endlessly sustained final note which was ever-so-slightly below pitch. The audience took the tenor to heart, and Mr. Lee was very warmly applauded at the curtain calls.

Anna Netrebko seemed to be forcing her voice in some of Leonora’s music; in pushing for a larger, darker sound, some of the inherent lyric beauty of her tone is drained away. Her over-leaning into the chest register was a detriment: this isn’t Santuzza. There were many fine passages along the way, but also some errant pitch and some glare on the louder high notes (she skipped the D-flat at the end of the Act I trio). The audience, needless to say, adored her.

Stefan Kocan was a powerfully-sung and dramatically commanding Ferrando, with Maria Zifchak a big-voiced Inez and my friend Edward Albert in the brief role of A Gypsy. Marco Armiliato’s conducting was ‘good routine’ – and better than that after the interval – and the orchestra played very well.

A program note explained that Ms. Netrebko’s costumes had been specially created for her. Her breasts were amply on display in the opening scene’s burgundy outfit, then at the convent she was all buttoned up, a prim and proper young ‘widow’ in black. She went in for a gypsy look for the scene prior to her (thwarted) marriage, with a nifty head-wrap.

For all the passing “ifs, ands, or buts”, this was overall a pretty exciting night at the opera: there was involvement, passion, and some very impressive vocalism along the way.

Metropolitan Opera House September 29th, 2015

IL TROVATORE Giuseppe Verdi
Manrico.................Yonghoon Lee Leonora.................Anna Netrebko Count Di Luna...........Dmitri Hvorostovsky Azucena.................Dolora Zajick Ferrando................Stefan Kocán Ines....................Maria Zifchak Ruiz....................Raúl Melo Messenger...............David Lowe Gypsy...................Edward Albert
Conductor...............Marco Armiliato

September 29, 2015
NY Philharmonic Welcomes A New Concertmaster

Above: Frank Huang

Friday September 25th, 2015 – The New York Philharmonic‘s opening concert of the subscription season introduced us to the orchestra’s new concertmaster, Frank Huang. We’d actually seen Mr. Huang playing – unannounced – at a couple of concerts last season; but now it’s official, and the Philharmonic faithful gave the violinist a warm welcome.

The program opened with LA Variations, a 1996 work by the Philharmonic’s new Marie-Josée Kravis composer-in-residence, Esa-Pekka Salonen. Salonen’s violin concerto, to which Peter Martins set his 2010 ballet MIRAGE and which the Philharmonic performed in 2013 – is to me one of the outstanding musical works of the 21st century to date. And so I was very curious to hear the composer’s much earlier work this evening.

Mr. Salonen appeared onstage prior to the playing of the Variations and made an overly-long, rambling speech about how the work was a turning point in his musical thinking. As he talked on and on, audience members around us seemed increasingly restless, and a few dozed off. At last he ambled offstage and Masetro Gilbert took the podium and – as it should – the music spoke for itself.

LA Variations is a work of consummate craftsmanship and has many very appealing passages; early on, some of the textures reminded me – oddly enough – of the Sea Interludes from Britten’s Peter Grimes. Later there are some big tutti passages that evoke a restless, rocking feeling. At the very end, there was a tantalizing ‘calling card’ from Frank Huang in an entrancing solo passage that whetted the appetite for the Strauss to come.

LA Variations seemed to show – as he indicated in his speech – the composer’s turning away from the rather sterile musical language in which he had been ingrained (he frequently mentioned Pierre Boulez in this regard), and the planting of the first seeds in his own musical garden; works like the Violin Concerto show us how that garden has bloomed and thrived in the years since Salonen’s 1996 self-discovery.

Following the interval, we experienced an incandescent performance of Richard Strauss’s Ein Heldenleben (A Hero’s Life), which dates from 1898.

In December 2013, my friend Dmitry and I experienced a superb rendering of this work played by the Philhamonic under the baton of a conductor me greatly admired: Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos; alas, just six months after that vibrant evening, the venerable Maestro passed away.

Tonight’s performance found Maestro Gilbert and the Philharmonic artists at their luminous best. It was an uplifting and wonderfully satisfying traversal of this impressive, melodically rich score. Maestro Gilbert favored a forward impetus to the music – very exhilarating – yet also provided the necessary passages of reverie.

The musical themes continually sound like previews of Strauss’s operas to come – most especially of Rosenkavalier and Frau ohne Schatten, both of which lay many years in the future. The Philharmonic musicians seemed to relish every moment of the score, whether in the big ensemble moments or the many solo opportunities which the composer provides. Philip Myers and his fellow hornsmen were having a grand night of it, as were the trumpeters in their offstage calls. The principal wind players shone with evocative lustre in their solos.

Ein Heldenleben provided an ideal showcase for Frank Huang as he embarked on his Philharmonic journey: in this Strauss work with its marvelous passages for violin solo, Mr Huang’s tone was ravishing and his style so cordial and elegant, always imparting an emotional resonance. I cannot wait for his concerto debut with the orchestra, which I hope will come soon.

And so, the Summer of my discontent has passed: the season has begun and I look forward to many nights of music and dance to elevate the spirit.

September 25, 2015
TURANDOT at The Met – 1st of 4

Wednesday September 23rd, 2015 – At a score desk this evening for the prima of TURANDOT at The Met; I’ll be attending a performance by each of this season’s four Turandots.

The first act of tonight’s performance was stunning; the conductor, Paolo Carignani, molded the huge choral and orchestral forces into a vibrant sound tapestry and his reading of the score was dynamic, whilst also allowing the necessary moments of poetry to shine thru.

Patrick Carfizzi got the evening off to an excellent start with his authoritative declamation of the Mandarin’s decree. Hibla Gerzmava’s full-bodied lyric soprano sounded luxuriant in Liu’s music; although she did not go in for the many piano/pianissimo effects that some singers have brought to this music – Gerzmava ended “Signore ascolta” with a crescendo on the final B-flat rather than a tapering of the tone – her gleaming sound was a welcome element to the performance. Marcelo Alvarez as the Unknown Prince sang with appealing lyricism, pacing himself wisely for the vocal rigors which lay ahead. James Morris was an affecting Timur, drawing upon his long operatic experience to create a touching vocal characterization of the old king. Dwayne Croft, Tony Stevenson, and Eduardo Valdes were a first-rate trio of court ministers.

As the first act ended, I felt the old elation of being at the opera. But the ‘Gelb-intermission’ which followed totally destroyed the impetus of the evening. As is so often the case at The Met these days, the interval stretched to 40 minutes, the last ten of which found the entire audience back in their seats and raring to go while the musicians sat in the pit doodling idly.

At last the conductor re-appeared and we had a delightful rendering of the Ping-Pang-Pong scene with Mr. Croft and his two tenor sidekicks successfully mining both the wit and the nostalgia of the music, one of Puccini’s most delectable creations – and superbly orchestrated into the bargain.

I was looking forward to hearing Ronald Naldi – a long-time favorite of mine – as the Emperor Altoum but he was replaced by Mark Schowalter, who projected well from his distant throne. The exchange between the aged monarch and the Unknown Prince was interesting in that Mr. Alvarez eschewed the usual stentorian delivery of “Figlio del cielo…” (three times) for a more pensive vocal quality.

Christine Goerke’s Turandot did not make the vocal impression I was hoping for; the uppermost notes in the princess’s treacherous music seemed slightly out of Goerke’s comfort zone. She managed well enough, and used a darkish middle and lower range to good effect. But the trumpeting brilliance of the tones above A, which we have come to expect from our Turandots, was not really forthcoming. I am not sure why she wished to sing this role, since Wagner and Strauss are now her natural habitat.

Faced with yet another stupor-inducing intermission, I left during the Act II curtain calls.

Metropolitan Opera House September 23rd, 2015
TURANDOT Giacomo Puccini Turandot................Christine Goerke Calàf...................Marcelo Álvarez Liù.....................Hibla Gerzmava Timur...................James Morris Ping....................Dwayne Croft Pang....................Tony Stevenson Pong....................Eduardo Valdes Emperor Altoum..........Ronald Naldi Mandarin................Patrick Carfizzi Maid....................Anne Nonnemacher Maid....................Mary Hughes Prince of Persia........Sasha Semin Executioner.............Arthur Lazalde Three Masks: Elliott Reiland [Debut], Andrew Robinson, Amir Levy Temptresses: Jennifer Cadden, Oriada Islami Prifti, Rachel Schuette, Sarah Weber-Gallo
Conductor...............Paolo Carignani

September 24, 2015
TURANDOT at The Met – 1st of 4

Wednesday September 23rd, 2015 – At a score desk this evening for the prima of TURANDOT at The Met; I’ll be attending a performance by each of this season’s four Turandots.

The first act of tonight’s performance was stunning; the conductor, Paolo Carignani, molded the huge choral and orchestral forces into a vibrant sound tapestry and his reading of the score was dynamic, whilst also allowing the necessary moments of poetry to shine thru.

Patrick Carfizzi got the evening off to an excellent start with his authoritative declamation of the Mandarin’s decree. Hibla Gerzmava’s full-bodied lyric soprano sounded luxuriant in Liu’s music; although she did not go in for the many piano/pianissimo effects that some singers have brought to this music – Gerzmava ended “Signore ascolta” with a crescendo on the final B-flat rather than a tapering of the tone – her gleaming sound was a welcome element to the performance. Marcelo Alvarez as the Unknown Prince sang with appealing lyricism, pacing himself wisely for the vocal rigors which lay ahead. James Morris was an affecting Timur, drawing upon his long operatic experience to create a touching vocal characterization of the old king. Dwayne Croft, Tony Stevenson, and Eduardo Valdes were a first-rate trio of court ministers.

As the first act ended, I felt the old elation of being at the opera. But the ‘Gelb-intermission’ which followed totally destroyed the impetus of the evening. As is so often the case at The Met these days, the interval stretched to 40 minutes, the last ten of which found the entire audience back in their seats and raring to go while the musicians sat in the pit doodling idly.

At last the conductor re-appeared and we had a delightful rendering of the Ping-Pang-Pong scene with Mr. Croft and his two tenor sidekicks successfully mining both the wit and the nostalgia of the music, one of Puccini’s most delectable creations – and superbly orchestrated into the bargain.

I was looking forward to hearing Ronald Naldi – a long-time favorite of mine – as the Emperor Altoum but he was replaced by Mark Schowalter, who projected well from his distant throne. The exchange between the aged monarch and the Unknown Prince was interesting in that Mr. Alvarez eschewed the usual stentorian delivery of “Figlio del cielo…” (three times) for a more pensive vocal quality.

Christine Goerke’s Turandot did not make the vocal impression I was hoping for; the uppermost notes in the princess’s treacherous music seemed slightly out of Goerke’s comfort zone. She managed well enough, and used a darkish middle and lower range to good effect. But the trumpeting brilliance of the tones above A, which we have come to expect from our Turandots, was not really forthcoming. I am not sure why she wished to sing this role, since Wagner and Strauss are now her natural habitat.

Faced with yet another stupor-inducing intermission, I left during the Act II curtain calls.

Metropolitan Opera House September 23rd, 2015
TURANDOT Giacomo Puccini Turandot................Christine Goerke Calàf...................Marcelo Álvarez Liù.....................Hibla Gerzmava Timur...................James Morris Ping....................Dwayne Croft Pang....................Tony Stevenson Pong....................Eduardo Valdes Emperor Altoum..........Ronald Naldi Mandarin................Patrick Carfizzi Maid....................Anne Nonnemacher Maid....................Mary Hughes Prince of Persia........Sasha Semin Executioner.............Arthur Lazalde Three Masks: Elliott Reiland [Debut], Andrew Robinson, Amir Levy Temptresses: Jennifer Cadden, Oriada Islami Prifti, Rachel Schuette, Sarah Weber-Gallo
Conductor...............Paolo Carignani

September 23, 2015
Mariana Paunova

The Bulgarian mezzo-soprano Mariana Paunova (above) made her operatic debut in 1977, as Pauline in PIQUE-DAME at the Spoleto Festival in Charleston, South Carolina. I saw her as Isaura in a concert performance of Rossini’s TANCREDI at Carnegie Hall in 1978, and she sang at the Met in 1979, as Olga in EUGENE ONEGIN.

In 1983 I heard her as Laura in a broadcast of LA GIOCONDA from San Francisco and was very much taken with her darkish, plushy sound. In that same year, she recorded Dukas’ ARIANE ET BARBE-BLEUE for Erato, conducted by Armin Jordan.

Paunova’s career continued apace in the US, Canada, Mexico, and Europe; she sang the role of La Comandante in Riccardo Zandonai’s I CAVALIERI DI EKEBU at Alice Tully Hall in 2000.

Mariana Paunova taught at the Manhattan School of Music until her untimely death in 2002.

GIOCONDA – Act II exc – M Paunova – Slatinaru – Bonisolli – Manuguerra – San F 1983

September 19, 2015
The Turandots

During the coming season at the Metropolitan Opera, I’ll be hearing four different sopranos in the role of Turandot. Of these, three will be new to me in the role: Christine Goerke, Jennifer Wilson, and Nina Stemme. The fourth will be Lise Lindstrom, who made a very fine vocal impression as Turandot here during the 2009-2010 season and who has the added appeal of being wonderfully suited to the role in terms of physique and stage savvy.

For opera lovers of my generation, the silver-trumpet voice of the great Swedish soprano Birgit Nilsson is unforgettably linked to the music of Turandot; I had the good fortune of seeing Nilsson’s Turandot five times – each performance with a different soprano portraying Liu: Teresa Stratas, Anna Moffo, Mirella Freni, Montserrat Caballe, and Gabriella Tucci. Once you experienced the Nilsson sound in this role in the theatre, you felt you’d never find her equal.

And yet, Nilsson was not my first Turandot: it was instead Mary Curtis-Verna who made a very strong impression on this young opera-lover in a performance at the Old Met with Jess Thomas (Calaf) and Lucine Amara (Liu) also in the cast. Curtis-Verna had the Italian style down pat, and she had no problems whatsoever leaping over the many vocal hurdles Puccini set in her path; her final high B-flat had a theatre-filling glow.

Nilsson (who we referred to as “The Big B” or “The Great White Goddess”) was at her vocal apex in 1966 when she sang a series of Turandots starting in the first week of the first season at the New Met. It’s impossible to describe the exhilarating build-up of anticipation as we waited for her to commence: “In questa reggia”. No recording of Nilsson in this opera, whether studio-made or live, has quite captured the frisson of her brilliant attack and the sheer thrust of the voice being deployed into the big space. Her partnership with Franco Corelli in this opera is legendary; and I was also there on a single night when the stars aligned and we had a Birgit Nilsson-James King-Montserrat Caballe TURANDOT which ended with one of the longest ovations I every experienced.

Nilsson sang her last Met Turandot in 1970. When the opera returned to the Met repertory in 1974, Nilsson’s good friend, the Norwegian soprano Ingrid Bjoner was one of three sopranos cast in the title-role. Bjoner for me was the ‘next best thing’ to Nilsson, and to my mind it seemed that Bjoner’s characterization was more detailed and thoughtful than Birgit’s.

Since Bjoner, I have seen more than two dozen sopranos in the fearsome role of the Chinese princess, at The Met, New York City Opera, and Opera Company of Boston (where we saw Eva Marton take on the role for the first time with great success). Linda Kelm at New York City Opera and Dame Gwyneth Jones at The Met stand out in my memory as particularly thrilling, though I must admit in all honesty I never heard anyone give a less-than-respectable performance in the role – which is saying something, really, given the rigors of the composer’s demands and with the spirit of Nilsson hovering over the popolo di Pekino.

I have my notions as to how this season’s Turandots will fare, based on their recent performances; I look forward to being proved right…or wrong.

September 17, 2015
Leo Goeke

During the 1970s, the American lyric tenor Leo Goeke (above) was a popular artist at both the New York City Opera and The Met. A finalist in the 1967 Met Auditions, Goeke sang more than 200 performances at The Met and on tour, including such roles as Tamino, Count Almaviva, and the Italian Singer in ROSENKAVALIER. He sang (beautifully) the Voice of the Young Sailor in the Met’s 1971 August Everding production of TRISTAN UND ISOLDE, and in 1973 he was Hylas in the Metropolitan Opera premiere of Berlioz LES TROYENS.

Several of Leo Goeke’s numerous European successes are available on DVD: from England’s Glyndebourne Festival where he sang three Mozart roles and – in 1975 – Stravinsky’s Tom Rakewell in an interpretation that was hailed as ideal; and his performance as Gandhi in Achim Freyer’s Stuttgart Opera production of Glass’s SATYAGRAHA.

Goeke passed away in 2012.

Leo Goeke – Il mio tesoro – DON GIOVANNI – NYCO 10~29~72

September 15, 2015