Oberon's Glade

Category: Opera

  • Berlioz’s THE TROJANS @ Covent Garden 1957

    Thebomtroj

    A recording of the Royal Opera’s 1957 English-language production of Hector Berlioz’s monumental opera THE TROJANS has come my way and it has many felicitous elements. The translation appropriately relies on Early Modern English pronouns (thee/thou/thine) to evoke the ancient kingdoms of Troy and Carthage. With a few passing cuts in this epic opus, Rafael Kubelik helms the performance impressively and the sound quality is quite good for a recording made 50+ years ago.

    For years after I discovered opera in 1959, I subscribed to the British magazine OPERA. The cast of this TROJANS is full of ‘Covent Garden’ names that were familiar to me thru the magazine long before I heard any of their actual voices: people like Amy Shuard, Forbes Robinson, Noreen Berry, Marie Collier, Joan Carlyle, Michael Langdon, and Lauris Elms.

    At The Met, Blanche Thebom was an established star (Met debut 1944) by the time she appeared as Dido in London, and Jon Vickers made his role-debut as Aeneas in this ’57 performance, which became a signature part for the great tenor.

    Curiously, this is a performance in which each of the three principal singers proves less than ideal, yet the overall performance – thanks to Maestro Kubelik and the strong supporting cast – still makes a vivid impression. 

    Amy Shuard does not seem absolutely at home in the role of Cassandra; she has passing pitch problems and some of the music seems to lay too low for her to make her finest impression. Her commitment is undoubted, and her sense of the drama and her fine high notes are positive aspects. But often one just wants more power and colour in the lower-middle and lowest ranges of this music, which rather awkwardly straddles the mezzo/soprano divide.

    Blanche Thebom as Dido has the right aristocratic feeling for Dido’s music; she becomes more passionate as her love for Aeneas is inflamed – and then thwarted – by destiny. Thebom’s strong top notes stand out, and she fills scene after scene with perfectly good singing; yet her voice sometimes seems matronly and a bit lacking in tonal bloom. 

    It would be nice to be able to say that Jon Vickers’ first Aeneas was an unalloyed triumph, but despite his excellent diction and superbly individual voice – which amply conveys the the character’s innate humanity and rather grizzled tenderness – and his sense of vocal identification with every aspect of the hero’s personality, he is not at ease in the role’s top-most notes. He omits the highest vocal arc of the love duet, reveals some effort in the demanding “Inutiles Regrets!” and seems rather uncomfortable in his final  cry of “Italie!” As Vickers sang the role in the ensuing years, his voice found itself increasingly at home in this demanding music; and indeed even here in 1957 there is much impressive singing.

    Despite some reservations about both Thebom and Vickers, they do achieve some especially fine soft harmonies as they sing of the mysterious wonders of love in the great duet “Nuit d’ivresse.”

    The stalwart baritone Jess Walters sings strongly as Chorebus; his duet with Ms. Shuard is full of apt dramatic touches from both singers – and the soprano’s concluding top-B is her best note of the performance.

    Lauris-elms

    Lauris Elms (above) makes an especially lovely impression as Dido’s sister, Anna. Anna’s role includes two wonderful duets: the first, with Dido, in which she urges her widowed sister to consider opening her heart to another love; and the second, with Dido’s minister Narbal. Narbal’s concerns about the effects of the Dido/Aeneas attachment on Dido’s ability to rule are brushed off by her sister who is so delighted at Dido’s new-found happiness. Ms. Elms has a full-throated lyric mezzo sound and dips into her lower range without over-emphasis; her voice is clear and so is her diction. I keep going back to Anna’s two duets, just to enjoy Ms. Elms’ vocalism.

    Joining Lauris Elms in the Anna/Narbal duet, basso David Kelly – who was an indispensable Covent Garden regular for fifteen years – is a perfect match for the mezzo; his diction and well-produced voice make for a very effective portrayal.

    Verreau-Richard-2

    I was particularly pleased with the Iopas of Richard Verreau (above); this French-Canadian tenor was my first Faust in a performance at the Old Met in 1963. He sings the high-lying solo “O blonde Cérès” quite beautifully, in a more passionate and extroverted interpretation of the aria than is sometimes heard. In the second of LES TROYENS’ two taxing and exposed solos for lyric tenors, Irishman Dermot Troy sings the plaintive aria of the homesick sailor Hylas with attractive lyricism.

    TROYENS is such a unique and treasure-filled opera; whatever concerns this recording raises, I am sure I will return to it time and again.

  • Berlioz’s THE TROJANS @ Covent Garden 1957

    Thebomtroj

    A recording of the Royal Opera’s 1957 English-language production of Hector Berlioz’s monumental opera THE TROJANS has come my way and it has many felicitous elements. The translation appropriately relies on Early Modern English pronouns (thee/thou/thine) to evoke the ancient kingdoms of Troy and Carthage. With a few passing cuts in this epic opus, Rafael Kubelik helms the performance impressively and the sound quality is quite good for a recording made 50+ years ago.

    For years after I discovered opera in 1959, I subscribed to the British magazine OPERA. The cast of this TROJANS is full of ‘Covent Garden’ names that were familiar to me thru the magazine long before I heard any of their actual voices: people like Amy Shuard, Forbes Robinson, Noreen Berry, Marie Collier, Joan Carlyle, Michael Langdon, and Lauris Elms.

    At The Met, Blanche Thebom was an established star (Met debut 1944) by the time she appeared as Dido in London, and Jon Vickers made his role-debut as Aeneas in this ’57 performance, which became a signature part for the great tenor.

    Curiously, this is a performance in which each of the three principal singers proves less than ideal, yet the overall performance – thanks to Maestro Kubelik and the strong supporting cast – still makes a vivid impression. 

    Amy Shuard does not seem absolutely at home in the role of Cassandra; she has passing pitch problems and some of the music seems to lay too low for her to make her finest impression. Her commitment is undoubted, and her sense of the drama and her fine high notes are positive aspects. But often one just wants more power and colour in the lower-middle and lowest ranges of this music, which rather awkwardly straddles the mezzo/soprano divide.

    Blanche Thebom as Dido has the right aristocratic feeling for Dido’s music; she becomes more passionate as her love for Aeneas is inflamed – and then thwarted – by destiny. Thebom’s strong top notes stand out, and she fills scene after scene with perfectly good singing; yet her voice sometimes seems matronly and a bit lacking in tonal bloom. 

    It would be nice to be able to say that Jon Vickers’ first Aeneas was an unalloyed triumph, but despite his excellent diction and superbly individual voice – which amply conveys the the character’s innate humanity and rather grizzled tenderness – and his sense of vocal identification with every aspect of the hero’s personality, he is not at ease in the role’s top-most notes. He omits the highest vocal arc of the love duet, reveals some effort in the demanding “Inutiles Regrets!” and seems rather uncomfortable in his final  cry of “Italie!” As Vickers sang the role in the ensuing years, his voice found itself increasingly at home in this demanding music; and indeed even here in 1957 there is much impressive singing.

    Despite some reservations about both Thebom and Vickers, they do achieve some especially fine soft harmonies as they sing of the mysterious wonders of love in the great duet “Nuit d’ivresse.”

    The stalwart baritone Jess Walters sings strongly as Chorebus; his duet with Ms. Shuard is full of apt dramatic touches from both singers – and the soprano’s concluding top-B is her best note of the performance.

    Lauris-elms

    Lauris Elms (above) makes an especially lovely impression as Dido’s sister, Anna. Anna’s role includes two wonderful duets: the first, with Dido, in which she urges her widowed sister to consider opening her heart to another love; and the second, with Dido’s minister Narbal. Narbal’s concerns about the effects of the Dido/Aeneas attachment on Dido’s ability to rule are brushed off by her sister who is so delighted at Dido’s new-found happiness. Ms. Elms has a full-throated lyric mezzo sound and dips into her lower range without over-emphasis; her voice is clear and so is her diction. I keep going back to Anna’s two duets, just to enjoy Ms. Elms’ vocalism.

    Joining Lauris Elms in the Anna/Narbal duet, basso David Kelly – who was an indispensable Covent Garden regular for fifteen years – is a perfect match for the mezzo; his diction and well-produced voice make for a very effective portrayal.

    Verreau-Richard-2

    I was particularly pleased with the Iopas of Richard Verreau (above); this French-Canadian tenor was my first Faust in a performance at the Old Met in 1963. He sings the high-lying solo “O blonde Cérès” quite beautifully, in a more passionate and extroverted interpretation of the aria than is sometimes heard. In the second of LES TROYENS’ two taxing and exposed solos for lyric tenors, Irishman Dermot Troy sings the plaintive aria of the homesick sailor Hylas with attractive lyricism.

    TROYENS is such a unique and treasure-filled opera; whatever concerns this recording raises, I am sure I will return to it time and again.

  • Season Finale: Score Desk for BALLO IN MASCHERA

    -hvorostovsky-radvanovsky

    Above: Dmitry Hvorostovsky and Sondra Radvanovsky

    Tuesday April 28th, 2015 – For my final Met performance of the current season, Verdi’s BALLO IN MASCHERA with probably the strongest overall cast of any opera produced at the Met this season. I felt no need to see the Met’s mixed-bag, neither-here-nor-there production again, so I was back at my score desk. Of the twenty-plus performances I attended at the Met this season, most were experienced from score desks; there is less and less of a need to actually see what it happening onstage, so why spend the money on a ‘room with a view’? And besides, I hardly ever stay to the end of anything thanks to the slow agony of the Gelb-length intermissions. Tonight, though, my two amusing friends Adi and Craig helped make the long breaks somewhat more tolerable.

    Tonight’s audience was one of the largest I’ve seen at the opera all season. The Met’s always been a ‘singers house’; the box office is voice-driven and has been since the days of de Reszke and Caruso. There was Flagstad, and Birgit and Franco; and there was Pav, and now there’s Netrebko and Kaufmann. People come for the singing because that’s what opera is all about.

    The evening began with an announcement that James Levine would be replaced on the podium by John Keenan. This may have been a rather last-minute decision since Levine’s special wheelchair platform was in place. Keenan is a very fine Wagner conductor, but in the Italian repertoire Joseph Colaneri would be my choice if Levine is ailing. Much of Act I tonight had an unkempt quality; the singers seemed to want different tempi than Keenan was offering them, and they tended to speed ahead, leaving the orchestra to catch up.

    Piotr Beczala – superb in IOLANTA earlier in the season – sounded a bit tired in Act I. His opening aria was not smooth and the climactic top A-sharp was tight and veered above pitch. He began to settle in vocally at Ulrica’s, though the (written) low notes in “Di tu se fedele” were clumsily handled – no one would have cared if he’d sung them up an octave. By the time he reached the great love duet, Beczala was sounding much more like his usual self, and his “Non sai tu che se l’anima mia” was particularly fine. Spurred on by his resplendent soprano, the Polish tenor invested the rest of the duet with vibrant, passionate singing.

    As Ulrica, Dolora Zajick was exciting: the voice has its familiar amplitude and earthy chest notes intact and she also sang some beautiful piani, observing Verdi’s markings. It’s not her fault that the production idiotically calls for amplification of her deep call for “Silenzio!” at the end of her aria. Dolora’s chest tones don’t need artificial enhancement.

    Heidi Stober was a serviceable Oscar; her highest notes could take on a brassy edge and overall she lacked vocal charm. Memories of Reri Grist, Roberta Peters, Judith Blegen, Lyubov Petrova, and Kathleen Kim kept getting in my ear, perhaps unfairly.

    Dmitry Hvorostovsky as Count Anckarström was in splendid voice from note one, and his opening aria “Alla vita che t’arride” was beautifully phrased with a suave legato, the cadenza rising up to a majestically sustained high note. In the scene at the gallows (or rather – as this production places it – “in an abandoned warehouse…”) the baritone was vividly involved, first as a loyal friend urging his king to flee and later as the shamed, betrayed husband.

    Sondra Radvanovsky, who in 2013 gave us a truly impressive Norma at The Met, was – like the baritone – on top form. With a voice utterly distinctive and unlike any other, and with the seemingly innate ability to find the emotional core of any role she takes on, Radvanovsky has a quality of vocal glamour that makes her undoubtedly the most exciting soprano before the public today. What makes her all the more captivating is that, if a random note has a passing huskiness or isn’t quite sounding as she wants it to, she’s able to make pinpoint adjustments and forge ahead. This makes her singing interesting and keeps us on high alert, wondering what she’ll do next. Thus she generates a kind of anticipatory excitement that is rare these days.

    Launching Amelia’s “Consentimi o signore’ in the Act I trio, Sondra shows off the Verdian line of which she alone today seems true mistress. When we next meet her, she is out on her terrified search for the magical herb. Unfurling the grand recitative “Ecco l’orrido campo…” with instinctive dramatic accents, she draws us into Amelia’s plight. The great aria that follows is a marvel of expressiveness (though I do wish she would eliminate the little simpering whimpers during the orchestral bridge…a pointless touch of verismo); and then terror seizes her and she goes momentarily mad before calming herself with the great prayerful ascent to the high-C. The ensuing cadenza was both highly emotional and superbly voiced.

    In the love duet, with Beczala now vocally aflame, Sondra gave some of her most incredibly nuanced, sustained singing at “Ma tu, nobile…”- astounding control –  before the two singers sailed on to the impetuous release of the duet’s celebratory finale and ended on a joint high-C.

    Amelia’s husband unexpectedly appears to warn the king that his enemies are lurking; after Gustavo has fled (has Sondra ever contemplated taking a high-D at the end of the trio here? I’ve heard it done…), soprano and baritone kept the excitement level at fever pitch during the scene with the conspirators: page after page of Verdian drama marvelously voiced, ending with a rich high B-flat from the soprano as she is hauled off to be punished.

    I hate the break in continuity here: ideally we would follow the couple home and the intensity level would suffer no letdown; instead we have another over-long intermission.

    But the mood was quickly re-established when the curtain next rose: Hvorostovsky thundering and growling while Radvanovsky pleads for mercy. Now the evening reached a peak of vocal splendour as the soprano sang her wrenchingly poignant plea “Morro, ma prima in grazia…” Displaying a fascinating command of vocal colour and of dynamics that ranged from ravishing piani to gleaming forte, the soprano was in her greatest glory here, with a spectacular cadenza launched from a sublime piano C-flat before plunging into the heartfelt depths and resolving in a ravishingly sustained note of despair.

    Hvorostovsky then seized the stage. In one of Verdi’s most thrilling soliloquies, the character moves from fury to heartbreak. After the snarling anger of “Eri tu”, Dima came to the heart of the matter: using his peerless legato and vast palette of dynamic shadings, he made “O dolcezze perdute, o memorie…”  so affecting in its tragic lyricism before moving to a state of resignation and finishing on a gorgeously sustained final note. In the scene of the drawing of lots, Hvorostovsky capped his triumph with an exultant “Il mio nome! O giustizia del fato!” – “My name! O the justice of fate: revenge shall be mine!” His revenge will bring only remorse. 

    We left after this scene, taking with us the fresh memory of these two great singers – Radvanovsky and Hvorostovsky – having shown us why opera remains a vital force in our lives.  

    Metropolitan Opera House
    April 28, 2015

    UN BALLO IN MASCHERA
    Giuseppe Verdi

    Amelia.............................Sondra Radvanovsky
    Riccardo (Gustavo III).............Piotr Beczala
    Renato (Count Anckarström).........Dmitri Hvorostovsky
    Ulrica (Madame Ulrica Arvidsson)...Dolora Zajick
    Oscar..............................Heidi Stober
    Samuel (Count Ribbing).............Keith Miller
    Tom (Count Horn)...................David Crawford
    Silvano (Cristiano)................Trevor Scheunemann
    Judge..............................Mark Schowalter
    Servant............................Scott Scully

    Conductor..........................John Keenan

  • RHEINGOLD at The Met/1957

    Blanche_Thebom_1954

    Above: mezzo-soprano Blanche Thebom

    Note: When I wrote this article, the performance was available on YouTube. It no longer is.

    I so thoroughly enjoyed listening to a of Wagner’s DAS RHEINGOLD, a 1957 matinee broadcast from The Met. Fritz Stiedry shapes the score very well and if the Met’s orchestra then is not the equal if the Met Orchestra now, it’s more than respectable.

    There are many jewels in the cast; most especially I love Blanche Thebom’s aristocratic, subtle Fricka and the tonally-rich, doom-ladened singing of Erda’s warning by Jean Madeira. Ramon Vinay and Norman Kelley give wonderfully characterful portrayals of Loge and Mime’s, and Lawrence Davidson is a strong Alberich. Despite some lapses from pitch, Hermann Uhde is an authoritative Wotan with a keen sense of the drama. James McCracken’s Froh – dating from before his rise to fame – shows his distinctive timbre, and the Rhinemaidens are really nice, with Rosalind Elias’s sultry tone particularly ingratiating.

    The Cast:

    Wotan: Hermann Uhde
    Donner: Arthur Budney
    Froh: James McCracken
    Loge: Ramón Vinay
    Fricka: Blanche Thebom
    Freia: Mariquita Moll
    Erda: Jean Madeira
    Alberich: Lawrence Davidson
    Mime: Norman Kelley
    Fasolt: Kurt Böhme
    Fafner: Dezsö Ernster
    Woglinde: Heidi Krall
    Wellgunde: Rosalind Elias
    Floßhilde: Sandra Warfield

    Metropolitan Opera Orchestra
    Conductor: Fritz Stiedry
    Metropolitan Opera/January 26th,1957

  • American Symphony Orchestra’s MUSIC U

    Cd_cover460

    Sunday April 19th, 2015 – This note from the press release describes the inspiration for today’s programme, entitled ‘MUSIC U’, by the American Symphony Orchestra: “In a country without kings and courts, universities have served as the patrons for many of America’s greatest composers.” Leon Botstein and the ASO were joined by the Cornell University Glee Club & Chorus in a celebration of five Ivy League composers.

    RandallThompson480

    In 1940, Randall Thompson (above) who taught at Harvard and was director of the Curtis Institute, was commissioned to compose a choral work for the opening exercises of the new Berkshire Music Center at Tanglewood, to be performed by the entire student body. The composer offered a setting of the Alleluia. Distraught over the Nazi invasion of France, Thompson could not bring himself to compose a joyous fanfare. Instead, he produced this solemnly beautiful and introspective piece, inspired by the Biblical passage (Job 1:21): “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

    Performing a cappella under the direction of Robert Isaacs, the young singers from Cornell displayed a lovely vocal blend in the heavenly harmonies of this slow, lilting choral miniature. The gentle pace quickens somewhat near the work’s end, but falls back into calm with a very sustained final note that hung on the air.

    Parker

    After a rather long pause, the concert continued with the oldest work (late 19th century) on the programme: the cantata Dream-King and his Love by Horatio Parker (above), one-time Dean of Music at Yale. This cantata won first prize in its category in a competition judged by Dvořák himself. A fanciful romantic text tells the tale of a maiden visited in her dream by a kingly lover.

    The work is melody-filled and seems to echo some of the exotic works of Jules Massenet. From the lyrical opening (the harp is prominent) thru passages dance-like, rapturous, and triumphant by turns, the music opens out like a perfumed lotus blossom. The naturally youthful sound of tenor soloist Phillip Fargo fell pleasingly in the ear, and the singers from Cornell again gave of their best.

    Rochberg-George-01

    The Symphony No. 2 by George Rochberg (above), who ran the music department at the University of Pennsylvania, was the longest work on the programme. Composed in 1955-1956, this symphony today sounds like a generic work from an era when classical music was not quite sure what direction it was headed in. It’s a big-scale piece, one which seems to take itself very seriously. One can sense such influences as Prokofiev, Stravinsky and Schönberg in the writing, and the composer’s fine craftsmanship is never in doubt. Yet despite its rhythmic variety and interesting sonic textures – oboe and horns are well-employed – the piece seemed over-extended. Melody is pretty much banished – a promising duet passage for two violas evaporated after a few seconds – and although melody is not essential, it is inevitably gratifying. Maestro Botstein’s commitment to the work and the excellent playing of the ASO – many fleeting bits of solo work are strewn throughout the score – made as strong a case for the symphony as one could hope to hear.

    300h

    Music for Cello and Orchestra by Harvard’s Leon Kirchner (above)…

    Nicholas-Canellakis

    …with soloist Nicholas Canellakis (above) opened the second half of the concert. The cellist is a frequent participant in Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s superb concerts.

    Today, Kirchner’s music seemed to me to have found what was missing from the Rochberg: a connection to the heart. Throughout the Kirchner, the solo cello gives his piece a sense of unity and purpose that – to my ears – the Rochberg lacks. Kirchner’s orchestration is colorful and dense, with excellent use of percussion, and the music sometimes takes on a cinematic quality. I love hearing a piano mixed into an orchestral ensemble work, and at the reference to TRISTAN UND ISOLDE, my friend Adi and I exchanged smiles.

    Mr. Canellakis was simply breathtaking right from the cello’s passionate opening statement. He was deeply involved in the music, moving seamlessly from a gleaming upper register to the soulful singing of his middle range. Capable of both redolent lyricism and energetic, jagged flourishes, Nicholas’s playing seemed so at home in the venerable Hall. The audience gave him lusty and well-deserved round of applause as he was called back to the stage after his exceptional performance.   

    Robertosierraheadshot

    The chorus then returned to the stage for the concert’s grand finale: the world premiere of Cantares by Roberto Sierra (above), which Cornell University commissioned for this concert in celebration of their 150th anniversary. In this panoramic work, the cultures of the African, Spanish, Native Peruvian, and Aztec peoples are entwined in vivid musical settings of texts dating back to the 16th and 17th centuries. The composer has re-imagined these invocations and narratives for the contemporary world; for this piece, the Cornell choristers leapt readily from Quechua to Spanish.

    A long sustained tone opens Cantares; then, emerging from dark turbulence, the chorus begins to ‘speak’. A trumpet call, a wandering xylophone, a celestial harp, an oddly ominous rattle: these are all heard as kozmic sound-clouds drift by. The music is mystical and – with the under-pacing of rhythmic chant – takes on an other-worldly feeling.

    The second movement evokes African ritual and that continent’s ancient connection to Cuba. The music seems to echo thru time in its heavenly, ecstatic vibrations. Somehow Chausson’s Poeme de l’amour et de la Mer came to mind.

    An orchestral interlude has the flutter of birdsong and a dense-jungle yet transparent appeal and leads into the final Suerte lamentosa, an epic of dueling cultures told from both the winners’ and the losers’ points of view.

    The work is perhaps a trifle too long, but the composer has been successful in drawing us to contemplate the oft-forgotten (or ignored) events surrounding the injection of Christianity into the Western Hemisphere. And musically it’s truly brilliant.

  • American Symphony Orchestra’s MUSIC U

    Cd_cover460

    Sunday April 19th, 2015 – This note from the press release describes the inspiration for today’s programme, entitled ‘MUSIC U’, by the American Symphony Orchestra: “In a country without kings and courts, universities have served as the patrons for many of America’s greatest composers.” Leon Botstein and the ASO were joined by the Cornell University Glee Club & Chorus in a celebration of five Ivy League composers.

    RandallThompson480

    In 1940, Randall Thompson (above) who taught at Harvard and was director of the Curtis Institute, was commissioned to compose a choral work for the opening exercises of the new Berkshire Music Center at Tanglewood, to be performed by the entire student body. The composer offered a setting of the Alleluia. Distraught over the Nazi invasion of France, Thompson could not bring himself to compose a joyous fanfare. Instead, he produced this solemnly beautiful and introspective piece, inspired by the Biblical passage (Job 1:21): “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

    Performing a cappella under the direction of Robert Isaacs, the young singers from Cornell displayed a lovely vocal blend in the heavenly harmonies of this slow, lilting choral miniature. The gentle pace quickens somewhat near the work’s end, but falls back into calm with a very sustained final note that hung on the air.

    Parker

    After a rather long pause, the concert continued with the oldest work (late 19th century) on the programme: the cantata Dream-King and his Love by Horatio Parker (above), one-time Dean of Music at Yale. This cantata won first prize in its category in a competition judged by Dvořák himself. A fanciful romantic text tells the tale of a maiden visited in her dream by a kingly lover.

    The work is melody-filled and seems to echo some of the exotic works of Jules Massenet. From the lyrical opening (the harp is prominent) thru passages dance-like, rapturous, and triumphant by turns, the music opens out like a perfumed lotus blossom. The naturally youthful sound of tenor soloist Phillip Fargo fell pleasingly in the ear, and the singers from Cornell again gave of their best.

    Rochberg-George-01

    The Symphony No. 2 by George Rochberg (above), who ran the music department at the University of Pennsylvania, was the longest work on the programme. Composed in 1955-1956, this symphony today sounds like a generic work from an era when classical music was not quite sure what direction it was headed in. It’s a big-scale piece, one which seems to take itself very seriously. One can sense such influences as Prokofiev, Stravinsky and Schönberg in the writing, and the composer’s fine craftsmanship is never in doubt. Yet despite its rhythmic variety and interesting sonic textures – oboe and horns are well-employed – the piece seemed over-extended. Melody is pretty much banished – a promising duet passage for two violas evaporated after a few seconds – and although melody is not essential, it is inevitably gratifying. Maestro Botstein’s commitment to the work and the excellent playing of the ASO – many fleeting bits of solo work are strewn throughout the score – made as strong a case for the symphony as one could hope to hear.

    300h

    Music for Cello and Orchestra by Harvard’s Leon Kirchner (above)…

    Nicholas-Canellakis

    …with soloist Nicholas Canellakis (above) opened the second half of the concert. The cellist is a frequent participant in Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center‘s superb concerts.

    Today, Kirchner’s music seemed to me to have found what was missing from the Rochberg: a connection to the heart. Throughout the Kirchner, the solo cello gives his piece a sense of unity and purpose that – to my ears – the Rochberg lacks. Kirchner’s orchestration is colorful and dense, with excellent use of percussion, and the music sometimes takes on a cinematic quality. I love hearing a piano mixed into an orchestral ensemble work, and at the reference to TRISTAN UND ISOLDE, my friend Adi and I exchanged smiles.

    Mr. Canellakis was simply breathtaking right from the cello’s passionate opening statement. He was deeply involved in the music, moving seamlessly from a gleaming upper register to the soulful singing of his middle range. Capable of both redolent lyricism and energetic, jagged flourishes, Nicholas’s playing seemed so at home in the venerable Hall. The audience gave him lusty and well-deserved round of applause as he was called back to the stage after his exceptional performance.   

    Robertosierraheadshot

    The chorus then returned to the stage for the concert’s grand finale: the world premiere of Cantares by Roberto Sierra (above), which Cornell University commissioned for this concert in celebration of their 150th anniversary. In this panoramic work, the cultures of the African, Spanish, Native Peruvian, and Aztec peoples are entwined in vivid musical settings of texts dating back to the 16th and 17th centuries. The composer has re-imagined these invocations and narratives for the contemporary world; for this piece, the Cornell choristers leapt readily from Quechua to Spanish.

    A long sustained tone opens Cantares; then, emerging from dark turbulence, the chorus begins to ‘speak’. A trumpet call, a wandering xylophone, a celestial harp, an oddly ominous rattle: these are all heard as kozmic sound-clouds drift by. The music is mystical and – with the under-pacing of rhythmic chant – takes on an other-worldly feeling.

    The second movement evokes African ritual and that continent’s ancient connection to Cuba. The music seems to echo thru time in its heavenly, ecstatic vibrations. Somehow Chausson’s Poeme de l’amour et de la Mer came to mind.

    An orchestral interlude has the flutter of birdsong and a dense-jungle yet transparent appeal and leads into the final Suerte lamentosa, an epic of dueling cultures told from both the winners’ and the losers’ points of view.

    The work is perhaps a trifle too long, but the composer has been successful in drawing us to contemplate the oft-forgotten (or ignored) events surrounding the injection of Christianity into the Western Hemisphere. And musically it’s truly brilliant.

  • The Tempest Songbook @ The Met Museum

    RTRH4C0927 copy

    Above: from THE TEMPEST SONGBOOK, singers Jennifer Zetlan and Thomas Richards, and dancers PeiJu Chien-Pott and Abdiel Jacobsen; photo by Richard Termine. Click on the image to enlarge.

    Saturday March 28th, 2015 – This long-awaited evening proved to be every bit as engrossing as I imagined it would be. Following last season’s stunning production of THE RAVEN, Gotham Chamber Opera’s Neal Goren again called upon choreographer/director Luca Veggetti for THE TEMPEST SONGBOOK, an imaginative fusion of song, dance, and drama performed with unfettered directness of purpose at the Grace Rainey Rogers Auditorium in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

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    Above: from THE TEMPEST SONGBOOK, production photo by Richard Termine

    As in THE RAVEN, this production of THE TEMPEST SONGBOOK is pared down to a sublime simplicity: no sets, no elaborate costumes or cluttered staging: just pure music – excellently played and sung – and sleek, expressive choreography performed by four of the dance world’s most captivating artists. The only element of set decor, aside from a bench, was a large luminous orb suspended over the stage. On its textured surface, Jean-Baptiste Barrière’s dreamlike projections – some of them real-time moving images of the onstage action – created an atmospheric element without detracting from the action of the singers and dancers. The simple, timeless costume designs (Peter Speliopoulos) flattered the wearers and allowed for ease of movement. Clifton Taylor’s lighting at times cast dancing shadows upon the walls.   

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    Above: Thomas Richards, Jennifer Zetlan, and the dancers; photo by Richard Termine

    The score is a felicitous blending of the olde and the new: music attributed to Henry Purcell for a 1712 production of The Tempest has been woven together with the contemporary Finnish composer Kaija Saariaho‘s song cycle The Tempest Songbook in such a persuasive manner that a cohesive new opera has been born. The rhythmic variety and melodic richness of Purcell found a counter-poise in Ms. Saariaho’s sometimes declamatory/sometimes other-worldly vocal settings.

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    Above: Jennifer Zetlan, Abdiel Jacobsen; photo by Richard Termine

    The period instrument ensemble, seated onstage, drew us into this Tempest world immediately with a strikingly resonant prelude. The two singers, Jennifer Zetlan and Thomas Richards, showed consummate musicianship and were able to move effortlessly between the Purcell and Saariaho styles in the twinkling of an ear. Ms. Zetlan, petite and lovely – and possessed of a distinctive vocal energy – can sound girlish one moment and amply dramatic the next whilst Mr. Richards – voluminous of voice yet capable of honing his tone down to long-fading pianissimi with admirable control – was a commanding presence both vocally and physically. Both singers are blessed with crystal-clear diction, making the sub-titles unnecessary; they entered into the action with élan.

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    Above: Thomas Richards, Jennifer Zetlan, Abdiel Jacobsen

    Luca Veggetti has been working frequently with the Martha Graham dancers in the last couple of seasons, and for THE TEMPEST SONGBOOK, four of this incredible Company’s finest were called upon. Ying Xin and Lloyd Mayor were a shadow-couple: totally dressed in black and their faces veiled, they seemed by turns sinister or supportive as they moved deftly about the space in Luca’s unique, trademark maneuvers. My only regret was that their masques withheld their beautiful faces from us…until the curtain calls.

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    Above:Thomas Richards, Abdiel Jacobsen; photo by Richard Termine

    PeiJu Chien-Pott and Abdiel Jacobsen were more of this world; they both danced (and partnered) with the power and commitment that make their Graham performances so impressive. Abdiel used his entire body as an expressive instrument, and his face has a poetic, visionary aspect that makes watching him such a complete pleasure. PeiJu gave an astonishing performance; lithe and elegant of frame and silken of hair, she displayed extraordinary flexibility and a heaven-reaching extension. Her black boots gave her a grounded look, but her dancing soared. All four dancers, indeed, were thoroughly sublime: no wonder the Graham Company holds such an exalted place in my dance pantheon.

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    Above: PeiJu Chien-Pott portrait, from Oberon’s Grove

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    Above: production photo by Richard Termine

    In its Diaghilevian spirit of gathering the muses of music, dance, mime, and art together, Gotham Chamber Opera have given us yet another memorable production. The wondrous silence of the large audience as the work unfolded is testament to the spell cast by this exceptional presentation. Roses and champagne for everyone involved!

  • Verdi REQUIEM at St John the Divine

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    Thursday March 26th, 2015 – Oratorio Society of New York presenting the Verdi REQUIEM at the Cathedral of St John the Divine. This was my second experience of this magnificent work in a sacred setting: many years ago I attended a performance of it in the Chapel at Trinity College, Hartford CT. On that evening, an organ and a small ensemble of instrumentalists played in lieu of a full orchestra, but the work still made a vivid impression. Tonight we had the admirable young musicians of the Manhattan School of Music Orchestra (and their symphonic chorus) joining the Oratorio Society for a full-force rendering of Verdi’s ‘sacred opera’.

    A huge audience – an overflow crowd, actually – filled the cathedral and (except for one cellphone beeping at a particularly inopportune moment) they listened in reverential silence. It was overall a very fine performance of the REQUIEM but sonically it was problematic in that the reverberant echoing throughout the huge space often turned the music into a blur. Much of the music’s definition was lost, and much detail from the inner orchestral voices vanished in the clouds of echo. There was the illusion of notes being played twice, and the music sometimes seemed to be fighting itself.

    Kent Tritle conducted, and a strong quartet of soloists took part:

    Jennifer Check, soprano
    Sara Murphy, mezzo-soprano
    Alex Richardson, tenor
    Matthew Boehler, bass

    These four singers often seemed to me to be swamped by the sound of the orchestra and chorus flowing over them in both directions. How they managed to pick up their cues, I will never know. Nevertheless, there were many savorable vocal passages. Mr. Boehler, who made a fine impression recently in IOLANTA at The Met, projected the text with vivid dynamic detail, and Mr. Richardson sang musically and with passion.

    Sara Murphy, whose opulent mezzo made a marvelous impact when she sang Ligeti and Schnittke with the American Symphony Orchestra earlier this season, was very impressive tonight both for beauty of tone and clarity of projection. So much music I want to hear her sing! 

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    Jennifer Check (above, photo by Brian Hatton), who stepped in to the soprano part rather late in the day, sounded lovely. Her voice has power but also a silvery lyrical quality, and in the Offertorio she produced a spine-tingling sustained piano E-natural (which modulates magically to an E-flat…one of the most felicitous moments in this glorious work). For the great final ‘aria’, Requiem aeternam, Ms. Check closed her score and gave an intense, very personal performance of this prayerful solo; using her right hand in gently expressive gestures, she seemed to send forth a benediction of peace and tranquility.

  • Schubert & Schnittke @ CMS

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    Above: Juho Pohjonen

    Friday March 20th, 2015 – Three outstanding artists joined forces this evening at Alice Tully Hall as Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center presented yet another outstanding programme in their Intimate Expressions series.  Pianist Juho Pohjonen joined violinist Benjamin Beilman for Schubert and cellist Jan Vogler for Schnittke; then all three musicians concluded the performance with Schubert’s trio #1 in B-flat major.

    Despite a late-Winter snowfall and chilling winds, a large audience filled Tully Hall, and it was in a marvelous state of silent anticipation that the listeners opened their hearts and minds to the extraordinary music coming from the stage. This state of mutual communication, where the players can’t help but be aware of the spell they are casting over the Hall, is one of the great pleasures of Chamber Music Society‘s presentations.

    The level of artistry today was extraordinarily high. When Benjamin Beilman and Juho Pojhonen walked onstage we were struck by their youthful appearance and a trace of shyness as they acknowledged the welcoming applause. But as soon as they began to play, their surety of technique and depth of musicality drew us in to their compelling delivery of the opening Schubert. 

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    Above: Benjamin Beilman

    The Schubert Fantasy in C-major (1827) is a long work in seven inter-connected movements and it places extraordinary demands on the violinist while also requiring a pianist who is far more than an accompanist, but rather a partner in expressiveness.

    The extraordinary delicacy of Mr. Pohjonen’s opening measures showed us at once that we were in the presence of a master of dynamic control; the silken seamlessness of his playing was ideally taken up by Mr. Beilman in his opening lyrical flight. As the sonata progresses, the violin’s poignant theme of longing shifts to a dynamic dancelike passage. In a set of variations, Mr. Beilman showed his skill in alternate plucking and bowing, as well as in flourishes of fast fiorature and rolling cascades of melody. A rapturous theme for violin and piano has a heart-rending quality, and soon we return to the still calm of the work’s opening statements. The gallantly graceful pace of the finale lulls into a last evocative slow passage before a dash to the finish. The audience embraced the two young paragons with warm enthusiasm for their savorable performance.

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    Above: Jan Vogler

    Jan Vogler was making his CMS debut today, and a welcome event it was: he took on the the daunting combination of angularity and soulfulness that make the Schnittke sonata so remarkable, and again Mr. Pojhonen at the Steinway was an ideal accomplice.

    Commencing with a rather ominous cello theme, this sonata often has a dreamlike (even nightmarish) sense of mystery. The cellist at one point slithers up and down a snakelike scale passage with a creepiness that evokes thoughts of the eerie prelude to Klytemnestra’s murder in Strauss’s ELEKTRA. In fact, the Schnittke might be said to echo the Strauss opera in its mixture of violence and unexpected flashes of  lyricism. 

    I scrawled several brief notes, not wanting to take my eyes off our intrepid players: “march-like piano”, “rambunctious cello”, “bizarre waltz”, “restless quest”…and then suddenly Mr. Pohjonen lays into the lowest notes of the keyboard to produce a violent sonic boom. He then immediately swirls upward to the highest range, whilst Mr. Vogler takes up a desolate theme. The cello goes to the depths – and such resonant depths – interrupted by an aching/annoying 2-note motif before ending up on a very sustained tone. A brief, mysterious plucked passage before settling back into the deep while the piano creates a soft cloud of starshine in the highest range.

    Let’s have Mr. Vogler back for the second Schnittke sonata, at the earliest opportunity.

    After the interval, the three gentlemen set to a performance of Schubert’s Trio in B flat major, immediately establishing the kind of congenial rapport that makes a great piece of music even greater.

    The trio was probably written in 1827; the original autograph score is lost. It is in four movements, and I can’t imagine a more pleasing rendition than tonight’s with its fusion of the three voices constantly sending those delightful little chills up the spine. The nostalgic theme that opens the Andante expanded into a vivid emotional experience with playing that was subtle and full of nuance. The three gentlemen were in a playful mood for the witty and sparkling Scherzo – with its lovely surprise of a slower interlude – and then moved on to the sprightly dance of the final Rondo, which includes an unusual ‘fluttery’ motif.

    In this trio, the three players showed both graceful dexterity and a mutual desire to draw forth each thread of melody for our delight. Both in programming and in the choice of artists, Chamber Music Society sets the highest standard. I entered Alice Tully Hall tonight with great expectations, only to find they were not simply met, but surpassed. Incredibly, that seems to be the norm here at CMS.

    The Repertory:

    The Participating Artists: Juho Pohjonen (piano); Benjamin Beilman (violin); Jan Vogler (cello)

  • Score Desk for DONNA DEL LAGO

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    Above: Loch Katrine, Scotland – the setting of LA DONNA DEL LAGO

    Saturday February 28th, 2015 matinee – This performance of Rossini’s LA DONNA DEL LAGO was a late addition to my opera plans for the season. The Rossini repertory no longer interests me much, but I thought it might be good to experience one of his operas again in-house, and I’ve always liked Juan Diego Florez, so…why not?

    Back in 1982, I heard Rossini’s LA DONNA DEL LAGO in a concert performance at Carnegie Hall; the principal roles were taken by Frederica von Stade, Marilyn Horne, Rockwell Blake, and Dano Raffanti. It was quite a night. Then in 2007, the New York City Opera staged it with a cast that included fine performances by mezzo-soprano Laura Vlasak Nolen, and tenors Barry Banks and Robert McPherson.

    After taking some cuts in the prelude, conductor Michele Mariotti rushed the opening chorus with some resulting disunity. Someone tried to start entrance applause for Joyce DiDonato, but it didn’t catch on; it might have been the same person who tried to get some applause going after her opening aria, but he ended up with three solo hand-claps.

    It seemed to me today that Elena (the opera’s eponymous heroine and triple love-interest) suits Ms. DiDonato much better than Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda did. She did some genuinely lovely singing – with persuasive coloratura – along the way; a slight flutter in her timbre at low-to-mid volume sometimes intrudes on complete enjoyment of her singing. But overall this is a fine role for her. 

    Juan Diego Florez sang with his usual fluency and expressiveness, tossing off added high notes and blending beautifully with Ms. DiDonato. Fleeting traces of sharpness in the tenor’s singing didn’t detract from the overall handsomeness of his vocalism, I should have stayed to hear the luminous aria “O fiamma soave” in Act II, but I didn’t.

    I can recall the favorable impression Daniela Barcellona made singing Maddalena in RIGOLETTO at a special all-Verdi concert performance which The Met offered on September 22, 2001, as a benefit for the families of 9/11 first responders. She subsequently sang Bellini’s Adalgisa twice at The Met (also in 2001), and has since had an extensive career in Europe. Her return to The Met as Rossini’s Malcolm Groeme was a main factor in my decision to go to today’s matinee, but alas her voice now shows a widening vibrato – and a quick look at her bio shows the telltale reasons: Amneris and Santuzza are not roles one would think of for her type of voice, and once ventured it is not easy to switch back to bel canto. She had some beautiful low notes today, and managed the coloratura quite well. But sustained notes revealed an unsteady quality.

    John Osborn (Rodrigo di Dhu) pricked up our ears and perked up the performance with his powerful forays to the top register and the overall conviction of his singing. It is not the most ingratiating tenor sound you will hear, but he knows what to do with it in this demanding music, Oren Gradus, though not a bel canto specialist, did what he could with the role of Duglas D’Angus.

    Musically, the opera moves in fits and starts. A ravishing melody or brilliant passages of fiorature will be followed by rum-ti-tum filler. Rossini’s idea of introducing a solo harp into the Act I finale stirs our interest, but the vocal melody that follows in pedestrian. This is followed by a jog-trot stretta to end the act.

    It it hadn’t been for the looming Gelb intermission, I would most likely have stayed on to hear that Florez cavatina in Act II. The house was reasonably full and very attentive, but I did notice several fellow-defectors after the first act.

    Metropolitan Opera House
    February 28, 2015 Matinee

    LA DONNA DEL LAGO
    Gioachino Rossini

    Elena...................Joyce DiDonato
    Giacomo V/Uberto........Juan Diego Flórez
    Malcolm Groeme..........Daniela Barcellona
    Rodrigo Di Dhu..........John Osborn
    Duglas..................Oren Gradus
    Albina..................Olga Makarina
    Serano..................Eduardo Valdes
    Bertram.................Gregory Schmidt

    Conductor...............Michele Mariotti