Category: Opera

Score Desk for LA BOHEME

Tuesday September 23rd, 2014 – After a touch-and-go Summer of contract negotiations where – at one point – it seemed inevitable that there would be a lock-out at the Metropolitan Opera, the shut-down was miraculously averted and The Met opened last night with a new production of LE NOZZE DI FIGARO. The casting of the three major female roles in the Mozart opera didn’t appeal to me, so I skipped it and started my season on the second night.

The house seemed fuller than on most evenings last season, perhaps an indication that New York City opera-goers prefer traditional productions. And yes, curtain-rise on Franco Zeffirelli’s Cafe Momus still evokes a big round of applause.

Admittedly tonight’s cast, on paper, didn’t have much allure. The Met seem to be putting all their eggs in one basket this first week: the singers aligned for MACBETH (Netrebko, Lucic, Calleja, Pape) are about the closest you can come to an all-star cast in this day and age. Friends asked me why I bothered with this BOHEME and as the curtain fell on the Cafe Momus scene I in fact asked myself why I was there.

Bryan Hymel in the role of Rodolfo was the main attraction for me tonight; his impressive performances in LES TROYENS and MADAMA BUTTERFLY drew me back to hear him in this, his second Puccini role at The Met. He did not seem at his best tonight though there were many appealing moments in his singing of the role. He was not much helped by conductor Riccardo Frizza who tended to unleash too much orchestral volume at key moments. Hymel’s account of the famous aria “Che gelida manina” was nice, and he sustained the high-C to fine effect despite the conductor’s overdrive of volume. At the end of the big Cafe Momus ensemble, the two sopranos were perched none-too-sweetly on their high-B when Hymel chimed in on the same note and gave the climax the necessary zest.

Neither of the women were very pleasing to the ear. Ekaterina Scherbachenko (Mimi) lacked a persuasive feeling for the Italian style and didn’t bring a lot of nuance or colour to Mimi’s Act I narrative. When she ventured to the upper register, an uncomfortable feeling set in. Oddly, she did not attempt the written high-C at the end of the love duet; instead she sang an E-natural whilst Mr. Hymel sustained a high-C. This put me in mind of the 1968 Met broadcast of BUTTERFLY where Teresa Stratas ducked the final high-C of Act I, leaving her tenor Barry Morell to finish on his own.

Myrto Papatanasiu revealed a dime-a-dozen overly-vibrant lyric soprano as Musetta, snatching at her interjectory phrases until she got to the Waltz which was reasonably well-sung despite rather shallow tone. I don’t suppose we’ll ever again experience a Musetta the likes of Carol Neblett or Johanna Meier: big voices and big personalities.

The evening’s most impressive singing came from baritone Quinn Kelsey (above, in a Ken Howard headshot) as Marcello. This is a Met-sized voice for sure and I got a vast amount of pleasure listening to him nail Marcello’s music, phrase after phrase. I would have liked to have heard him in the third and fourth acts where the character has so much great music to sing, but the overall lack of magic in the evening sent me home after Momus. I hope The Met will give Quinn Kelsey more opportunities.

Of the remaining members of the cast, no one managed to make a special impression. The children’s chorus deserve a note of praise.

There’s nothing wrong with taking curtain calls after each act provided the audience is displaying sufficient enthusiasm to summon the singers out before the gold curtain. After both of the first two acts tonight, the applause had completely stopped but the bow lights came on and the singers came out, forcing people to clap for them out of a sense of obligation. I understand that the bows are ‘scripted’ into the performance but someone needs to determine whether there is any applause happening before sending the singers out.

Metropolitan Opera House September 23, 2014
LA BOHÈME Giacomo Puccini Mimì....................Ekaterina Scherbachenko Rodolfo.................Bryan Hymel Musetta.................Myrtò Papatananasiu [Debut] Marcello................Quinn Kelsey Schaunard...............Alexey Lavrov Colline.................David Soar Benoit..................Donald Maxwell Alcindoro...............Donald Maxwell Parpignol...............Daniel Clark Smith Sergeant................Jason Hendrix Officer.................Joseph Turi
Conductor...............Riccardo Frizza

September 23, 2014
Yin Yue/Jiangxi Zhongshan Dance School

Sunday September 21st, 2014 – Yin Yue Dance Company and students from China’s Jiangxi Zhongshan Dance School shared the stage at Peridance this afternoon in a programme that combined the contemporary with the classical in an East-Meets-West cultural dialogue.

Yin Yue is an award-winning Shanghai-born choreographer who graduated from Tisch, New York University. For this event, she summoned a contingent of dancers from the Jiangxi Zhongshan Dance School, a private professional dance school located in Nanchang, Jiangxi Province, China, who have arrived in New York City, bringing traditional Chinese classical/contemporary and folk dance as they meet the New York audience for the first time.

The programme was well-devised to contrast the two styles: the young women from Nanchang performed in colourful, elaborate costumes while Yin Yue’s dancers appeared in stark settings and casual contemporary streetwear. The two companies alternated throughout the afternoon.

The student company opened the show with a brilliant and festive piece Gan Yun You You in which elements of Chinese opera were featured. Later – in Spring Ballet – the girls danced on pointe in long pink tutus to the voice of a pop-oriented coloratura soprano. A quartet of solos – each dancer in red-highlighted costumes – went on a bit too long. Then Qinghua Rhyme was danced on pointe to a pop beat, while an Arabian Nights atmosphere pervaded Blossom: the girls all wearing red harem-style costumes and each carrying a red rose. Nuo Dance, the afternoon’s concluding work, featured the dancers wearing masks. At the end, a baby was delivered and he started to cry. Throughout their peformance, the dancers from the Jiangxi Zhongshan School showed surprising maturity of presentation and seemed thoroughly at home on the stage.

Yin Yue and her fellow dancers – Liane Aung, Grace Whitworth, and Luke Bermingham – performed five works, ranging from quartets to a solo by Mr. Bermingham. Yin Yue’s choreography is strong and sure; she makes excellent use of space and lighting and she persuasively employs partnering and passages of dancing in-sync. Her strongest work was the solo for Mr. Bermingham – One Step Before The Exit – which seemed to express the loneliness of contemporary life and a (thwarted) desire to connect.

Yin Yue’s undoubted gift for impressive dramatic movement is somewhat compromised by a lack of variety in her choice of music. Everything seems to be danced to a beat overlain in darkly throbbing industrial noise and/or static. The vaguely ominous atmosphere created by this type of music – so favored by many of today’s younger choreographers – becomes a cliché after a while. A bit of Chopin, alluded to in the playbill, never materialized. In taking a wider view of musical possibilities, I believe the choreographer will find ever-expanding avenues of expression.

September 21, 2014
Isadora: Lament, Hope, and Renewal

Wednesday September 17th, 2014 – Lori Belilove and the Isadora Duncan Dance Company presented an evening of film, live performance and discussion in an intimate salon setting at the Company’s home space on West 26th Street. A few days after marking the anniversary of Isadora’s untimely death (on September 14th, 1927), Lori and her Company keep the spirit of ‘the mother of modern dance’ vividly alive.

For me, this week brought the unusual happenstance of back-to-back evenings of Martha Graham and Isadora Duncan. These two pioneering forces on the frontiers of modern dance seem to me to be twin goddesses: from them, so many blessings flow – even onto the present day.

Central to this Isadora evening was the showing of a silent film clip of brief fragments from Dance of the Priestesses, a ‘lost’ Duncan work. This film, made in 1963, features extremely rare footage of Anna Duncan, one of the original Isadorables. In the film, Anna dances with Julia Levien and Hortense Kooluris, two women who were the teachers of Lori Belilove: thus the direct line of passing the torch from generation to generation is maintained.

The film was entrusted to Lori Belilove and it inspired her to embark on a restoration of Dance of the Priestesses which, until now, had been little more than a legend. The dance is set to music by Christoph Willibald von Gluck from his opera IPHIGENIE EN TAURIDE. In the film, Anna, Julia and Hortense show a wonderful weighted quality. Lori was able to impart this to the dancers of her current Company and, after viewing the film, we were treated to a beautiful live rendering of the piece. Lori has set it for five women (Isadora’s ensemble works can be danced by small or large contingents of dancers). The girls looked stately in their midnight-blue gowns, with Morgana Rose Mellett in a prominent role and Kim D’Agnese, Emily D’Angelo, Faith Kimberling, and Nicole Poulos as her sister/priestesses. Their performance evoked the ancient gods and the mythic rituals of times long vanished.

Also on film, we saw a full performance of Slow March (photo above) as performed by the Company last May.

Isadora created danceworks in several moods, stemming from her mental state at the time of creation. Joyous, celebratory dances gave way to dark, lamenting themes following the death of her two children. Lori Belilove performed two of these despairing solos tonight: Death and The Maiden (set to Chopin) and Mother (set to Scriabin). The mood was brightened by two Chopin mazurkas danced by Mlles. D’Agnese, Mellett, Kimberling and D’Angelo in signature pink-and-white Grecian tunics. Lori and the four girls joined in an extended finale: Dance of the Blessed Spirits and Orpheus’ Lament, both drawn from themes from Gluck’s opera ORFEO ED EURIDICE.

Pianist Melody Fader played all the selections for the evening, an enhancement to the atmosphere of the performance.

Watching the dances this evening, I couldn’t help but think that today’s young choreographers could benefit greatly in studying Isadora’s work. In terms of musicality, structure and creation of mood, Isadora’s instincts always seem spot-on. As dancer Miki Orihara wrote in her notes for her recent solo concert, we may look into the future of dance by investigating the past.

September 17, 2014
Finding Isadora’s ‘DANCE OF THE PRIESTESSES’

Above: dancers Morgana Rose Mellett and Emily D’Angelo of the Isadora Duncan Dance Company

Friday August 29th, 2014 – Today I went down to the Gibney Dance Center where friends of the Isadora Duncan Dance Company had been invited to an intimate studio session in anticipation of the upcoming renewal of a ‘lost’ Duncan work, DANCE OF THE PRIESTESSES.

Lori Belilove, artistic director of the Company, welcomed us and then told the story of how DANCE OF THE PRIESTESSES has miraculously re-surfaced after several decades of being nothing more than a bit of legend.

There had been talk of a film of the work having been made in 1963 and featuring one of the original Isadorables, Anna (Denzler) Duncan. Incredibly the film surfaced and was presented to Lori by some benevolent angel. Lori set to work with her dancers to re-construct the piece, and we will be able to see it danced both on the film and live at a presentation at the Gibney Dance Center on September 17th, 2014, at 6:30 PM. Further details of this event will be forthcoming.

The dancework is drawn from the story of Iphigenia, daughter of Agamemnon, who was rescued from her fate as a human sacrifice by the goddess Artemis. Iphigenia becomes a priestess at the temple of Artemis in Tauris, a position in which she has the gruesome task of ritually sacrificing any foreigners who land on that kingdom’s shores. Iphigenia is eventually confronted with the necessity of sacrificing her long-lost brother Orestes but that horrific duty is averted by the intercession of the goddess Athena.

The story was immortalized in Christoph Willibald von Gluck’s gorgeous opera, IPHIGENIE EN TAURIDE. And it is to Gluck’s music that DANCE OF THE PRIESTESSES is performed.

After providing us with this background, Lori asked each of us to cross our hands over our sternum and to breathe deeply; we can immediately sense our own center and the connectedness of the entire body. Her dancers then demonstrate some of the exercises with which they warm up: similar to a ballet barre, and yet the movement emanates from the torso rather than being guided by the limbs.

The dancers looked so beautiful doing these deceptively ‘simple’ exercises which actually call for great concentration and control. The movement has a slow and ecstatic quality as the wheel-like flow of the arms, radiating from the sternum, reach down to the Earth and then soars skyward.

Having shown us these stylistic elements, the dancers then performed a brief passage from DANCE OF THE PRIESTESSES. The ritualistic pouring of the libation oil and the stately pacing of the celebrants, arms opening in eloquent gestures of offering and supplication, create a timeless atmosphere of feminine power and beauty.

The dancers – Kim D’Agnese, Faith Kimberling, Emily D’Angelo, and Morgana Rose Mellett – each have distinguishing physical characteristics which maintain their individuality even when dancing in unison. Watching them was a truly savorable experience.

I’m hoping to see a rehearsal of the full work prior to the Gibney showing on September 17th.

Watch a brief film clip of Anna Duncan performing at Jacob’s Pillow in 1942 here.

August 29, 2014
At Home With Wagner VI

Wagnerian afternoons in the Summer: from the Bayreuth Festival 1961 comes the prologue and first act of GOTTERDAMMERUNG featuring Birgit Nilsson at her most marvelous. Conducted by Rudolf Kempe, the performance generates tremendous excitement, most notably in the thrilling build-up to the Dawn Duet. Nilsson unleashes her patented lightning-bolt top notes, and hearing her on this form reminds me of my first encounters with her live at The Met where in 1966 she sang a series of Turandots that were simply electrifying.

The performance is very fine all around, opening with a thoroughly absorbing Norn Scene which begins with the richly expressive singing of contralto Elisabeth Schärtel (above) followed soon after by the equally impressive Grace Hoffman. It’s rather surprising to find Regine Crespin singing the Third Norn. She had made a huge success at Bayreuth in 1958 as Kundry, and had repeated that role at the next two festivals. In 1961 she was invited back to the Green Hill for Sieglinde, and thus she was able to take on the Norn as part of her summer engagement. She sings beautifully, with her distinctive timbre, though there is a trace of tension in her highest notes.

Above: Birgit Nilsson; we used to refer to her as “The Great White Goddess” or simply “The Big B”. The thrilling accuracy and power of her singing here, as well as her ability to create a character thru vocal means, is breath-taking.

Hans Hopf is a fine match for Nilsson in the Dawn Duet; he is less persuasive later on when his singing seems a bit casual. Wilma Schmidt (Gutrune) and the always-excellent Thomas Stewart (Gunther) make vocally strong Gibichungs, and the great Wagnerian basso Gottlob Frick is a dark-toned Hagen with vivid sense of duplicity and menace. Rudolf Kempe again shows why he must be rated very high among the all-time great Wagner conductors: his sense of grandeur and ideal pacing set him in the highest echelon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gerhard Stolze (above) is the Loge in a RHEINGOLD from the Bayreuth Festival 1964; I have a special love for Mr. Stolze in this role as he was my first Loge – at The Met on February 22, 1968, a broadcast performance conducted by Herbert von Karajan and my first experience of a RING opera live. Here at Bayreuth, as later at The Met, Stolze brings a wonderfully debauched, almost greasy vocal quality to the vain, spoiled demi-god. The voice is large and effortlessly penetrating, but he can also be tremendously subtle: after screaming “Durch raub!’ (‘By theft!”) when Wotan asks Loge how the Rhinegold might be acquired, Stoltze goes all lyrical as he says: “What a thief stole may be stolen from the thief…” this is but one of Stotze’s countless brilliant passages in the course of his portrayal. At Nibelheim and later, as Loge taunts the captured Alberich, Stolze is simply superb.

Two other singers who appeared in my Met/Karajan RHEINGOLD are also heard in this Bayreuth performance: Theo Adam has a big, burly voice and sings imposingly if not always with a lot of tonal allure. His Wotan builds steadily throughout the opera to an imposing rendering of Wotan’s greeting to Valhalla and the entire final scene. Zoltán Kelemen is a splendid Alberich; his handsome baritone sound sometimes shines thru in what is essentially a dramatic character role. Power and calculation mark his traversal of the first scene; later, in Nibelheim, Kelemen is wonderfully subtle. Having been tricked by Loge and kidnapped, he’s truly fabulous as he summons his slaves to bring the treasure up as ransom for his freedom. Later, having lost everything, his crushing sense of vulnerability gives way to a violent hurling of the curse at Wotan.

Above: Zoltán Kelemen as Alberich

Grace Hoffman is a capital Fricka, bringing verbal urgency and vocal attractiveness to her every line, most expressive as she draws Wotan back to her after Erda’s intervention. Jutta Meyfarth, a very interesting Sieglinde on the 1963 Bayreuth WALKURE conducted by Rudolf Kempe, is too stentorian and overpowering as Freia, a role which – for all its desperation – needs lyricism to really convince. Hans Hopf, ever a stalwart heldentenor, probably should not have tried Froh at this point in his career: he sounds too mature. Marcel Cordes is a muscular-sounding Donner; there is an enormous thunderclap to punctuate Donner’s “Heda! Hedo!”

The estimable contralto Marga Höffgen brings a real sense of mystery to Erda’s warning. Gottlob Frick is a vocally impressive Fasolt, his scene of despair at giving up Freia is genuinely awesome. Peter Roth-Ehrang (Fafner) and Erich Klaus (Mime) are names quite unknown to me; the basso is a bit blustery but has the right feeling of loutishness. Herr Klaus is a first-class Mime, with his doleful singing in the Nibelheim scene giving way to a fine mix of dreamy dementia and raw power as he tells Loga and Wotan of his dwarvish despair. Barbara Holt as Woglinde plucks some high notes out of the air; Elisabeth Schwarzenberg and the excellent Sieglinde Wagner as her sister Rhinemaidens.

Berislav Klobucar (above), who conducted 21 Wagner performances at The Met in 1968 (including taking over WALKURE from Herbert von Karajan when the latter withdrew from his half-finished RING Cycle for The Met) opens this RHEINGOLD with a turbulent prelude. Klobucar has an excellent feel for the span of the opera, for the intimacy of the conversational scenes, and for the sheer splendour of the opera’s finale.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Above: a Günther Schneider-Siemssen design for the Herbert von Karajan Salzburg Festival production of the RING Cycle, 1967.

Thinking of my Karajan/RHEINGOLD introduction to the RING at The Met in 1968 caused me to next take up the conductor-director’s complete WALKURE and GOTTERDAMMERUNG from the 1967 Salzburg Festival where his production of the Cycle originated. Of course, he only ended up conducting RHEINGOLD and WALKURE at The Met though the two remaining operas were staged there in his absence, with the productions credited to him. The settings remained in use at The Met thru 1981, and then the Otto Schenk production commenced in 1986.

I must admit to never having listened to Karajan’s commercial RING Cycle (maybe a few random scenes but never any of the complete operas); it’s simply one of those inexplicable sins of omission which all opera lovers must eventually confess to. Maybe someday I will get around to it, though I’m so taken up with all these live RING recordings that Opera Depot keep tempting us with.

At any rate, I must say I don’t much care for Karajan’s first act of WALKURE, at least not as it was performed at Salzburg in 1967. It feels to me terribly slow and overly polite. Gundula Janowitz and Jon Vickers seem much of the time to be vocally walking on eggshells: they whisper and croon gently to one another and the lifeblood seems to drain out of the music. Martti Talvela is his usual excellent self as Hunding; once he has gone to bed, Vickers commences a properly reflective sword monologue (the first orchestral interjection of the Sword motif ends on a cracked note). The tenor is stunning in his prolonged cries of “Wälse! Wälse!”, and then comes Janowitz’s ” Der Männer Sippe” which is verbally alert but there’s a slight tension in her upper notes and a feeling of being a bit over-parted. They sing very successfully thru the familiar “Winterstürme” and “Du bust der Lenz” all filled with attractive vocalism but Karajan maintains a rather stately pacing thru to end end of the act: there’s no impetus, no sense of being overwhelmed by sexual desire. Actually I found it all somewhat boring, and my mind tended to wander.

A complete volte face for Act II, one of the finest renderings of this long and powerful act that I have ever encountered. Karajan launches the prelude, weaving together the various motifs, and Thomas Stewart unfurls Wotan’s opening lines commandingly. Regine Crespin’s sings a spirited “Ho-Jo-To-Ho!” and then Fricka arrives on the scene…

…in the marvelous person of Christa Ludwig (Louis Melançon photo, above). When people ask me, “Who was the greatest singer you ever heard?” I invariably reply “Christa Ludwig” even though on a given day the memory of some other voice might seem to rival her. But in everything I have heard from her, both live and on recordings, Ludwig seems to have the ideal combination of a highly personal timbre, natural and effortless technical command, a remarkably even range, phenomenal abilities as a word-colorist, and overwhelming warmth and beauty of sound. Her Fricka here is magnificent in every way, and so supremely Christa.

The scene between Fricka and Wotan is so impressive, yet incredibly Thomas Stewart (above, with Karajan) goes on to surpass himself with one of the most thrilling and spine-tingling renderings of Wotan’s monolog that I have ever experienced. Stewart vocally displays every nuance of the god’s emotional state as he confides in his daughter, first in his long ‘historical’ narrative which grumbles and whispers its way into our consciousness. Crespin is an ideal listener, her beauteously sung queries lead her father to divulge more and more. Soon Stewart is pouring out both his vanity and despair; the temperature is at the boiling point when he reaches “Das ende! Das ende!”, overcome by tears of anguish. Instructing Brunnhilde to honor Fricka’s cause and defend Hunding in the impending fight, Stewart crushes Crespin’s protests with a furiously yelled “Siegmund falle!” (“Siegmund must die! That is the Valkyrie’s task!”) and he storms away. I had to stop at this point; Stewart’s performance had both moved and shaken me and I wanted to pause and reflect.

As beautifully as Crespin and Vickers sing the ‘Todesverkundigung’ (Annunciation of Death), the scene does not quite generate the mysterious atmosphere that I want to experience here. Thomas Stewart’s snarling “Geh!” as he send Hunding to his fate is a fabulous exclamation mark to end the act.

Act III opens and there is some very erractic singing from the Valkyries in terms of pitch and verbal clarity. Crespin’s top betrays a sense of effort in her scene with Sieglinde, and Janowitz’s voice doesn’t really bloom in Sieglinde’s ecstatic cry ” O hehrstes Wunder!” Thomas Stewart hurls bold vocal thunderbolts about as he lets his anger pour out on Brunnhilde and her sisters.

And then at last the stage is cleared for the great father-daughter final scene. Crespin is at her very best here, singing mid-range for the most part and with some really exquisite, expressive piano passages. Only near the end, when the music takes her higher, does the tendency to flatness on the upper notes seem to intrude. Stewart is impressive throughout. Karajan takes the scene a bit on the slow side, but it works quite well.

It should be noted that the voice of the prompter sometimes is heard on this recording, especially in Act I.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Above: Karl Ridderbusch, who sang Hagen in the 1967 Salzburg Festival RING Cycle.

Herbert von Karajan’s GOTERDAMMERUNG, from the Salzburg Festival 1970, starts off with a very fine Norn Scene. Lili Chookasian – after a few warm-up measures – and Caterina Ligendza are authetically Wagnerian as the first and third sisters, with the resplendent Christa Ludwig luxuriously cast as the 2nd Norn. Her superb vocalism is marked by a great lieder-singer’s colourings of the text.

Helga Dernesch and Jess Thomas give a sturdily-sung rendition of the Dawn duet. Though Dernesch’s highest notes seem somewhat tense, she does sustain a solid high-C at the duet’s conclusion. Karl Ridderbusch is a potent Hagen, able to bring out a softer grain to the tone when he wants to. His sound is somewhat baritonal, but he still hits the lowest notes with authority. Thomas Stewart is an outstanding Gunther, a role that often loses face as the opera progresses. Gundula Janowitz is not my idea of a good Gutune: she sound mature and a bit tired.

Christa Ludwig’s Waltraute is a performance of the highest calibre; her superb musicality wedded to her acute attentiveness to the words make this scene the highlight of the performance. Dernesch is good here also, but both she and Jess Thomas seem to flag a bit in vocal energy in the rape scene.

Act II opens with another of my favorite RING scenes: Alberich (Zoltán Kelemen) appears to his son Hagen (Karl Ridderbusch). Kelemen, so musical in the 1964 Klobucar RHEINGOLD reviewed above, here resorts to sprechstimme and all manner of vocal ‘effects’: I wonder if this is what Karajan wanted, or is this simply what the baritone came up with. Ridderbush sings much of Hagen’s music here in an appropriately dreamy half-voice. A bit later he turns on the power with his “Hoi ho!”, summoning the vassals; the men’s chorus lung it lustily in response. Despite the continued feeling of effort behind Helga Dernesch’s high notes, she hits them and holds them fair and square. Jess Thomas sounds a bit tired as Siegfried; though he manages everything without any slip-ups, the voice just seems rather weary. Gundula Janowitz’s Gutrune is much better in Act II than earlier in Act I, and Thomas Stewart’s Gunther transforms what is sometimes viewed as a ‘secondary’ role into a major vocal force in this performance.

I had high hopes for the opening scene of Act III: the Rhinemaidens – Liselotte Rebmann, Edda Moser, and Anna Reynolds are all fine singers. Yet they don’t quite achieve a pleasing blend. Jess Thomas sounds brassy and one keeps thinking he might have a vocal collapse, but he stays the course. It is left to Dernesch to be the performance’s saving grace and she nearly accomplishes it: the sense of vocal strain is successfully masked for the most part and she hits and sustains the high notes successfully though it’s clear she is happier singing lower down; she did in fact become a highly successful dramatic mezzo in time. Dernesch gives the Immolation Scene a tragic dimension, and then Karajan sweeps thru the long orchestral postlude with a sense of epic grandeur.

Overall, Karajan’s GOTTERDAMMERUNG is impressive to hear. Were Helga Dernesch and Jess Thomas thoroughly at ease vocally the overall performance would have been quite spectacular. As it is, it’s Christa Ludwig, Thomas Stewart, and Karl Ridderbusch who make this a memorable Twilight of the Gods.

August 28, 2014
My First RING Cycle: WALKURE

Above: Dame Gwyneth Jones

A week-long RING Cycle invariably involves RHEINGOLD on Monday night followed immediately by WALKURE on Tuesday. This places heavy demands on the gentleman singing Wotan; he has a lot of singing to do on Monday and even more (much more) on Tuesday. Fricka also appears in both operas, but her role in RHEINGOLD – though major – is not especially demanding, and in WALKURE she has only one scene: quite a strenuous one vocally, but once it’s over she is finished for the night. Fortunately the Wotan in my first Cycle, Hans Sotin, managed the back-to-back operas superbly. And Helga Dernesch’s Fricka was a thrilling interpretation.

WALKURE brings four new characters to the drama: Brunnhilde, Sieglinde, Siegmund and Hunding. With Dame Gwyneth Jones’s first appearance as Brunnhilde in Act II, this RING Cycle – already off to such an impressive start – soared into the stratosphere.

Here’s my diary entry from the second night of the Cycle:

“WALKURE – excellent despite some audience distractions. Levine and the orchestra do wonders with this score. The cast was really fabulous, though I had mixed feelings about the Siegmund of Robert Schunk. He looked well, sang and phrased in a musicianly manner; he had the right feel for the role and – for the most part – more than enough volume. He tended, however, to sing just a shade flat much of the time. Too bad…he tried hard and he did have his moments.

Everyone else was on peak form. Matti Salminen gave a tremendous Hunding, rolling out the tone with tremendous force and simply smacking of evil…really menacing sound and thoroughly convincing as an actor: his long, deadly stare at Siegmund after man-handling his wife was such a provocation (Siegmund, weaponless at this point, is in no posotion to respond). Salminen continues my great line of Hundings – Rundgren, Haugland, Moll, Macurdy – and he’s such a fascinating artist.

We have a wonderful new Wagnerian soprano in Mechthild Gessendorf (above) who, if this performance is any indication of her abilities, is a fine addition to the operatic gallery. Her bright, almost girlish tone has a clear middle range with top notes that can be clean-attacked or slightly scooped-up to: they are exciting! Oddly, she reminds me a bit of Mara Zampieri though I can’t put my finger on why! She gave a glorious Sieglinde, full of feminine warmth and real emotional commitment; I look forward to her Kaiserin and Senta.

Helga Dernesch’s Fricka proved spellbinding, sung with great authority and vocal power; the slight peril in the upper range was overcome by force and she simply did a magnificent job. The drama of her plea was put across with an awesome balance of of security and desperation: really engrossing. And she looked gorgeous…a splendid assumption of the role.

Hans Sotin’s Wotan was given with great vocal command and heartrending dramatic sureness. He was in excellent voice, giving a truly impressive monolog and ending Act II with a furious “Geh!” to Hunding who crashed to the ground at the god’s irate command. Singing gloriously, Sotin came thru with much moving and beautfully modulated vocalism in the third act, and he triumphantly sustained the top notes of his final phrase to majestc effect…bravississimo!!!!

It was a great pleasure to see Dame Gwyneth Jones on the Met stage again: still unsure of how she would sound, she nevertheless is an arresting physical presence. But as soon as she began to sing, it was clear we were in for a thrilling Brunnhilde: her great personal and vocal radiance set its stamp on the entire evening. She is a very different Brunnhilde from Behrens, more feminine and less complicated. She offered a spectacular battle cry, sustaining the clear-attack high-C and thereafter she simply went at it vocally all evening, with powerful and moving singing in the ‘Todesverkundigung‘ where she well portrayed Brunnhilde’s increasing embarrassment at the deceitful way Wotan has treated Siegmund. Jones’s third act was wonderful in every regard, with a movingly intoned “War es so schmählich” and increasing desperation as she begs Wotan to spare her degradation. Her final plea – to surround her slumbering place with magic fire – literally tore at the heart. The sheer size of Dame Gwyneth’s voice is such a treat at The Met, and her occassional wooziness and a couple of oddly pronounced words (“Siegfried” in her Act III address to Sieglinde somehow became “Augfried”) were just trifles compared to the great flood of warm, emotional power she generates. Simply great!! And she looks marvelous…great legs! So, a really remarkable evening with huge ovations for all and a particular hurricane of applause for Dame Gwyneth. A grand night!!!”

Metropolitan Opera House May 2, 1989
DIE WALKÜRE Wagner Brünnhilde..............Gwyneth Jones Siegmund................Robert Schunk Sieglinde...............Mechthild Gessendorf Wotan...................Hans Sotin Fricka..................Helga Dernesch Hunding.................Matti Salminen Gerhilde................Pyramid Sellers Grimgerde...............Wendy Hillhouse Helmwige................Marita Napier Ortlinde................Adriana La Ganke Rossweisse..............Judith Christin Schwertleite............Sondra Kelly Siegrune................Diane Kesling Waltraute...............Joyce Castle
Conductor...............James Levine

July 28, 2014
My First RING Cycle: RHEINGOLD

Above: A scene from DAS RHEINGOLD, in the Met’s classic Otto Schenk production; photo by Ken Howard

A quarter-century has passed since I first experienced a complete performance of Wagner’s RING DES NIBELUNGEN as the composer intended it to be seen: over the course of a single week. In fact, though I had seen all the RING operas previously and would see them many times again since, this 1989 Cycle has been the only time to date that I attended a “RING Week”.

I was living in Hartford, Connecticut at that point in time, frequently spending long weekends in NYC to attend opera and ballet performances. My friend Paul Reid and I had decided to attended a Met RING Cycle at the end of the 1988-1989 season. There would be a Saturday matinee Cycle plus two week-long Cycles; we were determined to do a RING Week. So when the casting came out, we quickly decided on the ‘second cast’: we had seen the Hildegard Behrens/James Morris combination in previous performances of the individual operas and they were slated for the first weekly Cycle (as well as the Saturday matinee broadcast Cycle). The second weekly Cycle boasted not only a different Brunnhilde (Eva Marton) and Wotan (Hans Sotin) but ‘new’ and different casting of several prominent roles: William Johns (Siegfried), Franz Mazura (Alberich), Helga Dernesch (Fricka/Waltraute), Mechthild Gessendorf (Sieglinde), and Gweneth Bean (Erda). James Levine of course was conducting every Cycle.

We ordered our tickets, and then a cast change was announced: Eva Marton had withdrawn and would be replaced by Deborah Polaski. This gave us pause, since at the time neither of us were admirers of Ms. Polaski. We fretted a bit, but it was too late to switch to another Cycle (they had all sold out very quickly). Then came another announcement: Ms. Polaski had withdrawn and the Brunnhilde would now be Dame Gwyneth Jones. We were not thrilled with this announcement either, since Dame Gwyneth had at that time something of a reputation for wobbling vocally. It wasn’t until she appeared onstage for Act II of WALKURE that our concerns were allayed: she was magnificent in every regard.

In the days leading up to our Cycle, anticipation built and built. Concerns about leaving my young lover Kenny on his own for a week were swept aside as the idea of seeing the RING in toto was about to become reality. Paul and I had booked (separate) rooms at the Colonial House on West 22nd. I had stayed there several times in recent seasons: a very comfortable and affordable gay guest house. I was leading a promiscuous life then (despite being in a relationship) and the wonderful thing about the Colonial House was: it was hook-up heaven. There was no need to go to a bar or club: there were always men who were ready, willing and able staying at the House. The roof deck, which offered nude sun-bathing, was especially conducive to socializing.

May 1st finally arrived; Paul and I checked in at the Colonial and geared up for our big operatic adventure.

Here’s what I wrote about the RHEINGOLD in my diary:

“I am finally seeing the complete RING Cycle in the course of a single week which fulfills a long-held operatic desire. The opening RHEINGOLD was a wonderful evening and set forth high expectations for the evenings to come. Levine’s skillful conducting and the excellent playing of the Met orchestra were a major factor in this magnificent Wagnerian evening. The production is visually engrossing, especially the opening scene in the murky depths of the Rhine. Casting was strong all down the line, with a very fine trio of Rhinemaidens (Diane Kesling stood out, and Kaaren Erickson and Meredith Parsons were both very good…though I did feel they gave a bit too much vibrato at times).

Franz Mazura (above) as Alberich arrived on the scene and seized our imagination with his huge, thrustingly creepy voice, full of darkest intent. He was a fabulous Alberich, tireless in his vocal and dramatic commitment. Could this bizarre creature be more powerfully portrayed? Mazura’s generous artistry assured his huge success in the role: he made the character seem so real.

Above: the Lord of This RING: Hans Sotin. He was in top form for a really impressive Wotan, immediately showing his vocal authority in his opening conversation with Fricka. His voice – large and steady and even from top notes down to the depths – created a real sense of majesty. [Sotin, as it turns out, sang his final Met Wotans in these performances].

Helga Dernesch (above): her fascinating voice and truly intense emotional involvement brought Fricka to life – incredibly powerful, with her deep lower voice and somewhat insecure top which curiously adds to her appeal.

Her siblings were Gary Bachlund as Froh, revealing an embryonic heldentenor of some warmth; James Courtney as a sturdy Donner; and Mari-Anne Häggander, who made a great deal out of Freia’s brief role with her vulnerable appearance and full, clear lyric soprano.

The giants were especially good: John Macurdy’s voice (Fasolt) sounded huge, and Matti Salminen (Fafner) let his oily tones roll out with great dramatic force – super! Horst Hiestermann was a vivid Mime, but I found Graham Clark’s Loge did a bit too much prancing physically; and I guess I prefer more heldentenorish sound in the role, though Clark surely did sing musically and with clarity and good carrying power. Gweneth Bean’s large, rich voice created a really glorious impression as Erda – she just poured the tone out!

At the end, a very enthusiastic reception for everyone – especially Bean, Dernesch, and Levine. Very exciting inaugural night of my RING! There were many moments when chills passed thru me: a sensation that is not often experienced at the opera these days. Mazura in particular thrilled me in this way with his theft of the gold and again as he placed his curse on the Ring. So exciting!”

Metropolitan Opera House May 1, 1989

DAS RHEINGOLD
Wotan...................Hans Sotin Fricka..................Helga Dernesch Alberich................Franz Mazura Loge....................Graham Clark Erda....................Gweneth Bean Fasolt..................John Macurdy Fafner..................Matti Salminen Freia...................Mari-Anne Häggander Froh....................Gary Bachlund Donner..................James Courtney Mime....................Horst Hiestermann Woglinde................Kaaren Erickson Wellgunde...............Diane Kesling Flosshilde..............Meredith Parsons
Conductor...............James Levine

July 25, 2014
Carlo Bergonzi Has Passed Away

My all-time favorite tenor and one of the last surviving titans of the ‘last golden age’ of opera has passed away: Carlo Bergonzi.

Bergonzi sang over 320 performances at The Met, debuting in AIDA in 1956 opposite the also-debuting Antonietta Stella. He sang his final Met performance in 1988 in LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR. Over the years, Bergonzi – who started his operatic career as a baritone – gradually lost the ease and surety of his upper register, but stylistically he remained a paragon throughout his long career.

When I started listening to opera at the age of 11, I had no idea of how long a singing career could last or how a voice would age. The first singers I fell in love with – Milanov, Tebaldi, Jan Peerce, Robert Merrill, Giorgio Tozzi : it seemed to me they were eternal, that they had always been singing and would always continue to sing, and that they would always sound exactly the same as they did on the first recordings I acquired. Imagine my despair when I discovered early on that two of my first idols, Jussi Bjorling and Leonard Warren, were already dead!

I last saw Bergonzi onstage in 1988 as Rodolfo in LUISA MILLER, one of his last Met performances. People were raving about the staying power of this 64-year-old primo tenore but to me the voice was sadly pallid. The style, however, was wonderfully intact: the generosity of line, the feeling for the language, the skillful mastery of dynamics. Despite his admirable ability to cope with the music technically, I was disheartened and left midway thru the evening. Twelve years later, I was living in New York City when Bergonzi announced he would sing Verdi’s Otello in a concert performance at Carnegie Hall. My friends, knowing of my great love for the tenor, assumed I would be there but I feared it would be an unhappy evening…and it was: beset by vocal problems, he was forced to withdraw after Act II.

No, I would rather remember the great years, though in fact he was already well along in his career when I first heard him live in a concert performance of Catalani’s LA WALLY at Carnegie Hall in 1968. Appearing opposite Renata Tebaldi, Bergonzi managed to steal the show: he brought down the house after Hagenbach’s Act IV aria.

At The Met I heard his superb Radames, once with Lucine Amara and once with Martina Arroyo. It was with Arroyo that he triumphed as Verdi’s ERNANI in a stellar performance that also featured Sherrill Milnes and Ruggero Raimondi. He was a generous-toned and poetic Andrea Chenier in a performance where Renata Tebaldi struggled vocally, only to cast off all reserve in the final duet where she and Bergonzi thrilled us with their passionate outpouring of sound. And the tenor managed to convey the youthful vigor and tenderness of Alfredo Germont opposite the moving Violetta of Jeannette Pilou.

Listening to a matinee broadcast of TOSCA in 1975, I was dismayed to hear Bergonzi struggling with the top notes and fighting a losing battle, though he sang on to the end. He took a year and a half off (at least from the Met) returning in November 1976 as Radames opposite Rita Hunter. After a somewhat cautious but still impressively handled “Celeste Aida” Bergonzi went on to give a spectacular performance with some of the most generous singing I ever heard.

And such generosity won him great acclaim in 1979 when he returned to a signature role, Riccardo in BALLO IN MASCHERA. His phenomenally sustained top notes, sometimes attained thru sheer will-power, and his matchless phrasing drew enormous ovations on both evenings that I attended: one performance with Teresa Zylis-Gara and another with Carol Neblett. In 1982 Bergonzi was still on impressive form in FORZA DEL DESTINO, and in 1985 he scored a grand success in a concert performance of Verdi’s GIOVANNA D’ARCO opposite Margaret Price and Sherrill Milnes. In every one of these performances, whatever slight misgivings one might have, his ever-persuasive style carried the day.

But there was a final small chapter in my Bergonzi story: eight years after the MILLER that I walked out on, he appeared at James Levine’s 25th Met Anniversary gala, singing the aria from LUISA MILLER and the trio from I LOMBARDI. Massive demonstrations of love rained down on him and people raved about his longevity but for me, despite admiring his courage, he was a shadow of his glorious self.

But, I have lots of recordings (both commercial and live) to keep my favorite tenor’s voice ever in my ear. His early Decca aria recital has never – in my opinion – been matched by any other tenor’s, though some have come very close. Both his commercial BALLO recordings are superb. His Duke in RIGOLETTO (opposite Scotto and Fisher-Dieskau) is a fine document of Verdi tenor singing. In TROVATORE, PAGLIACCI, BOHEME and DON CARLO, he is The King. I deeply love his BUTTERFLY with Tebaldi, his TOSCA with a voice-in-peril Callas (she still has some magical moments though); and his lovely TRAVIATA with Montserrat Caballe. And I am particularly fond of Bergonzi’s splendid performance as Edgardo in the RCA LUCIA with Anna Moffo.

Carlo Bergonzi sings Tosti’s ‘Ideale’ here.

Hail and farewell, Maestro. If there’s a heaven, you can teach the angels how to sing.

July 25, 2014
At Home With Wagner V

These days I hardly listen to anything but Wagner at home, and invariably it’s one of the RING Cycle operas. Thanks to my friend Dmitry I have a stack of CDs as yet un-listened-to. Today I’ve set out on a 1963 Bayreuth WALKURE, led with distinction by Rudolf Kempe, which starts with a truly urgent rendering of the ‘chase’ music that serves as the opera’s prelude. Although the sound quality is erratic, with some over-load and distortion, it’s certainly more than tolerable.

Pictured above, soprano Jutta Meyfarth – yet another ‘forgotten’ voice – may not have an ideally warm or expansive voice for Sieglinde’s music: her timbre is a bit hard. But she has a great way with words and she constantly is alert to the dramatic nuances of the music and words. I listened to the last scene of Act I, starting with Meyfarth’s whispered ““Schläfst du Gast?”, several times, liking her more and more with each hearing.

The Finnish soprano Anita Välkki (above) tosses off one of the most brilliant renderings of “Ho-Jo-To-Ho!” that I ever heard. This under-rated soprano, her career overshadowed by the more famous Nilsson, Rysanek, Bjoner and Lindholm, has a bright and at times girlish vocal quality. In the “Todesverkündigung” – the great scene in which Brunnhilde announces to Siegmund his imminent death – Välkki shows clarity of expression and considerable beauty of tone.

Mezzo-soprano Grace Hoffman (above) rounds out a strong trio of female leads in this WALKURE. Her wide-ranging voice, her intense sense of Fricka’s wronged dignity, and her verbal and dynamic alertness make a capital effect.

Hans Hotter was in his mid-fifties at the time of this performance, and he had been singing Wotan for a quarter-century. If vocally he is a bit less fresh than in the 1953 Keilberth/Bayreuth performance, he is remarkably authoritative and relishes both the powerful and subtle moments of this great role.

Hans Hotter was vehemently anti-Hitler and when he was queried during the de-Nazification interviews following the end of the war as to why Hitler would have kept his recordings in his private collection, Hotter replied that the Pope had some of them, too.

Gottlob Frick again fills me with admiration here, singing Hunding. A somewhat less-than-stellar Siegmund – Fritz Uhl – still has his moments, but though I don’t pretend to speak German, some of his diction seemed rather odd.

The third act is strong, with Meyfarth convincing in Sieglinde’s distress and Välkki doing some warm, espressive singing from “War es so schmälich…” to her final plea with her father to ring the Valkyrie Rock with fire. Hotter is Wotan – yet again – with the power of his wrath slowly subsiding into the tenderness of a father bidding farewell to his beloved child. Perhaps no other singer has such an innate quality of heartbreak in the voice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Above: Tomasz Konieczny and Petra Lang

The Polish bass-baritone Tomasz Konieczny made a magnificent vocal impression when he sang Jochanaan in Strauss’s SALOME in a concert performance by the Vienna State Opera at Carnegie Hall in March 2014. Konieczny is the Wotan in the recently released WALKURE on the Penta Tone label, part of a complete RING Cycle conducted by Marek Janowski and recorded in a series of live concert performances in Berlin starting in 2012.

Very curious to hear Konieczny’s voice again, but not wanting to delve into the full WALKURE until I’d first had a chance to hear the RHEINGOLD, I listened to the final scene of the WALKURE as a free-standing excerpt. The bass-baritone sings powerfully and is a vibrant, dramatic presence especially as he takes his errant daughter Brunnhilde to task for having disobeyed his direct orders. Konieczny is quite splendid while letting off steam, though the poetry of the later scene where his bids farewell to Brunnhilde and puts her to sleep on the Valkyrie Rock is not quite yet in the singer’s expressive realm. He will doubtless attain that depth of understanding and an ability to communicate it as he sings the role in coming years. Marek Janowski’s conducting is alert and vivid, and Petra Lang – who has given some striking performances as a mezzo-soprano – now sings Brunnhilde. And if she does not seem destined to achieve the exalted echelon occupied by such great Wangeriennes as Nilsson, Behrens and Dame Gwyneth, Lang nonetheless makes a wonderful impression is her moving rendering of “War es so schmählich…” and is perfectly satisfying in the rest of the act.

**********************************************************************************************************************************

I acquired the first two acts of a Stockholm WALKURE from 1975 mainly to hear Barbro Ericson’s Fricka and to have a sampling of another voice that had eluded me til now: soprano Siv Wennberg. Rudolf Kempe’s conducting again seems ideal.

Kempe has this music in his blood and gives yet another great reading of the score. Ms. Ericson, one errant top note aside, is a passionate and exciting Fricka. Neither Ms. Wennberg nor her Siegmund, Helge Brilioth, are likely to displace other favorite interpreters of these roles in the Völsungen sweepstakes, but both are very good story-tellers. Thru dynamic and verbal shadings, the soprano gives us quite an intriguing “Der Männer Sippe“, and – earlier – the tenor does likewise as he tells the story of how he came to be under Hunding’s roof. Mr. Brilioth will later have some pitch issues, and his cries of “Wälse!’ Wälse!’” suffer from very bad audio overload. Ms. Wennberg holds steady throughout the first two acts.

As Brunnhilde, Berit Lindholm lauches a pert, eager “Ho-Jo-To-Ho“, and she makes a good impression in the Todesverkundigung: the very heart of the opera. David Ward, whose Wotan I so thoroughly enjoyed in the 1965 Covent Garden performance conducted by Solti, is understandably a bit less fresh vocally here in Stockholm ten years on, but he is still very impressive and expressive in his long monolog (so well-supportedby Kempe) and he gives a violently dismissive “Geh!” as he dispatches Hunding to his fate at the very end of Act II.

The most surprising aspect of this performance is a superbly sung Hunding from basso Rolf Cederlöf (above). This is a voice I’d never heard before, and even as a name he was unknown to me. It’s a beautiful, deep, voluminous sound, and from his entrance the vocal ‘temperature’ of the first act rises: he seems to inspire Wennberg and Brilioth in their narratives…and in turn they are all inspired by Kempe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Continuing in WALKURE mode, I recently took from the library the 1947 discs of Toscanini rehearsing the first act of the opera for a concert perfomance. This issue is a favorite among collectors as it gives an aural portrait of the fiery conductor at work. The Sieglinde is Rose Bampton (above) and I was very much taken with her interpretation. Wanting to hear more of Bampton, I turned to a 1944 Met broadcast of WALKURE conducted by George Szell. This seventy-year-old performance begins with a breathlessly-paced prelude depicting Siegmund’s rush thru the forest; Szell brings the first act full circle with an equally speedy burst of energy in the postlude as brother and sister rush off to their unknown fate.

Lauritz Melchior, that tireless Wagner-machine, is Siegmund. The paragon of heldentenors, Melchior sang over 500 performances at The Met alone; his career there lasted nearly a quarter-century (debut in 1926). Like Toscanini – who keeps admonishing the orchestra players “piano! piano!” during the rehearsal – Szell draws out some remarkably intimate passages from both musicians and singers in Act I. Melchior is able to sing some beautifully supported piano passages, and also to cut loose with sustained powerhouse cries of “Wälse! Wälse!“. Alexander Kipnis growls darkly as an authoritative Hunding.

Ms. Bampton’s singing sets her firmly alongside my favorite Sieglinde of all time: Johanna Meier. Bampton shares with Ms. Meier a deeply feminine sensibility as well as a feeling of great dignity, despite the hardships she has endured: married off against her will, and ill-treated by her abusive husband. Bampton’s wonderfully vivid diction, her ability to move the voice from subtle inflection to generous outpouring in the twinkling of an eye, and the overall appeal of her sound make for a winning combination in this role.

One added sonic element is the subtle use of a wind machine during the prelude; and it cunningly is heard again when the doors to Hunding’s hut blow open just before the “Winterstürme”.

I found myself being drawn deeper and deeper into this performance as Act II unfolded. Szell (above) seems, perhaps more than any other conductor I’ve experienced in the opera, to summon forth the various leitfmotifs and weave them ideally into the sonic tapestry. Thus the introduction to Act II presents the brass heralding the impending presence of Wotan and Brunnhilde whilst the strings yearningly deliver the theme of Sieglinde’s “Du bist der Lenz” (in a minor key) forecasting the theme of the entire act: the fate of the Völsung and his sister/bride; later, as Wotan and Fricka heatedly debate the issue, Szell brilliantly manages to support both sides of their argument thru orchestral underlining.

Helen Traubel’s Brunnhilde (above) rings true with rich, warm tone: a lone clapper greets her appearance – a few other audience members gingerly join in (applause during a Wagner opera is pretty much frowned upon) – and she has a fine success with “Ho-Jo-To-Ho” despite a hint of shortness at the top of the range. The sound of her voice at times reminds me, curiously, of Eleanor Steber’s.

Herbert Janssen’s Wotan is of the baritonal rather than basso persuasion: some of the roles lower notes are a bit of stretch for him. But he’s so completely at home in the role both verbally and vocally that it doesn’t matter. It’s not one of those grandiose Wagnerian voices, but has instead a dimension of the humanity that will eventually be the god’s undoing. Wotan’s monolog has some internal cuts, but Janssen sings it impressively and Traubel’s interjections are beautifully rendered.

Kerstin Thorborg’s imperial Fricka (above) is vocally opulent, and she deals from strength in her confrontation with Wotan, thoroughly dismantling his every argument as their scene progresses; a wonderfully sung Wagnerian exchange by two seasoned interpreters. Melchior and Bampton arrive at the mountain pass, fleeing from Hunding. Their scene is vividly urgent and again Szell and his orchestra continually project the dramatic situation; Melchior’s Siegmund is finally able to calm his desparate sister-bride, setting the stage for the heart of the opera: the ‘Todesverkündigung’ (the Annunciation of Death).

The Todesverkündigung is my favorite scene of WALKURE and my initial reaction on listening to the scene in this performance was of a slight letdown from all that had gone before. Szell and his orchestra did not seem to evoke the dreamlike quality needed (and there are a few bad notes among the brass players) and Melchior’s singing seemed factual and lacking in reverence to the demi-goddess who has appeared before him. I played the scene again a few hours later and found it far more impressive, especially as Traubel is so tonally secure and noble-sounding – at least until her cold façade begins to crumble in the face of Siegmund’s queries and his growing bitterness towards the deception he has been dealt. When the warrior tells Brunnhilde that he carries an invincible sword – Nothung – the Valkyrie replies: “He who bestowed it sends thee now death: for the spell he now takes from the sword!” her warning ricochets back at her when Siegmund cries: “This sword, given by a false man to a true one…!” The atmosphere is palpable, the scene as heart-breakingly beautiful as ever.

The end of the second act in this performance is somewhat undermined by the voices of Hunding, Brunnhilde and Wotan being too far off-mike to make the needed impact.

The third act opens with an exciting Ride of the Valkyries and an emotional rendering of the scene where Brunnhilde tells Sieglinde that Siegmund’s death was not in vain: she presents the unhappy widow with the pieces of the shattered Nothung and declares that Sieglinde, miraculously pregnant after only meeting her husband one day earlier, will give birth to the greatest of heroes: Siegfried. Mmes. Traubel and Bampton are very dramatically involved here, and both sing very well.

Traubel remains steady and impressive throughout the final scene with Herbert Janssen; the baritone’s voice has a steady beat to the tone – a kind of slow tremelo – that gives his singing of the opera’s heart-rending farewell of Wotan to his favorite daughter a wonderfully human dimension.

Among the Valkyries, the name Margaret Harshaw (above) stands out. She is Schwertleite here, as she was on many a Met evening over the years. In 1949 she moved on to Fricka and in 1954 she took on Sieglinde for the first time. And later in 1954 she assumed the role of Brunnhilde. It was in this last-named role that Harshaw sang in a Met WALKURE for the last time, in 1962. She took over the opera’s title-role that night in place of an ailing Birgit Nilsson. It was quite a night, as this descriptive review attests:

“Soprano Birgit Nilsson, scheduled to sing the role of Brünnhilde, had to bow out the evening before the performance. General Manager Rudolf Bing gave the role to soprano Margaret Harshaw, who was to have sung Sieglinde; into the Sieglinde role went soprano Gladys Kuchta. One of the Valkyries, mezzo Gladys Kriese, was ill with tracheitis: her part went to mezzo Ethel Greene, regularly a member of the chorus. Somehow, the opera got started on time. But in Act II, just when baritone Otto Edelmann seemed to be booming along comfortably in the role of Wotan, his voice began to fail. Edelmann withdrew at the end of Act II. He was replaced by baritone Randolph Symonette, who lasted on stage for only four minutes. 'It seemed to me like four hours,' said shaken conductor Erich Leinsdorf, later. It was apparent to Leinsdorf that Symonette 'could not get any music out of his throat.' When Symonette finally croaked out the line 'Aus meinem Angesicht bist du verbannt'('From my presence you are banished'), Leinsdorf ordered the curtain rung down.

Conductor Leinsdorf started again after a jump of ten pages in the score to cut out some of the more tortuous vocal passages, and baritone Edelmann came on again as Wotan, in brighter voice after his rest. Happily, they all made it to the final curtain.

"I felt like the pilot who decides on a crash landing," said Leinsdorf. "We made it without the plane going up in flames."

July 20, 2014
Dress Rehearsal of SWAN LAKE @ ABT

Monday June 23, 2014 – I had a wonderful time at the dress rehearsal of ABT’s SWAN LAKE this afternoon, as the guest of my friend Monica Wellington. We had a very nice view of both the stage and the orchestra from a Grand Tier box.

I’ve been to many opera dress rehearsals at The Met over the years, but this was my first time for a ballet. The dancers did not always dance full-out – just as the singers in an opera sometimes mark at a dress rehearsal. Partial costuming, lack of full stage make-up, headwear worn or not…all this made for a very ‘personal’ experience (one girl in the corps wore her eyeglasses throughout).

James Whiteside was an excellent Prince Siegfried in Act I, and then we had a different pair of principals in each of the following acts: the exquisite Hee Seo dancing with Roberto Bolle in the first lakeside scene, then the lush and imperial Veronika Part with Cory Stearns in the Black Swan act, and finally Paloma Herrera (my lovely Giselle from last week) with Mr. Whiteside in the final act. Misty Copeland, Isabella Boylston, and Luis Ribagorda danced the pas de trois, and the soon-to-depart Jared Matthews danced Rothbart’s set-piece in the Black Swan act.

At the end of the ballet, it was decided to rehearse part of the Maypole dance from Act I again, so we had the delightful experience of watching the girls, costumed as white swans, folk-dancing.

The orchestra brought a special glow to the score, playing at performance-level all afternoon. I was especially impressed – and moved – by the woodwinds in the final act: the two oboists were ideally matched in phrasing, harmony and incredible breath-control, as were the bassoonists. Later the melody passes to clarinet, then flute, then piccolo. I very much enjoyed watching the musicians – all dressed in summer casuals – and I quietly applauded their artistry throughout the ballet.

At the end, we stayed on as all the dancers – many of them now in street clothes – returned to the stage for notes. Cory Stearns practiced some very elegant multiple pirouettes stage left.

June 23, 2014