Category: Opera

Ira Malaniuk

The contralto Ira Malaniuk (above) was an Austrian singer of Ukranian descent who had a major career in Europe from 1939 to 1976 yet is rarely mentioned today in discussions of great voices from the past. Yet surely she is one of their number.

Malaniuk appears on several commercial recordings, some of which I have heard, yet it is a 1953 live recording of GOTTERDAMMERUNG from the 1953 Bayreuth Festival in which she sings Waltraute that made me sit up and take notice of this wonderful singer.

Malaniuk came to international attention at the 1951 Bayreuth Festival when she stepped in at the last minute for an ailing colleague; here is the story:

“It was 1951. The Wagnerian Festival at Bayreuth, Germany was taking place for the first time since the end of World War II.

Herbert von Karajan was the conductor. The opera was Das Rheingold (The Rhine Gold), the first of the four operas that comprise Wagner’s Der Ring Des Nibelungen. A complete Ring Cycle peformance was planned for this innaugural post-war season.

Elisabeth Höngen, a mezzo-soprano, was scheduled to sing. She had
performed only a few days earlier. Suddenly on August 11, 1951, Höngen
came down with an acute case of appendicitis and was hospitalized.

That fateful day, Ira Malaniuk, a young mezzo-soprano, came into the
theatre not suspecting that she would be required to sing the part of
Fricka that night. According to her own autobiography, not only had
Malaniuk never sung the part, she hadn’t even heard it before.

And yet, with the assistance of the Bayreuth Festival staff,
colleagues, prompters and conductor Karajan, Ira Malaniuk went on stage
that night and sang. The critics raved. Bavarian Radio broadcast the
production.

And, Ira Malaniuk went on to become a famous opera singer – a Kammersängerin – in both Germany and Austria.”

Malaniuk had studied with the great basso Adamo Didur, and opera was always in her heart, as she relates in this charming story:

“I cannot say, where the beginnings of my love of opera were. Already in
childhood, they shone for me like a guiding star. Although, in all
truth, there was a female opera singer in our family, that reached world
wide fame – Salomea Kruszelnicka. She was the daughter of my paternal
grandmother’s brother, in short my father’s cousin. Our paths never
crossed – I never met Kruszelnicka, never saw her peform on stage, but
perhaps some drop of her artistic blood courses through my veins.”

Above, Ira Malaniuk with her soprano colleague, the radiant Lisa Della Casa.

Listen to Ira Malaniuk singing the Second Norn in this document from the Bayreuth Festival’s 1953 GOTTERDAMMERUNG. Her sister-Norns are Maria von Ilosvay and Regina Resnik (in her soprano days); Clemens Krauss conducts.

November 25, 2012
CLEMENZA DI TITO @ The Met

Tuesday November 20, 2012 – The Metropolitan Opera’s current revival of their classic Jean-Pierre Ponnelle production of Mozart’s LA CLEMENZA DI TITO is a joy both to the ear and the eye. Marty Sohl’s production photo (above) illustrates the fantasy mixture of ancient Roman and baroque stylistic elements that give the sets and costumes their timeless visual appeal.

Tonight, Harry Bicket led a sterling performance, with excellent continuo playing from Bradley Brookshire (harpsichord) and David Heiss (cello) as well as spectacular woodwind solos in two of the opera’s iconic arias: Andrew McGill (clarinet, in “Parto, parto”) and James Ognibene (basset horn, in “Non piu di fiori”). Mr. Bicket’s vivid pacing and his sense of the music’s flow put the singers in high relief; there were three outstanding vocal performances and overall it was one of the most satisfying evenings at The Met in recent seasons.

To think that I almost skipped this revival! But a chance to hear Kate Lindsey as Annio was not to be missed, and the beauteous young mezzo (above) gave an immaculate performance, her lithe figure and ease of movement onstage enhancing her interpretation at every turn. Like many of her predecessors in this fach, Kate spends a lot of her onstage time in trousers (she’ll debut at Glyndebourne as the Composer in ARIADNE AUF NAXOS in the coming year). Her singing tonight was pristine, with a particularly ravishing piano passage in “Tu fosti tradito” that would melt the coldest heart.

With his noble and expressive face, Giuseppe Filianoti (above) made a splendid impression as Tito. His singing was clear and mellifluous, the words poetically delivered. The tenor finely delineated the emperor’s dilemma in dealing with his betrayal by his friend Sesto: should friendship trump justice? When I last heard Mr. Filianoti in the house, he was dealing with health issues, so it was really very pleasing to hear him on such beautiful vocal form tonight.

Somehow I’ve managed not to encounter a live performance by the Latvian mezzo-soprano Elina Garanca (bove) up til now. I first heard her voice on a recording my friend Mollie sent me from the 2001 Cardiff Competition. Garanca has since developed into a world-class artist and after hearing her as Sesto tonight, she’s on my A-list of singers. Both in terms of vocal appeal and technical accomplishment, this was a stunning performance: Garanca’s voice is all of a piece, and she moves it thru the registers seamlessly. After a profoundly expressive rendering of the openng passages of the great aria “Parto, parto” Ms. Garanca sailed through the whirlwind coloratura flourishes of the aria’s later pages with nimble assurance. Later, as she knelt to invoke the strength to carry out her assassination of Tito, she summoned an amazing degree of projection, the voice sailing into the hall with startling force. In her second spectacular aria “Deh per questo istante solo”, the mezzo soprano coloured the voice movingly, reflecting the character’s anguish and also his stalwart refusal to implicate Vitellia in the crime. Ms. Garanca’s entire performance was a revelation.

Barbara Frittoli, an unforgettable Desdemona at the Met in 1999, has more recently found considerable success in singing Mozart since she did her voice some damage during the first decade of the 21st century by singing music that was too heavy for her. Her canny manipulation of dynamics usually prevents her widening vibrato from becoming too prevelant. But for all her attractive qualities, Vitellia’s great aria “Non piu di fiori” simply lies too low for Ms. Frittoli to make her finest effect in the music. Vitellia in fact can be sung by a mezzo, except for that thorny top-D that Mozart threw into the act I trio, a note that eluded Ms. Frittoli tonight. Nevertheless, the soprano kept up her side of things all evening and the audience enjoyed her sometimes over-the-top dramatic portrayal.

Lucy Crowe as Servilia is a pretty girl with luminous eyes and a pleasing lyric timbre. In his search for a wife, Tito’s first choice – Servilia – might have made him quite happy, especially with Ms. Crowe’s buxom grace and girlish smile.

A wonderful Met evening, then, and there was every reason to stay to the end and shout’ bravi’ as the singers took their bows to sustained applause.

Metropolitan Opera House November 20, 2012 LA CLEMENZA DI TITO Mozart
Tito.......................Giuseppe Filianoti Vitellia...................Barbara Frittoli Sesto......................Elina Garanca Servilia...................Lucy Crowe Annio......................Kate Lindsey Publio.....................Oren Gradus Berenice...................Toni Rubio Bradley Brookshire, Harpsichord Continuo Anthony McGill, Clarinet Soloist James Ognibene, Basset Horn Soloist David Heiss, Cello Continuo
Conductor..................Harry Bicket

November 20, 2012
Salonen Conducts WOZZECK

Monday November 19, 2012 – The Philharmonia Orchestra under the baton of Esa-Pekka Salonen (above) offered a concert performance of Alban Beg’s WOZZECK at Avery Fisher Hall. Incredibly, it was the first time I have experienced this opera in a live performance that was conducted by someone other than James Levine.

The particpating artists:

Philharmonia Orchestra
Westminster Choir  - Joe Miller, director
The American Boychoir – Fernando Malvar-Ruiz, music director

Conductor: Esa-Pekka Salonen

Simon Keenlyside Wozzeck
Angela Denoke Marie
Hubert Francis Drum Major
Joshua Ellicott Andres
Peter Hoare Captain
Tijl Faveyts Doctor
Henry Waddington First Apprentice
Eddie Wade: Second Apprentice
Harry Nicoll Idiot
Anna Burford Margret

The performance was compelling both in the awe-inspiring magnificence of the orchestral playing and in the powerful simplicity of the semi-staging: the singers, clad in contemporary everyday chic, moved thru the drama in a narrow space at the lip of the stage. Direct and uncomplicated in its presentation. the drama was expressed with stripped-down clarity. Thanks to a cast of singing-actors each vividly inhabiting his or her character, this tale of madness, despair, bullying and betrayal cast its extraordinary spell.

The score unfolded under Maestro Salonen’s baton like a vast dark tapestry; individual orchestral voices shoot thru the fabric of sound like shimmering threads. As in SALOME, the musical imagery often evokes moonlight seen thru sooty, scudding clouds…but here the moon is blood-red. The conductor struck an ideal balance of unleashing the insane power of the orchestra yet never overwhelming his singers. The cumulative effect was electrifying..

In the early scenes of the opera, dark comedy runs rampant: the Captain and the Doctor who hold Wozzeck their mental hostage are so deranged and their words so far-fetched as to evoke laughter. Brilliant characterzations from Peter Hoare and Tijl Faveyts respectively set their vignettes in high relief. Hubert Francis was the swaggering bully of a Drum Major and Joshua Ellicott as Andres – one of Wozzeck’s few links to normalcy – sang with clarity. Anna Burford as Margret delivered her Swabia-lied with drunken blowsiness; Harry Nicoll was an eerily happy Idiot. I took special pleasure in the robustly earthy singing of Henry Waddlington and Eddie Ware as the two apprentices. Their scene simply crackled with verbal and vocal power and they steered clear of the comic cliches of acting out drunkiness, making their performances all the more impressive.

Angela Denoke, a soprano still talked-about in Gotham for her only Met performances (a series of Marschallins in 2005) was a wonderfully feminine and vunerable Marie. For all her toughness (“better a knife in my heart than lay a hand on me”), Marie is a marvelously human woman torn between desire and guilt, and Ms. Denoke’s portrayal struck an ideal balance while providing vocalism of gleaming lyricism and intriguing colours. She now proudly joins my gallery of memorable portrayals of this character over the years: Janis Martin, Anja Silja, Hildegard Behrens, Katarina Dalayman and Waltraud Meier.

As Wozzeck, Simon Keenlyside enjoyed a great personal triumph. Hurling himself into the drama with a dazzling affiinity for the expressive physical manifestations of madness and with tortured facial responses to Wozzeck’s downward spiral, the baritone sang with unfettered power and a full palette of vocal colours which he drew upon to project the character’s ravaged humanity. Keenlyside’s performance was nothing short of perfection.

And so, one of the most thrilling nights of opera in recent seasons…and the proof of it was in the utter silence of the audience in those unexpected stillnesses that Berg applies from time to time. They are as key to the dark glory of WOZZECK as the shocking power of the great post-murder crescendos. Salonen and his mighty forces gave us an exciting evening, reaffirming the still-powerful desire of the New York public for meaningful operatic experiences.

November 19, 2012
Atlanta Symphony @ Carnegie Hall
Above: baritone Brett Polegato, one of tonight’s soloists at Carnegie Hall

Saturday October 27th, 2012 -The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra brought three 20th century works to Carnegie Hall in a wonderfully crafted evening under the baton of Robert Spano. My front row seat put me right at the heart of things, beneath a row of lovely cellists that I could have reached out and touched. This was my third evening at Carnegie in a week’s time, and I felt so at home there.

I chose this programme because I wanted to hear the Canadian baritone Brett Polegato; his voice intrigued me when I first heard him singing on a tape of the 1995 Cardiff Competition which my friend Mollie had so kindly sent me. It’s taken me all this time to hear him ‘in person’ and it was well worth the wait; my impressions of him from that tape proved totally valid: he’s a first-rate singer.

But to start at the beginning, Mr. Spano opened the programme with Copland’s APPALACHIAN SPRING, by far the best-known of the evening’s three weeks. In classical music, familiarity can breed not so much contempt as a taking for granted of certain works. If you say ‘NUTCRACKER‘ or “Eine kleine nachtmusik‘, people will shrug and smirk and say “Again?” But these pieces are popular for a reason.

Listening to the Atlanta players in the Copland, I realized again how really original and purely enjoyable this score is. And it put me so much in mind of my recent links with the Martha Graham Dance Comany and with the Japanese artist Isamu Noguchi who designed the sets for Graham’s iconic ballet. Tonight APPALACHIAN SPRING felt like the masterpiece that it is, so lovingly played.

CHICHESTER PSALMS is one of the few Leonard Bernstein works that I admire, and possibly the only one that truly enjoy. I actually came to know this music thru Peter Martins’ ritualistc setting at New York City Ballet. Its rhythmic freshness and its heartfelt melodic strands make it so appealing, and tonight we had an adult male soprano rather than a boy treble; John Holiday’s gorgeous tone stole gleamingly into the huge Hall. His voice gave the music an erotic/exotic throb that a boy singer could never produce. The audience gave Mr. Holiday a rousing cheer as he bowed, and he very much deserved it.

William Walton’s BELSHAZZAR’S FEAST was an early success for the composer and it sounded magnificent last night as played and sung by the musicians and chorus of the Atlanta Symphony. The work tells the story of the proverbial writing on the wall, and of Belshazzar’s demise and the triumph of godliness. It plays out strikingly, though it does seem to me that Walton became just a shade long-winded in the final pages of the score: he doesn’t seem to know when to stop. Be that as it may, it was an inspired performance all round.

Brett Polegato’s noble tone sailed out into the Hall with warmth, focus and power, his exemplary clarity of diction making reference to the printed texts unnecessary. In the unaccompanied passage ‘Babylon was a great city…’ the singer forged a direct link with the audience, his voice speaking to us with remarkable directness and emotional force.

The evening posed the question, why isn’t Brett Polegato at The Met? And why, for that matter, isn’t Mr. Spano there as well? They are both masters of their respective crafts.

You can experience their work on the Grammy Award-winning recording of Vaughan-Williams SEA SYMPHONY.

Tonight’s concert:

Performers
- Atlanta Symphony Orchestra
  Robert Spano, Music Director and Conductor
- John Holiday, Countertenor
- Brett Polegato, Baritone
- Atlanta Symphony Orchestra Chorus
  Norman Mackenzie, Director of Choruses
Program
- COPLAND
  Appalachian Spring
- BERNSTEIN
  Chichester Psalms
- WALTON
  Belshazzar’s Feast
October 27, 2012
Ives 4th + Mahler 8th @ Carnegie Hall
Above: Gustav Mahler

Friday October 26, 2012 – The Collegiate Chorale and the American Symphony Orchestra teamed up at Carnegie Hall tonight for a symphonic double-bill, with a delightful ‘prelude’ in the form of Leopold Stokowski’s arrangement of The Star-Spangled Banner. I rarely have the opportunity to work symphonic concerts into my calendar of dance and operatic events (and I continue to suffer from a lack of chamber music in my diet). So I am grateful to the Collegiate Chorale and publicist Michelle Brandon Tabnick for this evening’s invitation.

The evening marked the 50th anniversary of the American Symphony Orchestra and in celebration, tickets were sold at 1962 prices, with a $7.00 top. There was a nice atmosphere in the house and a warm reception for all the musicians involved.

Maestro Leon Botstein swept his forces thru the ‘Stokowski’ Star-Spangled Banner with its wonderful deeper sonorities near the end. Players and audience alike stood for the anthem, and I personally felt a pang of sadness at the state of our country today. But we won’t go into that here.

The players then settled in and the Ives began. This is a fabulous score and I found myself smiling and even chuckling softly to myself as the work progressed: it takes itself so seriously, yet to me it abounds with wit and irony. It seemed clear that some in the audience had not previously encountered Ives’ work: they didn’t know what to make of it. But for me, this was 30-minutes of pure sonic pleasure.

Above: Charles Ives

The wondrous layering of sound, the floating cacophonies wafting over the dense militaristic undercurrents, the dazzling individual instrumental voices shining forth: the ear is constantly titillated. In a stunning volte face, Ives gives us straightforward melody in the 3rd movement which must have felt like a sonic oasis to the uninitiated. Throughout, the piano (expert playing from Blair McMillen) gives the symphony the unexpected feel of a concerto trying to make itself heard thru the waves of sound. A terrific performances, and the players have my admiration for what must be a nightmare of counting.

After intermission, the vast tapestry of the Mahler 8th unfurled itself in the venerable hall. Relentless in its cresting waves of vocal sound flooding over the massive orchestral forces, this is a work like no other. The two choruses simply pour it on all evening, whilst an octet of principal voices – the sopranos often kept in the upper reaches of their range – trade off solo passages of melodic intensity.

Of the vocal soloists, three stood out: baritone Tyler Duncan (above, in a Colin Mills portrait) brought a welcome sense of lyric beauty to his solo. Basso Denis Sedov was equally fine, using his expressive hands to shape the music. In the taxing top soprano line, Rebecca Daviss’ voice gleamed beautifully all evening.

Maestro Botstein was a few minutes into the symphony’s second half when he suddenly stopped; I could not hear his over-the-shoulder remark, but with a tap of the baton he started over. The performance then surged onward, and the audience stayed on at the end to cheer.
- Blair McMillen, piano
- Rebecca Davis, soprano
- Abbie Furmansky, soprano
- Katherine Whyte, soprano
- Fredrika Brillembourg, mezzo-soprano
- Susan Platts, mezzo-soprano
- Clay Hilley, tenor
- Tyler Duncan, baritone
- Denis Sedov, bass
- Brooklyn Youth Chorus
- The Collegiate Chorale
October 26, 2012
Verdi REQUIEM @ Carnegie Hall
Tuesday October 23, 2012 – I’d been looking forward to this performance for weeks; the Verdi MESSA DA REQUIEM is one of my favorite pieces of music, glorious from first note to last. I have experienced some thrilling live performances over the years, including three superb evenings at Tanglewood. Great conductors, great soloists and top-notch choral groups have placed their stamp on this grandiose and poignant score.

Tonight’s performance will not fall in the memorable category, although the playing of the Philadelphia Orchestra was thrilling, and the singers of the Westminster Symphonic Choir gave their hearts and souls to the work’s resplendent choral passages.

Opening the work with an achingly slow and very inspiring rendering of the score’s first pages, conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin went on to a very impressive performance of the entire work. He moulded the great arcs of music with a fine sense of grandeur and he and his players shone in the more introspective moments. Only his rather pretentious holding of the applause by not lowering his baton after a reasonable pause at the end seemed off-kilter; it wasn’t that profound of a performance.

The REQUIEM is sometimes referred to as a ‘sacred opera’; it is so very operatic by nature that, as with all operas, performances of it tend to stand or fall by its principal vocalists. Tonight we had an even split of a surprisingly excellent mezzo-soprano and a very fine basso, aligned with a soprano who seemed sometimes on the verge of distress and a tenor who labored valiantly to make his once-generous voice flesh out Verdi’s magnificent melodies.

Christine Rice (above), a singer totally new to me, gave a very pleasing performance in every respect, Her timbre has a soprano feel to it, but she used a comfortably plush and resonant chest voice to make the most of her every phrase. In an evening of often wayward vocalism, I found myself sighing with relief whenever Ms. Rice stood up to sing. Basso Mikhail Petrenko might not have the sheer vocal heft of some of the singers who have preceded him in this music, but his sound is steady and warm and his vocalism is expressive. The opening pages of the Lacrymosa, where Ms. Rice and Mr. Petrenko joined forces, was the evening’s purest sonic pleasure.

Marina Poplavskaya’s opening phrase was painful to the ear; her voice sounded unsteady and ill-sorted. As the evening progressed, a feeling of lack of vocal support grew. Her voice often sounded pallid and tentative, and she used a piano approach to high notes to cover a spreading quality that emerged when she sang full-out. Shortness of breath was worrisome, as were vagaries of pitch here and there; her lower-middle register did not always speak. And some of the most thrilling moments of the REQUIEM, when the soprano voice should sail out over the massed choral and orchestral forces, went for naught tonight as Ms. Poplevskaya’s sound was erased by the sopranos of the chorus.

Opera lovers can’t help but be aware of Rolando Villazon’s vocal struggles in recent seasons. This very likeable singer tried to sing with his usual generosity and passion, but the sound now is smallish and grey. The top does not bloom, but narrows instead. And he has a very strange method of attacking notes with a biting huskiness. Attempting to make the music interesting, he drew down the tone to a thread at times but it did not sound well-supported; and a patch of off-pitch singing in the Hostias was disconcerting.

It was a sad night for the soprano and tenor though the audience, typically, did not seem to notice anything was amiss. I wonder how much more impressive the evening would have been if different vocalists had taken on these roles. It was a squandered opportunity, in my view.
- The Philadelphia Orchestra
  Yannick Nézet-Séguin, Music Director
- Marina Poplavskaya, Soprano
- Christine Rice, Mezzo-Soprano
- Rolando Villazón, Tenor
- Mikhail Petrenko, Bass
- Westminster Symphonic Choir
  Joe Miller, Conductor
October 23, 2012
Baroque Collaboration @ The Players Club

Above: Jared Angle, in a Henry Leutwyler portrait.

Friday September 28, 2012 – In a unique mingling of dance and song, New York City Ballet principal dancer Jared Angle and countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo met up in the salon at the Players Club for a Baroque feast. Jared’s NYCB colleague Troy Schumacher (who is also the founder of Satellite Ballet) choreographed the Vivaldi piece in which Jared danced. At the harpsichord, the remarkable Bradley Brookshire made marvelous music all evening. The programme was presented as part of the Salon/Sanctuary Concerts series.

Above: Anthony Roth Costanzo, whose singing of Handel, Purcell and Vivaldi showed a delicious timbre, breath control of enviable security, and coloratura that left the listener astounded. For all the magic of his virtuoso vocalism, it was in the sustained poetry of the slow passages that the slender and agile young singer was at his most ingratiating. Tapering the phrases with staggering dynamic command, the voice spoke to us of a time when the great castrati brought audiences to the point of madness. If one or two highest notes seemed slightly strained, it hardly mattered. This was fabulous vocalism, and all the more fascinating for the engaging use of eyes and hands with which Anthony mesmerized his listeners.

Bradley Brookshire (above) played solo works by Bach and Scarlatti, his scale passages rippling off the keyboard with fantastical velocity and precision. A master of timing and of coaxing colours out of his instrument, Bradley even made the silences speak. His musical rapport with the countertenor was a complete delight to experience.

It was in the Vivaldi cantata Qual per ignoto calle that the artistry of the evening’s three participants converged. Clad in black tights and a simple grey shirt, Jared Angle stepped into the space where he encountered the bare-footed counter-tenor. Troy Schumacher’s choreography drew the singer into the dance, his lithe frame very much at ease with the movement. Jared circled Anthony like an unseen spirit, a guardian angel. Using his wonderfully expressive hands to poetic effect, Jared moved with consummate grace, sometimes lifting the singer and cradling him with consoling tenderness. There were passages where Jared displayed hs vituosity in leaps and turns, but he always returned to keeping watch over his charge. Bathed in the golden light of this antique salon, Jared’s face took on an other-worldly beauty. The duet hovered on the brink of unspoken romance – inevitable when two handsome men meet in an intimate setting – but the purity of the spell was never broken.

September 28, 2012
Escape to Stravinsky

Wednesday September 26th, 2012 – When we’re feeling down, music, dance, art and nature become sources of solace and ways of leaving our troubles behind, at least for a span of time. Tonight an all-Stravinsky programme at New York City Ballet served as a surprising means of escape. While the ballets are all thrice-familiar Balanchine-Stravinsky masterpieces, the dancing as well as the unusual sensation of freshness being found in the scores drew me out of myself for a while.

There were several cast changes this evening, with dancers scheduled for one ballet shifting to a different one to replace injured colleagues. It all turned out well in the end, though I was sorry not to see Abi Stafford dancing.

The ballets look sleek and vital, and Kurt Nikkanen’s playing of the STRAVINSKY VIOLIN CONCERTO is always a pleasing experience. Curtain up, and there is Janie Taylor with the four boys. She does all the steps and port de bras that every woman who has ever danced this role have done, but her personal mystique is so intriguing you feel you’ve never seen the ballet before. Then each of the other three principals make their entree, and we’re off. I loved Sebastien Marcovici’s large-scale movement and his steady partnering. Robert Fairchild moves with incredible vitality; he and Janie are a great match-up in their pas de deux. Rebecca Krohn has one of her most congenial roles here; she was superb and she put me in mind of some of my earliest experiences with the leotard ballets, when the great ballerinas who knew Balanchine personally danced these roles. So good to see Faye Arthurs in a brief featured role, and the corps de ballet were looking spiffy with several appeasing faces and forms among their number.

I’ll always remember my first encounter with MONUMENTUM/MOVEMENTS; it was at a Sunday matinee in the 1980s. I was going to a 4:00 PM Kathleen Battle recital at Alice Tully but I took a standing room spot for the NYCB matinee and just watched the opening ballet. Helene Alexopoulos danced the leading role; I adored her, and I was so fascinated by the way the dancers broke ranks and re-arranged themselves between movements.

Tonight, the magnificent Maria Kowroski took the stage with her two cavaliers – Ask LaCour and Sebastien Marcovici – and it was a really impressive performance. Maria sculpted her long limbs gloriously into improbable shapes, ideally punctuating her phrasing on the music. The men gave her perfect support, and the audience gave the three a warm reception as they stepped out to bow. The Gesualdo score in particular stood out with burnished radiance in an evening of fine playing from the pit; Daniel Capps was the conductor here.

Although Autumn is approaching, it felt like Spring as Megan Fairchild and Chase Finlay took the stage for DUO CONCERTANT. This partnership, so thoroughly captivating in LIEBESLIEDER last season, gave this Balanchine classic a youthful glow. Chase is becoming – or maybe we should say ‘has become’ – quite the dashing cavalier, and when Megan ignited a manège of swift pirouettes, all seemed right with the world. Their joint allegro dancing was perfect, and in the slower and more tender passages of the ballet, the two dancers had just the right feeling of intimacy. Arturo Delmoni and Susan Walters were the musical duo.

Is there a more iconic image in all the Balanchine canon that the curtain-rise diagonal that opens SYMPHONY IN THREE MOVEMENTS? But we only have seconds to savour it before Daniel Ulbricht comes sailing onstage and bursts into a series of fantastical leaps. Tiler Peck joins him in this rousing passage of tucked-up bounces. (And it’s time yet again to commend Tiler’s vast range and her contagious joy of dance). Savannah Lowery and Adrian Danchig-Waring danced vividly as is their wont, and the pas de deux with its oddly appealng melody was very well-danced by the delectable Sterling Hyltin and Amar Ramasar. Amar received a screaming bursts of applause at his curtain calls, and he deserved every bit of it.

That opening diagonal and the ‘melting’ of it at the end of the ballet’s first movement showed us some of our current corps beauties. A very strong group of demi-solistes kept the opera glasses darting madly whenever they were onstage: mesdamoiselles Brown, King, Laracey, Pazcoguin and Smith and their cavaliers Alberda, Dieck, Laurent, Peiffer (long time, no see) and Schumacher.

The house was far from full though there was considerable enthusiasm all evening. But it is so sad to see the 4th Ring gallery empty and gaping forlorn: that is the place where I and (I am sure) thousands of others first experienced the Balanchine/Stravinsky ballets. And if new generations are to be lured in, these seats at realistic prices are the place to do it.

STRAVINSKY VIOLIN CONCERTO: Taylor [replacing Hyltin], R. Fairchild, Krohn, Marcovici [replacing Ramasar]

MONUMENTUM PRO GESUALDO: Kowroski, la Cour
pause
MOVEMENTS FOR PIANO & ORCHESTRA: Kowroski, Marcovici
pause
DUO CONCERTANT: M. Fairchild, Finlay

SYMPHONY IN THREE MOVEMENTS: Hyltin [replacing A. Stafford], T. Peck, Lowery, Ramasar [replacing J. Angle], Ulbricht, Danchig-Waring

September 26, 2012
TROVATORE from Rome/1967

It’s taken me a while to locate, but I’ve now found on CD the 1967 performance of Verdi’s IL TROVATORE from Rome 1967 that I used to have on reel-to-reel and that always seemed to me to capture the essence of this melodious, melodramatic work. Conducted by Bruno Bartoletti, the performance features a quartet of principal artists (all Italian) who strike at the very heart of the opera, a score rooted in bel canto but also forward-looking in its way. Photo of the composer, above.

Gabriella Tucci’s beautiful lirico-spinto voice made a great impression on my when i first heard her in Met broadcasts as Aida, Cio-Cio-San, Violetta and Desdemona back in the early 60s. These were my formative years as an opera-lover and Tucci’s voice spoke directly to my heart; there was a lovely vulnerable quality to her singing. I finally got to see her onstage, as Leonora in TROVATORE at the Old Met in 1965, and I heard her again in this role at a concert performance at the Newport Festival in 1967. She is the Leonora of the 1967 Rome performance and re-affirms everything I loved about her in this music. She does experience one brief moment of pitch trouble during the high-lying arcs of the great fourth act aria, but everything else in her performance is sung quite beautifully. Her phrasing and use of the language seem to me to set her among the most persuasive of Verdi stylists.

Piero Cappuccilli is the Conte di Luna, making his usual fine impression in terms of vocal attractiveness and breath-control. For me, it’s never been a really distinctive sound – I’m not sure I could pick out the Cappuccili voice in a ‘blind’ line-up of Italian baritones – but he had a huge career, much of it spent as Italy’s premier Verdi baritone.

Carlo Bergonzi’s always been my favorite tenor; yes, I know that as time passed he tended to have trouble maintaining pitch in the upper range (he was originally a baritone) but for me his gorgeous timbre, dynamic mastery, fluid diction and stylish turnings of phrase make him The King. On this night in Rome, his opening serenade ‘Deserto sulla terra’ is ravishing to the ear and he crests up to the final phrase with such sustained and expressive vocalism that the audience erupts with cheers. Ever the scrupulous musician, Bergonzi delivers the trills in “Ah, si bel mio” with his customary polish, and his “Di quella pira” is made urgent not by shouting but by verbal emphasis. Such a wonderful document of him in this role.

For all the excitement that Tucci, Cappuccilli and Bergonzi provide, it is Fiorenza Cossotto as Azucena who gives the evening’s most stunning performance. Cossotto’s voice, one of the grandest I ever heard live (as Eboli, Amneris, Santuzza, Azucena, and Dame Quickly) generates incredible excitement among the Rome audience. The protracted ovation after her Act II monologue reminded me of the night I saw her Amneris at The Met: although there were no curtain calls after the Judgement Scene, the audience gave Cossotto such a massive applause that the conductor was literally unable to commence the Tomb Scene for a good five minutes. Cossotto’s huge, round sound and her splendid emotional commitment (always musical – she never strayed from the notes for dramatic effect) are on peak form for the Rome Azucena, a thrilling sonic experience.

Cossotto establishes her majestic vocal presence immediately in “Stride la vampa” but it is in her great monolog “Condotta ell’era in ceppi,” as Azucena describes her mother’s execution, where the mezzo soars into the musico-dramatic stratosphere with a searing performance that elicits an endless ovation from the crowd. This is Italian opera at its most thrilling, and few singers over time could match Cossotto in her prime for vocal and emotional generosity. She continues to dominate this Rome performance right to her final triumphant high B-flat.

The sound quality is pretty good for the period, and Bruno Bartoletti keeps things humming along in the pit and allows his singers to sustain cherished notes – sometimes in a competitive way – which makes for an extra thrill here and there. I so enjoyed listening to this performance again after many years.

July 26, 2012
POB: Orpheus and Eurydice

Saturday July 21, 2012 – The Paris Opera Ballet concluded their 2012 guest-season at Lincoln Center with Pina Bausch’s staging of Gluck’s immortal opera based on the myth of the singer Orpheus, a man who braves the furies of hell to bring his beloved wife back from the dead. Bausch created her version of the opera in 1975 at Wuppertal and it entered the repertoire of the Paris Opera Ballet in 2005.

Ms. Bausch eschews Gluck’s plan for the opera to end happily; the composer has the gods taking pity on Orpheus after he has caused Eurydice’s ‘second death’ and she is restored to him. In her setting, Ms. Bausch follows the course of the myth: by disobeying the decree that he not look at his wife until they have left the Underworld, Orpheus loses Eurydice forever. He is condemned to wander the Earth, lonely and tormented, until he his torn to shreds by the Maenads. This gruesome conclusion is not depicted onstage; we simply see the dead Eurydice and her distraught husband in a final tableau as the light fades.

The Paris Opera Ballet‘s production, vivid in its simplicity and superbly performed by dancers and musicians alike, made for an absorbing evening. A packed house seemed to be keenly attentive to the narrative; the silence in the theatre was palpable. The only slight drawback in the presentation was the need for two rather long set-changing pauses during the first half of the evening; the house lights were brought to quarter and the audience began to chatter. Fortunately, order was quickly restored once the music started up again. The second act, with its unbroken spell of impending doom and its heart-breaking rendering of the great lament “J’ai perdu mon Eurydice” by the superb mezzo-soprano Maria Riccarda Wesseling – the audience seemed scarcely to draw breath while she spun out a miraculous thread of sound in the aria’s final verse – was as fine a half-hour as I have ever spent in the theatre.

The opera was sung in German, with the chorus seated in the orchestra pit. Each of the three principal roles in the opera is doubled by a dancer and a singer. The three singers, clad in simple black gowns, move about the stage and sometimes participate in the action. So fine were the musical aspects of the performance that the opera could well have stood alone, even without the excellent choreography.

Ms. Wesseling (above) was a revelation; her timbre reminded me at times of the younger days of Waltraud Meier and she shares with that great artist an intensity and personal commitment that make her singing resonate on an emotional level. Ms. Wesseling’s sustained and superbly coloured rendering of “J’ai perdu mon Eurydice” – with remarkable dynamic gradations – was so poignant; how I wish we could have her at The Met, as Gluck’s Iphigenie perhaps. The two sopranos, Yun Jung Choi (Eurydice) and Zoe Nicolaidou (Amour), gave lovely performances. Conductor Manlio Benzi wrought the score with clarity and dramatic nuance, wonderfully carried out by the musicians and singers of the Balthasar-Neumann Ensemble.

In this powerful musical setting, Ms. Bausch moves her dancers with dignity and grace; the ritualistic passages for female ensemble evoked thoughts of Martha Graham, and reminded Kokyat of Lydia Johnson’s stylishly flowing images of sisterhood. As Orfeo, Nicolas Paul looked spectacular in flesh-tone briefs, his torso god-like and his anguish expressed by every centimeter of his physique. Tall and radiant, Alice Renavand looked tres chic in her red gown as Eurydice. Charlotte Ranson was a lively angel in white as Amour.

It was in the second half of the evening where Ms. Bausch’s vision transcended theatricality and took on a deeply personal aspect. Nicolas Paul as Orpheus strove movingly to ignore his wife’s pleas to look her in the face; when at last he could no longer withstand her torment, the fatal moment comes. Ms Renavand collapses on her singer-counterpart’s body and remains prone and absolutely still as Ms. Wesseling sings the great lament. Mr. Paul kneels, facing upstage, in a pool of light which accentuates the gleaming sweat on his back. In this simple tableau, so much is expressed without movement of any kind. The voice of Orpheus in his grief fills the space and the soul.

The Dancers:

Alice Renavand (Eurydice), Nicolas Paul (Orphée), Charlotte Ranson (Amour)

The Singers:

Orpheus: Maria Riccarda Wesseling
Eurydice: Yun Jung Choi
Amore: Zoe Nicolaidou

July 21, 2012