Tag: Met Opera

ASO ~ Gurre-Lieder @ Carnegie Hall

Above: tenor Dominic Armstrong (seated), conductor Leon Botstein, and soprano Felicia Moore onstage at Carnegie Hall; photo by Matt Dine

~ Author: Ben Weaver

Friday March 22nd, 2024 – Arnold Schoenberg’s gargantuan Gurre-Lieder, composed in 1900-03 (revised 1910-11), is unlike anything else in his catalog. With this lush and highly melodic work – for soloists, chorus and orchestra – he reached the ceiling of Romanticism and the only way out was to shatter it to smithereens. For Schoenberg, a mix of musical philosophy and observing the ravages of WWI signaled that music could not continue on the path laid out by his predecessors (Bach, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms, Wagner, etc. etc.) Schoenberg may have overreacted quite a bit, but, at a least with Gurre-Lieder, he left us with a grand finale of sorts to the excesses of 19th century music.

Gurre-Lieder’s libretto is adapted from Jens Peter Jacobsen’s dramatic poem Gurresange, written in 1868. It tells the story of King Waldemar and his love for the beautiful Tove, who is murdered by Waldemar’s jealous wife. Enraged, Waldemar curses God and is condemned to roam every night on wild hunts with his ghostly vassals. Waldemar is redeemed with arrival of Spring, and he and Tove are reunited as they become one with nature. Performances of this work are extremely rare, no doubt because Schoenberg calls for more than 150 musicians, an extravagance few organizations can afford, and none can afford frequently.

Part I opens with what Gabriel Adorno called “fairy land” music, a shimmering tapestry of harps, celesta, flutes, piccolo and some strings. Waldemar and Tove exchange declarations of love in extended monologues, set to ravishing Wagnerian and Straussian sounds.

Tenor Dominic Armstrong (above) took on the – let’s face it – impossible role of Waldemar. Schoenberg wrote the part for at least three different voices; not many singers have been able to possess them all. This is a Tristan/Parsifal/Tannhäuser part, with Tamino thrown in for good measure. I honestly don’t know who can really sing all this in a live performance. Dominic Armstrong is a lyrical tenor with a strong top, but sadly the voice disappears in the lower registers. And conductor Leon Botstein was not very kind, allowing the orchestra to cover Mr. Armstrong all evening. Armstrong’s strongest moments were in the lighter passages; his best singing came late in Part 3, in his final aria “Mit Toves Stimme flüstert der Wald”, when Schoenberg’s orchestration relaxed, allowing Waldemar to finally emerge.

Soprano Felicia Moore (above) possesses a large, blooming voice, that managed to break through the orchestral cacophony, in spite of an insensitive conductor. Her Tove was exotic and warm.

Mezzo-soprano Krysty Swann (above, in a Matt Dine photo), as the Wood-Dove who describes the terrifying details of Tove’s murder, was exciting in her long monologue. The voice is large and steely, the vibrato a bit loose at the top, but Ms. Swann possessed an excellent sense of drama, managing to build to thrilling and hair-raising final moments of the Wood-Dove’s narrative.

Bass-baritone Alan Held (above, photo by Matt Dine) has been a favorite of mine for many years. Though it seemed like James Levine always kept Mr. Held back at the Metropolitan Opera, where he should have been singing Wotan among many other roles, I still vividly recall a searing Wozzeck Mr. Held sang at the Met in 2011. It was wonderful to hear him once again, his large voice easily filling Carnegie Hall as the Peasant who is terrified by Waldemar and his men’s nightly processions.

Tenor Brenton Ryan (photo above by Matt Dine) was a very memorable Klaus the Jester, starting his long monologue from the house floor, then jumping on to the stage. Mr. Ryan possesses a strong, characterful tenor that made me think he might have been a better choice to sing Waldemar.

And German bass-baritone Carsten Wittmoser was a magnificent Narrator, his crystal clear diction perfect for the sprechstimme part, which is usually given to older singers nearing retirement or even non-singer actors (Karl Maria Brandauer and Barbara Sukowa, for example.) So it was nice to hear a singer still in his prime take on this role.

The American Symphony Orchestra was founded by Leopold Stokowski – who conducted the US Premiere of Gurre-Lieder in 1932, so it has a direct connection to this work, and they played quite beautifully, and certainly loudly. Here I must fault Leon Botstein for not being more considerate of his singers. Even the Bard Festival Chorale found itself drowned out by the orchestra, occasionally becoming just a mass of garbled sounds coming from somewhere at the back of the stage.

Still, any live performance – flaws aside – of this supremely difficult work is was a special treat to be able to experience. How long before another performance is organized in New York City?

~ Ben Weaver

Performance photos by Matt Dine, courtesy of Carnegie Hall

March 24, 2024
@ My Met Score Desk for CARMEN

Above: Aigul Akhmetshina

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday January 27th, 2024 matinee – Feeling no need to see a 6-ton tractor trailer on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera House, I took a score desk for today’s matinee of the Met’s new production of CARMEN. I wasn’t feeling my best this morning as I prepared to leave for Lincoln Center, and even considered staying home. But once the house lights dimmed, my spirits perked up, CARMEN is an opera I had not heard for a very long time, and the music seemed truly fresh to me today.

The main draw of the day was Aigul Akhmetshina, the gorgeous Russian mezzo-soprano, in the title-role. I fell under she spell when she sang Maddalena in Verdi’s RIGOLETTO here last season, which I saw three times.

Maestro Daniele Rustioni got the opera off to a fast start, setting a brisk tempo with the start of the prelude. Unlike some of the other conductors the Met favors these days, Rustioni is not a volume freak; the voices were – for the most part – clearly audible throughout the opera, and his tempi always felt right. I especially like his accelerations as each repeat of the theme of the Act II Danse Bohème sped up: exhilarating! The preludes to the four acts were beautifully played, particularly the touching music that introduces Act III. All the choral work was super as well, notably the lovely smoking chorus in Act I.

The first solo voice we hear is that of Morales, sung very impressively today Benjamin Taylor; it’s a Met-sized voice of handsome timbre. Equally striking was the singing of Wei Wu as Zuniga. Both these gentlemen deserve more opportunities at The Met.

Carmen’s friends – Frasquita (Sydney Mancasola), Mercedes (Briana Hunter), Dancairo (Michael Adams), and Remendado (Frederick Ballentine) – joined Ms. Akhmetshina for the quintet in Act II, excelling at the quick repartee. Ms. Mancasola popped off some bright top notes at the end of the Toreador Song and at “La Liberté!” to end the third act.

Micaela is the first principal character to appear, in the person of Angel Blue. This role suits Ms. Blue far better than Violetta did last season. She sounded warm and lyrical in the duet with Don José, etching in some appealing piano effects. And her aria in Act III – with its finely-played horn introduction – was a vocal highlight of the afternoon; Ms. Blue’s rich voice could be tapered smoothly to a sweet softness, making for a spine-tingling finish. Her final plea, with its stunning drop at “Ah, José!“, was beautifully handled.

Maestro Rustioni provided a whiplash start to the famous Toreador Song; Kyle Ketelsen sang the familiar tune engagingly, and he was excellent in his ‘fight’ duet with José in Act III. Later – before the bullfight commences – he and Ms. Akhmetshina shared a lyrical moment.

Above: Piotr Beczala

Piotr Beczała’s bio says he is 57 years old, but he certainly doesn’t sound it…nor look it, when I chatted him up at the stage door after the performance: he’s a very handsome guy, with an easy-going charm. His singing today as was most impressive, covering a wide dynamic range, from passionate, house-filling outpourings to ravishingly heady tones. He and Angel Blue blended voices perfectly in their Act I duet, trading phrases persuasively, and finishing off with Piotr’s amazingly hush-toned “Souvenirs du pays…”

Chez Lillas Pasta, after Carmen upbraids José for abandoning her when the trumpets summon him back to the barracks, Mr. Beczala gave us his poetic Flower Song, so ardently voiced…and with a fascinating pianissimo climax to the final phrase.

When the music turns darker and the menacing edge of jealousy overtakes Don José, Mr, Beczala unleashed the power of his voice to thrilling effect. The character’s descent into madness was set forth in vocal terms, with a manic desperation in his singing of the final, deadly encounter with Carmen.

Aigul Akmenshina established herself as one of the finest Carmens imaginable. Introducing herself with a sultry Habanera – the second verse sung with enticing subtlety – the comely mezzo displayed a warm, dusky timbre with a plushy low range and smooth forays to the top. Aigul’s Seguidilla put both the tenor and the audience under her spell with her creamy, gorgeous voice, topping it off with sustained final note.

Her singing of the the Chanson Bohème in the tavern scene veered from subtle to triumphant, but the fact that her later castanet song was not working on José as she’d expected unleashes her temper. After listening patiently to José’s love plea, Carmen returns to enticement. Zuniga’s arrival causes José to capitulate, and he joins the smugglers. My feeling here is that Carmen already hates him.

At the smugglers’ den, Aigul’s reading of the tarot cards was sung with doom-ladened low notes and a sense that time was running out for her. Her final meeting with Mr. Beczala’s José was fiery, their exchanges quickly descending to threats and taunts. In this production, José kills Carmen with a baseball bat, which I am glad I could not see; the audience gasped.

Ms. Akhmetshina’s is a welcome voice and presence on the Met stage, and I will always look forward to her performances; I also hope to one day hear her in Chausson’s Poème de l’amour et de la mer, for which I think she has the perfect voice.

The few times I glimpsed the the stage setting today, it looked cheap and junky. A real eyesore.

After the performance, I went to the stage door where I met Aigul and Piotr; they are such kind and lovely people.

~ Oberon

January 27, 2024
My 1st Time Hearing DIE WALKURE

Above: Birgit Nilsson as Brunnhilde

The Met’s 1961 broadcast of Wagner’s DIE WALKURE marked the first time I ever heard this opera which became, over time, my favorite of the composer’s operas. A recording of the broadcast was recently posted on YouTube. Listen here.

I remember that some scenes seemed endless to me, and that while the music was at times very exciting, it was the story that most intrigued me…especially the ending, where Brunnhilde was left sleeping in the middle of a ring of magic fire.

We had had a substantial snowfall the night before, and I went out to the field behind our house with the sound of the feuerzauber alive in my head. I made a circle of all the empty packing boxes and other trash from my father’s drugstore and set it afire. It was then that I realized I was in the center of the circle and would have to wait until the flames died down before I could escape. At supper, my mother scolded me for bringing a smokey smell into the house. It took a few days for the odor to dissipate.

Metropolitan Opera House ~ December 23,1961

Cast: Brünnhilde: Birgit Nilsson; Siegmund: Jon Vickers; Sieglinde: Gladys Kuchta; Wotan: Otto Edelmannl Fricka: Irene Dalis; Hunding: Ernst Wiemann; Gerhilde: Carlotta Ordassy; Grimgerde: Mary MacKenzie; Helmwige: Heidi Krall; Ortlinde: Martina Arroyo; Rossweisse: Margaret Roggero; Schwertleite: Gladys Kriese; Siegrune: Helen Vanni; Waltraute: Mignon Dunn

Conductor: Erich Leinsdorf

December 27, 2023
Eduardo Villa Has Passed Away

Tenor Eduardo Villa, a native of Santa Barbara, California, has passed away at the age of 70. Originally interested in musicals, he appeared in productions of Oliver!, West Side Story, and Paint Your Wagon before deciding to develop his voice further by studying at the University of Southern California, where his teachers included such luminaries as Martial Singher and Margaret Harshaw.

Upon winning the Metropolitan Opera Auditions in 1982, alongside Hei-Kyung Hong, Sylvia McNair, and Nancy Gustafson, Villa departed for Switzerland, where sang with Basel Opera Theater between 1983 and 1987. In 1986, he made his debut at the Paris Opéra as Verdi’s Don Carlo, and from 1987 to 1991 he appeared at the Munich State Opera.

When Villa began getting offers in the USA and Canada, he left Munich. Among his many contracts were appearances with Connecticut Opera at The Bushnell in Hartford, where I first heard his warm, passionate singing in BALLO IN MASCHERA, and later as an ardent suitor to Mary Dunleavy’s captivating Lucia di Lammermoor.

In 1992, Eduardo sang Jacopo in a concert performance of Verdi’s I DUE FOSCARI given by Eve Queler’s Opera Orchestra of New York. It was a very exciting evening, with soprano Martile Rowland and baritone Vladimir Chernov sharing enthusiastic ovations with the tenor.

Mr. Villa joined the Metropolitan Opera in 2002, debuting as Don Carlo and going on to make two dozen Met appearances (thru 2008) as Pinkerton, Don Jose, Calaf, Turiddu, Rodolfo in LUISA MILLER, Cavaradossi, Enzo Grimaldi, and Ernani.

I saw him at The Met as Radames in 2002 opposite Michelle Crider, and he was really impressive: a Met-sized voice with a nice Italianate ring to the tone. In my diary, I praised his vocal generosity, his ability to cut thru ensembles, and his sustained “Sacerdote! Io resto a te!!” at the end of the Nile Scene.

There is not a lot of Eduardo Villa’s singing on YouTube but there is an OTELLO duet with baritone Mark Rucker that gives a you a good idea of what kind of singer Mr. Villa was…watch and listen here.

~ Oberon

December 21, 2023
Dever/Domingo SAMSON ET DALILA ~ 1998

From the Palacio de Bellas Artes in Mexico City comes a 1998 performance of Camille Saint-Saëns’ SAMSON ET DALILA starring Barbara Dever and Placido Domingo. Genaro Sulvaràn is the High Priest, and Guido Guida conducts.

Watch and listen here.

Between 1992 and 2014, Barbara Dever sang nearly 100 performances with the Metropolitan Opera; I saw her excellent Amneris and Ulrica there. Genaro Sulvaràn sang the role of Count de Luna at he Met in 1999 and made a vivid impression.

September 19, 2023
Milanov~Bergonzi~Sereni CHENIER – Atlanta 1960

Above: Zinka Milanov

A performance of Giordano’s ANDREA CHENIER given in 1960 by The Met on tour in Atlanta has just popped up on YouTube. Listen here.

This was at the time when I was just falling in love with opera, though I had not yet discovered the Met Texaco broadcasts. Zinka was on the very first opera LP that my parents gave me; Bergonzi was Pinkerton on the first complete opera set I ever bought (the ‘second’ Tebaldi Cio-Cio-San); and not long after, I bought the de los Angeles TRAVIATA on which Sereni sang Germont.

One of the things I loved most about finding this Atlanta CHENIER was that the cast includes three mezzo-sopranos who – over time – were to give me so many wonderful memories: Belén Amparán, Helen Vanni, and Mignon Dunn. And just look at the Met stalwarts cast in the supporting male roles:

Atlanta, Georgia (Metropolitan Opera on tour) May 2nd, 1960

ANDREA CHÉNIER
Andrea Chénier..........Carlo Bergonzi Maddalena...............Zinka Milanov Carlo Gérard............Mario Sereni Bersi...................Helen Vanni Countess di Coigny......Mignon Dunn Abbé....................Gabor Carelli Fléville................George Cehanovsky L'Incredibile...........Alessio De Paolis Roucher.................Clifford Harvuot Mathieu.................Ezio Flagello Madelon.................Belén Amparan Dumas...................Osie Hawkins Fouquier Tinville.......Norman Scott Schmidt.................Louis Sgarro Major-domo..............Lloyd Strang
Conductor...............Fausto Cleva

So, despite the sometimes wonky sound quality, this recording is such a treasure to me.

May 29, 2023
Graham Classics + New Works ~ 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Oberon

April 23, 2023
Bach’s Matthäus-Passion @ The NY Philharmonic

Author: Ben Weaver

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Ben Weaver

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

Author: Ben Weaver

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~ Ben Weaver

March 26, 2023
Dialogues des Carmélites @ The Met

Above: Christine Goerke as Mme. Lidoine with Eve Gigliotti as Mother Jeanne, and their sister-nuns; photo by Marty Sohl/Metropolitan Opera

Saturday January 28th, 2023 matinee – An incredibly powerful performance of Francis Poulenc’s masterpiece, Dialogues des Carmélites, at The Met this afternoon. The John Dexter production, one of the treasures of the Company’s repertoire, never fails to move me with its utter simplicity and the clarity of its story-telling. It was lovely to see several small groups of nuns among the audience this afternoon.

The performance was somewhat compromised by the conducting of Bertrand de Billy; though his tempi and feel for the music were spot-on, he too often allowed the orchestra to cover the voices. This seems to be a trend at the Met these days, for the recent RIGOLETTO(s) and TRAVIATA I saw, conducted by Speranza Scapucci and Marco Armiliato respectively, suffered from the same problem. As there are no huge voices around nowadays – no Nilsson, nor even a Grob-Prandl, and no Cossotto, del Monaco, or Norman Treigle either – such waves of sound rising from the pit cause singers to either force or simply be drowned out. The Met’s huge space is hard enough fill in and of itself; having to compete with mega-decibels of orchestral sound must be daunting indeed. Perhaps some people feel that a high-volume orchestra makes opera more “exciting”…? Well, it doesn’t.

The cast today was peopled by expressive singing-actors, down to the smallest roles. Benjamin Taylor (Thierry), Paul Corona (Dr. Javelinot), Siphokazi Molteno (Sister Mathlde), and Jeongcheol Cha (Jailer) did well, though the last-named’s task – reading the names of the nuns condemned to death – was lessened in impact by the orchestra’s loudness; it’s an affecting moment, deserving to be better-handled.

Above: Piotr Buszewski as Chevalier de la Force, Ailyn Perez as his sister Blanche, and Jamie Barton as Mother Marie; photo by Marty Sohl/MET Opera

The Polish tenor Piotr Buszewski, in his Met debut role, displayed a handsome timbre and fine sense of nuance as the Chevalier de la Force. Laurent Nouri made his mark as the Marquis de la Force. Tony Stevenson was excellent as the Chaplain, and Eve Gigliotti made much of the moving role of Mother Jeanne. It is Mother Jeanne who brings forth the figurine of the Christ Child, the breakage of which seems to signify the breakup of the convent. In the end, Mother Jeanne, using her cane, walks with great dignity to the guillotine. Ms. Gigliotti made the character seem essential, and her warm, plush mezzo timbre is always appealing. Tenor Scott Scully and basso Richard Bernstein are the Commissioners who come to shut down the convent; Mr. Bernstein, ever the effective stage creature, eyed each nun with suspicion; his voice is strong and steady.

As Blanche de la Force, the opera’s central character, Ailyn Pérez (above, in a Marty Sohl photo) brought gleaming lyricism with a sense of fragility to her music. She forms a bond with the naive, optimistic young Sister Constance (Sabine Devieilhe); in their prayer following the death of the Old Prioress, their timbres meshed to magical effect. And in the scene where her brother visits her and asks her to return home, Ms. Pérez and Mr. Buszewski did some of the loveliest singing of the afternoon. Having fled the convert, Blanche seeks refuge, working as a maid in her old family home; but Mother Marie tracks her down and urges her to return to the fold. Here Ms. Pérez’s desperation becomes palpable. But at the end, stepping from the crowd to bid farewell to Sister Constance and to face her own death calmly, Blanche finds release.

Above: Alice Coote as Madame de Croissy and Jamie Barton as Mère Marie; photo by Marty Sohl

During the pandemic, I often turned to YouTube to keep music vividly in my life whilst live performances ceased, and I came upon a film of Alice Coote singing Mahler’s “Ich bin der welt abhanden gekommen” which moved so deeply. Watch and listen here.

Today, as Madame de Croissy, Ms. Coote held the House under a spell as the character’s horrific death scene was played out. For a woman whose faith was always deep and seemingly unshakable, the Old Prioress finds herself terrified as she faces her end, wracked with pain. Ms. Coote, a wonderfully word-conscious singer, made the scene the centerpiece of the performance. Both vocally and dramatically, she was living the role: a riveting singer and personality. Rapturous applause greeted her at her solo bow at the opera’s end.

Jamie Barton has a perfect role in Mother Marie, and she made a splendid vocal impression. Her wide-ranging voice, from dusky chest tones to searing top notes, was in peak form. She held the stage with authority, and finely captured the character’s desperation and guilt on having been separated from her sisters during their final hours on Earth.

Above: Sabine Devieilhe, photo by Caroline Doutre

How wonderful to see the French soprano Sabine Devieilhe on the Met stage! Having attended her Weill Hall recital in 2019, I have been hoping to see and hear her again…and now she is here with us. As Sister Constance, the petite and lovely Ms. Devieilhe was ideally cast. Her silvery, shimmering tones gleamed in the House, a contrast to the opera’s deepening darkness and sense of impending doom. In the end, her hope of seeing Blanche again gives her the courage to walk to the guillotine, her lone voice the expression of innocence and human fragility. Then the voice of Blanche is heard: she has stepped from the crowd to join her sisters in death. The two girls have a last moment together before fate overtakes them. Incredibly touching.

Above: Christine Goerke as Madame Lidoine and Jamie Barton as Mother Marie

Towering, literally, over the sisterhood, Christine Goerke made a splendid impression as Madame Lidoine. If some of the highest notes did not bloom as one might wish, Ms. Goerke’s presence – and her vocal authority – gave the afternoon its center. Her portrayal, so dignified, so lovingly maternal, so…human…was touching to experience. It is Madame Lidoine who leads the procession to the guillotine, by which time I was already weeping.

The audience, the quietest and most attentive to have been part of in recent seasons, hailed the singers with great affection and admiration at the end. I felt a desire to go to the stage door, where a large crowd had gathered; I particularly wanted to greet Ms. Coote, Mlle. Devieilhe. and Ms. Gigliotti.

The French soprano was in a rush, probably to catch a flight, but was very gracious and charming; she told me she is already booked for a return to The Met. Ms. Gigiotti signed my program in a distinctive way, matching her distinctive personality; I thanked her for some unique videos she has made (watch here) and for her past performances in works of Nico Muhly and Sergei Taneyev. Ms. Coote walked briskly thru the crowd; undoubtedly she had someplace she needed be.

The story of the martyrdom of the Carmelite nuns becomes even more poignant when one realizes that their execution took place just ten days before the end of the Reign of Terror. The women were beatified in 1906; this plaque commemorates their deaths:

It is always difficult to return to the real world after a performance like this; there was so much to ponder after experiencing this opera about man’s inhumanity to man. What harm had these nuns done that merited a death sentence? Why is cruelty so rampant in the history of mankind? Why do people feel a need to control the beliefs and lifestyles of others?

~ Oberon

January 28, 2023