Tag: Met Opera

Oberlin Orchestra & Choral Ensembles/Carnegie Hall

Above: Maestro Raphael Jiménez with the Oberlin Orchestra at Carnegie Hall; photo by Fadi Kheir

Author: Brad S Ross

Friday January 20th, 2023 – On Friday evening, New York audiences were once again treated to a fine performance by the Oberlin Orchestra and Choral Ensembles as they returned to Carnegie Hall for the first time (publicly, anyway) since January 19, 2019. They were conducted by Oberlin Orchestras Director Raphael Jiménez, who led the performers in a unique program that included one repertory standard, one New York City premiere, and one buried gem.

The evening began with long—very long—opening remarks by Oberlin College and Conservatory President Carmen Twillie Ambar and Oberlin Conservatory Dean William Quillen.

Ambar’s remarks focused on two of the evening’s headlining pieces having been written by minority composers and therefore made all the requisite extollations about the need for representing historically marginalized groups. As important as this message is, it would be nice to hear the music of under-appreciated composers like Will Marion Cook, William Dawson, Florence Price, George Walker, etc., without this ever-obligatory preamble. My continued hope is that someday we will be able to let their music simply speak for itself.

Quillen’s remarks, while less political, were a seemingly endless list of “thank you”s, not unlike an Oscar acceptance speech—only this time, there was no hope of the music playing him off. All the parents and staff in attendance no doubt appreciated the acknowledgements, but after a full quarter hour of talking I was getting pretty antsy for things to move along.

Nevertheless, once the opening remarks concluded, the Oberlin musicians were finally able to grace the Isaac Stern Auditorium with their abilities—and what a pleasure they were to hear!

First on the program was Johannes Brahms’s Tragic Overture, Op. 81, from 1880. There’s not much one can say about this work that hasn’t already been expressed over the last one hundred and forty years, so I won’t labor on it here. It’s a pleasant and undemanding symphonic poem, lasting about fourteen minutes and chock-full of the lyrical gestures typical of that Romantic master. Needless to say, the Oberlin musicians tackled the piece expertly, but it did leave me wanting to hear more of their technical skills.

I was not left wanting for long, however, as the second work of the evening—the New York premiere of Iván Enrique Rodríguez’s A Metaphor for Power—immediately livened up the proceedings.

Written in 2018, A Metaphor for Power is a single-movement essay for orchestra lasting about thirteen minutes. Rodríguez—a 32-year-old Puerto Rican native—composed the piece as a comment on the turbulence and inequalities of contemporary life in the United States, despite the promise of its founding (the title, indeed, comes from a quote by James Baldwin). His use of social commentary through music was much more subtle than that of other recent protest works, however (Anthony Davis’s quite overt You Have the Right to Remain Silent comes to mind), making for a composition that was both cleverly referential and electrifying to hear.

The music opened with a bang before quickly diminuendoing into dream-like textures, complete with harp, mallets, and woodwind writing that sounded as though they had descended straight from Maurice Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé. A contemplative middle section featured, among other memorable effects, distorted quotations from “America the Beautiful” and unsettling vocalizations from the orchestra as they recited overlapping lines from the Declaration of Independence. A great crescendo announced the beginning of the third, final section, which was marked by dramatic gestures that were almost filmic in execution. It all came to an energetic and wickedly engaging ending that lit up the room with excitement.

Above: Maestro Jiménez and composer Iván Enrique Rodríguez take a bow; photo by Fadi Kheir

The composer practically leapt from his seat and ran to the stage to share an emotional embrace with Jiménez before they took their bows together. The moment was as touching as it was well-earned. The composer having been unknown to me until that evening, I must say that I look forward to hearing much more from him in the future.

Above: the vocal soloists for the Dett oratorio: Chabrelle Williams, Ronnita Miller, Limmie Pulliam, and Eric Greene; photo by Fadi Kheir

The final and most substantial work of the evening was Robert Nathaniel Dett’s oratorio The Ordering of Moses. Dett, a Canadian-born American composer of the early 20th century, became the first black man to graduate with a double major from the Oberlin Conservatory in 1908. He initially wrote The Ordering of Moses as a thesis project while completing his Masters of Music from the Eastman School of Music in Rochester in 1932. Dett later revised and expanded the work, however, and it was premiered in its final form by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra under Eugene Goosens in 1937.

Clocking just under an hour, the oratorio is divided into nine sections and is cast for orchestra, chorus, and four vocal soloists. Joining the Oberlin musicians for this performance were soprano Chabrelle Williams, mezzo-soprano Ronnita Miller, tenor Limmie Pulliam, and baritone Eric Greene.

Above: soloists Ronnita Miller and Eric Greene; photo by Fadi Kheir

The first section opened on warm instrumentation that favored the lower voices of the orchestra. A lone cello voice emerged for an occasional solo before Greene’s sonorous tones took center stage as “The Word,” describing the bondage of the Israelites under the Pharaoh. He was joined briefly by Miller, who cried out for mercy as the voice of the Israelites. The music was rather languid here, until a great exclamation of “Mercy, Lord” announced an upbeat transition into the second section, “Go Down Moses.”

A recent last-minute Metropolitan Opera debutant, tenor Limmie Pulliam (above, in a Fadu Kheir photo) then entered as the voice of the reluctant Moses, who is given the famous command by God, “Go down Moses, way down in Egypt’s land; tell Pharaoh: ‘Let my people go!’” (this section featured a particularly cheeky musical joke where Moses sings “I am slow of tongue!” at the most sluggish pace imaginable). The drama then moved fairly seamlessly into the third section “Is it not I, Jehovah!” as God affirms his edicts to Moses.

This was followed by a mostly uneventful instrumental interlude as the story was transported forward to Moses’s parting of the Red Sea (“And When Moses Smote the Water”). This exuberant, celebratory section was followed by two more instrumental interludes: “The March of the Israelites through the Red Sea” and “The Egyptians Pursue.” The former was an almost jaunty affair, complete with military snare and wordless chorus, while the latter featured brassy blasts and dramatic descending runs as the crashing waters swept away the pursuers.

Above: soprano Chabrelle Williams; photo by Fadi Kheir

Ms. Williams’s soaring vocals finally entered the proceedings in the waltz-like “The Word,” as the Israelites jovially sang praises to Jehovah. All forces joined for the triumphant finale “Sing Ye to Jehovah,” as the oratorio built to a final satisfying tutti instrumental blast.

Everyone performed splendidly throughout and the piece was met with one of the most enthusiastic standing ovations I’ve seen in a while, yet I couldn’t help feeling slightly underwhelmed by the music itself. Considering the scale of forces at work, the writing was not terribly economical. The instrumentation was often sparse and seldom were all of the elements brought together for fuller effect. The solo parts also heavily favored the male voices, leaving Williams and Miller very little to do for most of its duration.

This isn’t to say it was bad—far from it—, but it did leave me wanting a little bit more. Had Dett not died of a heart attack at the relatively young age of 60 in 1943, one cannot help but wonder what other and more exciting large scale works he might have brought to the concert hall. Nevertheless, it was exciting as always to hear a buried musical gem such as this get dusted off and given new life. It was a grand conclusion to another memorable concert by the Oberlin Conservatory musicians, who will hopefully return again soon to grace New York City audiences with another memorable program.

All performance photos by Fadi Kheir.

~ Brad S Ross

January 24, 2023
Oberlin Orchestra & Choral Ensembles/Carnegie Hall

Above: Maestro Raphael Jiménez with the Oberlin Orchestra at Carnegie Hall; photo by Fadi Kheir

Author: Brad S Ross

Friday January 20th, 2023 – On Friday evening, New York audiences were once again treated to a fine performance by the Oberlin Orchestra and Choral Ensembles as they returned to Carnegie Hall for the first time (publicly, anyway) since January 19, 2019. They were conducted by Oberlin Orchestras Director Raphael Jiménez, who led the performers in a unique program that included one repertory standard, one New York City premiere, and one buried gem.

The evening began with long—very long—opening remarks by Oberlin College and Conservatory President Carmen Twillie Ambar and Oberlin Conservatory Dean William Quillen.

Ambar’s remarks focused on two of the evening’s headlining pieces having been written by minority composers and therefore made all the requisite extollations about the need for representing historically marginalized groups. As important as this message is, it would be nice to hear the music of under-appreciated composers like Will Marion Cook, William Dawson, Florence Price, George Walker, etc., without this ever-obligatory preamble. My continued hope is that someday we will be able to let their music simply speak for itself.

Quillen’s remarks, while less political, were a seemingly endless list of “thank you”s, not unlike an Oscar acceptance speech—only this time, there was no hope of the music playing him off. All the parents and staff in attendance no doubt appreciated the acknowledgements, but after a full quarter hour of talking I was getting pretty antsy for things to move along.

Nevertheless, once the opening remarks concluded, the Oberlin musicians were finally able to grace the Isaac Stern Auditorium with their abilities—and what a pleasure they were to hear!

First on the program was Johannes Brahms’s Tragic Overture, Op. 81, from 1880. There’s not much one can say about this work that hasn’t already been expressed over the last one hundred and forty years, so I won’t labor on it here. It’s a pleasant and undemanding symphonic poem, lasting about fourteen minutes and chock-full of the lyrical gestures typical of that Romantic master. Needless to say, the Oberlin musicians tackled the piece expertly, but it did leave me wanting to hear more of their technical skills.

I was not left wanting for long, however, as the second work of the evening—the New York premiere of Iván Enrique Rodríguez’s A Metaphor for Power—immediately livened up the proceedings.

Written in 2018, A Metaphor for Power is a single-movement essay for orchestra lasting about thirteen minutes. Rodríguez—a 32-year-old Puerto Rican native—composed the piece as a comment on the turbulence and inequalities of contemporary life in the United States, despite the promise of its founding (the title, indeed, comes from a quote by James Baldwin). His use of social commentary through music was much more subtle than that of other recent protest works, however (Anthony Davis’s quite overt You Have the Right to Remain Silent comes to mind), making for a composition that was both cleverly referential and electrifying to hear.

The music opened with a bang before quickly diminuendoing into dream-like textures, complete with harp, mallets, and woodwind writing that sounded as though they had descended straight from Maurice Ravel’s Daphnis et Chloé. A contemplative middle section featured, among other memorable effects, distorted quotations from “America the Beautiful” and unsettling vocalizations from the orchestra as they recited overlapping lines from the Declaration of Independence. A great crescendo announced the beginning of the third, final section, which was marked by dramatic gestures that were almost filmic in execution. It all came to an energetic and wickedly engaging ending that lit up the room with excitement.

Above: Maestro Jiménez and composer Iván Enrique Rodríguez take a bow; photo by Fadi Kheir

The composer practically leapt from his seat and ran to the stage to share an emotional embrace with Jiménez before they took their bows together. The moment was as touching as it was well-earned. The composer having been unknown to me until that evening, I must say that I look forward to hearing much more from him in the future.

Above: the vocal soloists for the Dett oratorio: Chabrelle Williams, Ronnita Miller, Limmie Pulliam, and Eric Greene; photo by Fadi Kheir

The final and most substantial work of the evening was Robert Nathaniel Dett’s oratorio The Ordering of Moses. Dett, a Canadian-born American composer of the early 20th century, became the first black man to graduate with a double major from the Oberlin Conservatory in 1908. He initially wrote The Ordering of Moses as a thesis project while completing his Masters of Music from the Eastman School of Music in Rochester in 1932. Dett later revised and expanded the work, however, and it was premiered in its final form by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra under Eugene Goosens in 1937.

Clocking just under an hour, the oratorio is divided into nine sections and is cast for orchestra, chorus, and four vocal soloists. Joining the Oberlin musicians for this performance were soprano Chabrelle Williams, mezzo-soprano Ronnita Miller, tenor Limmie Pulliam, and baritone Eric Greene.

Above: soloists Ronnita Miller and Eric Greene; photo by Fadi Kheir

The first section opened on warm instrumentation that favored the lower voices of the orchestra. A lone cello voice emerged for an occasional solo before Greene’s sonorous tones took center stage as “The Word,” describing the bondage of the Israelites under the Pharaoh. He was joined briefly by Miller, who cried out for mercy as the voice of the Israelites. The music was rather languid here, until a great exclamation of “Mercy, Lord” announced an upbeat transition into the second section, “Go Down Moses.”

A recent last-minute Metropolitan Opera debutant, tenor Limmie Pulliam (above, in a Fadu Kheir photo) then entered as the voice of the reluctant Moses, who is given the famous command by God, “Go down Moses, way down in Egypt’s land; tell Pharaoh: ‘Let my people go!’” (this section featured a particularly cheeky musical joke where Moses sings “I am slow of tongue!” at the most sluggish pace imaginable). The drama then moved fairly seamlessly into the third section “Is it not I, Jehovah!” as God affirms his edicts to Moses.

This was followed by a mostly uneventful instrumental interlude as the story was transported forward to Moses’s parting of the Red Sea (“And When Moses Smote the Water”). This exuberant, celebratory section was followed by two more instrumental interludes: “The March of the Israelites through the Red Sea” and “The Egyptians Pursue.” The former was an almost jaunty affair, complete with military snare and wordless chorus, while the latter featured brassy blasts and dramatic descending runs as the crashing waters swept away the pursuers.

Above: soprano Chabrelle Williams; photo by Fadi Kheir

Ms. Williams’s soaring vocals finally entered the proceedings in the waltz-like “The Word,” as the Israelites jovially sang praises to Jehovah. All forces joined for the triumphant finale “Sing Ye to Jehovah,” as the oratorio built to a final satisfying tutti instrumental blast.

Everyone performed splendidly throughout and the piece was met with one of the most enthusiastic standing ovations I’ve seen in a while, yet I couldn’t help feeling slightly underwhelmed by the music itself. Considering the scale of forces at work, the writing was not terribly economical. The instrumentation was often sparse and seldom were all of the elements brought together for fuller effect. The solo parts also heavily favored the male voices, leaving Williams and Miller very little to do for most of its duration.

This isn’t to say it was bad—far from it—, but it did leave me wanting a little bit more. Had Dett not died of a heart attack at the relatively young age of 60 in 1943, one cannot help but wonder what other and more exciting large scale works he might have brought to the concert hall. Nevertheless, it was exciting as always to hear a buried musical gem such as this get dusted off and given new life. It was a grand conclusion to another memorable concert by the Oberlin Conservatory musicians, who will hopefully return again soon to grace New York City audiences with another memorable program.

All performance photos by Fadi Kheir.

~ Brad S Ross

January 23, 2023
Benjamin Bernheim in RIGOLETTO @ The Met

Above: Rosa Feola and Benjamin Bernheim in RIGOLETTO at The Met

Author: Oberon

Saturday November 26th, 2022 matinee – After reading several glowing reviews of the French tenor Benjamin Bernheim over the past few years, and hearing of his recent success in LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR opposite Lisette Oropesa at Vienna and Zurich, I decided to add today’s Met matinee of RIGOLETTO to my schedule. And I’m glad I did! This afternoon’s performance was strongly cast, from the title-role down to the Page and Guard.

This was my first time to see the Bartlett Sher production. The staging is inoffensive, with some interesting ideas; but the scene of Gilda’s sacrifice at the inn was clumsily managed. The set sometimes revolves like a carousel on high speed. Having been brought to the palace by the courtiers, Gilda seems eager when the duke comes to her, but then she seems humiliated when she emerges from the bedroom soon after. Having a bloodstain on her white nightgown might have been a telling touch.

In my estimation, Mr. Bernheim carried off top vocal honors. The voice is wonderfully clear and well-projected, with top notes that bloom. He is capable of ravishing soft singing, and he keeps the music fresh with subtle dynamic shifts. His performance was stylish and assured; I certainly hope we will hear more of him at The Met.

Quinn Kelsey’s Rigoletto (photo above) was sung with great power and commitment. His incredibly sustained “Ah no, è follia!” at the end of the “Pari siamo!” monolog was one of the afternoon’s great thrills, and throughout the opera, his vocal generosity seemed boundless. Whether it was the baritone’s decision or the conductor’s, “Cortigiani, vil razza dannato!” was taken at an absurdly fast pace, giving it a surface urgency rather than a deeper sense of feeling; but when “Miei signori…” was reached, the great beauty and tenderness of the Kelsey voice was at its most impressive. There were a few rather husky notes as the opera progressed, but overall Kelsey’s Rigoletto was a stunning performance. (I should mention here the beautiful playing of the cellist in the “Miei signori…” section).

Rosa Feola had many lovely passages as Gilda, though the sound of the voice is not truly distinctive. To me, she seems more of a lyric rather than a coloratura soprano, and some of the topmost notes tested her a bit. It would be nice to hear her as Liu or Mimi.

Aside from Mr. Bernheim, John Relyea’s Sparafucile was a big draw for me. The basso cuts a fine figure as the assassin, and his dark timbre is perfect for this music. At the end of his Act I encounter with Rigoletto, Mr. Relyea’s incredibly sustained low-F drew a round of applause.

In her Met debut role of Maddalena, Aigul Akhmetshina displayed an attractive presence and a plushy voice; she merits more Met opportunities. I consider Monterone to be a very important character in the opera; though his scenes are relatively brief, if they are powerfully delivered they can make a great impact. Today Bradley Garvin sang the role with vivid authority. As the courtiers, Scott Scully (Borsa), Jeongcheol Cha (Marullo), and Paul Corona and Brittany Renee (the Cepranos) were all excellent, and Edyta Kulczak’s Giovanna – clearly on the Duke’s payroll – had a memorable moment: as Rigoletto stands aghast at having been an accomplice in the kidnapping of this own daughter, the nurse flees the house with her suitcase. Brilliant!

How many times over the decades that I have been going to the opera have the singers of the Page and the Guard in RIGOLETTO captured my attention? Today was the first! Met choristers Andrea Coleman and Yohan Yi each stepped up to bat, and each hit a home run. Ms. Coleman has a bit more to sing, and she sang it prettily indeed; and Mr. Yi’s “Schiudete: ire al carcere Monteron dee!” was strikingly voiced. I borrowed this photo of Mr. Yi and Ms. Coleman from the Met Chorus’s Facebook page:

I met Speranza Scapucci when she was at Juilliiard; several of my young singer-friends who were studying there at the time spoke highly of her. Lately, she has come into her own, with prestigious productions on her resumé, including a debut at La Scala conducting Bellini’s CAPULETI ED I MONTECCHI featuring Ms. Oropesa as Giulietta. This run of RIGOLETTO marked her Met debut performances.

From the pit, Ms. Scapucci certainly gave us a lively RIGOLETTO; the opera swept by with a feeling of inevitability, yet she also had a handle on the more reflective passages. The only drawback, really, was her tendency to let the brass players cover the voices; things got out of hand in the ‘storm’ trio in the final act, where Mlles. Feola and Akhmetshina and Mr. Relyea were giving their all, to no avail.

Metropolitan Opera House Saturday November 26th, 2022 matinee
RIGOLETTO Giuseppe Verdi Rigoletto...............Quinn Kelsey Gilda...................Rosa Feola Duke of Mantua..........Benjamin Bernheim Maddalena...............Aigul Akhmetshina Sparafucile.............John Relyea Monterone...............Bradley Garvin Borsa...................Scott Scully Marullo.................Jeongcheol Cha Count Ceprano...........Paul Corona Countess Ceprano........Brittany Renee Giovanna................Edyta Kulczak Page....................Andrea Coleman Guard...................Yohan Yi
Conductor...............Speranza Scappucci

~ Oberon

November 25, 2022
@ My Met Score Desk for PETER GRIMES

Above: Allan Clayton as Peter Grimes; a Met Opera photo

NOTE: This article was delayed due to problems with Typepad. Photos may be slow to load, and the musical excerpt may not play.

Saturday October 28th, 2022 matinee – I didn’t like the Met’s current PETER GRIMES production, which premiered in 2008, when I saw it in the House, but later I watched it on DVD and found it thrilling. For this revival, I pondered getting a seat with a view, but then opted for practicality and took a score desk.

I first saw GRIMES in 1983; it was a day I shall never forget. We’d been to SIMON BOCCANEGRA in the afternoon, and I was exhausted; sitting there waiting for GRIMES to begin, I thought “I’ll never make it to to end.” But moments after the curtain rose, Jon Vickers delivered his blazing first line, “I swear by almighty God…”, stepping on Swallow’s line in his impatience, and from that moment on, I was riveted. Vickers, his colleagues Elisabeth Söderström and Thomas Stewart, and a stellar lineup of singing actors (Jean Kraft, Lili Chookasian, Jerome Hines, Dale Duesing, Ezio Flagello, and Robert Nagy) gave me a thrilling first GRIMES, under the baton of the great Sir John Pritchard.

In the ensuing years, I experienced two magnificent portrayals of Grimes at The Met: Philip Langridge and Anthony Dean Griffey each made an overwhelming impression. This afternoon, the British tenor Allan Clayton staked out his own claim to the role with a stunningly sung performance. I first heard the voice of Allan Clayton on the excellent Decca DVD entitled Britten’s Endgame.

The Met Orchestra were on top form this afternoon, and the opera’s interludes – well-beloved as a concert ‘suite’ – were by turns painfully beautiful and searingly violent. The conductor, Nicholas Carter, was at his finest in these glorious passages. But he was less successful when solo voices were singing, sometimes giving too much volume and either covering the singers or leaving them to struggle for a heftier sound. The Met Chorus, with so much to do in this opera, were simply grand: “O tide that waits for no man…spare our coasts!“

Allan Clayton’s Grimes was more lyrical in sound than the other tenors I have heard live in the role, though he has good cutting power when he needs it. It was in the poetic passages of the music that the tenor made our hearts ache for this hapless, misunderstood man. From the start, his wonderfully clear diction made every word count. In the opening scene in the court, telling of the death of the first apprentice, Mr. Clayton drew us in.

As the opera unfolds, the character’s hopes for a new life are raised, only to be dashed. Mr. Clayton’s extraordinarily expressive singing caught every nuance of these shifts in Grimes’s mental state. His poignant “Great Bear and Pleiades“, where he sings of the “…clouds of human grief…” along with “What harbour shelters peace?, and “In dreams I’ve built myself some kindlier home” were hauntingly sung, in contrast to the deranged scene in which he torments the apprentice and eventually sends the boy down the sea cliff to his doom. My feeling is that Mr. Clayton’s Grimes may be the closest to Peter Pears’ in vocally capturing the personality of the doomed fisherman. Mr. Clayton’s performance deservedly won the audience’s vociferous approval.

Soprano Laura Wilde made an unexpected Met debut this afternoon as Ellen Orford. Her voice, with a somewhat girlish timbre, was appealing in her Act II scene with the apprentice, John, and especially so in her third act Embroidery aria. In more dramatic passages, the conductor sometimes failed to do the right thing, leaving Ms. Wilde to push the tone. The soprano and Mr. Clayton were well-matched in general, She was warmly received by the audience.

Balstrode fills an odd place in the opera: as one of the few true friends and defenders of Grimes, the character is key; but Britten does not give him all that much to sing. Adam Plachetka was fine in the role today.

The librettist and composer create expert character studies amongst the townsfolk of The Borough, affording wonderful opportunities for today’s cast. Prime among these is Swallow, splendidly voiced this afternoon by the excellent Patrick Carfizzi.

Two mezzo roles offered Denyce Graves and Michaela Martens many choice phrases as Auntie and Mrs. Sedley respectively. After a few warm-up notes, Ms. Graves sounded very well; “A joke’s a joke, and fun is fun!” she jibed sarcastically. Ms. Martens, with the meatier role of one of the opera’s most despicable characters (a busybody and gossip with a drug addiction,) got a round of laughs from the crowd with “I’ve never been in a pub in my life!” and pulled out some darkish chest tones at “Murder most foul it is!” and “Crime, which my hobby is...”

Harold Wilson as Hobson kicked the opera off with his strong-voiced summons of Grimes to take the oath; later, Hobson tries to evade Ellen’s offer to accompany him to pick up Grimes’s next apprentice. Chad Shelton (Bob Boles) and Justin Austin (Ned Keene) each made their mark, and the always-effective Tony Stevenson excelled as the Reverend Horace Adams. As Auntie’s two nieces, Brandie Sutton and Maureen McKay sang prettily; they were joined by Mlles. Wilde and Graves in the opera’s pensive quartet, one of the score’s unique highlights.

With this performance, PETER GRIMES seemed to edge out BILLY BUDD as my favorite Britten opera; however, that pendulum might swing back if I ever get to see BILLY BUDD again, just as the very top spot on my list of favorite operas has shifted between ARIADNE AUF NAXOS and ELEKTRA for years.

PETER GRIMES is a cruel opera; the characters (well, except for Ellen) each have a mean streak, and zero tolerance for anyone who is ‘different’. Growing up in a similar small town, where everyone knows (and minds) everyone else’s business, I learned to keep mostly to myself, leaving the world behind to live in my own dream-space filled with opera, and with longings I didn’t understand. Like Peter, I had an understanding girlfriend who protected me in a way, and soothed my sadness. My classmates were cruel, but things never turned brutal, as they do in The Borough: “Bring the branding iron and knife…what’s done now is done for life!” I sometimes wonder how I endured those long, worrisome days.

Metropolitan Opera House October 28th, 2022 matinee
PETER GRIMES Britten Peter Grimes............Allan Clayton Ellen Orford............Laura Wilde (debut) Captain Balstrode.......Adam Plachetka Mrs. Sedley.............Michaela Martens Auntie..................Denyce Graves Niece...................Brandie Sutton Niece...................Maureen McKay Hobson..................Harold Wilson Swallow.................Patrick Carfizzi Bob Boles...............Chad Shelton Rev. Horace Adams.......Tony Stevenson Ned Keene...............Justin Austin John....................Brandon Chosed Villagers: Helena Brown, Ross Benoliel, Scott Dispensa, Ned Hanlon, Jeremy Little, Patrick Miller, Steven Myles, Earle Patriarco, Jonathan Scott, Meredith Woodend, Yohan Yi
Conductor...............Nicholas Carter

Settling in at my desk well before curtain time. I opened the old, heavy score I had taken from the library, and found the incredible inscription shown below. It means that Benjamin Britten actually held this score in his hands.

~ Oberon

October 30, 2022
@ The Met’s Opening Night ~ MEDEA

Tuesday September 27th, 2022 – The Metropolitan Opera opened their 2022-2023 season this evening with the Met premiere of Cherubini’s MEDEA. Originally performed in French – the opera’s world premiere took place on March 13th, 1797, at the Théâtre Feydeau in Paris – MEDEA in its Italian version became one of Maria Callas’s greatest triumphs.

This was my fourth time experiencing MEDEA in the theatre. In 1974, the New York City Opera staged the work for their premiere singing-actress, Maralin Niska, who was magnificent in the role. Incredibly, in 1982, the Company offered another new production of the work – somewhat more timeless in feeling – with Grace Bumbry very effective in the title-role. In 1987, the opera was given in Bridgeport, Connecticut, in a traditional setting; Gilda Cruz-Romo sang Medea. Gilda, a longtime favorite of mine, was not ideally suited to the role but she still had plenty of voice a her disposal; it was the last time I ever saw her onstage.

Met Opening Night tickets being prohibitively expensive, I took a score desk for this performance; I plan to go a second time to have a view of the sets and costumes. This evening was a huge personal triumph for Sondra Radvanovsky; singing to a sold out house – a real rarity at The Met in this day and age – she won a thunderous ovation of the kind singers like Tebaldi, Nilsson, Rysanek, and Dame Gwyneth Jones used to garner. Sondra deserved every decibel, for she threw herself into the difficult and demanding role with total commitment.

The evening opened with the national anthem. I have always love singing it, but when we came to the words “…o’er the land of the free…” and was suddenly overcome with grief. We seem to be rushing headlong to our doom as a great democracy; I am hoping I won’t live long enough to experience the bitter end.

MEDEA itself is maddeningly uneven: thrilling passages – mainly for the title-character – alternate with routine music; conductor Carlo Rizzi led a performance that was more dutiful than inspired. It was in the individual singers that the evening made its musical impact; chorus and orchestra played a vital role in keeping the opera afloat when the main characters were otherwise occupied.

Matthew Polenzani’s Giasone is quite different from that of such earlier stalwarts in this music as Jon Vickers and James McCracken: more lyrical and thus more vulnerable. Polenzani sang beautifully, and his voice carried perfectly in the big hall. His expressive range veered from poetic (with his bride) to defiant (dealing with his ex-), to ultimate despair as he watched his entire world go up in flames.

Janai Brugger’s Glauce made much of what is a rather ungrateful role; Glauce has a very demanding aria early in the opera and thereafter is eclipsed both musically and dramatically by her rival, Medea. Ms. Brugger’s voice sails easily into the hall, and she combined full-toned lyricism with technical assurance.

Michele Pertusi has had a long and distinguished career, and tonight, as Creon, he was most impressive. The voice is steady and sure, and it fills the house. It’s always wonderful to hear a native Italian making the most of the words. Pertusi’s Creon was outstanding, establishing real authority.

I had previously experienced Ekaterina Gubanova as a powerful Cassandra in a concert performance of LES TROYENS, and as Brangaene in a concert version of Act II of TRISTAN UND ISOLDE where she sounded a bit taxed in her upper range. Tonight, as Medea’s faithful companion, Neris, Ms. Gubanova was superb. Her poignant aria, with its haunting bassoon accompaniment, was the musical centerpiece of the evening. The singer seemed to hold the house under a spell as she sang of her devotion to her mistress, winning warm applause at the aria’s end, and an enthusiastic round of bravas at her bows.

Mille bravi! to Met principal bassoonist Evan Epifanio for his gorgeously mellow playing in Neris’s aria; he and Ms. Gubanova ideally complimented one another.

Witnessing the Radvanovsky triumph was vastly pleasing to me, as I have been a great admirer of the diva since her days as a Met Young Artist. In her many performances that I’ve experienced, she has always seemed to have a unique gift for making opera seem important. Sondra’s dynamic range is her greatest gift: the incredible focus and power of her highest notes can be followed moments later by a shimmeringly “alive” pianissimo. And she has an enthralling stage presence: a fearless actress, she seems to become the woman she is portraying. All this made her Medea a holy terror.

Medea makes a sneaky entrance, and soon she is alone with her former lover/husband, to whom she pours out her emotions in the great aria “Dei tuoi figli la madre…“; here, the Radvanovsky voice ranges from extraordinary tenderness to blind fury. I might have wished for a more chesty expression at “Nemici senza cor!” (Sondra really opened the chest range in Act II!) but the soprano knew what she was about. Polenzani gave a powerful response, eliciting a blistering, sustained top note from the furious sorceress. They quarreled on, to brilliant effect.

Act II commences without a break (thank god they didn’t bring up the houselights to quarter!) and Sondra, who had had a couple of throaty notes in Act I, was now blazing away on all cylinders, the voice fresh as can be, and the increasing use of chest voice adding to the thrills. Medea’s pleadings to Creon to be given one more day in Corinth cover a wide range of cajoling and deceit…Sondra and Mr. Pertusi were electrifying here. And when she won, Sondra celebrated her success: Medea now has time to work her destructive spells.

Following Neris’s gorgeous aria, sounds of the wedding ceremony are heard, with the chorus invoking the gods to bless Glauce and Giasone. Medea counters this with diabolical mutterings of her own, cursing the crowd with a starkly chested “Rabia infernal!“. Then, suddenly, she sails up to a vibrant final phrase. I admit I was kind of hoping Sondra would “take the fifth” here, as Callas sometimes did, but that notion was lost in the barrage of applause.

Act III is only about 30 minutes long, and is preceded by an over-long prelude. Sondra again stuns us with her powerful “Numi, venite a me!” and then gives us her finest, most magical singing of the evening with “Del fiero duol!” capped by en enormous high note. Polenzani, maddened by grief, assails her: “Our sons! What was their crime that they deserved to die?”…to which she answers, “They were your children!”

I stood up from my desk to watch the finale: flames are licking at the walls of the temple; the corpses of the two boys are lying on the floor upstage. Medea delivers her final line to Giasone: “Al sacro fiume io vo! Colà t’aspetta l’ombra mia!” (“I go to the sacred river…there, my shade will await you!”) and moves slowly to her dead sons. She settles herself between them, taking their bodies in her arms as the entire temple is engulfed in flames.

There’s a video of tonight’s finale – and the curtain calls – that is a wonderful souvenir of the evening. However, having been recorded on a cellphone, it gives no idea of the sheer volume and depth of the sound of a full-house standing ovation at The Met. To Sondra, it must have felt like being hit by an avalanche of affection. Watch here.

~ Oberon

September 27, 2022
Rysanek’s 25th Anniversary @ The Met

So many wonderful things have popped up on YouTube during the pandemic. An audio-only recording of the Leonie Rysanek 25th Anniversary Gala at the Metropolitan Opera House in 1984 provides a document of a truly exciting performance…which I attended.

Listen here.

Before the performance began, I heard people seated near us asking: “Do you think she will scream?” The general consensus was that, being a concert performance, she would refrain from including her trademark screams as both Kundry and Sieglinde.

She screamed.

July 25, 2022
Rysanek’s 25th Anniversary @ The Met

So many wonderful things have popped up on YouTube during the pandemic. An audio-only recording of the Leonie Rysanek 25th Anniversary Gala at the Metropolitan Opera House in 1984 provides a document of a truly exciting performance…which I attended.

Listen here.

Before the performance began, I heard people seated near us asking: “Do you think she will scream?” The general consensus was that, being a concert performance, she would refrain from including her trademark screams as both Kundry and Sieglinde.

She screamed.

July 24, 2022
50 Years Ago ~ End of The Bing Era @ The Met

Above: Montserrat Caballé

On April 22nd, 1972, fifty years ago today, a matinee of Verdi’s DON CARLO was the final opera performance of Sir Rudolf Bing’s reign at The Metropolitan Opera. That evening, a gala concert featuring many great artists of the day paid tribute to the departing general manager.

I attended the matinee, and I tried to get a ticket for the evening’s farewell concert, but none were to be had. Here’s what I wrote in my diary about the afternoon’s DON CARLO:

“In spite of a few shortcomings, this was for the most part a superb and highly enjoyable performance; the opera itself is magnificent. Francesco Molinari-Pradelli’s conducting was dutiful, and not very inspired. I found myself wishing for a different maestro.

All the singers were perfectly suited to their roles. Two fine tenors – Leo Goeke as Count Lerma and Rod MacWherter as the Herald – sounded wonderful in their brief musical moments. Lucine Amara and Frederica von Stade graciously took on small roles in honor of Mr. Bing: Ms. Amara repeated her 1950 Met debut role as the Celestial Voice to lovely effect, whilst Ms. von Stade stepped back from such roles as Nicklausse, Hansel, and Cherubino to make a sensational Theobald, the queen’s page. What a voice this mezzo has, and how boyish and alert her acting was! Paul Plishka was amply resonant as the mysterious Friar (aka Charles V).

John Macurdy sang very well as the Grand Inquisitor, joining the great Cesare Siepi’s Philip II to make the confrontation of church and state a chilling scene. The Siepi voice remains impressive, giving us a wonderfully personal “Ella giammai m’amo“; his acting and bearing left nothing to be desired. Bravo!

Grace Bumbry as Eboli gave one of the finest performances I have heard from her. A couple of snags in the Canzone del Velo were quickly forgotten as she swept thru the fiery Garden Scene trio and on to a striking “O don fatale” which elicited great applause. Bumbry looks sensational onstage, though her acting is sometimes mannered.

Franco Corelli did not seem as vocally secure in the title-role as is the 1970 performances with Raina Kabaivanska, but still quite exciting. His singing was sustained and well-modulated, and of course he looks great onstage, though as an actor he sometimes went overboard. Still, Corelli always ignites the crowd. Sherrill Milnes sounded better today than he did earlier in the season; his Posa is a masculine, commanding figure, and he makes you care about the character’s fate.

Standing head and shoulders vocally above her colleagues, Montserrat Caballé was a sublime Elisabetta. Her regal bearing and innate sense of nobility made her physical stature irrelevant: she in unquestionably a queen in every sense of the word. She looked magnificent in the costumes, especially the rich red gown of the Auto da Fé scene. Ms. Caballé’s singing was thrilling from first note to last, and it is a pleasure to watch her sing: she expends no evident effort, whether producing an ensemble-topping forte or a shimmering pianissimo. Her farewell to the Countess of Aremberg (both verses) was a poised moment of poetic beauty. All afternoon, the diva seemed to inspire her colleagues, especially in the Closet Scene quartet which was a highlight of the performance. And in the great aria “Tu che le vanita“, Ms. Caballé rose to spectacular heights, pouring out the queen’s despair rich-toned phrases, and weaving in uncanny pianissimi of spine-tingling delicacy. The aria won a huge ovation. And then La Caballé ended the evening by holding the opera’s final note FOREVER! Her Elisabetta ranks with the greatest operatic interpretations I have experienced to date. Bravississima!!!“

Montserrat Caballé’s sensationally sustained final note at this performance is preserved on this recording of the opera’s ending from the broadcast: Cesare Siepi is Philip II, John Macurdy is the Grand Inquisitor, Placido Domingo is Don Carlo, and Paul Plishka’s is the Voice of Charles V. Listen here.

~ Oberon

April 21, 2022
@ My Met Score Desk for ELEKTRA

Above: Maestro Donald Runnicles

Saturday April 16th, 2022 matinee – Feeling no need to again see Patrice Chéreau’s intimate staging of Strauss’s ELEKTRA in the vast space of The Met, I took a score desk this afternoon to hear my ‘second favorite’ opera (my #1 opera remains the same composer’s ARIADNE AUF NAXOS). While the Chéreau production is a misfit at The Met, it is fascinating to watch on DVD: look for it here.

Today, The Met Orchestra under the baton of Donald Runnicles was the main attraction. They played Strauss’s astounding score for everything it’s worth: from the massive onslaughts of sound to those spine-tingling subtleties that the composer introduces at just the right moments. For the most part, Maestro Runnicles maintained a perfect balance between the orchestra and the voices, though – inevitably in this gruesome score – there were times when the voices were covered; and that might be what Strauss wanted all along. Mr. Runnicles also did everything he could to support soprano Nina Stemme, who was announced to be experiencing the effects of “seasonal allergies”.

If a singer needs to have an announcement made before the opera starts to the effect that she/he is suffering from some physical malady and asks our indulgence, this comes off as a cop-out. If said singer then goes on to give an abysmal performance, she/he has covered her/his ass, and the audience will be forgiving.

Today’s pre-curtain announcement of Nina Stemme’s allergy problem was not unexpected: she had been replaced (with success) by the debuting Rebecca Nash at the previous performance. But really, such announcements are unfair to the audience, who have paid good money to attend and who deserve to hear singers in their best of health. Ms. Stemme’s struggle today was palpable, and disturbing to hear. To me, it seemed like a simple case of taking on a role that is beyond her present capabilities. Signs of her vocal decline were evident in her 2016 performances here as Turandot and Isolde, and now – nearing the age of 60 – she has even less to work with. The result this afternoon was singing that was painful to the ear.

Lise Davidsen was a thrilling Ariadne earlier this season, and her soaring top notes were amazing in the music of Chrysothemis today: high B-flat is definitely her “money note”. But the rest of the voice is not all that alluring, as her Four Last Songs at the Met’s Gala for Ukraine in March hinted at: the sound can get lumpy and inexpressive. I am wondering if she is really the new goddess of sopranos, or just another flash in the pan. Time will tell.

Overall, top honors today went to Michaela Schuster (above, in a Met Opera photo) for her vivid and subtle singing of Klytemnestra’s music. The mezzo-soprano illuminated the terror and insinuation of the character’s music with her great verbal clarity, making her long narrative the most engrossing scene in the opera.

Greer Grimsley’s dark, growling sound was ominously powerful in the music of Orest; his “Laß den Orest…” was very impressive, and indeed it was he, rather than Ms. Stemme, who made the Recognition Scene – the heart of the opera – so riveting this afternoon.

Stefan Vinke did what he could with the brief, demanding, and thankless role of Aegisth. Harold Wilson made his mark as the Guardian, and the lively singing of Thomas Capobianco, set against the world-weariness of the inimitable Richard Bernstein, made the scene of the Young and Old Servants a perfect vignette.

Speaking of inimitable, Tichina Vaughn wonderfully chesty “Wo bleibt Elektra?” got the opera off to a perfect start. Her sister-Serving Women – Eve Gigliotti, Krysty Swann (interesting timbre indeed), and Alexandra Shiner – did much with their quick exchanges of lines. And the beloved Korean soprano Hei-Kyung Hong, as the valiant Fifth Maid who suffers a whipping for her brave defense of Elektra, sang poignantly, with a crystalline top note to climax the opera’s opening scene.

Metropolitan Opera House Saturday April 16th, 2022 ~ matinee

ELEKTRA Richard Strauss

Elektra………………..Nina Stemme
Chrysothemis……………Lise Davidsen
Klytämnestra……………Michaela Schuster
Orest………………….Greer Grimsley
Aegisth………………..Stefan Vinke
Overseer……………….Alexandra LoBianco
Serving Woman…………..Tichina Vaughn
Serving Woman…………..Eve Gigliotti
Serving Woman…………..Krysty Swann
Serving Woman…………..Alexandria Shiner
Serving Woman…………..Hei-Kyung Hong
Confidant………………Alexandra LoBianco
Trainbearer…………….Krysty Swann
Young Servant…………..Thomas Capobianco
Old Servant…………….Richard Bernstein
Guardian……………….Harold Wilson

Conductor………………Donald Runnicles

~ Oberon

April 16, 2022
Antonietta Stella Has Passed Away

February 23rd, 2022 – I have just read of the death of the Italian soprano Antonietta Stella; she passed away on this date at the age of 92.

In 1950, she made her operatic debut at Spoleto as Leonora in TROVATORE and soon after was singing at the opera houses of Rome, Florence, Naples, Parma, Turin, Catania, Venice, and the Arena di Verona.

Above: Antonietta Stella as Leonora in TROVATORE

In 1954, Ms. Stella debuted at the Teatro alla La Scala in Milan as Desdemona in OTELLO; she continued to sing at La Scala thru 1963 in the great soprano roles of Verdi and Puccini, and as Maddalena in ANDREA CHENIER. In 1955, she made debuts at the Wiener Staatsoper, the Royal Opera House in London, the Paris Opera, La Monnaie, and the Lyric Opera of Chicago.

She came to the Metropolitan Opera in 1956 as Aida, and went on to sing there thru 1960 as Cio-Cio-San, Violetta, Tosca, Elisabetta in DON CARLO, Leonora in TROVATORE,and Amelia in BALLO IN MASCHERA.

Above: Antonietta Stella and Eugenio Fernandi in the Aoyama BUTTERFLY at The Met

In 1958, Ms. Stella portrayed the title-character in Yoshio Aoyama’s classic production of MADAMA BUTTERFLY; the production remained in the Met repertoire thru the 1990s.

Antonietta Stella – Un bel di – BUTTERFLY – Met bcast 1958

Among Antonietta Stella’s commercial recordings, her DON CARLO (with Flaviano Labo, Fiorenza Cossotto, and Boris Christoff), her TROVATORE (with Cossotto and Carlo Bergonzi), and especially her ANDREA CHENIER (with Franco Corelliand Mario Sereni) are my special favorites. She is also heard on several “pirate” recordings.

Ms. Stella sang Minnie in the televised Japanese premiere performance of Puccini’s FANCIULLA DEL WEST (The Girl of the Golden West) given at Tokyo on November 2nd, 1963. The NHK Symphony Orchestra is conducted by Oliviero De Fabritiis.

Watch and listen here.

CAST:

Minnie: Antonietta Stella
Dick Johnson: Gastone Limarilli
Jack Rance: Anselmo Colzani
Nick: Mario Guggia
Ashby/Jake Wallace: Bruno Marangoni
Sonora: Arturo La Porta
Wowkle: Anna Di Stasio
Sid/Billy Jackrabbit/Jose Castro: Giorgio Onesti
Trin: Antonio Saba
Bello: Marco Scotti
Harry: Augusto Pedroni
Joe: Antonio Pirino
Happy: Paolo Mazzotta
Larkens: Mario Rinaudo
Postman: Takeshi Nakamura

And here is part of the Act II duet of Violetta and Germont from TRAVIATA with Ms. Stella and Tito Gobbi:

Antonietta Stella & Tito Gobbi – Dite alla giovine ~ TRAVIATA

February 22, 2022