Agnes Baltsa (above) and Placido Domingo in the final confrontation from Bizet’s CARMEN.
Agnes Baltsa and Placido Domingo – CARMEN ~ final scene – Chicago Opera Callas Gala 1983
Tag: Placido Domingo
-
Libre elle est née…et libre elle mourra!
Agnes Baltsa (above) and Placido Domingo in the final confrontation from Bizet’s CARMEN.
Agnes Baltsa and Placido Domingo – CARMEN ~ final scene – Chicago Opera Callas Gala 1983
-
@ My Met Score Desk for TRAVIATA
Above: Placido Domingo and Anita Hartig in LA TRAVIATA; a Ken Howard/Met Opera photo
~ Author: Oberon
Wednesday April 24th, 2019 – TRAVIATA is the opera I’ve seen more than any other. Along with Tosca and Turandot, Violetta is my idea of a test role; I’ll go to see almost anyone who tries it. From A to Z – from Licia Albanese to Teresa Zylis-Gara, from Ainhoa Arteta to Virginia Zeani – I’ve experienced every kind of Violetta: good, bad, or indifferent. Patricia Brooks, Anna Moffo, and Diana Soviero remain among the most memorable in the role; and in recent seasons, Hei-Kyung Hong and Marina Rebeka have struck gold in the part. Inexplicably, I missed seeing Tucci, Sutherland, Lorengar, Scotto, and Sills as the fragile courtesan. But as Lois Kirschenbaum always said: “You can’t go to everything!”…a notion she herself seemed to disprove.
Knowing I’ll be seeing the Met’s current TRAVIATA (which some have described as Disneyesque) next season, when Lisette Oropesa takes on the role of Violetta at The Met, I took a score desk for tonight; my main reason for being there was to hear Anita Hartig, whose Mimi and Liu in recent season captivated me.
Ms. Hartig’s voice, with a mixture of enticing vibrato and curiously effective straight tone, was sadly beset by pitch problems tonight (and, from comments I have read, throughout her run here as Violetta). The voice was annoyingly sharp, at times excruciatingly so. The allure of her timbre, her sense of lyricism, and her brightish upper range should have made her a fascinating Violetta; instead, it became something of a trial to listen to her.
Stephen Costello’s Alfredo has improved considerably since I last heard him in the part, though he too showed some vagaries of pitch during the evening. I sometimes feel that Mr. Costello doesn’t sense the heartbeat of the music, but tonight he sounded like an ardent, passionate young man with reckless streak.
Hearty applause greeted the entrance of Placido Domingo, the beloved tenor-turned-baritone, as Germont. After sorting out the voice for a bit, he settled in at “È grave il sacrifizio…” and thereafter sang quite beautifully, finding a nice emotional connection to Ms. Hartig’s Violetta in the great duet “Dite alla giovine“, which is the very heart of the opera. Some small chokes or sobs, perhaps to indicate empathy, were unnecessary; but Domingo impressed by singing the phrase “Dio mi guido…dio mi guido…” in his big aria without breaking for breath.
In comprimario roles, so important in the opera, the male contingent excelled: Scott Scully (Gastone), Jeongcheol Cha (D’Obigny), Paul Corona (Dr. Grenvil), the characterful singing of Dwayne Croft (Baron Douphol), and even – in the very brief role of Giuseppe – tenor Marco Antonio Jordão, each made an impression.
Maestro Nicola Luisotti’s TRAVIATA was overall on the fast side, which is fine. He suddenly sped up the final reprise of the Brindisi, which felt exhilarating in a way, and he took “Di Provenza” at a fast clip: maybe that’s what Mr. Domingo wanted. I could have done without that aria’s cabaletta, though.
The ballet music had gypsy charm at first, and vigor as the matador theme took over. I was recalling the many times I heard it at New York City Opera, when the incredible Esperanza Galán transformed this scene with her Flamenco flair, castanets blazing.
Listening to Violetta’s touching reply to Alfredo’s public insult, “Alfredo, Alfredo, di questo core…”, I was yet again reminded of one of the most painful things in life: living with remorse.
~ Oberon
-
Patricia Brooks as Violetta
I’ve seen more than a eighty different sopranos in the title-role of Verdi’s TRAVIATA over the years. Patricia Brooks’s interpretation of the role of Violetta in Frank Corsaro’s memorable production for the New York City Opera in 1966, with Placido Domingo as Alfredo, remains at the top of the list. Employing her rather slender and agile voice to optimum effect, she created a portrait of the doomed courtesan that has resonated over the decades. Paradoxically feverish and fragile, Brooks moved audiences – literally – to tears.
Listening again, nearly fifty years on, to my in-house recording of the Act I scena brings back a flood of memories of the myriad nuances – both vocal and dramatic – that gave the Brooks Violetta its unique place in the opera’s performance history.
One thing about Ms. Brooks in this role: she was forever making tiny changes in both her singing and her acting of the role, maintaining its freshness over the half-dozen times I saw her in the role. As Matthew Epstein, a great Brooks admirer, said: “No two Brooks Violettas are alike!”
Patricia Brooks as Violetta – w Molese – NYCO – 9~28~69
There were other Violettas who moved and thrilled me, but none quite reached the soul of the desperate woman who sacrifices her own happiness so that someone else may be happy.
-
Unenchanted Evening
Monday January 30, 2012 – The Met’s Baroque pastiche ENCHANTED ISLAND made for a dismal night at the opera. Placido Domingo as Neptune, in a Ken Howard production photo above, gave the performance one of its few perk-up moments. His voice, though aged, remains a distinctive instrument and he brought a real personality to his relatively brief appearance, something no other singer in the cast was able to do.
The Playbill featured a two-page synopsis. Drawing on two complex and brilliant Shakespeare masterpieces, THE TEMPEST and MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM, the plot is a mishmash of characters and situations that do not engage us emotionally, and rarely even theatrically. The libretto is cheesy and stilted; avoiding Shakesperian style, it has a contemporary feel at odds with the setting and the music. Forced humour abounds, and the characters are made to sing uncomfortably-structured sentences. Unable to understand much of the diction, I flipped on my Met Titles and regretted it because reading the script added to a sense of deflation as the first act progressed.
The opera is much too long. The 90-minute first act seemed to have reached a pleasant climax with the Neptune scene, but then there was another prolonged slow aria for Prospero. Oddly, the house lights suddenly came on at full brightness during the postlude of this aria, then were dimmed and turned off again.
Slow arias in fact abound; but that proved as well since none of the singers had the needed vocal facility to astonish us with their coloratura. The annoying voice of Danielle DeNiese as Ariel went in one ear and out the other; she made no vocal impression at all. Anthony Roth Costanzo, replacing David Daniels as Prospero, seemed over-parted in the big house; pushing for volume, his sustained notes sometimes took on a steady beat. At other times the voice vanished behind the orchestra. Joyce Di Donato was announced as indisposed but she had “graciously consented…blah, blah, blah.” Please singers: if you are unwell enough to need an announcement, don’t sing. We don’t pay Met prices to hear sick singers. At any rate, Di Donato only had one bad low note, but her voice – even in full health – lacks a distinctive colour, the sort of personal timbre that made singers like Teresa Berganza, Dame Janet Baker and Frederica von Stade so instantly identifiable. Luca Pisaroni tended to be over-emphatic in his fiorature which verged on barking at times. Lisette Oropesa sang attractively as Miranda as did Paul Appleby as as Demetrius. The libretto did them no favors, but they – and in fact everyone onstage – went at the words gamely enough, even if they felt foolish doing so.
The idea of doing a Baroque pastische is not a bad one but it seemed to me that between the tedious libretto, too many ‘laments’, and the too-busy plot, ENCHANTED ISLAND was going nowhere. Two 45-minute acts with a 20-minute intermission should have sufficed; instead there were expendable arias, unnecessary da capos, and overdrawn recits as the first act stretched onward. We left at half-time and so, it seems, did lots of other people.
Oberon's Glade 