Tag: Tuesday September

@ 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
GrahamDeconstructed: Steps in the Street

Above: Anne Souder of the Martha Graham Dance Company in Graham’s Steps in the Street; photo by Elisabeth Atjay

~ Oberon

Tuesday September 24th, 2019 – Kicking off their season of studio presentations, the Martha Graham Dance Company tonight gave us an up-close look at Steps in the Street, the second movement of Graham’s powerful and thrilling larger work, Chronicle. It was premiered in New York City on December 20th, 1936, and stands as the choreographer’s glorious response to the rise of Facism. As such, it resonates today when democracy is under threat from forces within our beloved country.

It was in 2012, at an invitation-only studio rehearsal of Chronicle at Joyce SoHo, that I fell under the spell of Martha Graham. I was only slightly familiar with her work at that time, but on that afternoon, I fell in love with not only the choreography but with the dancers, both as a collective and as individuals. Over the ensuing years, the roster of artists has inevitably changed; but my feelings have not. The current Graham ensemble fascinates me every time I see them.

Steps in the Street, which was considered a “lost” work for several years, was reconstructed in 1989 by Yuriko and Martha Graham, relying on a miraculously-discovered Julian Bryan film as a starting point.

On this absolutely beautiful end-of-Summer evening, my choreographer-friend Claudia Schreier and I went down to the Graham homespace on the 11th floor of 55 Bethune Street for Steps in the Street. We were totally prepared to be blown away, and that’s exactly what happened.

Brief excerpts from the old black-and-white film of Steps in the Street were being shown as we took our seats. Later, the Graham Company’s Artistic Director Janet Eilber used passages of this film as an introduction to the various movement motifs, which were then performed by the current ensemble of Graham women. Thus does this intriguing ballet grow from an opening passage of individual dancers walking backwards in silent, pensive poses slowly transform itself from a state of “Devastation – Homelessness – Exile” into a community of feminine determination.

During the presentation, projections of drawings being spontaneously created by artist Sohyun Bae were shown; working with ambidextrous haste, the artist produced a series of pictures which did not attempt to literally depict the choreography, but rather to reflect the artist’s emotional response to the dancing and the music.

A complete performance of Steps in the Street was then given. Leading the ensemble, Anne Souder, a lithe dancer of marvelous suppleness and intrinsic mystique, was spellbinding. Each of the ten women of the ‘corps de ballet‘ was able to display her unique gifts as an expressive artist whilst maintaining the stylized unity of the collective. The performance was simply fascinating to behold.

Alongside Ms. Souder, the participating dancers were So Young An, Alyssa Cybulski, Laurel Dalley Smith, Natasha M. Diamond-Walker, Charlotte Landreau, Marzia Memoli, Anne O’Donnell, Aoi Sato, Androniki Vasili, and Leslie Andrea Williams. They left me feeling both elated and hopeful.

Photos by Elisabeth Atjay from this evening’s studio presentation of Steps in the Street:

Anne Souder; in the background, a projection of Sohyun Bae’s spontaneous drawing

Walking in silence: Anne Souder in the foreground

The ensemble, with Ms. Souder in the foreground

The final moments of Steps in the Street

~ Oberon

September 24, 2019
Recital: Violinist In Mo Yang

Above: violinist In Mo Yang

Tuesday September 27th, 2016 – In Mo Yang, a young violinist of Korean heritage, in recital with pianist Renana Gutman at Merkin Hall.

It’s only rarely that I do something really spontaneous; my schedule is always so full (and commitments made so far in advance) that there are seldom any opportunities to do things that haven’t been planned weeks in advance. But as I was researching something on the Merkin Hall website, I noticed a violin recital listed for this afternoon. The repertory looked very inviting and there were still a few tickets available, so I headed downtown. It was an impressive and thoroughly enjoyable concert in every regard.

In Mo Yang is the First Prize Winner of the Concert Artists Guild Competition. In 2015, he also earned First Prize at the 54th International Violin Competition “Premio Paganini” in Genoa, Italy, marking the first time since 2006 that the Paganini Competition jury has awarded the top prize.

In Mo Yong, in addition to a very impressive technique, has the gift of playing from the heart. After only a few measures of the opening Bach, I knew I was in the presence of a musician of the finest calibre; by the end of the recital, his name was hovering in my highest echelon of favorite musicians.

The forlorn beauty of the opening theme of the Adagio of Bach’s solo Violin Sonata No.1 in G minor immediately revealed the key elements of In Mo Yong’s playing: radiant and sweetly resonant tone, a mastery of dynamic finesse, innate expressiveness, and seamless phrasing. In the second movement, a minor-key dance, the violinist produced cascades of notes with admirable clarity. A sense of grace tinged with sadness marked his playing of the Siciliana, and in the final Presto, he reeled off reams of coloratura, perfectly defined and beautifully articulated, creating a magical atmosphere.

Pianist Renana Gutman then joined In Mo Yang for the violin sonata of Leoš Janáček. Ms. Gutman’s poised musicality and her attentiveness to details of phrasing were a great boon for the young violinist.

As In Mo Yang noted in his remarks, the flow of lyricism in this Janáček work is constantly interrupted by injections of turbulence or wit. There was a wondrous immediacy to the playing of the two musicians, drawing us in to the many felicities of this quite extraordinary piece. The opening Con moto found the violinist’s passion well met by the pianist’s sense of rapture, right from the outset. In the Ballada that follows, the shimmering piano sets off the singing violin. Sustained beauty of tone as the music’s passion soars, then sinks into a delicate reverie. In Mo Yang ended this movement on an exquisitely sustained, evaporating high note.

In the Allegretto, the music is agitated and pensive by turns; these the mood swings were well-captured by our two players. The concluding Adagio begins hesitantly; then an enchanting melody looms up, only to stall and then re-start. A vibrant theme over glimmering piano leads to alternating passages of agitation and calm before the piece reaches its hushed ending. Splendid playing from In Mo Yang and Ms. Gutman: a really impressive performance.

Karol Szymanowski’s setting of three ‘Paganini’ caprices followed the interval. The first, in D-major, features a high, sweet melody which gives way to an energetic passage before returning to its initial mood. In Mo Yang’s lingering final note was a moment of pure poetry. The second caprice, in A-major, begins in a state of musical density. The violin ascends to a high, aching theme which increases in passion; here In Mo Yang’s mastery of control in the stratospheric register was so evocative. The most familiar of the three caprices, the A-minor, is loaded at first with brisk, swirling motifs. Its sparkle and ironic wit suddenly go deep and mysterious, then things get playful, and then dreamy. This traversal of moods was finely differentiated by the two musicians. After some dazzlingly ping-y plucking from the violin, there’s a false ending; In Mo Yang then ascends again to the high, hazy glow of his upper range before charging on with Ms. Gutman to the grand finale.

All of the qualities that make Felix Mendelssohn one of my favorite composers were evidenced in his violin sonata in F major, written and premiered in 1838. It was not published in the composer’s lifetime, but was ‘rescued’ in 1953 by Yehudi Menuhin, who accordingly tinkered with it before having it published.

After a gallant piano introduction opens the Allegro vivace, a pulsing motif develops as the piano and violin alternately switch from melody to rhythm. Charming variants of major and minor keys – and a lovely sense of Mendelssohnian flow – gave me a lot of listening pleasure.

Ms. Gutman sounds a low song which the violin takes up as the central Adagio casts its spell. Such expressive playing here; and then the music sails forward. And yet again, the heart-rending quality of In Mo Yang’s upper-range playing was a marvel.

Joyous flights of fancy abound in the concluding Assai vivace, the players shifting effortlessly between liveliness and subtlety. With stunning dexterity, In Mo Yang reveled in high-velocity playing here that filled me with smiling admiration.

Sheer gorgeousness to end the afternoon: a Karl Schumann romance was offered as an encore: exceptional playing with a high emotional value.

September 27, 2016
TROVATORE @ The Met

Above: Dmitri Hvorostovsky

Tuesday September 29th, 2015 – Having cancelled most of his Summer engagements to commence treatment following the diagnosis of a brain tumor, the great Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky valiantly came to New York City to sing for us at The Metropolitan Opera. The necessity of returning to London to continue his treatment regimen meant that the baritone would only sing the first three of his scheduled Met performances as Count di Luna in IL TROVATORE, but to me it spoke highly of his dedication that he made the effort to come in for these high-profile performances which also feature the first Met Leonoras of Anna Netrebko.

At the season prima, on September 25th, the audience greeted Hvorostovsky’s entrance with a show-stopping ovation. The evening ended with a tumult of cheers and applause as he took his bows, and the members of The Met orchestra flung flowers up onto the stage, signalling their affectionate regard for the great singer.

And a great singer he is…truly. Tonight – the second of the three performances in which he’ll appear – Hvorostovsky was again given a prolonged round of applause at his entrance. To me, his voice sounded, amazingly, more beautiful than ever. “Il balen” was the vocal high-point of the evening: superbly phrased and deeply felt, sustaining the poetic musings of a character often described as “evil” but who is, essentially, a real romantic.

Hvorostovsky’s Count di Luna in fact manages to engage our empathy when he is cruelly beaten by Manrico’s men in the convent scene; Manrico slashes his rival’s face, and Hvorostovsky’s acting here was wonderfully committed. All evening, the baritone kept the character very much in the forefront of both the music and the drama, from with his snarling “Io fremo!” as he listens to Manrico serenading Leonora in Act I right to the end where – if my ears didn’t deceive me – Dima chimed in on Azucena’s final high B-flat with one of his own.

Dolora Zajick’s Azucena was thrilling from start to finish; the esteemed mezzo-soprano flung her fiery high notes and cavernous chest tones into the house with resplendent authority, her monologue “Condotta ell’era in ceppi” a veritable whirlwind of emotion as she displayed an uncanny dynamic range from haunting near-whispers to thunderous outbursts. This evening she didn’t take the high-C in “Perigliarti ancor languente” that had been one of her trademarks in this role, but instead swept onward like an force of nature. Her expressive singing of “Giorni poveri vivea…” was counter-balanced moments later with the sweeping anguish of “Deh! rallentate, o barbari!” which commenced on a lightning-bolt top note and plunged into vivid chest notes. In the opera’s final scene, Zajick displayed marvelous control in “Ai nostri monti” and in the trio where she seems to be singing in her sleep, only to awaken to the horror of Manrico’s execution. Her triumphant B-flat was a glorious cry of revenge achieved.

The Korean tenor Yonghoon Lee made a positive impression as Manrico, despite the fact that his voice is rather lighter than we are accustomed to in this music. In fact, Lee’s entire repertoire seems geared to roles which call for more vocal heft than he seems capable of: I wonder if he might not be better employed – at least for now – as Alfredo, the Duke of Mantua, and Tamino.

But there’s no going back, and Lee’s impassioned commitment to both the music and the character of Manrico had the audience well engaged. Lee’s slender figure and intense acting gave the rebel leader a romantic, swashbuckling appeal; and his mixture of unbridled vocal passion with moments of hushed piano reflectiveness kept the music aurally stimulating. Oddly, he sometimes reminded me of Franco Corelli – not in terms of the voice itself, but with the smouldering ardor of his delivery.

Lee sang a beautifully modulated, emotional “Ah si, ben mio” and – if I am not mistaken – took “Di quella pira” in C with an endlessly sustained final note which was ever-so-slightly below pitch. The audience took the tenor to heart, and Mr. Lee was very warmly applauded at the curtain calls.

Anna Netrebko seemed to be forcing her voice in some of Leonora’s music; in pushing for a larger, darker sound, some of the inherent lyric beauty of her tone is drained away. Her over-leaning into the chest register was a detriment: this isn’t Santuzza. There were many fine passages along the way, but also some errant pitch and some glare on the louder high notes (she skipped the D-flat at the end of the Act I trio). The audience, needless to say, adored her.

Stefan Kocan was a powerfully-sung and dramatically commanding Ferrando, with Maria Zifchak a big-voiced Inez and my friend Edward Albert in the brief role of A Gypsy. Marco Armiliato’s conducting was ‘good routine’ – and better than that after the interval – and the orchestra played very well.

A program note explained that Ms. Netrebko’s costumes had been specially created for her. Her breasts were amply on display in the opening scene’s burgundy outfit, then at the convent she was all buttoned up, a prim and proper young ‘widow’ in black. She went in for a gypsy look for the scene prior to her (thwarted) marriage, with a nifty head-wrap.

For all the passing “ifs, ands, or buts”, this was overall a pretty exciting night at the opera: there was involvement, passion, and some very impressive vocalism along the way.

Metropolitan Opera House September 29th, 2015

IL TROVATORE Giuseppe Verdi
Manrico.................Yonghoon Lee Leonora.................Anna Netrebko Count Di Luna...........Dmitri Hvorostovsky Azucena.................Dolora Zajick Ferrando................Stefan Kocán Ines....................Maria Zifchak Ruiz....................Raúl Melo Messenger...............David Lowe Gypsy...................Edward Albert
Conductor...............Marco Armiliato

September 29, 2015
Score Desk for LA BOHEME

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

September 23, 2014
Notes on a Voyage

Tuesday September 16th, 2014 – Whenever I come away from a performance (or rehearsal) of the Martha Graham Dance Company, I feel the need to invent new adjectives to describe both the works being danced and the people dancing them. Tonight, as part of the on-going GRAHAM/Deconstructed series, we saw an open rehearsal of the 1947 Graham classic, Errand Into the Maze, and a new work, Notes on a Voyage, created by former Graham dancer Peter Sparling.

Errand Into the Maze, with its powerful score by Gian Carlo Menotti, seems startlingly fresh and meaningful each time I see it. Though billed as a ‘rehearsal’, the dancers – PeiJu Chien-Pott and Ben Schultz – gave a performance of deep commitment and generous physicality. Pei-Ju, luminous in a white shift, painted the terror and the ultimate triumph of her journey in a vividly nuanced performance. With his handsomely inked torso, Ben seemed an unconquerable force as he stalked his prey. Yet in the end, PeiJu overcomes her fear and casts him down. The packed house watched this masterpiece with intense focus and burst into an enthusiastic and richly-deserved applause for the two dancers at the end.

And now let me take a moment to congratulate the award-winning PeiJu Chein-Pott (above)! Read the story here.

Above: Blakeley White-McGuire and Ben Schultz in Notes On A Voyage, photo by Antonia K Miranda

In his striking multi-media work, Notes On A Voyage, Peter Sparling has summoned up a vision of Martha Graham’s lost 1953 work, Voyage. Stuart Hodes, who was among the original cast, gave valuable insights into the creation (and ultimate disappearance) of Voyage which evolved out of Martha Graham’s sessions with Jungian analyst Francis Wickes. No filmed or notated record of the dance remains, but it has been written about and spoken of in Grahamian circles over the intervening decades.

Mr. Hodes revealed that, after a two-year period of creation, Voyage premiered and Martha Graham was not pleased with it. She immediately began re-working it, but it never again saw the light of day outside the studio…until now, in Mr. Sparling’s thoughtful and provocative rendering.

The original Voyage had a Noguchi setting. Martha’s notes indicate she viewed the piece as taking place in a house on the edge of a desert; yet Noguchi’s design showed a boat. This paradox was somehow resolved at the time. For the current re-imagining, the space is empty aside from an extremely high stool in one corner, and a bolt of red fabric.

Mr. Sparling found the William Schuman piano music, and he conceived a brilliantly executed film to accompany the dance. The voice of Ellen Lauren is heard, reading excerpts – fragments, really – from Martha Graham’s journals and letters. The overall atmosphere compellingly fuses the elusive past with the vibrant presence in the personages of the four magnificent dancers: Blakeley White-McGuire, Tadej Brdnik, Lloyd Knight, and Ben Schultz.

Descibed as ‘a woman seeing herself thru the eyes of three men’, the central character takes on – in a succession of duets – the aspects of a goddess, a warrior, and a lover. Shirtless in fitted trousers, the three men display the agility and strength that Graham always demanded of her male dancers. Dancing first with Lloyd, then Ben and finally Tadej, Blakeley filled the space with both restless energy and moments of pensive calm, sometimes skittering up to the high seat from which she could view her own world. Blakeley’s performance was a pure astonishment of personal magnetism, her alluring physicality and her compelling gift for turning movement into magic gave me one heart-racing thrill after another. What a remarkable and generous artist she is.

A great night, then, in every regard. So lovely to find Xiaochuan Xie, Alessandra Larson, Abdiel Cedric Jacobsen, and Ian Spencer Bell among the crowd.

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

Upcoming: On October 30th, the Martha Graham Dance Company will present Appalachian Spring Up Close and Personal – a complete performance of Appalachian Spring in costume and with the classic Noguchi set pieces. This performance marks the 70th anniversary of the work’s premiere on October 30th, 1944. This one-night-only event will also feature film and photos from the premiere, and an introduction with quotes from Graham’s correspondence with Aaron Copeland as they created this beloved American classic. Mariya Dashkina Maddux will lead the cast in Graham’s role of The Bride. She will be joined by Lloyd Mayor, Natasha Diamond-Walker, Lloyd Knight, Xiaochuan Xie, Ying Xin, Charlotte Landreau, and Lauren Newman. Ticket information will be forthcoming.

September 16, 2014
James Levine’s Return to The Met

Tuesday September 24th, 2013 – James Levine’s return to the podium of the Metropolitan Opera House was the main reason I attended the season’s prima of Mozart’s COSI FAN TUTTE. The maestro last conducted at The Met on May 14, 2011 (WALKURE) and in months that followed numerous rumors circulated as to his health troubles and his posisble return to conducting. One usually reliable source indicated it was unlikely we’d ever see him in The Met pit again.

But then the the outlook began to brighten: Levine was spotted riding his motorized wheelchair thru Central Park. And then came the best news: on May 19th, 2013, Levine led The Met Orchestra in a concert at Carnegie Hall. Tonight he was back in The House where I first heard him conduct at his debut (and exciting but uneven TOSCA in June 1971) and where I have experienced dozens of his performances over the ensuing decades.

About a week prior to tonight’s performance, I heard that COSI was not selling well at the box office. When I relayed this information to a friend, she said: “Well, COSI is not a popular opera.” But I beg to differ: I think it’s always been well-attended in the past; but the current cast – aside from Matthew Polenzani – is not filled with particularly luminous names. In the past when singers like Steber, Stich-Randall, Leontyne Price, Dame Kiri, Carol Vaness, or Renee Fleming headed the cast, audiences were substantial and enthusiastic.

Although this evening’s performance was a red-letter date in the recent history of The Met (thanks to Levine’s presence), as a performance of COSI FAN TUTTE it was not particularly memorable. In general, the men in the cast tended to outshine the women.

An announcement was made as the houselights dimmed: Matthew Polenzani was suffering from a cold, but would sing anyway and asked our indulgence. There were only passing signs of indisposition in Matthew’s singing, and his technique and artistry carried him thru the great aria “Un’aura amorosa” with success: it was the vocal highlight of the evening. Rodion Pogossov was a characterful Guglielmo and Maurizio Muraro a fine Don Alfonso in the Italian buffo tradition.

Susanna Phillips kicked off her big Met season (she is to be Rosalinda in the new FLEDERMAUS and Musetta in BOHEME in the coming months) singing the notoriously difficult role of Fiordiligi with a warm timbre and an even range, meeting the technical challenges of “Come scoglio” successfully. Without effort, she dominated the duets with her smaller-voiced sister, sung by Isabel Leonard. Danielle de Niese was Despina: her voice does not really fall pleasantly on the ear, but her vocal characterization was flavorful.

The House – full in the upper tier but spottier lower down – gave Levine a big ovation when he materialized in the pit, though as Dmitry pointed out, if he’d been conducting for a ‘Wagner audience’, the reception would have been like a tsunami. Levine’s handling of the score and the playing of his musicians was everything one expected and desired. It’s wonderful to have him back, though curiously the two men next to me – who seemed like seasoned opera-goers – kept referring to him as “James Le-VEEN”.

I would have liked to have heard Phillips and Polenzani in their Act II arias and their big duet, but faced with a Gelb-intermission and the less stimulating singing of the other cast members, we headed out, missing the chance to join in what I am sure was a big celebration for the Maestro at the end.

Conductor: James Levine

Fiordiligi: Susanna Phillips

Dorabella: Isabel Leonard

Despina: Danielle de Niese

Ferrando: Matthew Polenzani

Gugliemo: Rodion Pogossov

Don Alfonso: Maurizio Muraro

September 24, 2013
UNION JACK @ NYC Ballet

Tuesday September 27, 2011 – When I think of my ‘top 25’ ballets by George Balanchine, UNION JACK is not on the list. I like to see it once in a while (mainly because you get to see so many dancers we love all in one fell swoop) but it doesn’t compare to things like SERENADE, FOUR TEMPERAMENTS or SYMPHONY IN C mainly because the musical score is just a melange of sea shanties, British naval themes and folk tunes strung together with filler by Hershy Kay. But it suits Balanchine’s purposes well for this ballet, inspired by the military tattoo he saw in Edinburgh, Scotland.

Tonight, serving as the second half of a programme which opened with the new OCEAN’S KINGDOM, UNION JACK seemed like the most fantastic bloody masterpiece ever made. A lineup of superstar principal dancers led the various regiments onto the stage in Balanchine’s superbly crafted processional in which seemingly every available corps de ballet member and most of the soloists are pressed into kilts to fill the stage.

One after another, beloved dancers marched into view: Joaquin de Luz, Charles Askegard, Abi Stafford, Jared Angle, Janie Taylor, Wendy Whelan and Maria Kowroski. Corny as it may sound, I simply loved seeing them all onstage together: these are people who have given me so many fantastic nights of dancing over the years. I love them both as artists and as personalities. As they stepped out in the ensuing solos and duets, the lingering gloom induced by OCEAN’S KINGDOM vanished. We were back with our Company and all seemed right with the world again.

Later, Mr. and Mrs. Andrew Veyette appeared in the dance hall interlude as the Pearly King and his Queen. They were sweet, silly and sly…and meanwhile they both danced very well too.

In the final segment, super-soloists Adam Hendrickson and Sean Suozzi joined Wendy Whelan for some loose-limbed high-jinx. Joaquin flirted with Abi and Janie and the three of them whisked about the stage with efffortless comic bravura. Jared and Chuck looked terrific, and then Mrs. Harvey (aka Maria K) came strutting along the quarterdeck as a high-kicking Wren.

UNION JACK might not be the greatest Balanchine ballet but as an antidote to the evening’s earlier offering it was sheer perfection. Several people around me stood up to cheer at the end as the NYCB all-stars came before the curtain to bow.

September 27, 2011