The David S Operaworld blog

A series of commentary on the world of opera and of serious music hopefully with links to items of broader cultural interest, correlation with the subject at hand. There is plenty of room here for a certain amount of clowning around and general irreverence - not exclusive to me - but of course no trollers or spam please. Blog for coverage of the BBC PROMS 2010 - with thoroughly proofread/upgraded coverage of the 2009 Proms and of much else.

Friday, January 21, 2011

DR Kultur: DSO Berlin Live - Auspicious debut by Jonathan Nott with 20th century program. Christian Tetzlaff. Philharmonie, 16.01.11.

This marked Jonathan Nott’s debut with DSO Berlin – very likely the most auspicious guest conducting debut with them thus far this season. He opened with a Georg Friedrich Haas transcription of Scriabin’s Ninth Piano Sonata, Opus 68 (‘Black Mass’) – here labeled Sonata in one movement. Haas has tapped knowingly and deep into the rich colors of Scriabin’s piano writing, starting off with descending chromatic lines in winds, imitating brass - if not quite giving the dynamism of Scriabin’s original writing much of any boost. Elaborate figuration gets underpinned by ominous triplets on timpani – recurring motif one stronger hint of menace, mostly just intimated here, afoot – showing up on wood-blocks later on – surrounded by much flutter and arabesque all about.

Much rapid, fleeting arabesque in the strings, midway through this got answered by fluttering bird-call in flutes, other high winds over lightly insistent dotted rhythms in trumpet, winds and brass. Firm line of cortege would recur, framing this music to indicate or strongly intimate good structural firmness underneath. Nott, with DSO Berlin, relished the rich colors, drawing an always warm, supple response out of all sections of DSO Berlin – with ear keen to how this piece is structured, amidst much ornate finery. Nott’s strengths as a musician became very evident here – though perhaps working with tamer assessment of Scriabin’s late-period style than with how this music was originally composed. Eschewed entirely was undue heavy gilding of lines running therein – as might throw out of focus some of the rest. Perhaps a few knowing risks could have been employed – as could effectively be from prudent leadership Nott frequently provides.


Favorite and also recently touring soloist with DSO Berlin for the occasion was Christian Tetzlaff for the First Violin Concerto by Dimitri Shostakovich. This was playing slightly outside tradition of Oistrakh, Kremer, Repin, but of a very deeply probing quality to strongly compel, in the grand scheme of things, a broader, more universal perspective on what this music expresses – not just of Shostakovich’s life, tormented persona behind Iron Curtain alone. Tetzlaff, with lean tone, maintained keen ear, through spinning forth in opening ‘Nocturne’ of the DSCH motif, for structural character of developing it with all the rest - toward goal of revealing all probingly under contrasting perspectives of light and shade. No (insipidly) obviating underlining was necessary, thus none occurred. He was very engagingly partnered here by Nott, helping give solidity, foundation to orchestral argument interweaving with his thus far.

The starkness of the character of Shostakovich’s writing found Nott perhaps slightly inhibited in engaging such during later movements, but for ‘Nocturne’, he and Tetzlaff together were ideal. Reach into double basses starting the concerto, then into lower winds emerged deep and rich. By contrast, eerie calm thoroughly framed ascent into high reaches in the solo part, recalling similar writing in opening Largo of the Sixth Symphony. Through drawing precisely fine sonorities out of this music emerged as well a contained yet deeply internally passionate response to this music from Tetzlaff. Stoical framing of coda on starkly, yet deeply sonorously articulated arpeggio of deep rumination over closing lines from Tetzlaff to follow was also most apt.

‘Scherzo’ began acerbically dry, with Tetzlaff even hinting at clipping a few of his lines, but without undercutting their rhythmic profile. Response from concertato winds emerged slightly tentative in ensemble – with Nott then stoically glib at marking vigorous dance ritornello to follow. Tetzlaff made both gutsy and light his engagement of elaborate figuration to come – with element of fanfare characterizing his lines to the forefront. The modernism of the writing through fugato to follow, starting just past midway through, between both Tetzlaff and Nott stood out in stark relief.

Getting past one or two slips in intonation from DSO brass, Nott drew rich color out of winds and quickly improving brass for first variation to follow for the Passacaglia. Tetzlaff then entered, providing his lines measured noble restraint over then descending bassoon obbligato that could have been encouraged toward achieving firmer shape for how to start it. Tetzlaff restored focus to proceedings in full with simple restatement on forthright octaves of the Passacaglia theme. Descending line into precisely marked strong chordal pizzicato led to a quiet, measured, deeply foreboding close – into a thoroughly psychologically and musically worked out cadenza Tetzlaff accomplished. In firmly maintaining classical profile to characterizing this music, Tetzlaff made implacable motion forward as tempo picks up toward electrically charged anticipation of the finale.

Winds, not mal-propos opened the finale somewhat joyless, even matter-of-fact, but gained stronger character with ringing carillon motif, buttressing and driving Tetzlaff harder forward, though elsewhere feeling evident of Tetzlaff driving things ahead slightly high and dry over mere accompaniment beneath. Interlude to follow from Nott was musically astute, as was incisively marking clarinet and horn antiphony of Passcaglia motif over xylophone, abetting Tetzlaff winding tight the explosive vitality of what he had in front of him, toward dry, determined pacing of the coda. The quality of leaving something in reserve during closing page of Shostakovich First may indeed have something to say for it. Shostakovich did not intend indication of any triumph – definitely nothing easy or headily achieved – to resound forth. Thorough prudence on part of both Tetzlaff and Nott, though such one might have found slightly cerebral, was perhaps more adept than what is the norm. Tetzlaff, to affirmative response from Philharmonie audience, provided nobly profiled Bach D Minor Sarabande – supple, deeply introspective his limning of straight line in sixteenths to help close this.

William Walton’s First Symphony, in B-Flat Minor, written in the early 1930’s, with perhaps storm clouds about foreboding great conflict ahead, made for an ideally defining second half for this concert. Nott specifically made encompassing profile of this elaborately scored forthright composition – leaving nothing at its surface, as jerky motion from Simon Rattle (EMI) can occasionally leave impression of all substance here being just as it appears right there, in even an insipidly or quasi-academically Hindemithian manner. Nott, without cheating the simplicity of either the shape or melodic content of this music, clearly avoided this problem by being keenly attentive to, underneath the lines so to speak, impetus through making subtle overtones heard, that drives much of this music forward. Such indicates even Hindemith often being given short shrift. From Nott, malcontent to stick to shallower waters in engaging the Walton – one got here intimation of Walton’s roots in having studied with Ferruccio Busoni –what implications might linger with Walton in picking up, making a few his own the last century’s innovations in extending, developing complex harmonic practices.

On the surface, Walton’s First Symphony is perhaps as reactionary as the British late-Romantic or Edwardian symphonic tradition comes. Even Sir Edward Elgar in works such as the Violin Concerto and Second Symphony deserves more probing scrutiny than common - for his certainly not being completely disengaged from the overt early century’s radicalism pervading the continent just a thirty kilometer swim away. There is more here than sometimes most immediately reaches the ear. Nott has found it the best I have yet heard from anybody – potentially challenging the supremacy of the composer’s EMI recording with Philharmonia.

Generation of vitality on steady ostinato to course through first movement got naturally achieved - without need for overt projection to prod it along. All remained equally varyingly tensile, supple in essaying long allargando line in unison strings, leaning into series of diminished dominant chords, establishing starkly realized minor dominant (F Minor) – accompanied by agitating repeat note tremoli in the lower strings.., Such eventually hammering tremolo, organically achieved here, becomes oppressive, leading into climax of suspended long held B (C-Flat) – half-step above B-Flat, tritone above F.

Sense apparent of reaching point harmonically beyond which this music can not endure further strain without disintegrating – or turning into a different type of composition altogether, Nott’s way of seeing well ahead of particulars facing him made abundantly clear. Transition into subtly colored, shaped duo between solo bassoon and viola was supple, while not garnishing or making anything unduly bland of anything yet. Surge through the first movement resumed, with equally sense of struggle firmly far beneath, confidently similarly as before into fully achieved long-breathed under quasi-vocalise descant based on long breathed oboe descant consequent very near this piece’s opening. Antiphony between differing lower brass into trilled cadences, forming briefly repetitive canon got firmly, definitively shaped. Healthy swagger into final cadence followed there being some sense of thinness, strain to upper reaches above great weight of sonority underneath from DSO violins.

Nott provided scherzo (Presto con malizia), in its light, often even jaunty essaying of in retrospect what anxiety, tensions dominating the first movement, good flowing electrical current through it, all as nature driven, with rattling repeat note figuration answered by firmly robust interjections in strong octaves – some of this as though man-made driven as well Jaunty recurrent closing idea, followed midway through by detached quasi-pointillistic episode did not overdo what conviviality, resiliency of spirit arises in fleetingly achieving B-Flat Major – letting with naturally boosted lift it just speak for itself. Rapidly ascending brief runs off repeat-note rattling about freely led into acrid dissonances cresting sequencing lines. Interval contrasts fully spelled out, all went sailing forth into jaunty conclusion off incendiary spinning forth orchestra wide trill into the fray.

Nortt avoided oppressive cliché of lengthy suspensions by guiding all to have preceded melancholy, more anxiety infused Andante with precisely guided understatement - and controlled balances also earlier toward avoiding excessive detachment.. Supple profile was made here of frequently descending febrile toned winds. Nott clearly pointed accompaniment to clarinet on first fluttering bassoon, then gentle undulation on other clarinet(s) to alternating solo oboe and clarinet – all prudent means of avoiding overall line sagging or becoming heavy laden. Strings passionately limned their descant – to throbbing chords underneath - to earlier phase of the above. Sonorities, increasingly bolstered by firm brass developed power with mostly unforced ease. All sonorities, dissonances within were handled fastidiously without undercutting their warmth and luminosity. Strong appoggiatura above throb on single pitch in the strings buttressed passionate outcry above, all towards making way to a distraught close

Bright flush fully informed Maestoso start to the finale – logically welcome relief to heavier air inhaled most of the way up to this point. New vitality brightly thrust itself toward framing facile, incisively playful fugato - welcome in place of urbane propelled variety – the enlightened classicism of Nott’s approach always strong on this music’s behalf. Double reeds warmly limned retreating lines off fugato - allowing fanfare pointed reprise thereof swaggering new lease on life. Playful jagged inversion of the counterpoint led into rolling forth straight sixteenths variation of same fugato toward making reminder of similar pattern to Scherzo earlier – all struggle encountered thus far now almost overcome.

Nott might have been less specific at fully characterizing grandiose coda than does the composer – or perhaps less specifically (Rule) Britannia at it. Even here a palpable sense of excitement, also psychologically in being prudently matter-of-fact was something to build towards thrust forth chords framing eventual conclusion - moreover sense of conflict having ensued likely not yet having been all put out to sea for good. Between Ashkenazy (mildly perfunctory on the finale), the composer, very wisely Haitink, even almost two-dimensional interpretatively Rattle, I have yet to come across a misrepresentative account of Walton’s First Symphony. Even perhaps from Haitink (Philharmonia – EMI again), there is achieved full assessment intellectually, aesthetically (even of arguably progressive element therein) of what this music indeed has to say. This Jonathan Nott accomplished in full.

Labels: , , , , , , , , ,

Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Met in HD - Vocally strained lyric very qualified success to mark Met Puccini centennial - Fanciulla del West. Deborah Voigt. 08.01.11

This marked centennial of the Met world premiere obviously at the old house of Puccini’s first American premiere – La Fanciulla del West – so there was much to anticipate in marking an important anniversary for the company. It was also the first world premiere to ever be staged by the Met – starring Emmy Destinn, Enrico Caruso, Pasquale Amato and for Ashby the wonderful Galician basso Adamo Didur. Arturo Toscanini conducted.

It was anticipated a long time ahead of time that the Met might decide upon giving Fanciulla a new production. For especially those who take Puccini seriously, it had to come as some real disappointment that instead we’d have a revival of the obviously B rated 1992 production by Giancarlo Del Monaco instead – its taking after B rated spaghetti Westerns obvious and on purpose. Even in belabored attempt made at veristic acting to still come across as cheap melodrama, characterization of especially both Minnie and the miners succumbs to being two-dimensional. Fortunately deleted from this revival was a scene during Act One between Minnie and Billy Jackrabbit that depicts Billy in manner rightly construed as racist – as small time cheat and petty thief – to Minnie’s endearing bemusement – all suitable to strike an insipidly non-threatening chord for the wonderful postmodern neo-con times in which we live today. Puccini thought better than to include this episode into the final authorized edition of Fanciulla del West. So should have the Met – but we have for sure it immortalized on a DGG dvd from off the stage at Lincoln Center. It remains the weakest both musically and histrionically of three dvd’s of this opera to star Placido Domingo as Ramerrez.

Deborah Voigt, with endearing face made an energetic, spirited Minnie – notably her saucy wit (for instance while within earshot of references made to Nina Michelterrona or of request for wisky ed aqua) and confidence in taking it on - though one lacking in ideal vocal warmth, vulnerability. Such lack was likely due to the overall ironic glibness of the stage production, but just as critically hollowness to Voigt’s middle register. In easier place such as the Bible lesson, she could caress her tone to bring out ample warmth, but response to text being sung still remained cool. Her first telling off of Rance was incisive, but also revealed strain around the break. “Laggiu nel Soledad” combined coquettish touch and endearment with glee, but with high C going flat willed as much as it was sung. Voigt’s capture of saucy wit in interaction was good with the miners, diction idiomatic, as was the floating nostalgia with which Voigt could infuse line such as ‘Quanto tempo sperai’ during first interaction with Mr. Johnson. ‘Non son che’ elicited genuine feminine modesty and warmth, but ‘Povera gente’, her next arioso, though openly impassioned, had Voigt spending on principal slightly more than on interest to pull this off. Intonation tended toward dull, not conspicuously bad, except for handful of places causing Voigt obvious strain.

Matters had to wait until Johnson entered for Voigt to secure good placement and ease to sing Act Two. She found viable charm for ‘Oh, se sapeste’, though still slightly clumsy around the break, and achieved good line through large crests through it during duet with Dick Johnson. Minnie’s laughter over perceiving she has been had not to know Johnson’s true identity by this point came across cold; all the light swoops up and down toward engagement with an increasingly tense situation on stage expressed as much (practically squealy while in extremis) bemusement in playing it out as genuine fervor. After greeting the miners warmly in the final scene, ‘Anche tu le verrai’, Minnie’s entreating on Johnsons’ behalf, started off choppy, putting completely on hold the warmth that must infuse this critical passage.

Mostly, if not quite entirely up to the demands of singing Minnie, Voigt at least showed genuine interest in the character, compromises aside, some prudence in negotiating the fierce demands that Minnie makes on the middle register of (still halfway) a lyric soprano. Nobody hardly ever heard from Barbara Daniels after she sang runs of this at the Met (and filmed it– as seen now on the Met dvd) Voigt, in however tenuously she can go about doing it has Brunnhilde’s imminent at the Met. A real object lesson is to pull out the EMI recording starring Birgit Nilsson – my favorite recording today of Nilsson singing in Italian. Note the very attentive care, prudence in taking on any of it that challenges the middle register, while not cheating Minnie of any character or warmth. This was a class act - of a quality that may unfortunately forever remain elusive to Voigt

Marcello Giordani was the ultimately too lyric Dick Johnson. Except for a strongly willed and thus stirring rendition of ‘Or son sei mesi’ in Act Two, at least until having to squeeze for its high B-Flat Intonation problems were as common for Giordani as they were for Voigt. In part for being too light for this, combined with being so focused on voice as incentive to sing Johnson, Giordani came up very short. Easier lines showed refined deference to Minnie, but more imaginative impetus to sing Johnson than vocal was lacking, that is, of a lyric attempting it. More moving might be, in stressing the lyric accents of the part, to stress the bandit’s vulnerability. ‘Ch’ella mi creda’ was thoroughly lacking in smoothness, legato, thus something in nobility got missed as well. Strength of purpose, of character was overall insufficient to make entirely convincing Johnson’s clain to have found redemption in the love of both saloon girl and benefactress for the miners. With Voigt and Giordani together, with music being relegated overall here to subsidiary role here, there seldom emerged any convincing connection between the two, as they sounded across the airwaves. Same held true for Barbara Daniels and Domingo, in his most phlegmatic and slightly choppy rendition of Johnson, up against his triumph as Johnson for La Scala a year earlier. The naturally Italianate quality of Giordani’s vocalism just only about halfway made up for so much else that was lacking.

Lucio Gallo supplied the somewhat dry voiced, but also often reasonably menacing Jack Rance. Several top notes tended to spread, become wobbly. ‘Minnie, dalla mia casa’ , dvd, certainly weak attempt at being endearing allure toward Minnie anyway, started off with more snarl than tone. Gallo, reckoning his Rance to be one that comes up short in being that o the con forza variety, at least made the most he could of insinuating irony in confronting both Minnie and Ramerrez that here was at least a halfway convincing stab at the surly mining camp sheriff. In ineraction with the Sonora of Dwyne Croft, sounded a little more like the voice for Rance than did Gallo.

Dwayne Croft, the cartoonish crocodile tears Larkens on the 1992c Met dvd, asserted good unprepossessing leadership of the mining community, and a well cast one yet again, as Sonora. Edward Parks removed the edge of the glib silver-screen irony of Del Monaco’s cheapening production, restoring genuine humanity to Larkens – through very well nuanced, excellenttly timed parlato out of his closing lines. Hugo Vera supplied the ever energetic, eager Trin for either Trin being a very fit novice at camp or never-ending enthusiast for being there. Tony Stevenson was the always ready morale boosting bartender Nick, whether for miners at large or for a disillusioned Rance to open Act Three. Though overstating the case on one or two lines, Stevenson was also the pro at portraying Nick as solicitous on behalf of security concerns, i.e. toward keeping Minnie equally attentive. Keith Miller provided fine gravitas for a dark-toned, if occasionally woofy Ashby. Jeff Mattsey proved very entertaining as Castro, but seedy to extent that it must be a real dullard of a Rance to get even halfway taken in by such a character. Ginger Coast-Jackson was the smoky, cark toned Wowkle for Suzuki-type writing Puccini supplied ’this character, Philip Cokorinos the very capable, supportive Billy Jackrabbit alongside. Only the Jake Wallace of Oren Gradus got compromised for most of all being placed way too far forward – louder than those miners to belong on stage – making a mockery of how Puccini marked this passage. Also exposed were a couple of dead patches that have developed in the voice of Oren Gradus, that Gradus bulges slightly to hide them, but for the most part, compromises aside, provided the ballateer’s lines fine noble profile.

Acoustical space, how such is managed in this most through-composed of all of Puccini’s operas, proved an issue throughout this performance. Nicola Luisotti capably, efficiently conducted a score that provides its interpreters much in the way of padding. Some glib ignoring, streamlining of Puccini’s dynamics proved to be of some ccncern in several instances. Pacing and contrasts within were good, except for slight rushing ahead mostly toward sparing lyric voices for all three principals further grief. Much of the score sounded as though to have almost played itself – as can be inclined to happen with Fanciulla in its characteristics of both being through-composed and orchesrally the most heavily scored and lush of Puccini’s output.

Engagement with the piece’s frequently winsome wit and swagger and of its opening out of panoramic color, scenography was apt – and yet with all being said there was something missing, not all of which can be laid at Luisotti’s feet. Here requires a grasp, I suppose, of what can be only reckoned as intangibles, And thereby it is important for the stage director or producer for this work – not to mention for many ohers – to be musically astute. In this way, Giancarlo Del Monaco is not up to task, making a conductor still relatively green according to how nuymerous among us can assess his craft, still more of a challenge than it already is. Puccini had a gift for providing silences in his music, even with instruments still sounding from his orchestral forces, tremolo thereof, whatever. Should Fanciulla instead be good soundtrack to, Technicolor for action on stage instead, both Luisotti and Del Monaco were fully up to task, even Leonard Slatkin (Met dvd) – colder, more detached than Luisotti – as well. Much of the uniqueness of Puccini’s scoring carries best by sensitively communicating a reckoning of acoustical space, moreover an absorbing, psychologically enveloping sense of mystery Puccini already provides. Giancarlo Del Monaco, toward achieving this, regardless who is conducting, attains something merely two-dimensional of Fanciulla instead.

It is mostly in this regard that the Met’s centennial Fanciulla del West came up short Even Lorin Maazel, not especially a natural at conducting Italian opera achieves most of what went missing here – in part by being partnered by a very wise, just gently abstract staging by Jonathan Miller at La Scala. Numerous Puccini lovers have bemoaned Fanciulla being looked upon as second-tier Puccini – to some his most beautiful and evocative score of all. There is then hope for it to stand tall next to all four most popular Puccini favorites – Il Trittico as well.

Labels: , , , , , , , , , ,

Monday, January 10, 2011

BBC: New Staatsoper Wien Don Giovanni (Martinoty) falters to indecisive leadership, second-tier casting. Franz Welser-Most. December, 2010.

This is part of in effect inaugural staging of the three Mozart-Da Ponte operas, regarding start of Franz-Welser-Most’s tenure at the Vienna State Opera. Jean Louis Martinoty’s staging of Nozze di Figaro had, as played by ‘period’ Concerto Koln, under Rene Jacobs has already been seen at the Champs-Elysees in Paris and preserved forthright this way on dvd. What one may have thought of this would of course color what one makes of elaboration cited below on both new Don Giovanni and revival of Nozze in Vienna.

Nevertheless, Likely Impossibilties (blog) hardly makes either production seem compelling. “There are few operas that offer a more comprehensive overview of the intersection of love, sex, and class than [Nozze], but Martinoty’s new Wiener Staatsoper production irons out this complex into a rush of pure teenage hormones. Everyone gets some, but what it means, I don’t know” This blogger felt equal befuddlement coming across the new production of Don Giovanni last December, not complaining much about its modernism per se, but with most of all instead there being no focus to so much clutter on the raked stage Hans Schavernoch’s sets provide.

We’ve all seen some production by now of these comedies that makes low, broad comedy of them - with much hyperactive jumping, mugging and blithering about. In favor of the new production, it can be said that it probably looked, sounded less distracted than last time Houston Grand Opera put on Don Giovanni – originally intelligently produced by the late Goeran Jarvefelt, but mauled by Harry Silverstein to extent of being no longer recognizable as Jarvefelt’s work.

Given however that this Don Giovanni sounded most of all musically confused, plus theatrically eager to distract from what the music tries to say, I find myself ready to take above blogger’s word for it. The action is moved to post-war Spain, 1950’s or perhaps aocording to costuming, slightly later, according to what I read. For finale to probably Act One, things switch over to ‘period costuming’ – some of the cast that remains this way into Act Two. One apparently did have “a milquetoast evening’ with reminder that there is indeed “no worse Don than a boring Don.” Martiooty, he says, has failed to tell anybody who Don Giovanni is – or who any of the other characters are.

“And Ildebrando D’Arcangelo’s Don seems like a good guy. He’s friendly, maybe a little aggressive on the romantic side of things, but basically decent.” Even including some “consensual S&M thing going on between Donna Anna and the Don, - one’s typical Perrier water drinking occasional yuppie diversion ‘when the feeling is right.’ such is there to hardly detract from basically not such an aggressively modern production of Don Giovanni as one, (co-opting) along yuppie lines, faceless and glib. At the end of the day, who must be able to care about any of the above? I make all such evaluation of what has been written already to say that with what complex social distinctions get spelled out so thoroughly by both words and music in the Mozart, it then becomes very difficult for music and text to exist alone in a vacuum from each other here.

Ildebrando d’Arcangelo made saturnine presence again felt as the Don, but with less specificity of character plus hint of casualness beyond norm for his type of interpretation than at the Staatsoper last year (reviewed also in this blog). The Don’s brief anger, stern warnings to Leporello, became less credible -as almost telling him that all will blow over in seconds anyway, which it always does; the Leporello however should not become so cynical. For one, one did not have anyone close to formidable as Rene Pape - for previous match-up at Staatsoper - and then there was the character of this new production – or lack thereof. Even in the di Simone having cross-period stylized costuming, it presented scenario sticking closer to traditional roots, moreover more unified idea as to what Mozart’s drama giocoso is about than does this. Figuring how to help maintain order, working with Franz Welser-Most also intermittently proved a challenge. Welser-Most yielded well to d’ Arcangelo wanting to nobly sculpt his seduction of Zerlina before, during ‘La ci darem’, and then yielded to d’Arcangelo intervening to command pacing through the Champagne Aria - to it ending convincingly.

D’Arcangelo added extra nuance to second verse of the Serenade to help achieve a firmer grip on things - with Welser-Most and increasingly the Leporello (Alex Esposito) it temptation to sideline matters during finales to both acts and graveyard scene as well. All the compromise obviated on occasion several low notes for d’Arcangelo emerging slightly weak. Rushing d’Arcangelo through several passages became almost more compromise than d’Arcangelo could overcome. Still, as evident under better conditions, we still have an interpretation of the Don with which to be reckoned. Albert Dohmen, though uncivilly placed back for ‘dinner scene, conveyed Il Commendatore with suitable dark toe, gravitas, firm resolve and simply expressed outrage.

Same can hardly be said about Alex Esposito. In early scenes, including during deftly accompanied Catalogue Aria, even though dry, baritonal – practically a Masetto cast as Leporello - one could not help but notice a certain stage savvy, making much, if broadly, of some good lines. Increasingly frequent willful engagement of (quasi-) parlato during Act Two, along with obvious pouting for mercy during the Sextet was self-defeating. Esposito’s very broad antics during the graveyard scene and while placed on stage too prominent during especially the Statue’s stopover for dinner were more ruinous. We had a Leporello– no help unstable pacing from Welser-Most especially during final portion of the Sextet – for entirety of Act Two in free-fall to between second and third tier in quality.

Making the overall dramatic and musical situation seem still more weightless was light casting of all three female leads – Constantinescu (Elvira) partial exception – and as Ottavio. Sally Matthews, albeit with warm, even mezzo-ish low notes, sounded like good type-casting for Elvira as Donna Anna. Especially while not challenged by notes above the staff, Matthews conveyed much tragic feeling convincingly, her impassioned racconta leading into “Or sai’ (Vengeance Aria) no less – darkening of her timbre therein affected, remindful perhaps of Martina Arroyo (also cast as Donna Elvira) in this years ago. Her sustained high A’s during ‘Or sai’ sounded attempted being reached as though at interval slightly higher, more free of the break than they are, thus their going sharp. Squally A’s while entering soon before the Masks Trio led Matthews to place back during the trio. With no support from Welser-Most for hearing color for expressive modulations during noble entrance for the Sextet, she still affected well making something expressive of her lines therein, if at some strain. She attempted noble profile of ‘Non mi dir’, but negotiation between a light top and extra weighing down of warm middle register, especially while near the break, became ungainly, putting control of intonation at risk.

Partnering Matthews was Saimir Pirgu as Don Ottavio, indeed with good attempt to make fully likable character of Ottavio – Pirgu an artist of naturally musical expressivity. One wanted to like Pirgu better than one could entirely. Attempt at compensating with nuance what the voice lacks in weight – with it evident during ‘Dalla sua pace’ some tightness around the break – tended to falter. Pirgu managed to trumpet out something affecting heroic of a high A during ‘Il mio tesoro’, if somewhat deteached placement wise from runs to follow – Welser-Most detached as well. Even so, apart from a little fiddling with placement, agility for runs was good as was the noble grace with which he infused the aria’s opening phrases. It was only during epilogue sextet that Pirgu fully relaxed vocally and therein most assuredly made fluidly pliant his lines. Ear for harmonic change, coloring such with good nuance was frequently evident evening long – even while at some strain to make all properly connect.

Mezzo-ish Elvira Roxana Constantinescu, hardly at all distinct from Matthews in timbre at times, distinguished herself more from Matthews in terms of characterization, making somewhat the ingénue out of Elvira – similar as to how slightly lighter, but more secure Soile Isokoski did as Elvira year previous. What good acting ability, insinuation emerged thereof got compromised by support issues, including for bland, coy ‘Ah, fuggi, il traditor.’ Shaky negotiation of register shifts afflicted her for quartet and masks trio to follow Tremulous sound and scooped reach above the break during trio to open Act Two accompanied acting that her for whatever convenience turned too glibly ingénue ‘In quail eccessi’, though expressive, lacked weight. Runs during ‘Mi tradi’ flowed well – compromised by shaky, unpleasant top notes. Even slightly more so than with Isokoski, Elvira came across practically so deferential to all about as to be anonymous.

Sylvie Schwartz, thin as Zerlina, showed suitable restraint in first interaction with the Don, but thereafter quickly became too arched, too coy, all nuance that way worked in with voice of unattractively thin quality. She and the dry voiced, conventionally hectoring Masetto of Asam Plachetka both very nearly go drowned out by the Vienna Philharmonic during the Sextet. Attempt at getting warmth, including with breathless pauses made recitative and especially Vedrai carino’ unusually distancing – similar to what one might expect of one’s school nurse. ‘Batti, batti’ came across mildly more genuine, but including with support helter-skelter from Welser-Most - cello obbligato glibly blended in with all else - weak low notes and tendency to sharpen above the staff.

With Welser-Most mentioned so much already, there is little left to say. The Vienna Philharmonic, while playing together, sounded good, but conception here overall was indeed more orchestral than operatic, including from ironic streamlining of moderately running scales during introductory part of the Overture off bombast made of its framing opening chords. With mention made of occasions Welser-Most was deferential to his singers on stage, there were just as frequently numerous instances during which it seemed like task for the singe to follow him. I did not find too much in way of odd tempos, but simultaneously not consistently a solid grasp of what it might mean to set them. Streamlining of both extended finales turned ungainly, uncomfortably so.

Lack of support for his cast of singers also showed up remarkably during both the Act One quartet and Act Two sextet. Rushing of re-transition Ottavio starts during ‘Non ti fidar’ (quartet) was merely one example. Sense of shape for the Sextet remained loose, flaccid all to vanish – following discovery that it is Leporello before all the rest – for what should be the reinvigorating recapitulation therein. Menace with the Commendatore scene waited all the way until chorus from beneath manifested itself. Capacity to let all loose rhythmically, formally, expressively for the Sextet showed lack of sensitivity altogether for both what an orchestral conception of conducting Mozart might logically mean and for providing by same token his singers good support. Half-committed affectation of ‘period’ accenting, including during rushed start to Elvira’s recitativo accompagnato in Act Two, did not help.

Why Welser-Most conducts this opera, other than to show how the Vienna Philharmonic can play Mozart - that is, not always assured, while able to play together – is as unclear as it was to blogger mentioned above whether or not new production in question could be expected to have anything to say.

Labels: , , , , , , , , ,

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Met (NPR): Debussy's Pelleas - Miller production (revival) - through heavy naturalistic trudge under Simon Rattle (debut). New Year's Day.

With only so much experience in opera thus far, it seems that debut of Simon Rattle with the Metropolitan Opera has become long overdue. The Met granted him his choice of repertoire with which to make it; that choice is obvious. He had what on paper naturally would appear a good hand-picked cast with which to work, and among productions that originated during Volpe era at the Met, a good pick as well – by Jonathan Miller. Miller sets Pelleas during time it was written, the Belle Epoque era. Miller has gone further in making light of to abolishing altogether elements of mysticism that infuse Maeterlinck’s text, then some of Debussy too. Perhaps more controversially than anything else, Melisande is no longer the innocent waif, but even deliberately active forthright protagonist, perhaps driving it all, behind much action to take place,

One other irony is that wisest presence on Met stage for this appeared to be Golaud (Gerald Finley). Normally, we think of Golaud, as lone character in this abiding by classical reason or logic that in being trapped by all of what is phenomenal in his midst turns out at end of day to turn him into the most uncomprehending, least enlightened, basically most clueless among modest sized cast of characters populating Debussy’s opera. Simon Rattle, conducting a work he has conducted at Salzburg with the Berlin Philharmonic before, then two years later at Staatsoper with their own, Staatskapelle, instead – once same evening Barenboim conducted Schoenberg’s Pelleas with the Philharmonic. Stage direction at Staatsoper interestingly fell under aegis of being posthumous revival of ‘Grandma (Ruth Berghaus)’s’ production. At Salzburg however in 2006, the team that staged it there had initiates of Allemande in upright position, dressed as clowns, all facing front and failing to interact with one another. Rattle perhaps achieved the most responsive playing so far for Pelleas from Staatskapelle Berlin.

Rattle’s Met effort here sounded as though more of one piece than how has been described his outing with Pelleas at Salzburg five years ago. There by now certainly is some concept in mind, but what I would describe as still practically inscrutable. It is refreshing to hear Pelleas sometimes played unabashedly, unambiguously realistically direct, as one has already on disc in differing ways from Pierre Boulez and Claudio Abbado. Much in the way of wafting by, being least bit ambiguous or mysterious or implied to be in Debussy’s scoring goes mostly by the wayside here. Robert Wilson might be a more interesting choice of producer - with all its use of abstract lighting, graphics, slow choreographic gesture together with which for Rattle to work than Miller.

Rattle sought out of Debussy’s score its often full orchestral weight - development of musical argument along these lines. It was in this aspect of going about it that I fear Debussy’s score became something somewhat fleeting and elusive to Rattle – the more weighted down, the more elusive to maintain a strong grasp on it. Rattle continues most interested in bringing obvious darker undercurrents to Pelleas constantly to the fore; no doubt, on the other hand, doing Pelleas all svelte, misty, wispy, wafty is a distortion. This also proved the slowest Pelleas I have yet heard – clocking in at 171 or 172 minutes, not counting intermissions, applause, etc. Bernard Haitink, with Orchestre Nat’l de France, comes in, still quite slow, at 162. Here was a Pelleas almost along lines of late-career Knappertsbusch or Goodall - doubtful that either maestro ever conducted it.

Hi-Fidelity, reviewing the EMI Karajan Pelleas years ago, described it as more Maeterlinck, heavily allusive to Symbolism, than Debussy. It is likely the sveltest played Pelleas in modern sound - veering close to glutinous during this score’s most saturated writing, such as interlude almost midway through Act Four. Tempos are comparably very broad to on the still fairly recent Haitink (extending beyond it only by a minute).

Debussy however was, in adapting Maeterlinck, striving for realism, but defined along different parameters than the naturalism in vogue during his day. What more uninspiring can be turned into a libretto, in other words than a Theodore Dreiser novel? (And yet that has been, in terms of commission, been tried at the Met recently). I have also avoided on purpose listening to Nicholas Maw’s Sophie’s Choice - and have regretted time spent on Heggie’s Dead Man Walking I would rather admit accidentally stepping in than listening to again. For objectivity’s sake, it was worth one try.

When taking on Debussy’s Pelleas, to avoid giving it any slanted perspective, one has to judge for one’s self how subliminal or overt to reckon its dream-state. The Miller production has ditched this as just reckoning it further extension out of Romantic myth, cliché that in partly different way Debussy left behind too. With Pierre Boulez – preferable on his old Sony recording, not to demean the integrity of Peter Stein’s production on DGG – a crystalline percolated flow forthrightly conveys Pelleas’s realism.

The closest on disc to Rattle’s interpretation is likely Bernard Haitink (Naïve). What reticence, lumbering surfaces therein however occurs with overall line in perspective, and toward keeping all supple numerous openings out – acutely moving the rapt never motionless stillness (as informed by what surrounds the line) for Melisande’s gentle, fleeting oasis of ‘C’est que jet e regarde’ during love scene in Act Four - there being illusion of continuing motion underneath through overtones, memory – with all orchestral activity having ceased for one measure. Anne Sofie Von Otter, not lighter casting than Magadalena Kozena suggestively nuanced this; Kozena emitted a loud yawn through it.

What largely resulted for Rattle was in a still valid hybrid approach to interpreting Debussy’s Pelleas was more than the alert realism of the Boulez interpretation – not desirable that Rattle attempt himself – a stodgy naturalism even lopsided as such – more prose than poetry – perhaps mildly denigrating, demeaning what Jonathan Miller’s production, with expected meta-textual ironies all its own, might want most upfront to accomplish. In fact, for stretches of this under Rattle, all appeared to be prose. He best brought matters to life for more dramatic passages, such as the finale to Act Three – Act Three often better paced, granting also the Met orchestra opportunity to sink slightly more into what they were playing than earlier and/or elsewhere.

More glutionous in terms of weight than texture was Rattle’s approach. Dynamics tended to be generically loud, denying suggestive color contrast for such lines as Pelleas’s ‘Nous aurons un tempete’ along seaside near end of Act One and for Melisande’s ‘je ne suis pas heureuse’ ending central scene with Golaud during Act Two. Dramatically climactic moments at end of Act Three and during Act Four did not stand out as better than reticently violent from what had come before, for playing already having become too loud. Veering close to massaged solos by Nick Emmett for second interlude in Act One, and by Rafael Figueroa (cello) under sagging English horn right before pair of half-brothers entering caves in Act Three. Reticent poise inhibited making supple transitions during seaside closing scene to Act One and filling out Pelleas’s beautifully undulated ‘Je les nous’ – most relaxed moment during Tower scene opening Act Three – as though wary of compromising a more stolid stance having to prevail.

After making phlegmatic the subterranean portion of Act Three - of good cross-voicing among orchestral lower reached - Rattle made worked or pedantic re-emergence to daylight, then excessively scherzo-esque what animation to follow. Eventually the close to this scene, all slightly over a line to being stiffly detached, could have had one ask what Debussy might have plagiarized from Ferde Grofe’s Grand Canyon Suite – except for the Grofe having been composed later. Other seemingly contradictory gilding occurred elsewhere. Mystery was most curiously lacking for evocative interlude before grotto final scene to Act Two - from low bassoons’ iunison with cellos even through shimmering tremolo descent in divisi violins for effort within their playing showing.

Magdalena Kozena as coltish, but distraughtly restrained Melisande made nigh perfect devil’s advocate for keeping Rattle off his guard against his own lesser instincts – of stiffly, vaguely groping his way about Debussy’s Pelleas. Tone tended toward opaque, pressed near the break, compromising pitch and consistent with much getting placed back. Innocence of Melisande became gravely in doubt – if as free, driving agent through action of this Melisande can still make a good liar to Golaud – her pouted, grunted low D’s right after being queried while at Golaud’s bedside about issue Golaud thinks she might have regarding Pelleas. French pronunciation– occasionally with swallowed consonants, tended to be thick – except for welcome moments of relaxation vocally, mostly while in the company of Pelleas – and for Melisande’s chanson as well. Even several instances of ‘laissez-moi’’, similar therein resembled indicating hypothetical Monica Vitti take on Melisande instead of better, one plausibly halfway enamored of Pelleas. ‘Ouvrez la fenetre’s’ during Act Five got close to as heavily limned as good warnings earlier to Pelleas of Golaud approaching nearby.

Stephane Degout as Pelleas, genuinely French casting at last, was very nearly as well cast as half-brother for Gerald Finley. He most often infused with warmth his naturally baritonal timbre for Pelleas , even conveying something of mystery that, for so much wariness of abandoning reason for cliché, Rattle became prone, pedantic to eschew. Pushed quality to Met orchestra’s playing in driving passages – missing slightly what eroticism compels them – abetted well Degout following suit – and even misguidedly attempting to match timbre with that of Kozena a few times. The strain in doing so was obviously felt. Acting, with natural feel for musical idiom and text, and also for Pelleas’s sensitive prudence in regards to threat about, was most realistic and believable. Degout cut an altogether handsome, likable figure as Pelleas - with much oppressively hardened all about overtaking the usually hazier gloom, hint, hint, cliché, of Debussy’s inspiration. Freely achieved top during Tower scene was most refreshing to hear.

Gerald Finley made highly credible a perplexed Golaud, making beautifully limned contrast between Golaud’s sensitive qualities, including befuddlement while interacting with Yniold in Act Three and guarded manner toward allowing jealous suspicions to overtake Golaud too early, and his aggression. Here was a definitively complete interpretation, not yet exceeded (or matched) by anything else this Met season thus far. The right snarl, incisive French and force for violent declamation came all forward, yet as compelled from within. Over slightly jerky accompanying from Rattle, Golaud’s imploring to Melisande for some reckoning, greater understanding as always to be beyond Golaud’s grasp, was deeply moving. Finley’s free top – for instance for ‘la joie’ toward end of scene in Act Two – revealed o youthful perspective to still be within Finley’s grasp- not lost yet starting in on heavier repertoire – toward as more easily Balstrode for English National Opera to win sympathy than Golaud. We have today, add Laurent Naouri, two Golaud’s sharing mantle belonging before to Jose Van Dam.

Veteran mezzo Felicity Palmer (Genevieve) with beautifully pointed, insinuated French, Paul Corona (Shepherd/Doctor) and after a throaty start Neel Ram Nagarajan (Yniold) hardly less, made for an altogether first-rate supporting cast – Rattle’s forceful not fortissimo marked but played pizzicato to open Yniold’s scene – yielding soon thereafter to better flexibility – not to unduly distract Nagarajan.

Former Golaud, even sounding intermittently like a second one on stage - long time colleague, close friend with Rattle - was Willard White to return to the Met (and Miller production) as Arkel. White fully conveyed fine dignity, wise forbearance, gravitas, and mystical lift to Arkel. Lack of mystery to Met brass underneath, for Rattle’s insistence on projecting forward Debussy’s sonorities, accompanying Arkel’s opening lines was enigmatic. Rattle’s sincerity could hardly be in doubt, especially at such a moment in this, so it was frustrating it was to figure out what it might be he wanted here.

White became taxed with some of Rattle’s slow pacing – as to sustain line, tone very well making awkwardly diphthongal some of his French. His easier lines to practically calmly bring Act Five to a close got drawn out to vocally relaxed Gurnemanz scaled proportions, practically making full epilogue out of all left to unfold, enlighten us once Melisande has mysteriously slipped away, then for remainder of long – the slowest Pelleas until now? - New Year’s afternoon quietly slipping away thereafter.

Comments dedicated to Dr. Jong-Wook Yu.

Labels: , , , , , , , , , ,

free counters