The David S Operaworld blog

Carmike (EP): La Scala. il dissoluto punito (?) Don Giovanni ossia the Temptation of Robert Carsen. La Scala, Milan. Daniel Barenboim. 07.12.11.

2011-12-16T00:51:00.000-08:00

... reporting from Nacogdoches, TX.

Momentous current events over this past year concerning Italy, Europe seemed to provide Robert Carsen invitation both to go a little over the top, affect high seriousness doing so with indeed quite an important event – opening of new season at La Scala. There seemed much to offer with this new production of Don Giovanni, including a well diversified international cast and this Canadian producer – having rightly earned respect for good handful of operatic projects so far. Daniel Barenboim is an experienced Mozartean with strong reputation for choosing excellent modernist productions; traditional repertoire effectively emerges on the cutting edge this way. Scare up for instance his fine (and underrated) Nozze di Fgaro on dvd from Staatsoper Berlin. Needless to say, little went well here.

Barenboim disapproved of previous Don Giovanni that never had musically leading it anybody strong leading it toward filling out lopsided perspective it provided. In fact, several of Mussbach’s ideas got taken slightly further here with Carsen than Mozart’s music would ever invite them. Carsen thereby narrowed perspective in place of broadening it instead. Impetus behind how characters interact in Mussbach’s dark vision - with Don Juan wannabe of an Ottavio and as according to other writers, Leporello sole likable character (presented with much savvy by Ildebrando d’Arcangelo - in second cast this season as the Don) is sexual - neurotically so with the motor scooter riding Elvira. Mussbach had though, insightfully, with Da Ponte’s text, double meanings abound; he also trusted Mozart’s music, its suggestive power, to leave open room for mystery to fill in perspective, involving both Don and much else.

Judgment of situation into which to cast Mozart’s Don Giovanni never really factored in, for muddle before us here. Libertinism of the Don, or for that matter of anybody else really became open to question, with game of make-believe engaged in that any solution can be found to such, toward answering what abuses on different social levels occur. Situating Kwanchul Youn in Mario Monti’s box to answer the Don’s invitation to supper thus became insipid.

This new production of Don Giovanni billed itself as ‘a tribute to La Scala', with its traditional curtain, varied portions, assortments thereof omnipresent its major prop. The libertinism of the Don is entity to have engulfed society, sent its inhabitants down into its vortex – through ever apparent narrowing of perspective. How the other characters would engage with this world varied from Leporello’s ruffian, clumsy, vulgar emulation of being the Don himself, and being clearly attracted, like the women, to the Don as well - through Zerlina’s sadomasochistic games with Masetto – likely also inevitable between her and the Don.

World then before us is one self-perpetuating bunga-bunga party, quite misogynistic at that and almost looking like the action of this could have all taken place on a long frozen sheet of ice. All three female leads here are totally complicit with the Don in being reckless. Chambermaid the Don serenades, looking well underage, seated with him practically from prompter’s box perspective for action onstage with him through grand sextet, is found right afterwards stripped completely naked quickly making her exit. Classical Iconoclast (blog) mentions the situating of the three maskers during Act One finale for their sublime trio along center auditorium aisle as empathetically with us taking (unclear what Carsen might have dreamt up) some moral stance. After ‘Penn State’, what then is one underage prostitute?

The Commendatore has the ability ‘to live beyond the constraints of death’ - as both Classical Iconoclast and (implicitly) Carsen has explained - thus becomes sole challenge to the Don. Carsen, in pandering his new production of Don Giovanni as tribute to La Scala equivocates the Commendatore with what hopes might be for position new prime minister might take, regarding progress to eventually come. I am not particularly optimistic. The fear of death, thus of judgment is something Carsen explains interviewed better to live without, lest it paralyze any of us. Humanly then it is possible to live with total sexual freedom, just as long as each one among us takes responsibility – without necessity to fear there being consequences.

Obstructing the way however is Mozart’s music, regarding such a thoroughly unfunny, unsexy, dramatically flat-line production of Don Giovanni. Musical tension building up through assault on Zerlina toward end of Act One is negated by there being inserted in effect a giant ‘so what.’ The Act Two sextet becomes a great concert-in-costume for the Don and his gratifying child service to applaud right afterwards. Charred image of La Scala’s auditorium arises at end of scene in which the Don is stabbed – to only as learned from the Commendatore live beyond suffering same mortal wound as the Commendatore himself. Society that has made La Scala possible is also expendable, perhaps La Scala itself as well. The other six characters descend below, in Don Giovanni’s place. After much equivocation, our condemnation – in world of constantly ratcheted up sexual tension – is to remain here the living dead.

One ‘out’ is for there to be more irony with what Carsen presents - some frisson to develop then not only with Da Ponte’s libretto (partly accomplished) but with Mozart’s music. In the music, as much tension develops, most of all in interaction between the characters, there is always a sense of eventual resolution to provide it meaning. Note the chromatic lines that undergird a giocoso passage, such as trio between Elvira, Don, and Leporello early in Act Two, for how Mozart interweaves dramma and giocoso. Carsen’s world of ongoing games played between well dehumanized individuals might better be served by a Philip Glass soundtrack.

Peter Mattei was the elegant playboy for the title role, no less a monster for being so sleek, suave. He sang much of his part close to his usual high standard, barring scooped opening to several lines of ‘Deh, vieni.’ Sotto voce taking on serenade’s second verse this time unfortunately thus emerged affected. What nobility, emulation of restraint thereof, poise all came across as pointless. Any sense of menace mostly waited until opening of the final supper scene with Leporello to emerge. Mattei’s acting here, for so little expected overall, was competent, including light pointing of irony, i.e. during Act One banter with Elvira. One among numerous varied screwing machines on stage for this, Mattei at least seemed to have more fun at it than Donald Sutherland as Casanova in late period Fellini.

Suppurating frequently open injury was the Leporello of Bryn Terfel, who almost emulated being as stiff as the above. Other than softly singing several lines during the Catalogue aria that Donna Elvira silently played as nymphomaniac touchy-feely psychodrama duet with him, Terfel sang the part dry, choppy non legato, with little charm. Hard to tell what might have been worse – his unmusical, dramatically unresponsive portrayal of the Don (now on dvd) from the Met, or this vulgar Leporello. Terfel has before been one of the best Leporello’s around - likely occasionally too an effective Don Giovanni. New lows were reached here with Leporello salaciously in duet with the Don for Champagne aria tacitly practically drooling over the Don singing it, or the two 'getting it on’ during recitative opening the ‘graveyard’ scene.’ At least, other recitative banter between the Don and Leporello came off quite effectively.

Anna Netrebko, beginning Donna Anna as urging ahead the Don’s opening assault, started the part by singing it quite evenly, but acting same passage conscious of how the camera must be picking up how both outrageous and enjoyable Netrebko wants to make it look. She conscientiously held voice back to blend well with her colleagues mostly through Act One, but the greater hurdles of ‘Or sai’, then moreover of a loudly sung ‘Non mi dir’ completely out of tune, with bench pressed two note figures fully detaching the line toward its conclusion, increasingly grated upon the ear. Her assignation to top line through epilogue practically made it a howling fest of sorts. What loggionisti of yore might have made their voices heard to answer all this seemed absent without leave. This Donna Anna, as an aside, made it evident how well she suspected from start of quartet during Act One that it might be her father’s assailant greeting her and Ottavio – concept as derived from recent Cosi Fan Tutte productions, nothing original here.

Barbara Frittoli vocally provided qualified success at singing Donna Elvira and excess of ridiculously acting the part, called for here. Nuerotic tendency to strip down to dark colored negligee became prevalent; red velvet garb she often wore enhanced her posterior a little much as well. Idea of ‘divertirci’ in confronting the Don in front of Zerlina had to do with how Zerlina might compete with her for the Don’s sexual favors. All of such a moment could have been halfway clever, had Carsen’s hand been lighter. Some of the middle register of Frittoli’s voice has hollowed out by now, compromising intonation wise several lines during ‘Mi tradi.’ Still, she provided some of the more supple agile singing and acting one encountered here.

Anna Prohaska almost made it a complete lie how sluttish, kinky a Zerlina she presented acting wise by how very well she sang the entire part. She never disallowed Mozart’s music from working its own charm even while being disallowed acting it with any. Power of suggestion in place of making too blatant the S&M between her and Masetto for the always musically consoling ‘Vedrai carino’ thoroughly escaped Robert Carsen; given how well Prohaska sang everything, this number only halfway succumbed to such degradation.

Giuseppe Filianoti as Ottavio offered a more conservative countenance than other members of this cast. He sang most of this with good lightness, shape phrasing it, other than perhaps partly to emulate Netrebko’s heavy vocal production, a heavily underlined ‘Dalla sua pace.’ Among all the men here, Filianoti emerged with fine musicality and very supple acting, even well emulated noble profile. ‘Il mio tesoro’ emerged with mostly fine shape, halfway decent agility for its lengthy runs, and well inserted dramatic accents.

Stefan Kocan was the animated, dark-toned Masetto, acting the part well. He fortunately got his only aria ‘Ho capito’ taken up a whole step to its original key (of G Major), just as Michele Pertusi did twenty years ago on Erato (see below). Kwanchul Youn (Commendatore), the very fine Bartolo on Barenboim’s underrated Berlin dvd of Nozze, emerged with fine nobility, sense of choked outrage at the outset, yet waiting several lines into appointment with the Don to achieve sufficient fortitude, firmness to make it what confrontation it should be.

Facing much interference - frequent reconfiguring the set (only effective with major prop relegated to outer left and right edge of the stage, emphasizing dark deep void far back, mirrored that way too), changes of garb, supernumeraries given increasingly cliched tasks - the then equivocated musical leadership remained up to Daniel Barenboim.

Erato release of Barenboim Don Giovanni I purchased two decades ago revealed best his eclectic mix of the Romanticism of Wilhelm Furtwangler and heavy, more stoical approach of Otto Klemperer, letting in where readily obvious the sunlight of what appreciation especially Furtwangler had for the Italianate lyricism therein and for deep psychological probing of the human psyche available as well. Several friends of mine would remind me I was buying Mozart not quite ‘period’ up-to-date; not to be intimidated, I shrugged them off – and am still glad I did.

Tempos at La Scala still tended to be slow, but with Barenboim less decisive, perhaps more deferential than ever before. Luster, especially from La Scala woodwinds, emanated very well, sweetly from the pit, abetted by lush strings, their nuance. Half the time however, things tended to course along flat-line, disengaged, likely distracted by much traffic moving back and forth onstage – and occasionally threatening how well in sync orchestra pit and stage remained. Important transitions, contrasts within the great Act Two sextet glibly got somewhat smoothed out. Both Terfel and Barenboim lacked firm grip through its vigorous coda, recapitulation. Though La Scala’s orchestral forces seldom embarrassed themselves, their playing to (help) define all at stake here came up short, at least until closing scenes of Act Two. One by pure happenstance got reminded here of (not always) sluggish late-career Bohm with Mozart. Barenboim’s sudden affectation of grandeur with Elvira’s In quail eccessi' came across very stodgy.

Egregious here though was woodwind band playing from the orchestra pit instead of onstage to accompany supper just past full orchestra vigorously opening the final scene. Barenboim, very qualified to put together a well performed Don Giovanni, should withhold rights toward publishing this one. For what maybe got billed as ‘tribute to La Scala’, we received La Scala tribute to Robert Carsen instead.

The evening in a very weakly attended cinema finals week in charming college town of Nacogdoches, started off with watching Santa Claus imbibe a Coke Zero to Italian national anthem being played to help ease us into what would follow. Two things to believe in, according to Woody Allen, are sex and death, " ... but at least after death, you’re not nauseous." Better yet perhaps this Woody Allen quote: “Hey, don’t knock masturbation. It’s sex with someone I love.”

This all resembled quite an undertaking.

Special thanks to both Emerging Pictures and Carmike Cinema for making this presentation, others from La Scala possible.

www.operaincinema.com

HGO Fidelio: Wild, unqualified triumph marking heroic return of Karita Mattila - Met production revival (Jurgen Flimm). Michael Hofstetter. 05.11.11.

2011-11-06T07:53:00.000-08:00

Common sports lingo might deem this having really hit one out of the park. Such could be very accurate in assessing Houston Grand Opera’s first production now of Beethoven’s Fidelio in twenty-six years. At somewhat an intuitive level, this Fidelio quickly near its outset and for numerous passages to follow had a way of leading its own way - working out by what even to whomever naïve appeared to follow a certain inscrutable and inexorable logic.

One major contributing factor was certainly HGO’s hosting of celebrated producer Jurgen Flimm - in production we borrowed from the Metropolitan Opera. BBC broadcast of Flimm's production ran last summer from London, starring a mildly tentative Nina Stemme and mediocre Florestan - Endrick Wottrich notorious for dissing Pierre Boulez, accompanying producer for their controversial, most interesting recent Parsifal together at Bayreuth. For casting deficiency or two and last minute need to replace on podium Kirill Petrenko with Mark Elder, things did not quite mesh, catch fire as readily as they did at the Wortham Center the Saturday evening, third performance, of this run.

Leads for HGO’s run on this occasion were Karita Mattila and Simon O’Neill. In 1985 they had been Hildegard Behrens and worthy of special note, the underrated Polish tenor Wieslaw Ochman – from whom eighteen months later we picked up a most suavely neurotic Herod – part somebody should have definitely made him record to supplement his Narraboth’s for Bohm and Karajan. Karita Mattila last appeared here in 2006 for Manon Lescaut - with cool Nordic penetrating tone, delivery scoring a considerable vocal and histrionic triumph then.

From several moments into time curtain was up on opening singspiel scene to Fidelio, one could sense something already in the air – even with just merely HGO studio member and returning alumnus Brittany Wheeler (Marzelline) and Norman Reinhardt (Jaquino) on stage, preoccupied as much as their habitual sparring conversation for the day as with polishing the jail office’s firearms arsenal. All, through Marzelline’s aria expressing her perplexity with conflicting romantic entanglements, came across with fine melos and charm without ever stepping over line to turn anything cloying. Especially anybody slightly more than casually familiar with Flimm’s work could pick up his very close manner of having prepared his cast to draw both his audience in and singers amongst themselves. Kristinn Sigmundsson, both figure and voice of ample girth on stage, played a very warm, convivial Rocco, achieving for later more dramatic scenes all on verge of fine gravitas for crucial interaction therein and genuine compassion for leading protagonists (and also never insipidly cowering fear of offending Pizarro).

Hard to locate, highly underrated Nozze di Figaro Flimm staged for Zurich reveals how – in close-up upon simple change of countenance turn to internal strand of the plot can be forced to happen, as though on a dime. Contrast this, if you will, with excess clutter accompanied heavy mug and blither while not blank feel characterizing David McVicar’s over-rated production of Le Nozze. There is more sexual, dramatic. musical tension on cusp of exploding between Eva Mei and Rodney Gilfry – partly for effort to have dropped many useless clichés – than to be seen the other night between a glib, blank-faced Anna Bolena and good Enrico VIII from the Met.

The very fine Falk Struckmann provided Pizaaro sinister mature weight for Met incarnation of Flimm’s production nine seasons back, vis-à-vis notably youthful, almost naively visionary appearing Rocco of Rene Pape. Dynamic between these two shifted for Houston Grand Opera now between Tomas Tomasson (Tomsky - Pique-Dame, 2010) and Sigmundsson. One might detect a little of suavely delivered (and vocalized) proto-Scarpia aspects of Rodney Gilfry’s brilliant portrayal of Almaviva in Tomasson’s Pizarro. With slightly gravelly voice, but determined line, forza infused encompassing of wide range, here was the picture of blind, youthfull choleric ambition, handsomely packaged – dangerously at the ready to close the sale toward dispatching of Florestan – and then eventually anyone else in his way. Such dynamic again between these two may have garbed itself in more conventional format than at the Met, it seemed, but really at only one end of running dialogue – and equally compellingly. Struckmann and Pape always remain a hard act to follow.

Striking contrast to the villainy of Pizarro, an equally dapper looking Kyle Ketelsen provided Don Fernando’s closing weighty benediction with fine shape and profile, artistically meriting equal approval from the hall – even almost as though unawares of sinister goings-on surrounding rear scaffolding – deep clouds hovering above – purposefully clearer and more disturbing to visual and dramatic perspective than as seen on digital video (dvd).

With even dramatic shift of power, even seemingly into the right hands, element in society can still persist toward trying to recover its way or holding of sway – perhaps more potently now than before – and as realized here also a little more violently – completely without overkill. Witness the sometimes arbitrary police berating of Occupy Wall Street, related protesters across our own fair land. So well articulated in having both Pizarro and Fernando both decked out in three-piece suits, is timeless long by now – since robber baron, wealthy bureaucrat decked out giants and gods respectively of Patrice Chereau’s Ring – oh, not to mention how efficiently laptop, fax machine, water cooler accommodated Alan Titus’s Wotan was for Flimm at Bayreuth two decades later. Very efficient timelessly modernized sett design (Robert Israel) in deep browns and grays, wall of tiered cells distinctively to the right with arms sticking out plus costuming (Florence van Gerkan) and lighting (Duane Schuler) were spot-on.

Couched by the fine simplicity driven musical leadership of Hofstetter, honed to near perfection all evening long - delivered with sufficient weight - long passionate high G from (visually) darkness enshrouded Florestan of Simon O’Neill starting his opening Act Two monologue rang out with compelling force and projection, but leading into fine shaping, encompassing of well nuanced lyricism of the part as well. For more dramatic utterances, O’Neill’s tone is not found the most ingratiating, but the certainty and ferocity of his delivery was sufficient to perhaps recall sometimes a hardly more tonally ingratiating James King on a good night as Florestan. The feel he provided for imploring Fidelio and Rocco for remote chance to see Leonore, his wife, again, through both spoken dialogue and song became deeply moving here.

Helping alongside Flimm and Hofstetter stitch all together was the magnetic Leonore of Karita Mattila, at first sighting stumbling onto stage carrying bag of groceries – as though still learning the steps of being a boy – but then this time perhaps bailing on daily potassium intake; perhaps Wortham Center pantry backstage or distributor was short on supply of bananas. Perhaps a Jurgen Flimm Wozzeck brought up to date, selenium or quercetin intake delivered or sitting around might also come handy – but then Wozzeck’s rage might turn out less violent and then the play would no longer be the same. (I could not help tonight but note Flimm’s place of birth being Giessen – site of Buchner’s alma mater).

Fidelio marked heroic return by Mattila to the Wortham Center stage. Shift of registers, making reach for high notes, sustaining line up to them is all such for which she has lost a little ease during the past several years. Within picture of quietly intense, flexible shaping of all that occurred here, depth of feel, perspective Flimm provided – Mattila recovered some of the above with fine malleability, color, flexibility, even some of the bloom of former years.

Between Mattila and Flimm, this Fidelio proved how great stage direction, production of opera requires a good ear on part of the producer - in addition to on part of who may be conducting. With Mattila fully understanding, encompassing very compelled, commanding line, filling much subtle nuance therein – through the challenging hurdles of ‘Komm, Hoffnung’ and elsewhere – dramatic impetus Beethoven’s music opens out, compels forward became complete, filling out all Fidelio is about. This was work matching highest current international standards for both directing and singing Fidelio – and especially from Karita Mattila, both always looking very comfortable in her own skin and thus filling out Leonore with most magnetic, engaged self-effacing warmth. One could not help but be moved.

Why much mention of Wozzeck above? One might guess and very reasonably that part of Marie Met – could figure before long within Karita Mattila’s sights. Given all the dramatic excitement happening on stage, the classic grosse pause Alban Berg parodied during Act One seduction scene thereof got slightly over-stepped here. There is still opportunity to ameliorate matters, fully recover the mother of all dramatic pauses in music history – to supplement good handful of pregnant, dramatically rife pauses interjecting earlier dialogue, interaction. Apart from that, Hofstetter, in pacing Fidelio, flexibly filling out its lyricism very seldom put a foot wrong. Mild prudence accommodating one or two slightly strained voices during Act Two may have slightly undercut dramatic tension, quasi-period abrupt accent or two may have slightly broken line - churlish to mention any of this.

Choral preparation (Richard Bado) is still fine, yet in this context I intermittently found several lines during Prisoner’s Chorus slightly louder in volume than might provide most moving results. Note however the hush, spaciousness with which Hofstetter infused slowly ascending strings to implore men sideways – and then prudent spacing, weight provided, underpinning them throughout and through sometimes aimless extending out through through-composed dialogue to follow –everybody’s attention rapt instead – toward poised, gently drifting off conclusion to Act One. Luminous warmth, achieved by HGO orchestra winds, alacrity infused witty pointing of opening singspiel, anticipatorily hushed Act One quartet (‘Mir ist wunderbar’) and highly spirited uplift infused finale to Fidelio marked Hofstetter’s return as very compelling (since good 2008 Beatrice et Benedict – featuring excellent Benedict of Norman Reinhardt) – always toward very clear goals in mind. He should soon get invited back.

This Fidelio is such necessity to go see, should anyone reading this be in the area - anything no longer important months, years later can get put aside for this opportunity. Houston Grand Opera has scored an unqualified triumph this week. Certainly for local yokels but perhaps for visitors from away to reckon HGO entity of true international standing - was occasion to feel very fortunate to be alive to witness this.

Met in HD: Austerely set, dark Slavic cast Anna Bolena (Met debut) opens 2011-12 season. Anna Netrebko. Marco Armiliato. 15.10.11.

2011-11-05T00:40:00.000-07:00

A first ever production of Donizetti’s tragedy Anna Bolena, with some pomp, opened the Met’s 2011-2012 season September 26th; repeat October 15th became first presentation in new Met in HD season to cinemas nation, worldwide – also toward showing off hometown girl made good to cinemas in Russia for its first season there. Domestically, Anna Netrebko introducing her Anna Bolena to the Met was much anticipated, following successful role debut last spring in Vienna (now on DGG dvd).

There is some grandiosity, real splendor to anticipate, at least hope for in attending any performance of Anna Bolena. Even with shortcomings of how the Met has presented this, it was still valuable to have attended this, just for what work it is – that alone erasing doubts I sustained until day before the November 2nd repeat viewing of October 15th.

Peter Gelb, interviewing Netrebko before first curtain, spoke of Anna Bolena as part of a trilogy, hopefully to also have Netrebko star as Maria Stuarda and as Elisabetta in Roberto Devereux. Given how varied, challenging are each of these roles, it likely is prudent Netrebko has thus far declined to commit to any more than just Anna Bolena thus far. David McVicar, plausibly in awe of having picked up Netrebko at least for this, has produced it, having prepared doing so quite substantially as star vehicle for her. Along with narrow perspective provided, this perception may have become crutch upon which rest several other shortcomings.

Windsor Castle appeared an oppressively dark, austere place in which to conduct affairs. Luxurious pillows Anna reclines upon with young daughter Elisabeth and accompanying courtly frolic, gossip helped provide early fleeting moment of relief. Tower of London cell in Act Two got better lit than several socially prominent gatherings. Striving here aimed for emotional truth, simplicity by stripping away much bark, good enveloping, so to speak. Stodginess perhaps became a little greater for only getting to see little of world dramatis personae here inhabit, according to any greater expectations, moreover to unabashed Romanticism into which Donizetti’s music - still following somewhat closely model of Rossini - invites us. Persona of the diva Donizetti indeed makes center stage also got compromised, with Anna Netrebko decked out very often in awkwardly fitting, assembled garb. James Jorden’s exhaustive column on practically this issue alone makes highly amusing (and insightful) reading.

Sets for Peter Genovese’s production at Staatsoper Wien were quite austere too, but with practically luxuriant lighting chiaroscuro - vernally accented silken gowns for Netrebko and Elina Garanca (originally announced Seymour for the Met), complementing very well both figures, to match. Men costuming wise at the Met, Smeton (Tamara Mumford) on down, were better accommodated. Increasingly Holbein style appearance of Enrico served very well, then also of Hervey (the always reliable Eduardo Valdes). Enrico, affecting sexual assault on Giovanna Seymour early on during Act One, toward getting his way with her, looked simultaneously vulgar, timid, confused.

Gray inlay solid firm, weathered brick filled out heavy canopy of wood and stone - best one could make out through the dim lighting. Meager light for opening scene shimmered through narrow thinly slatted window panels. Opening out of set at stage rear for Windsor Castle park offered some relief – launch pad in effect for royal entourage to embark on hunting diversion or operatically affect doing so. Giant, lean, steely cold tree stalks descended from the ceiling, with then two giant poodle hounds accompanying entourage. Next thing you know, some giant (genetically mutated?) banana, grapefruit or celery stalk might then roll out , should anyone complain early on of getting famished - such as Miles Monroe very readily offers a chronically bitching abducted Diane Keaton in classic 1970’s sci-fi parody.

Organization of people moving about was all reasonably effective. Past silly moment between Henry VIII and Jane already mentioned, no further gaffes became too memorable. However capable individual cast members were of acting their parts, determined how effective interaction was at any given point – without glaring sense of major figures on stage being left to their own devices. Reasoning I hesitate to resort to however is that even in this very modern (and austerely budgeted – often selectively) day and age, what affects the eye can also affect the ear, including for singers on stage. Getting past that, attention can now turn to artist taking center stage – Anna Netrebio.

With good looks diminished more than how one recalls seeing Netrebio before, October satellite beamed matinee emerged better however than opening night. Acting, compared with how she appeared in Vienna, looked stiffer – toward reliably reflecting narrow world, perspective inhabited, as David McVicar offers us. Vocal production last spring was more open, fluid, employing more legato – resulting in significantly better intonation than in this first Met run. Equally unyielding as the set design was the often rigid, intermittently clumsy conducting of Marco Armiliato – particularly unyielding to singers at good handful of critical junctures.

Gaetano Donizetti makes Anne Boleyn quite a multi-faceted character. His music offers effectively, quixotically an Anne girlish naïve, anguished over personal guilt in her having had to take Catherine of Aragon’s place, defiantly incisive for defending her honor – especially while confronting Enrico but also midway incidentally during private audience granted Jane Seymour. Noble heights then should get reached for potentially heartrending pardon of Giovanna, then moral resolve in accepting her fate while insisting on defending her honor - toward phase of Anna’s wandering in and out of lucidity – such dramatically that Netrebko interpreted halfway well, perhaps still somewhat generically

Donizetti never came up with a more moving heroine, one filled out with more nobly achieved, yet comparatively simply adorned lyricism – especially during final scene – than Anne Wide psychological and musical range any soprano must encompass to sing this makes it unlikely that Donizetti offered divas any greater challenge. The more inward turning Maria Stuarda, more evenly sublime, comes across as some respite, while still being very aesthetically demanding.

Netrebko’s countenance overall generically looked unsettled – for brief reflection on how sad and taciturn Jane first appears and for affection towards Enrico upon first greeting him. Impetus here was to attempt building upon previous achievement across the pond – toward infusing Anne with more tragic weight, gravitas. Extra effort applied tended more to obscure than to illuminate matters however. Opening pair of arias best exemplified problems to afflict Netrebko most of the way through Act One. Thick production, wodge right around the break, and unstable reach for what lies above seriously compromised both phrasing and intonation. Things here started out way too heavy, especially given the natural lighter timbre of Netrebko’s voice, seriously compromising grasp of Donizetti’s internally varied melodic cantabile that on its own, builds, through variety of nuance, much character. Much snatching of extra breaths demonstrated much lapse in good judgment here. Semaphoring to Percy to discourage his doing anything rash and impetuous embrace of Enrico both looked stiff, awkward.

‘In quegli sguardi, cantabile during Act One extended finale, de-tethered both intonation and phrasing wise, but fortunately hardly any awkward moment occurred after that. Forceful cabaletta to this finale and then ‘Coppia iniqua’ that both meant rough sailing opening night became better focused, forceful this time. Netrebko fortunately restored some measure of poise, dignity for the equally challenging Second Act. Scene, trio with Percy, Enrico, especially in terms of confronting Enrico registered focused, dramatically succinct. Lyrical cantabile’s during extended finale, albeit without intonation being one hundred percent, brought out best the qualities that distinguished Netrebko’s Vienna run from this run at the Met. Establishing, making ring true the emotional journey Donzietti embarks his heroine upon during scena with Giovanna Seymour became muted here.

Stephen Costello, for which press had generated higher hopes, turned in for especially the first half a disappointing Percy. Written for Rubini, legendary for his brilliant Rossini, Donzietti supplied him the acuti, but perhaps not as much the opportunity for display – replacing it with more forceful rhetoric – as might have best flattered Rubini’s gifts. His Act One pair of arias always gets transposed down, putting much of its tessitura right below the break – where Costello sounded most comfortable entire evening long High notes carried sufficient ring, but right below, tone became thin, phrasing stiff – runs somewhat raw and poutish appearance hardly more ingratiating. Netrebko and Costello did not succeed in matching voices well until into Act Two terzetto together. Recitative into prison scene with Rochefort fortunately sounded less comprimario than such during Act One, as did Vivi tu’ flexibly molded, securing more convincing dramatic stance for Percy’s last important appearance on stage. Keith Miller made sympathetic, but hardly authoritative presence needed as Rochefort.

Ekaterina Gubanova proved perhaps slightly miscast as Giovanna Seymour. Agility over many florid runs was good, singing in middle register(s) always even, but until Act Two, upper reaches produced a bit glassy in quality and low notes somewhat swallowed, weak. Playing Seymour slightly disproportionately as fully sympathetic, as very sincere Gubanova is, registered awkwardly – and motivated especially through gran scena with Netrebko something approaching an incipient whine, distracting focus. Elina Garanca, even with somewhat glib, guarded countenance, issued forth more convincingly Jane Seymour’s complexity, in a way moreover the quite openly duplicitous character of her emotions. Anne’s pardon of Jane, also for the more compelling simplicity of Netrebko’s manner in Vienna to then match with both Garanca and Evelino Pido’s better filling out of accompaniment, became something more meaningful there. Through heroically approached, conquered Act Two (mostly) solo scena, Gubanova achieved an attractively compelling, successful Second Act.

Some baggage this new production carried along with it that may have encumbered even Gubanova hardly afflicted the Enrico (Ildar Abdrazakov) and Smeton (Tamara Mumford) at all. Abadrazkov made up for dry tone obstructing some of his efforts almost fully by imaginative phrasing, most of all good acting, and sufficient agility to make, insinuate very well runs, arpeggios to fill out line between much stern declamation, and conniving much subtly declaimed insinuation as well. The handsome swagger, utter haughtiness, cruelty while keeping intact Enrico’s humanity – was always compelling - menacingly with ‘In separato carcere’ - big moment helping usher in stormy cabaletta (Netrebko) ending Act One among handful of good ones.

Tamara Mumford, as boy Smeton –good model for Ratmir in Glinka’s Ruslan (that Irina Verbitskaya sensually made smolder from early postwar Bolshoi what can easily otherwise sound distracted) – best approximated emulating Verbitskaya here. Mumford might plausibly become the Met’s next Seymour several seasons hence. Coltish, boyish charm carrying forth, unencumbered lightness, insinuatingly nuanced agility Mumford invested fully made the case for Smeton being both musically and dramatically relevant. Smeton entering during second Act Two chorus had Mumford appear as though having just been let out from Abu Ghraib – but not stealing dignity from how Mumford infused her closing lines moments before ‘Coppia iniqua’ sallied forth.

Obtrusive, not so much pretentiously, more than helpful was Marco Armiliato’s stiff, unimaginative leadership. Mild sympathy for the idiom manifested itself with competent ability to keep things moving, maintain ensemble. Such however, even though common, does not really suffice at making the case. Abetting having Costello slam into the arioso (‘Ei vive’) anticipating his First Act arias was however one really awkward moment.

Compartmentalizing downbeat and pacing undercut great scene making confront two divas - then great equalizer of sorts, so to speak. Pido, better elucidating grasp of form, of Donizetti’s striving to break free of strict allegiance to pre-established bel canto procedures again provided better framework. Donizetti’s final revision of this scene revealingly made it, dramatically, potentially very riveting. Likewise, opening chorus to final scene – listen to Gavezzeni set (with Callas) for how intensely moving this can be – thanks both to stiff podium and tremulous Met women, came off flat-line shallow sounding instead. Otherwise, as tragedy inexorably deepens, Armiliato adopted a more yielding stance, better responsive to situation at hand for much of what remained.

With Netrebko, one can not entirely fail to find her musically and dramatically gifted, almost sufficing some self-critical acumen as well, but it seems a nagging complacency can often take over – after reaching a certain point with what she accomplishes – ultimately in regard to her vocal health as well. And this was a little more conspicuously her show than her earlier Vienna run.

Discouraging toward attending this ‘live’ was auditioning ‘Non v’ha sguardo’ from Met opening night alongside Renata Scotto’s (from early 1970’s Philadelphia broadcast). For serious vocal production issues addressed earlier, they were practically identically alike. Never mind Netrebko speaking of finding her own way once having checked out Callas and Leyla Gencer No doubt much got invested here – effortful too – with inflexible vocal presence always lurking beneath the surface matched with stiff podium - austere visuals over the long haul affecting stage demeanor as well. One had to have been impressed by what Netrebo accomplished, but through all this somehow seldom moved.

DR Kultur: Bamberg SO, Jonathan Nott LIVE. Mysteries of the night - all toward clamorous blaze of day. Ives Three Places. Mahler Seven. 24.5.11.

2011-05-30T01:08:00.000-07:00

Jonathan Nott continues quite a successful Mahler cycle both in concert in Bamberg's warm Keilberth-Saale and on disc with the Bamberg Symphony Orchestra Nott now has playing comparably well to numerous leading orchestras in Europe. His Mahler first caught my attention with a Fourth played by Bamberg at the 2006 BBC Proms, turning this music on its dark side while framing such with strong linear and textural clarity.

If any previous Mahler interpreters serve as example to Nott, it may be Pierre Boulez; differences too between both stand out. Simultaneously arguably most controversial of Boulez’s Mahler interpretations, favorite of mine from among them is of the Seventh Symphony. The slightly heavy, yet dry – near end of the peak of the Dohnanyi era – approach to Romantic music, Mahler included, of Cleveland balances well with Boulez’s ironic, dour wit, fire for the Seventh – brisk pace notably through second Nachtmusik. Getting past quasi-Brucknerian terracing of contrasting episodes, buildup through the first movement, Boulez and Nott both recall to mind Hermann Scherchen’s way with Mahler. Especially memorable his 1965 Toronto broadcast of this (especially for having popped it on a first time one hour after pseudo-Furtwangler slog Christoph Eschenbach made long ago here through a stellar cast Don Giovanni (Mattila, der Walt, Thomas Allen, Fleming as Elvira, Cachemaille).

Boulez’s interpretation of the Seventh repeated over PBS last year recorded live from Chicago; some of Boulez’s more obvious interpretative decisions got smoothed out, making all seem less decisive, driven home than before from Cleveland (on DGG - though on wit, risk-taking still a bit shy next to Scherchen).

Bamberg now certainly has an orchestra for Mahler with which to reckon. Burnished melos from their winds, buttery lower strings - good if not quite alone definitive qualities, Nott has helped make distinctive toward utterly specific expressive, interpretative purposes. A pervasive nostalgic air characterizing the Mahler Seventh, elusively so for most notably the second Nachtmusik Nott had his forces fully intimate - revealing how in Mahler’s sonorities, conceptualization thereof, some of the bottom has fallen out – hollowness, exposed gaps left in its wake. Gone is some of an acerbic, (proto-)neo-classical, practically Stravinskian quality like from Boulez, but not completely – instead more subtly reckoned intimation of the same. What has been (exaggeratedly) assessed as clinical detachment characterizing the Boulez is equally revealing. Pool out of which Mahler draws references to the past is deep. What references occur, with what detachment, irony, distortion, other device Mahler applies gain their elusive, ephemeral quality thereby – with no single exemplary way to illustrate this.

Nott opened this program with masterpiece by comparable genius transcendentalist Charles Ives – Three Places in New England – Mahler more sophisticatedly effective at it in his Seventh, Ninth, Das Lied than in his Third Symphony. All one might have sought from Nott and his forces playing Ives was a little more earthiness than emerged here. Mahler admired Ives to extent he carried back a copy of Ives’s Third Symphony back to Europe with him, with it in mind getting it performed there. Nott’s grasp of Ives’s music seems complete, except perhaps in one area – its frequently brash qualities, utter plethora of vernacular sources. Swagger for middle movement comedic Putnam’s Camp – study, likely, for large Ives Fourth Symphony scherzo - its march rhythms from ‘Marching Through Georgia to the British Grenadiers - was good, if less uninhibited than might be ideal. Deeply intoned syncopations, limned by harmonics above, provided broad shape for long moment of stillness, for it rapt intensity as well.

Diaphanous, languid sense of mystery to open most extended picture among the three, the ‘St Gaudens in Boston Commons’ was complete – all groping to form out of several intervals good intimation of Afro-American ‘spiritual’ – deeply expressive Bamberg woodwinds helping carry to satisfying closure idea deeply suggested here. Empathy Ives feels for plight of black regiment during the Civil War, musical comment on such is hardly equaled elsewhere. Direct simplicity from principal chairs compensated well for incidental Bambergeois smoothing out of more extravagantly scored passages. Stretto from differing strands of material to combine, also clash with each other Nott supplied rhythmic shape, acuity, even some earthiness from his strings – if intermittently less freedom than is preferable.

Tempos for all three pieces were slightly slower than usual. The most evocative piece of the three, and abstract, the Housatonic at Stocbrdge – found Nott the most at home with what he confronted here. The textural density of this music and its subtly compressed quality are such Nott can not anymore find daunting. The Romantic appeal of landscape both pointedly and evocatively described in words (simply written down, not performed at all) found Nott completely at ease – comparable to what a mature Bartok or Ligeti accomplished years later – with interwoven melismatic chromatic descant very flexibly, limning broad melodic line – fully evoking Nature, inhaling mists all about. Stretto toward eventually arriving loud dissonant climax formed very effectively organically from what preceded it – with most inhibition at last put aside. Out of the swirls, rushes of the Housatonic might form a lake comparable to what next composer listed might have then rowed or swam across.

Nott, oars ready to traverse lake about, invited his players to openly, warmly resonate all before them, clarinets sticking out to further enhance color, warmth - stringent upper winds and strings to profile craggy rock, cliffs aloft. Remainder of the way Nott marked deliberately, with strings, winds, bellicose trumpets on cusp of breaking out, anticipating the Exposition. Equine upbeats to proceeding march step got vividly, lightly marked, brightly lifting sense of forward motion going. Natural shaping of rubato, sonorities underneath, eschewing unmarked slowdown, provided ascending second theme superb elasticity. Marking of tuba line helped tighten up return of the first theme. Reminiscence of second theme semitone lower (B Minor) occurred with continual forward motion - pizzicato, woodwind cries eerily punctuating the night air.

Atmosphere remained spectral for coolly approached strands of first theme - marked timpani accenting then spurring all on forward. In the hands of somebody less adept, eschewing sturm und drang here might suffice to throw off center of gravity – no issue for Nott. Pastoral episode entered all forest mercurial - as though lost, from ‘another world.’ Full flowering out of ‘sehr breit’ reprise of second theme, for refusal to distend it earlier had it emerge fresher than normally one can anticipate. High entrance on violins getting transition to recapitulation going had Nott observing the ‘a tempo’ written in there instead of – too commonly – docking it. An earthier, lustier vigor then arose through especially the strings, forest immersed fire then coursing way through the rest, picking up most sturm und drang along the way, but without excessive bombast or empty banality Mahler already provided the means to avoid.

Nott favored, compared with fleeter Boulez, moderate pace for Nachtmusik I. Contrast of sonorities, still allowing much acerbity, fit here warmer approximation of Knaben Wunderhorn motifs. Gradual at building atmosphere, all naturally opened out - toward march refrain in violins being cadenced on rattle (trills) on low register clarinets. With moderate breeze coursing through first trio section, Nott became attentive to dotted rhythms being precise contrasting with how violins drowsily spin out the rest. Groping lower strings enveloped then remotely placed reprise of main section. Spectral second trio (F Minor), with ‘irdisches Leben’ plaintive winds purposefully came off acrid, less sublime. Light descending terraced winds helped dissemble memory of cellos’ klezmer refrain to same idea,, all preparing surreptitious tone for brief transition back to forthright refrain, despondently so. Reprise of first trio passed by more urgently – as though intended fleeting, passé thereby. Main march motifs made final sheepish return - false or precarious step always right around the corner - with all then spinning off into a void.

Nott became closest to Boulez on central scherzo - ‘Schattenhaft.’ It became distinctively so for Nott with less projected, more resonant Bamberg forces to make stand out its garish, acrid, shuddering occurring throughout, then to more potently extrude to abet ubiquitous menace, do greater harm from within. Measured step starting out was perfectly adept, followed by blunt sudden capture of foreground for descending rapid run in dark woodwinds – as having emerged out of nowhere. Icy, tremolo like runs in the strings sharply cut through mists, nebulae about. Strings then attacked waltz refrain with schmaltzy, confident abandon. Insistence to avoid oboe led trio turning mawkish Nott staged by having violins eerily match in their descending trailing off wiry tone from the oboes. Besotted accenting from viola solo Nott made to infect violins and timpani. Nott prevented all through bumpy ride back into scherzo from stabilizing until plaintively reply from oboes in minor-key Neapolitan. Hole dug out of warm Bamberg sonorities only grew deeper, still more so from then on.

Fragility within warm glow Nott had infuse Nachtmusik II became quality less to forefront than subtly pervading it all instead. Obvious sensation got provided by pungently marking this music’s well varied acrid dissonances, but all as though having percolated out of the twilit Romantic glow. Even while fully inhaling nocturnal fragrance all about, there was more than just this means by which Nott set up some aesthetic distance; Mahler’s music does here itself. Nowhere did doing so provide greater dividends than with Nott’s shaping of song like middle section – no obvious places excessively lingered over – with natural rubato rendering line its normal shape. Comments midway through the trio section maintained their reticent, dour character intact. Reprise of ‘’Traumerei’ opening enhanced overall relaxed air, followed, contrasted then by stringent push through violins’ led stretto, fleshing out high and dry their internal dissonances – without breaking line. Atmosphere about got deeply absorbed during process of all fading away – all in beautifully rounded perspective – anticipatory as much as nostalgic.

Conventional way with similar finale to the Fifth Symphony is to reward its formal complexity with broad pacing, providing all its fugue and chorale a Brucknerian weight, portentousness – such as one encounters on the old Barbirolli recording. Treating similarly the finale to the Seventh is judged to be riskier, given its brightly lit color, its surface wise more obvious banality – its superficially light weight harmonically and extensive parody, Rapid, tight interlocking of harmonic progressions working their way through Nott invoked toward working a spell over all his players – with the Stravinsky of Petrouchka, Symphony in C - pan-diatonicism with the latter - imminent.

Pacing things broadly, Nott, increasingly interwove much subtle terracing into Mahler’s scoring – confident to expose where Mahler has intentionally left gaps, places where voicing does not get doubled properly. Lift to ebullience, all pomp, the overtly festive character here hardly ever got minimized at all. Brass and strings strongly competed amongst themselves at serving up lusty fervor to Meistersinger and other popular tune refrains. Suspected academic quality to Nott’s interpretation, instead of denying the comedy infusing all this, deepened it, provided it more savor than crudely underlining it can. Busoni’s music fleetingly came to mind, ‘’higher knowledge’ to be derived thereof, and then with for instance widely spaced low trombone underpinning ‘sextuplet’ spinning forth laendler in the strings, the first especially of the Ninth’s two central scherzos.

Shock of what gets encountered earlier found at last rich fulfillment in treating the finale to the Seventh with much deserved respect, thus making first movement ‘caravan’ episode toward the end sound less like location where things might have suddenly derailed, to instead psychologically have been likely eventually all along.

NPR: LOC 2010-11 opener - Verdi's Macbeth - attempting making virtue of the pedantic, insipid. New production (Barbara Gaines). Renato Palumbo.

2011-05-25T09:13:00.000-07:00

Lyric Opera of Chicago opened 2010-2011 with Verdi’s Macbeth - first time for Macbeth to be produced there in eleven years. There were several strong elements in play here, one that it was the season opener, and in it featuring a traditional modern abstract production by Barbara Gaines – founder and director of Chicago Shakespeare Theater. She has developed a fine reputation as such in the Windy City. Reliable not to send Lyric off on a limb again or on opening night, she made her operatic debut with this. According to press, she brought out detail most likely known just to people familiar with Shakespeare and thorough story background - much there also merely for sake of visual spectacle.

Lyric’s patrons seemed to be likely getting best of all possible worlds – a production simultaneously looking up to date, displaying sophisticated special effects and playing it safe to reward itself for being faithful to the text; no traditionalists other than the die-hard would take offense. There then was a respected producer from the community and two big names on the circuit as lead protagonists and particularly in Nadja Michael’s case, who look good. It seemed however as though there was perhaps extra detail, a little sophomorically over-explanatory, distracting attention from what should be at heart – and without developing meaningful frisson with the same. It ultimately seemed good news to still many traditional patrons that Lyric was not reviving David Alden’s production from last time.

Could it then be worthwhile John Van Rhein (Chicago Tribune) knows well matching, parallel social opprobrium up there to ours to make it good for Lyric to never revive the David Alden? Houston Grand Opera, sharing Catherine Maliftano as Lady Macbeth, played it in late 1997. Asher Fisch conducted the Alden production for Chicago well - then to return this past season to Lyric for Ballo in maschera. From listening to all three relevant broadcasts, the one most compellingly dramatic was Lyric’s 1999 Macbeth. Macbeth likely suited Fisch’s abilities, Verdian potential better than Ballo, latter that for its enigmatic, shifting character, found Fisch slightly aloof.

Renato Palumbo’s conducting of Macbeth from Lyric was simply erratic, unclear as to what it wanted to significantly bring to light. Fatuously tentative attempt at making calibration with Gaines’s overly busy stage direction was likely an issue, apart from whatever meaningful Gaines brought up on terms of psychological complexity, concerning the Macbeths. Nadja Michael’s accommodating Verdi’s music to her own vocal problems also confused matters.

Thomas Hampson (Macbeth) amidst this cast sounded most of all as though operating in a vacuum. Musical, dramatic intelligence he invests in what he sings still manifests itself. Macbeth reassuringly is the more passive member of the murderous couple; Gaines likely enhanced the effect by bringing to the fore metaphorically much sexual tension between the two, mostly at Macbeth’s expense - sexual frustration, too, with it perhaps some of the only thrill that Macbeth can get while being goaded on by his wife.

Since being filmed twelve years ago in Zurich again as Macbeth, Hampson’s voice has naturally darkened; strain while attempting high notes now accompanies subtle change to quality of timbre and weight. His opening duet, ‘Due vaticini’ with Banquo evinced fine line, steadiness, noble poise. Dignified wariness, foreboding informed first extended scena with Lady Macbeth – but compromised by insufficient power for several notes above the staff and streamlining of inevitable cabaletta.
Apparitions of murdered boys found Hampson confidently defiant but with little tether from orchestra pit upon which to anchor his lines. Trickier still, similar held true for his banquet scene hallucinations. Hampson descended to engaging in Sprechstimme for confronting second vision (and then somewhat again during ‘Vendetta’ duet closing Act Three). One listening keenly could reckon early on in dialogue - first between Macbeth and hit men - attempt by Hampson to fish out where (musico-) dramatic focus might be or from among whoever on the sidelines one might be able to gin or cook up some..

Hampson’s effort to capture Macbeth’s repossession of noble emotions rang slightly hollow. Good affectation of Verdian line for “Pieta, rispetto amore occurred, but compromised by fatigue, hollow mid-range, and undesirable tendency to fletcherize several phrase endings. David Pountney, who directed Macbeth at Zurich for Hampson (and Paoletta Marrocu), watching his production marks return to a more auteur approach to staging opera – without going so far out on a limb as David Alden, or more vulgar, Martin Kusej (Munich) – production in which Naidja Michael also took part. Even as glibly conducted by Franz Welser-Most – Pountney evinced clear sense of where all dialogue, insinuation, the dramatic argument lead. Hampson capitalized well on much in Zurich; fortunately numerous vestiges of his interpretation of Macbeth remained well intact here.

If evaluated on vocal power, swanky good looks alone, Nadja Michael (Lyric debut) is just ‘the babe’ for Lady Macbeth. She freely offered both in spades, plus fine agility up and down the range – except for glaringly insecure high notes. For part hanging out in a slightly higher tessitura than is hers to handle, there resulted issues as to how to negotiate characteristics of this part less depended upon than usual to sell the soprano lead.

Letter reading was haughty, grandiose. “Vieni t’affretta” started out well, but became thick, wobbly; eventual sag to line revealed take on this number low on steel, sustained vehemence, Albeit for handful of strong accents, cabaletta sounded equally tentative. Approach to following duet with Macbeth came across laid back. “La luce langue” from both Michael and Palumbo became a shapeless morass, essentially making nonsense of attempt at forza for anti-heroic coda to it – line having already petered out.

Openly ridiculous was – as reported by Seen and Heard - Lady Macbeth’s starting Brindisi both staged as and sounding besotted – idea, no doubt, but one easy to sum up as what a neophyte must have brought in to committee. With this music, way it is marked, it made little sense - evident not yet producer’s ability to develop element of frisson between text and layered on commentary just as of yet. Attempt to restore calm, starting second verse, with over-emphasized hesitations to start each line also heavily strained credulity. “Una macchia” (sleepwalking scene) Michael rendered authoritatively, but for frequently melodramatic emphases. Intonation frequently soured near and above the break.

Italian-American tenor Leonardo Capalbo made a conventional Macduff – too rushed to settle in vocally – to effectively, early on, help announce foul play having just occurred. Recitative and ‘Ah la paterna mano’ sounded full of ardor, with good line, but all slightly heavy-handed. Clipping of cabaletta to follow between both Capalbo and Palumbo was cheap, vulgar. Konstantin Stepanov emerged sounding slightly thin as Malcolm. Slovakian bass Stefan Kocan with dark, grainy timbre, met Hampson favorably for first scene together. He tended to slightly push his voice toward achieving grander scale, resulting in tight vocal production – and then lost good intonation on several low notes. “Come dal ciel precepita”, accompanied well, Kocan made carry expansive weight, gravitas, foreboding. Fully long-breathed legato seems to slightly evade him, even with fine cultivated ability to lyrically phrase Banquo’s music at his behest.

Synchronization issues have been pointed out about the new Barbara Gaines production, concerning how to better move witches’ choruses around expeditiously. It was also Renato Palumbo’s responsibility to insist the stage direction not overdo or ‘work so hard’ much animated gesture occurring on stage. Even with mostly good choral and orchestral precision at his disposal, Palumbo hardly brought any identifiable concept to bear upon Macbeth. Whatever the staging conceits, Duncan’s music during Act One did not gradually enter and exit as it played, yet is precisely indicated to do just that.

Murderers’ chorus in residential area park was sufficiently, consistently loud to awaken city block nearby. At times, some Italianita was evident in assisting shaping rhythms, vocal lines. Distortion of accompanying rhythms opening concerted ensemble closing Act Two forced, without anything stopping along the way, Thomas Hampson had to suddenly make funny segue, elision for all to hang together right. Such action made effective something clearly resembling new change of meter – still unfamiliar to me.

Obsequious to singers, Palumbo was most frequently the type to just blithely follow along, while robbing this music of much of its solemnity, terror, its mystery and grandeur. Elaborate was the tethering of flying witches, ghosts attached to guywire above the stage while leaving more imposing, pressing vocal rhetoric de-tethered from orchestral support below, including a crudely pushed sa-shay accompanied sleepwalking scene Choral preparation was left very reliably up to Donald Nally – undercut by minimal observation of Verdi’s dynamic markings. Palumbo remained content to conduct as accompanist to both singers and this production instead of leading Verdi’s Macbeth.

Dr Kultur: Gustav Mahler Todestag Konzert. Glowing valecdictory 'Das Lied.' Claudio Abbado. A.S.von Otter, Jonas Kaufmann. Philharmonie. 18.5.11

2011-05-24T12:42:00.000-07:00

Claudio Abbado accepted honor of doing 2011 Mahler Todestag concert for Berlin – commemorative of his passing one century ago. Two works from Gustav Mahler’s late period occupied this program. Adagio from the unfinished Tenth Symphony opened. Ample, well varied tonal opulence made interpretation here distinctive. A sense of contaminazione – through developing thematic material - became something with which to reckon. Lushness from the strings hearkened back to days the Berlin Philharmonic could play this music with still greater ease. The Philharmonic grew in other ways more attuned to playing Mahler under Abbado - its boorishness, klezmar, eccentricities all becoming more of a natural than during tenure preceding his.

Opening violas resounded distraught – searching, trailing off during introductory idea provided – then to fully realize obbligato to opulent first subject. Abbado deliberately marked recurrent theme for B section during its first visitation. More fully harmonized, brass increasingly prominent, Abbado slightly set back restatement of first theme to build early melodic intensity before through variation process thematic elements then begin disintegrating. Violins passionately sang descant over main theme, for all then to abruptly dissipate into trailing off recitative. Outpouring of emotion henceforth sounded put somewhat at an aesthetic distance, as though to temporally observe from afar.

Any deconstructionist feel is really Mahler’s own – that Abbado let speak for itself – also to eschew notion, even after numerous completions of the Tenth that it is still anything but a torso. (I believe Mahler Ten, though arguably could be completed through the third movement – there seems almost enough there for even the obviously uncompleted first scherzo second movement, but still silly to have attempted completing anything past ‘Purgatorio’ - brief third movement interlude.

Color during quasi-Allegretto-like Andante pages was piquant, with pizzicati in violas and cellos enhancing spectral pre-Messiaen bird call, flutter in woodwinds. Voicing in lower strings, doubled sometimes in the bassoons that often get covered up in an ersatz-Brahms or perhaps Reger like dense texture got fully drawn out to both expand upon the opulence of Mahler’s rhetoric while making one hear from beneath what also tears at, rends the fabric. Chamber groupings of winds with concertmaster strung out light febrile lines between dense tutti.

Any sign of insecurity here was likely due to nature of the material itself. One might have sensed matter-of-fact trailing of unaccompanied violins' duet right before damply realized organ like progression leading into the Adagio’s dissonant climax. Light Abbado shot through such accumulated dissonance then infused lines of peaceful resolve through the remainder of this while keeping violins restrained with their vibrato – until chromatically leaning into low harp starting cadence preparing evocative chord to follow. Brief moment stable in the key of E-Flat high in the violins provided fine benediction – Abbado following Mahler’s instructions to keep matters here simple. This place can ideally, hypothetically provide the listener glimpse of the other side – such a way the Tenth’s very incomplete finale gets spoken of. This Adagio, under the right circumstances, will say all that Mahler Ten can say; here it did.

The other symphony on this program was one alongside that of the Eighth Abbado has conducted least frequently of all of Mahler’s symphonies – unofficially his ninth - just called ‘Das Lied von der Erde.’ Numerous early Abbado Mahler performances were with the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. A cool temperament, grasp of atmosphere was paramount then, stressing the surface brilliance, linear clarity of Mahler’s writing, its virtuosity more than other factors then. A more thorough musicality, emotional depth he has eventually well provided, especially through again the Ruckert and Ninth symphonies with Berlin.

A glowing opulent radiance suffused the first movement, ‘Das Trinklied von Jammer der Erde’ throughout. Such in Mahler from the Berlin Philharmonic often gets replaced nowadays by something drier or urbane Things on top lines here started forthright in one, with feeling of some dragging (far) underneath. With this opening movement, Abbado seemed restrained about opening out very much, preferring to defer to his tenor Jonas Kaufmann. Kaufmann with lean tone and a ringing top brought out, unusually febrile, great expressivity of timbre while sustaining good legato and keen, impassioned attention to text. The forced joy on for instance ‘Herr, dieser Haus’, anti-heroism, deep angst came across completely. This piece can hardly get sung better than this.

Kaufmann resounded forth at ease with a ringing ‘euch Klingen’ – long sustained appoggiatura on (B-Flat and) A to fill out ‘Welkt hin du stribst. While stopping short of emphasizing surface brilliance at the music’s expense, Abbado continued slightly cool, detached, while always attentive to Kaufmann. English horn solo/obbligato during central orchestral interlude of this helped fill matters out, complemented morosely by Kaufmann on ‘Das Firmanent,’ for all to then fill with menace for ‘Du aber Mensch’; and ‘following.’ Even with Abbado deferring just emotionally one or two layers back, Kaufmann made very intense the start of last full stanza to this, then to gently back off at tormented brindisi’s conclusion. Abbado provided strong profile to dramatic utterances during its closing stanza.

In contrast with the more contralto like Thorborg, Ferrier, or Ludwig, we had here near as illustriously Anne Sofie Von Otter. “Einsam in Herbst’ here started off at easily flowing pace, never rushed - all orchestrally continuing to leave, likely deceptively a weightless impression. A richer quality to mezzo of choice’s middle register might be coveted, but pay-off in phrasing this music from a more youthful, intimate perspective here was very clear.

Between woodwind and string sonorities from the Philharmonic and Von Otter, there was in some of the modal harmony, lines a blended sense of capturing the blues, greens, rich lavenders of Mahler’s sonorities here. Gentle sense of naïve wonder filled Von Otter’s voice at ‘man meint ein Kunstler.’ Through passing indications of despondency, Abbado connected through overall flowing line without undercutting their emotional or expressive content. “Mein Herz ist mude”, coming off such a moment Von Otter darkly intimated in place of heavily underlining it. Contrast between achieving a brightly plaintive ‘Ich komm zu dir’ and finding deep sadness for ‘ich weine viel’ was excellent.

One had to rely upon the Berlin Philharmonic for sufficient lightness on ‘Von der Jugend.’ Deeply expressive was Kaufmann’s handling of sudden infusion of melancholy halfway through – after starting this reticent, heavily on purpose, over Abbado and Berliners lightly pointing the chinoserie; they then joined Kaufmann in lingering over melancholy of having encountered something deep, so unknowable midway through.

Lightness through ‘Von der schoenheit’ was, especially from woodwinds Mozartean - youthful stance of Von Otter to match. Several weak low notes apart, all gradually opened out to a world half-opiate, half-transfigured. Abbado wisely chose to keep slight lid on bacchanalian accents during middle section to this, both without losing character or instead unduly rushing Von Otter through it. Combined deep yearning and brightly rich colors infused closing stanzas, passing moment of occluding despondency in postlude to this - not shortchanged - only to highlight expression, sound world in very strong relief.

“Der Trunkene in Fruhling’, slightly deliberately paced, anticipating ‘Abscheid’ somewhat, sank things in more deeply. Kaufmann, equally as earlier, was again perfect. Something of a truly besotted Chinese temperament strongly rubbed off here – something all at once reticent, stubborn or distraught – drowsily reticent Kaufmann’s handling of ‘Der Lenz ist da.’ Indication of distraction from the wonder of Nature all about an irony-laced Kaufmann potently picked up - with honeyed tone several places. Abbado calibrated the bright chatter of woodwinds against both lighter string and more foreboding sonorities with utmost simplicity.

Abbado set his interpretation of ‘Das Lied’ – what may have been allusive to Bruno Walter and/or Herbert von Karajan already – slightly more apart with ‘Abscheid.’ Sense of the fragility of Mahler’s sonorities over deep undertow remained mainstay here. More radical sounding still was, in specifically spacing everything, austerely a sense of vast empty space – without any massive slowdowns to achieve it.

Von Otter, with lighter voice than perhaps customary, while completely filling out her lines, meaning within, sang somewhat obbligato to overall orchestral line This held true, at ‘O sieh; Wie eine Silberbarke’ – spinning forth at once lighter tone and intense word painting. Berlin woodwinds emerged deeply expressive, such as lied-like oboe at ‘Der Bach singt’ – Von Otter extending, floating out continuing line thereof. Von Otter then found it more sublime to instead of overstating despondency with ‘Die mude Menschen’ to, more potently, merely suggest it.

Anticipating dry, utterly desolate rendering of ‘Die Welt schlaft ein’ was Abbado to evocatively highlight, set up in foreground various strands of horn and lower woodwind obbligato over muffled strings. Other sudden change of perspective, switching what may be in background with foreground, or sudden emergence in fore of something absent a moment earlier was but one subtle means Abbado employed to draw all he could out of the ‘Abscheid’ – Abbado also less the novice with Mahler’s music than was Karajan when he helped give the world the Berlin Philharmonic’s very first commercially issued rendition of ‘Das Lied.’. The greater emotional, psychological engagement Abbado strongly insinuated hardly held back any secrets. Certainty restating opening recitative (‘Es wehet kuhl’) concerning much grief was complete. Beseeching friend final time before parting became, by still lighter means, most intimately expressive – without breaking line.

Coming off Von Otter’s dry, but fully engaged ‘Lebenstrunkene Welt’, arrived abruptly recapitulatory cortege interlude forthrightly issuing forth ongoing tread. Reach for deeply chromatic intervals in lower instruments underneath, naturally compelled much despondency to the fore. A plaintively febrile Von Otter re-entered with ‘Er stieg von Pferd’, all then quietly distraught with ‘Er sprach.’ Even with tone light, sentiment expressed continued to be deep. Arising, emerging from desolate landscape was Von Otter’s febrile, Schubertian impassioned ‘Ich wandle auf der Heimat, with winds left to fill things out further. In a way Von Otter’s interpretation of Mahler’s ‘Das Lied’ resembled Stotijn’s – perhaps a little more Stotijn as she performed this for Metzmacher than the more tragically weighted performance in London under Bernard Haitink several months later.

Coda starting with ‘Die liebe Erde’ with Abbado restrained from having strings dig in too deep, preferring to more sublimely suggest their doing so instead – all lingering, from Von Otter included – quickly turned all febrile. Through obbligato in mandolin, celesta, all emerged radiant and warm – blues through overall perspective gradually turned up without gilding anything - Von Otter’s ‘Ewig’s’, all melting into soft down Berlin provided, still had allotted to them modest remainder of the way.

MDR Figaro - Save The Children Sendai Benefit: Leipzig Gewandhaus, Riccardo Chailly in harrowing Bruckner Eighth (ed. Nowak). 06.05.11

2011-05-11T00:48:00.000-07:00

Recalling time Riccardo Chailly started recording Anton Bruckner’s symphonies, ingredients for making of a fine Bruckner interpreter were likely present, but vague to discern. On half of the mature symphonies, little better than tentative came to fruition - the later recorded Sixth, Eighth, and Ninth exceptions. The Seventh Chailly, hardly older than thirty, recorded with RSO Berlin now cries out for him to return to it in Leipzig soon. His take on Bruckner, already modernist, was one to immediately emphasize clean lines, but easy to find fragmented, confused sounding with verticality of Bruckner’s sonorities, emphasis on projecting tone, including with lush quality of the string writing - all cutting in at various angles. Hieratic aspects of Bruckner’s music, with hardly well focused alternative to replace them, got understated.

Chailly’s Decca Bruckner cycle, recorded in Berlin and then Amsterdam, came to a conclusion with the Eighth – good qualified success with it - fourteen years after recording the Seventh. Now twelve more years have passed. After fifteen years in Amsterdam, first ten years of which seemed to reflect some unease, situation in Leipzig with Chailly there these past five years seemed to hit the ground running from the outset. Leipzig’s strings have a little darker patina and fibrous edge to their sound than their Dutch counterparts - woodwinds darker color as well. Chailly has infused Leipzig’s playing with a deep smoldering fire that surges through them all.

Chailly and the Gewandhaus toured four Asian cities last March - Seoul, Hong Kong, and several days before the terrible northern Japan earthquake Tokyo with an all-Dvorak program and the Bruckner Eighth Symphony each. This performance happened as a benefit for Save the Children – regarding the many young victims of this catastrophe. Not only on humanitarian terms, but also on musical and aesthetic ones, this performance of the Eighth reflected selfless commitment by Chailly and all involved, most memorably to Anton Bruckner’s music.

In aspiring to grasp nobler, loftier heights in scaling the architectonics of the Eighth in Amsterdam, Chailly adopted an almost quasi-Brahmsian approach to slurring lines somewhat heavily over ends of phrases, employing allargando, other device to make space for doing so. Such (mild) affectation has mostly vanished now. The Ninth Symphony, as an aside, addresses new conflict, but without the ability to sustain the titanic conflict that at different junctures during the Eighth makes it so gripping. Chailly however with this Eighth, and with fine discipline not to sentimentalize the argument, took pains to place some of all this back, deciding upon an Eighth in which the music can most straightforwardly speak for itself.

Romantic conceits of making the Eighth metaphorically of either Promethean or transcendent Faustian proportions rested content to just be suggested here. The drama of Bruckner’s inspiration overall stepped aside from overtly taking on metaphysical proportions, but also not succumbing to any ‘period’ practice musicological conceit.

Chailly picked a comparably moderate pace for first movement to what he had before, but here inexorable forward motion beneath unimpeded by slightly belabored feigning of making overall reaching line connect. Fragmented character of the opening subject received more definite shape, less luftpausen, attenuation to make things slur over more than necessary. Confidence in both line and its components at last sounded assured. More expansive second theme still sounded mildly underlined, phlegmatic here, but enhanced by solid firmness underneath – still better separations within line observed once recapitulated. Forthright consequents in the brass were firm - retreating transition through woodwinds flowing, supple, through more classically arched, steady, trudging forward third theme group.

All continued taut underneath while supple through strings and winds spinning out inversions of first two theme groups. Anticipated arrival of the recapitulation, thoroughly prepared, sounded forth, gradual its buildup to a purposefully qualified climax full and compact. In 1999, Chailly, toward keeping all moving, rushed the quiet principal flute descant over unaccompanied trumpets’ ‘Annunciation.’ Toward maximum cumulative effect, all was steady this time - in mind too of expansively handled Adagio to come.

Expanded out transition to second group - by not over-blowing apex achieved right before - over single pitch continuing ‘annunciation’ trumpets made eloquent heavily descending unison strings intimating first subject as backed by Chailly’s from outset mildly classicizing conception of this music – still open to capturing this music's impetus to transcends formal restraints. Propulsion through third theme group toward ringing climax – full arrival at last of ‘Annunciation’ was infused with febrile sense of mystery. Picked up first theme group fragments Chailly gathered shape for from underneath in their mimicking the scaling of earlier achieved fine proportions.

Chailly, in 1890 scoring less elaborate than 1887 (original version), brought out the folk element in the Deutscher Michel’ rotating idea dominating the Scherzo here. Playing too was less thick from Leipzig strings than previously from Amsterdam, for shimmer of different colors and light to freely emerge through rustle mid-to-back to fill panorama still remaining full of much empty space. Chailly had his strings in Leipzig purposefully rise and fall, contract and diffuse in context of what was in front of them with fine simplicity, certainty and ease. Mystery capturing all this, while keeping prominent a never over-emphasized indigenous element, was complete.

Strings, deftly began Trio section, deferring to extended horn obbligato, then placing themselves more forward vis-à-vis clarinet, toward building, supported by brass, opulent cadential phrases, limned febrile thereof by harps. Intimation of great weariness infused brief re-transition, Chailly waiting until higher reaching cadential lines to employ underlining.

At considerably slow pace Chailly took the Adagio, there still remaining intimated sense of pull forward through its peaceful opening – palpably conveyed also here a sense of spiritual fatigue. Contentment with suggesting grandiosity for long ascending lines off heavy doubled third in the bass - as opposed to bloating them - was very apt toward preserving legato. Less absorption remarkably in what sonorities get built up through such opening revealed more thorough grasp of what gets confronted here.

Reprise of big ascending consequent Chailly then provided firmer shape. He made intentionally gradual grand arch to line in the cellos as second theme proceeded, from having started it, conventionally shaped, at a slightly accelerated pace. Reply from Wagner tubas toward cellos making part of the climb a third time warmly, succinctly framed the cellos doing so. Chailly very tellingly hesitantly shaped light transition to full reprise of the first theme - for winds reaching high for cadence, providing harmonically therein glimpse of light further opening out would later provide. Subtle detachment of ascending brass attempting to wrest themselves free of growing anguish in building stretto in strings above informed next full reprise of the first theme. Simplicity prudently informed next second theme reprise, limned well by fine concertmaster solo therein. All following striving then turned febrile, toward exposed violins making poetic lift - prefigured by winds - over which Chailly made beautifully sustained allargando.

Eschewing making harmonic change from very dark, fortissimo brass enunciation of first theme in B-Flat Minor to large A-Flat chord (slight awkwardness of Bruckner’s revision - Nowak edition here) from sounding climactic, Chailly slowly continued inexorably accumulating musical and dramatic tension – goal clearly perceptible here numerous paragraphs before – to stoically a noble climax. The risk-taking, interesting from Barenboim in Berlin last year, seldom otherwise, of imposing big accelerandi toward making it was not for Chailly – helping this Adagio, two and a half minutes longer than in Amsterdam, make it out to twenty-eight minutes - without becoming too slow or losing grasp of simplicity.

Strings on following harp-accompanied consequent eloquently eschewed fleshing out deeply constructed chordal progressions, making then all sound febrile on top. Subtlety Chailly might not have managed well much earlier, he included a hair-pin accelerando within starting final brass enunciations of first theme, pulling back from doing so right away, giving the conclusion of this Adagio full sense of repose and hinted, subtle impetus toward pressing forward at once - recalling DGG Berlin recording for how Karajan overshot the mark here. This was all true - vast empty space all about - achieved by taking this Adagio conscientiously slow. Very quiet break - almost ninety seconds - before the finale could begin was rapt.

The finale, only slightly slower than in Amsterdam, gained here finer nobility, resolve thereby. Contrast with urgency infusing starting idea in brass and chorale like well voiced second theme, was telling. Broad reach as slightly from behind in making transition to overtly breezily propelling forward third theme group paid fine dividends – brass consistently dark well beneath the strings. Fortissimo pressing forward on snatch of third theme, still plenty loud, eschewed making empty bombast thereof in favor of bringing out the strength of the trumpets’ motif, all toward readying poised Exposition closing lines. Hesitant false starts in strings with which Bruckner opens what follows Chailly provided fine shape, especially through replying brass.

Stoically insistent strings’ marking of brass sequence of descending consequents reminded of Klemperer’s manner of conducting such a passage. Febrile anxiety expressed by strings, followed by flexibly slackening of musical tension, excellently informed making re-transition off nodal sequencing preceding it. Ascending string tremoli spinning off firmly urgent restatement of first theme in full turned risky, in awaiting brass to lend all profile - better yet something achieved from observing all from very wide perspective.

Second theme sounded fuller than as encountered earlier. Third theme group pressed breezily its trudge forward, preparing first movement main theme arrival in C Minor well - rhetorical terracing of dynamics in the strings through their extended lines very fine. Chailly then began (arguably remainder of) the coda spaciously, brass deep in lament at outset, dotted rhythms then strongly marked – with at last second, press forward into final, stoically firm achievement of C Major, blazing forth unto measured proclamation of final four descending unison line to close all out, with it uncertain how, other than sternly, fulfilling a conclusion has at last arrived. Others, profoundly 1944 Furtwangler (Vienna PO), have found greater serenity in this finale; stoical perspective however though should be found equally valid.

This turned out Chailly’s most significant Bruckner to have easily run across thus far. It proved never lacking in philosophical import, with very well spaced sonorities common, abetted by broad shape to much of this – first movement alone in at slightly less time than in Amsterdam. Chailly’s vision of Bruckner here, making it to such complete fruition, crossed Gewandhaus footlights very compellingly.

Much spacious pacing vaguely recalled Sinopoli in Dresden (DGG); mostly some of its grayer modernist, despairing perspective got replicated here. Chailly lowered previous Romantic conceits by nakedly revealing with beautiful simplicity what vastness all about. It would be good to release this with perhaps for extended time Save The Children receiving proceeds toward relieving continuing great suffering in northern Japan – some expressive parameters of this Bruckner Eighth perhaps more acutely informed than usual by harrowing imagery of indeed a great tragedy - all very affecting, disquieting.

MET: Met McVicar Il Trovatore (in HD). Marco Armiliato. 30.4.11. Met Ariadne auf Naxos (on NPR) - Fabio Luisi.07.5.11

2011-05-10T06:33:00.000-07:00

David McVicar’s production of Il Trovatore at the Met, when it first opened there in 2008-2009 became something of a Godsend, particularly after Graham Vick’s production. Vick later disowned it, after the Met had imposed some changes upon it, but also after really disastrous luck in making this ever reliable old warhorse come to life. Should one want to pick up the ideal party opera dvd, a Genoa Lucia di Lammermoor Vick produced, starring Marcelo Alvarez in only decent vocal performance therein, contends strongly, misfiring in all ways imaginable, often risibly so.

The spring 2009 broadcast Il Trovatore – with same vocal quartet as cast here – likely turned out, with Gianandrea Noseda conducting, tmost thrilling of that season. Equally to only mildly more authoritatively was Bruno Bartoletti conducting this fairly recently from Lyric of Chicago – where this production originated. While less distorting of balances and of other subtle intentions Verdi requested than Nicola Luisotti in San Francisco, Marco Armliato while keeping all together and alternatively finding good poise and swagger for numerous passages, lacked much compelling to say about Il Trovatore.

David McVicar clearly has ideas about Il Trovatore, while giving it a critical look especially toward how participating nobility behaves. Given what eccentricity that can emerge from such a perspective, and based on experience thus far, this production looks to depend upon having a strong ally on the podium to help keep dramatic tension alive. The action is updated to ‘Goya period’ Spanish Civil War - and placed on a turntable set. Prison cell for final scene looked instead to be an outdoor prison courtyard to which to get chained up. Only too obvious awkwardness was change from cramped interior to ‘outdoors scaffolding’ - preceding ‘Di quella pira’

The brutality of period in history in question, sense of class warfare arose eloquently to the fore, near as much as likely on previous outings. Mix of common townspeople, laborers, Gypsies, soldiers milling about, and then generically lusty whores for scene of taking leisure opening Act Three provides color. Swashbuckling motif became slightly excessive, but with set up of tableau for confrontation ending Act Two highly adept. Lighting tends to be consistently dark – also manner in how this got beamed by satellite – to point of obscuring several essential details of action on stage. Costuming (Brigitte Reiffenstuel) true to updated ‘period’ – was consistently very handsome, attractive.

How entire milieu taking over agitates di Luna, Manrico, turns Leonora neurotic can, with somebody more thorough conducting this feed it an expressionistic grandeur and abandon – very welcome here – such as has transpired before On the surface, to Armiliato also, Il Trovatore is a singers’ opera. Toward one goal however of holding its occasionally disparate levels of musical and dramatic inspiration together, this is also clearly a conductor’s opera - perhaps more so. Crudely (almost) making orchestra more prominent than the singers of course is wrong – Luisotti conducting this same production in the Bay Area one most culpable.

Best of the three men for this outing, most even vocally, was still relative newcomer, Stefan Kocan as Ferrando. He cut a handsome figure with dark, grainy voice to match – excellent case for making Slavic equivalent of veteran basso Bonaldo Giaiotti on the old Price/Domingo/Mehta recording. Gruppetti, runs, turns were all accurate, even some trills, to make Kocan envy of any bass attempting this thankless part. He also, yet stoically, infused his lines during opening racconta with fine involvement. He in front of men of the Met chorus very capably led obbligato to Hvrostovsky during two ensembles midway through.

Central to McVicar;s thinking here is necessity of having a strong Azucena. The ever stalwart Dolora Zajick failed to disappoint him. Some streamlining of the process of putting this back in rehearsal for two runs at the Met this season may have taken its toll, but Zajick, with darting eyes for key moments, still commanded the stage. She stoically assisted McVicar in providing Azucena full sense of gravitas - for one so single-minded but also complex - in evincing both full warmth and menace – enhancing too the mystery surrounding the gypsy woman. Trills during ‘Stride la vampa’ may have been unsteady, Zajick’s voice overall may not consistently roll out the power it could instantly on command ten or twenty years ago, register shifts may be less even. Sense of authority though, from fine low notes through ringing top through most of her lines – was still intact. McVicar also opts for keeping Azucena alive at opera’s conclusion – logical perhaps in this context for her to have survived action thereof.

Marcelo Alvarez, who during excellently focused milieu of this production’s debut in 2009, gave of his lyric best – striking one then as only slightly underpowered for Manrico. He opted with abandon afforded him here to push a little more metal into singing Manrico this outing. Indisposed earlier during this run, he seemed to have recovered well to close this same run well. Ringing high B’s were intact, with fine swagger through ‘Di quella pira’, he managed to utter some honeyed tones during ‘Ah si ben mio’ and recitative preceding it, but still managed to chop up line somewhat during this passage toward making strong verbal emphases. Somewhat of a blank as an actor on stage, he emerged vocally most lyrical, convincing in the final scene of the opera, working closely with Zajick – doing so also paying off several dividends during their first scene together. Rhythmic slovenliness through a blustery ‘Deserto sulla terra’ to start things out was singularly unattractive – also his streamlining of refrain during the Miserere. His letting go of anything resembling good intonation for sake of achieving dramatic heft continued recklessly through Act One.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky played Manrico’s unsympathetic rival, di Luna. A little stiff at acting he still cut a commanding and handsome figure, with mane of silver hair, colonial style get-up, and during Per me ora fatale’ outstretched self-bloodied right hand – self-emboldening impetus for moments later taking on Manrico’s men – very insightful on David McVicar’s part.. Dark toned sense of mortal resolve carried across the footlights for recitative with which he first appeared on stage (‘Tacea la notte’) and made resentful looking, sounding ‘In braccio al mio rival’ later. Intonation issues surfaced for pumping out his sound that later intermittently turned into pure bluster – thank heavens less so than recently in San Francisco; his di Luna emerged entirely two-dimensional there.

Apart from bench-pressing the top, putting at risk maintaining legato, ‘Il balen’ came across stalwart, if less alluring than whomever out there might strive with smoother line to more subtly enhance it. Machismo in engagement with especially Manrico and Leonora, also an element of narcissism, surfaced well – compromised late by intonation momentarily going sour on him upon making final stage entrance.

Sondra Radvanovsky cut attractive figure on stage as Leonora, with noble ladylike poise for a good half of how she carried herself – still compellingly for the rest of this. Even if making Leonora appear willful or neurotic, a Leonora all noble, dignified without any sense of daring also obscures telling the whole story. Vocal placement, somewhat back, causing her to flat numerous times around the break, particularly during Act One, remains curious. Steadily infusing extra vibrato into the sound seems quite consistently her means of opening things out and achieving a clear, less occluded top better than might otherwise emerge – her reasonably even, creamy tone, legato underneath a mainstay. An excitability to laugh during several tense moments looked slightly out of touch – perhaps due to some streamlining this go-around. Superficially, Leonora may appear one of Verdi’s more passive heroines, but element belonging to Verdi’s earlier notably heroic warrior maidens, sense of new liberation they convey, can also factor in – if less so for Leonora than for handful preceding her. While having to confront di Luna, such likely should not remain under wraps. Radvanovsky looks fully convinced of how she portrays Leonora – apart perhaps from impetus to give things a little extra oomph she may this outing have sensed lacking from the orchestra pit.

Once past Act One, intonation problems became less significant. Floating of numerous lines during ‘’D’amor sull’ali rosee’ – starting off slightly flat - and during especially repeat of “Per che d’’altri vivere’ - long-breathed final entreaty to Manrico provided fine allure, winning much sympathy. Maria Zifchak (Inez) and Eduardo Valdes (Ruiz) capably led supporting cast – Robert Maher also fine (Old Gypsy). Choral preparation (Donald Palumbo), natural feel for moving chorus across stage, all sounded and looked very apt.

Marco Armliato evinced fine mastery of idiom with aplomb while not challenged by Verdi’s more subtle demands. His ear for catching this music’s colors is good. Swagger, specificity with Verdi’s rhythms throughout first scene of Act Three certainly came across forthright. With exception of glibly coasting through explosive transition into closing trio to Act Two, necessary fire to seethe through Il Trovatore became more evident during its middle two acts. In numerous passages, a glib streamlining of how to pace this work became the norm. Opening of the final scene suffered somewhat - passage in which Verdi achieved new heights of simplicity. Efficiency, loyal support of his cast, decent ensemble seldom came up short, yet some lack of fire to infuse, surge underneath, propel forward the best Trovatore’s one can encounter came up a little short; hopefully the same will occur again soon with this production.

With Fabio Luisi now new principal guest at the Met, perhaps soon more than that, a generous helping of Strauss from him over next handful of seasons or so can likely be welcome. Like an Elektra during fairly recent Christmas holidays, this Ariadne auf Naxos evinced an equal mastery of Strauss, the idiom, but as held back again in part by quality of some of the singing. Combination of catching the healthy robust air, thrust of prelude to the Prologue, lightness to infuse much from within revealed somebody a slight cut above average at this – inherent qualities slightly more evasive to Kirill Petrenko (new Bavarian State Opera music director designate) last season. Providing, combined, a fine sense of gravitas and importance, with dollop of fine comic wt and irony was Thomas Allen, in interaction with Major-Domo of Michael Devlin – Devlin fluent, but whining, marking it excessively, making more of it than can happen.

Voice still relatively intact, Joyce di Donato, absolutely certain to look charming on stage, vocally left some of the youthful qualities altogether infusing this part lacking. Determination to get Composer’s idea across did so at cost to stability of line and to intonation, all quite slippery around the break partly for what flutter one finds there now.

The impetuosity, even heroic quality of this character hardly got compromised, but something of the charm, openly at Sarah Connollly’s disposal last season, went missing here. Mystery of particular lines serving as preview to what gets raised after intermission got short changed by weak low notes – high notes also succumbing to strain for lack of support underneath. Thin as opposed to thick and strained, coy, utterly without charm was the Zerbinetta of Kathleen Kim – repeat from last year’s cast – less up to the demands of her big aria than for tentative stab at it last season. Attempt to expressively compensate for obvious sloppiness, compromised intonation during the aria were excessively breathy starts to especially lines starting on off-beats - to ruinous coy effect.

Contrast of gesture, intermixing of colors, unified pacing to the Prologue worked well for Luisi - mysteriously somehow little at his disposal useful toward helping out some of his cast. Among supporters during the Prologue, Tony Stevenson availed himself directly well as Dancing Master. Violeta Urmana and Robert Dean Smith individually affected prima donna manner, habits backstage with fine aplomb. Vasily Ladyuk dryly, but capably, with good diction led Zerbinetta’s sidekicks – team only let down by a coarsely dry Truffaldino (Joshua Bloom) but enhanced by recent Lindemann Young Artists grad Paul Appleby (Brighella) partnered well by Mark Schowalter (Scaramuccio).

Opera opening scene came across slightly glib, compromised by merely competent Nymphs (Audrey Luna, Tamara Mumford, Lei Xu) in place of a more consistently silvery impression. Luisi’s lightly malleable way of moulding Straussian line waited for Met woodwinds to enter to cast ispell during prelude to the opera. Curiously, return of the nymphs heralding arrival of ‘ein junger Gott’ came across hard-pressed, Luisi then waiting for orchestra moment before Bacchus enters to magically open out perspective. His accompaniment for Ariadne’s solos was warmly supportive throughout – lightness Luisi usually best at conveying while accompanying comedian troupe’s banter.

Violeta Urmana, past several early slightly uneven moments, with plummy, warm timbre, portrayed Ariadne as woman of stately poise and resolve The clumsy breaks that can too easily emerge between registers during recent attempts at spinto Verdi do not inhibit her efforts here. Slight Slavic edge near the break sneaked in, but hardly obstructively so. “Es gibt ein reich” carried forth with even line, intimating well a betrayed, stranded woman’s darker misgivings, but then direct manner with rapturous coda to this aria betrayed a keeping at arm’s length what infusion of vulnerability might work toward revealing the complete picture. Urmana conveyed well, darkly Ariadne’s more distraught emotions - before point Ariadne fully awakens to, becomes cognizant of new reality before her. Shock of mistaking Bacchus for Theseus blazed forth with a ringing high A. Once transformation should have done its work, however, Urmana came across cool, only dispassionately able to take all in where one might expect more involvement, yielding to it until during closing lines; one departed hearing this grateful most of all for some fine singing.

Robert Dean Smith, intensely lyrical Tristan on short notice at Met in HD three years ago, got handed here the thankless role of Bacchus. In attempting to sound heroic starting out, some strain ensued; such hardly ever fails to show up from most tenors attempting this. For relaxed passages to follow, “So willst du mit mir” and confident ‘’Bin ich ein Gott” toward gently bringing Ariadne around, Smith let melt most effortlessly. Once into last part of this scene, Smith finally then evinced good moment or two of ringing heldentenor sound, bringing Met forces under Luisi to point of at last fully breaking free from phlegmatically, as opposed to effortlessly negotiating, sostenuto, Strauss’s ornately voluptuous demands.

From pretense up front of being written for chamber orchestra, yet to take on larger peaks of Ariadne/Bacchus finale ahead with similar transparency, little goes unexposed here. By opera’s end all then should rhapsodically take flight. Luisi is not one to come up with transformation overnight of how Met forces (that likely might soon be his own) will approach playing Strauss. He reckons it something to communicate by most unforced means, something natural to the Met’s playing to slowly get inculcated as only certain way magic can transpire, as opposed to smugly putting contrivance forth instead.

With Ariadne – when she is bad truly Ariadne Obnoxious - orchestral forces can not alone make it happen - instead working alchemy between all constituent parts, especially singers, perhaps working past clunky staging conceits (Elijah Moshinsky production the Met still cranks out). It can mean the difference between the good, serviceable presentation that has surfaced here and one to predominantly lift far beyond the footlights to very rear ceiling of the house, filling all in in-between.

BBC: BBC SO, Ilan Volkov. Nicolas Hodges. Exposition balancing heroic and abstract ideals. Clarke Untitled 2. Beethoven Third. 29.04.11

2011-05-06T02:11:00.000-07:00

Balance between attaining heroism with abstraction eloquently informed thirty-four year old conductor Ilan Volkov – recently music director of the BBC Scottish SO – making guest appearance with the more prestigious BBC Symphony Orchestra of London. He scored a triumph, doing so. Both ideals explored found blithe consummation in a deceptively light, but fully absorbing, vigorous rendition of Beethoven’s Third Symphony.

Near same time as his only piano and violin concerti got written arrived Benjamin Britten’s tribute - 'Ballad of Heroes' set to W.H. Auden text - to the anti-fascist heroes of the Spanish Civil War. Auden ventured to Spain himself to offer his help, eventually helping inspire Britten to write this piece. Layout is similar to the maturely realized Sinfonia da Requiem, both opening with a dirge, continuing with danse macabre, and closing with chorale of sorts – finale to ‘Ballad of Heroes’ limned by lengthy melisma enhanced tenor solo looking ahead over two decades to his ‘War Requiem.’

Volkov found more interesting to bring to the forefront than how Britten’s scoring accommodates British choral tradition. Beat seemed slightly unclear for trumpet fanfares emerging - as though from the mist - starting this - more wonky had they played at a well demarcated mezzo-forte. Volkov had line fill out gradually, in place of broadly stating what was facing him instead. Approach of establishing choral parts obbligato to the orchestral line was such, as from which the sung text emerged refined with fully achieved profile – better than the expected norm. Volkov brought out harp gilding of still full sonorities achieved here to just partially relieve the austerity of opening dirge.

Rhythm for Scherzo was bracing, calibrated through Shostakovich like cascade of chromatically descending flute trio, rustle in bassoons – then arch to choral writing fully anticipating ‘Look, the storm come – Now the floodtide and seahorses’ Balstrode starts during Act One of Peter Grimes. Volkov’s excellent proportioning guaranteed throbbing middle section, with violins’ fully anguished descant, its fine profile intact. Tenor Toby Spence eschewed gilding his lines during the finale, eloquently appreciating with firm line the simplicity of how text and music merge, making any belabored affectation obtrusive by comparison. Choral work was very fine.

James Clarke’s Untitled No. 2 formed dark oasis between comparatively simplistic Britten and the ‘Eroica.’ It seemed to ask most of all what defines music. Inspiration derives from equally non-specific titled abstract expressionist works by Clifford Still - museum dedicated to his memory having recently opened in Denver, Colorado. Comparable to Still’s intent is that this music not be illustrative, pictorial, representational in any way – also forfeiting suggestion this could be a concerto.

In terms of exploring resonances, overtones as sustained, manipulated, extended out thereof Wolfgang Rihm’s music also comes to mind toward redefining tonality or tonal specificity as devoid of traditional meaning – all as reckoned for how sonorities, including how those of single pitches will get articulated. Feldman, in opus like Music for Violin and Orchestra, makes his bias just a manipulation of sound, as perhaps just evoking Nature completely abstractly, putting aside all suggestion of tonality, but free too from the strict ordering of Schoenberg and Webern.

Untitled #2 implies some ensuing agon, but avoids it occurring between soloist and orchestra – having it between chords, contrasting aggregates instead. Influence of Morton Feldman on this enterprise is certainly plausible. Clarke, interviewed, suggested thinking about this music as one might rock strata. Episodes during which most all motion, sense of where things may go becomes very static – opportunity for chords, resonances to grind against each other - at layer seemingly beneath this music’s surface – to suggest much depth. Brass slowly shifting between highly attenuated eleventh chords - decorated by quasi-(igneous) percolation of single pitches widely distributed about – grandiosely displayed how static this music can become.

Development, illusion thereof of coalescing buildup of sonorities may loan out hunch that relative stasis to ensue for a good six minutes ending soon before halfway through this 25 minute work might also be illusory. Given how elusive this music seems, certainly also hope for anything representational to emerge, one must choose one’s words carefully toward describing this. Ability to carry on logically though is good, not to make circular logic out of all this - as might the neurotic captain from Buchner’s Woyzeck.

Placement of major seventh chords perfect intervals and semitones apart - how much of Untitled #2 is mapped out - clearly reveals that by no means has order, regarding compositional processes got abandoned here. Likewise this music, as frequently focused, transfixed at times on resonances - reflection and refraction alternating between them - contains some linear aspects, even suggested lyricism by such means. A most elaborate moment or event occurs during introduction to the soloist’s centrally located accompanied cadenza, with brass having set up decent minor ninth pedal point on E and F natural out of which is built tonal environment suggesting E Minor (with major seventh of G-F# layered above). Steeply arched upward leaps from soloist’s right hand then emerge – perhaps with nothing moving in any specific direction, but all suggestive of linear activity possibly internally being integral to all at stake.

Soloist Nicolas Hodges – heard for Elliott Carter together with Volkov at the 2008 Proms - commented that there exist virtuoso things that occur in this piece; his mastery of such was imaginatively complete. Compelling here was mention of passages in which the orchestra can be fearsomely loud to cover up the soloist, value predominantly being what resonance might linger on, once the orchestra has cut off, more than anything (overtly) powerful or virtuosic. The very opening of this work immediately provided deep sense of how ingrained together the orchestral and soloist parts in this piece should be; initial orchestral sonorities organically form out of soloist arpeggios, intentionally so.

Intermittently developing moments of relaxation from predominant oppressive air provided welcome relief, such as right before midway through, a freely moving exchange of sonorities between soloist and strings, brass both anchoring and continuing motion through elaborate disjunctive lines, to comment perhaps on tension or stress still dissembling. Arabesque, as intimated by opening soloist arpeggios also provided fine elaboration on sonorities, wide range thereof and overtones to fully register or suggest.

Impetus Ilan Volkov supplied – going so far as to voice out numerous resonances toward elaborately revealing developed overtones - seemed mostly lyrical, understating orchestra going full out – for instance right up to cut offs from which lingering keyboard resonances distinctively emerge. Within deeper overlapping of hinted, developing motif through stream of harmonic dissonance infusing coda to this piece, light perhaps appeared to issue forth. Much psychologically engrossed density could then more convincingly, freely dissemble. Dedication, focus, invested therein from soloist and orchestral forces alike helped poetically, comprehensively lay out picture in abstract lines and sonorities. All sounded complete, yet supple, plastic. Dip(s) into tonal recesses deep below constant at almost all times, mercurial space above unfurled effortlessly before all.

Out of elaborate runs and figuration emerged good stretto between upper, lower brass and piano aggregating into well sustained pedal in the strings. Pulsation extending out of ringing dissonant chord to follow extended into sustaining stream of dissonance in the strings, portion thereof playing in harmonics. Illusion that some of the writing toward the end could be vocalized became enhanced by interjected recitative for piano, framing thoroughly pervasive shimmer to carry all beyond minimally perceptible horizons.

Human dimensions invoked by quasi-vocalized qualities to finish the Clarke Volkov dragged kicking and screaming back in to render very satisfactorily the Beethoven Third Symphony – more tentatively encountered on one outing by the BBC Scottish before. Spring to opening chords, bracing pace to follow, on merits of Beethoven’s music alone, putting aside excessive ‘period’ tendencies or ‘period chic’ with which to clutter things up, sounded immediately ready to challenge anything obstructing their way, wrest all free from court (and modern) conventionalities. Lean textures generally prevailed, but integrated with full sense of voice-leading, presence of overtones from the big bad Romantic past. Purpose in how Volkov elucidated form and expression, in place of acting beholden to anything else, was abundantly clear throughout.

Sinuous, flowing line coursed unimpeded through opening tutti of the first movement, space supplied to gently mark laendler accenting during second theme, elsewhere and also to designate wistful, momentary rumination upon where the argument has taken us thus far. Such fully prepared terracing, grand scaling thereof into closing section of alternatively cleanly robust and supple shaping of all its lines.

Good sonorous bedrock underpinned start to the Development, saving cellos on forebodingly restated first theme from coming across too lean. Internal complexity through cross motion between first theme in lower strings and downward figuration above got reckoned with full ear for harmonic change through fully, but lightly engaged sturm und drang. Bucolic accenting thus became available in full, especially through insistently interjecting violas – without loss of perspective. Keeping all breathing flexibly in interest of sustaining line optimally well, a little flaccidity threatened to creep in at outset of dissonant stretto to prepare, contrast with more feminine accented re-transition to follow. Volkov however tightened his grip on proceedings through the stretto before too late – notion being to keep things again within human dimensions as opposed to attempting blowing things up to metaphysical proportions.

Sturm und drang continued to course through first theme re-transition, all tensions remaining febrile, rife through all contrasts, buildup, plus regretful tone from retreating woodwinds to prepare flexibly molded recapitulatory statement. Through harmonic transitions, quality of the music-making turned intermittently weightless, but with deeply infused lyricism making all still more specifically profiled, felt than during the Exposition. BBC principal trumpet very briefly broke the spell by overplaying right before the coda, subtonic (D-Flat Major) opening of which Volkov made emerge very rich, as opposed to conventionally docking it. All emerged vernal and fresh through final sublime reprise of ‘inversion theme’ toward lovely legato French horns’ buildup to a very fulfilling close.

Taken at very moderate pace, highly attentive proportioning maintained solemnity of the Marcia funebre – all just slightly comparable to how one often finds Allegretto of the Seventh interpreted. Winds infused restated first theme, following lean stoically profiled strings for the latter, with optimum cantabile. Unison lines in cellos preparing first theme subdominant restatement sounded at once lean and darkly expressive. Stark profile well maintained throughout, a little incipient weeping crept into oboe restating the same – most sublime. Maggiore interlude opened lean, rugged - for contrast very supple open-air infusion of what develops therein, principal trumpet this time spot-on in preparing last rolling cadence to wrap it up. Fugue emerged lean on surface, fully weighted beneath.

Fully Italianate cantabile descant from BBC violins - all rock-solid beneath – alone completely filled out dimensions of approaching crest to the fugue. Simplicity reigned unimpeded into the recapitulation, all then fully sung, starkly proportioned. Volkov filled out trailing off lines, harmonization through the coda very expressively – one slightly imprecise cut-off tiny price to pay for fully vocalized appoggiatura from the winds. Closing lingering off cadence in winds off distraught, fading away strings, without conventional Romantic docking, was sublime, even recalling example of Karel Ancerl.

Headlong rustle with subtly worked therein lightly pointed harmonic shifts strongly characterized an uninhibitedly joyous romp through the scherzo. Tutti immediately upon arrival gave off full rustic frolic. Trio, started by French horns, got off to a hearty start, with fine yielding on lingering phrases extending out.

Finale, strings racing down, began dangerously fast, but clean, infused with the simple joy of taking it on, in place of grand-standing. Variations spinning out from skeleton of a theme got breezily paced, achieving cumulation through opening out of the ‘Prometheus’ theme lithe as is its wont. At continuing bracing pace, fugato to follow maintained internal terraced voicing with excellent finesse; cadenza-like principal flute solo spoke lightly, rapidly - fine space provided him. ‘Country dance’ very joyously to follow hardly could have been better, more freely accented. After sobering ‘Prometheus’ reprise, second fugato emerged supple, precisely calibrated its voicing, through unusually pointed out intro theme descant in violins to fully prepare the brass getting the same – incredible to behold. Lacking such preparation, this passage often comes across detached.

The Andante epitomized nobility sublime, forefront clarinet accompanying concertato in the winds fully enhancing its rusticity followed by strings eschewing common working of violins descending into brass ‘Prometheus’ theme. Segue into anguished violins’ crest to line was followed by antiphonal muttering in strings and winds suffused, distraught, but light. Brass, while restating central ‘Prometheus’ idea here achieved doing so completely, stopping far short of portentousness. It was, as prefaced by simply forward thrust on the symphony’s opening two chords, to singularly depict the heroism of the common man. Open swagger through presto coda, full of life as was the rest of the finale to risk Volkov being again mistaken for Ancerl, simply expressed the joy of being alive.

For ‘Eroica’, without first-movement repeat, lasting forty-four minutes, profundity, proper weight to formally, aesthetically articulate such hardly ever got missed. No other name comes to mind, among thirty-something’s or younger for what could as clearly promise to be a great interpretation of this work.

DR Kultur: AB neo-expressionismus zyklus III. Bernd Alois Zimmermann. Bruckner 9. DSO Berlin. Kent Nagano. Matthias Goerne. Philharmonie. 23.04.11.

2011-04-29T01:48:00.000-07:00

Here was a program closing series of three, each featuring a mature Bruckner symphony paired alongside work(s) by (near-) contemporary composers, likely, even if obliquely commenting upon each. Architectonics of sound and light, between two works by Jorg Widmann and Bruckner Five provided first program its unifying idea. Here likely it was the absence of light - in pairing two overtly spiritually and definitively pessimistic works. Perhaps in the progressivism of each can be found some glimmer of hope, even within pervasive gloom of Zimmermann’s ‘ecclesiastical action.’ “ich wandte mich.”

Bernd Alois Zimmermann’s swansong, ‘ecclesiastical action’ programmed here, is based on very insightfully interspersed verses, passages from Book of Ecclesiastes and ‘Grand Inquisitor’ scenes in Dostoevskii’s Brothers Karamazov. ECM liner notes trace model for Zimmermann’s inspiration at least histrionically back to the action sacre’s of four centuries ago – unique cross between oratorio and almost opera they are. ‘Hope in a life worth living’ had all but altogether disappeared for Zimmermann, undercut by illness at little over fifty years old, that even in the dark world he reckoned, he had his other works express. Aspiration toward such is even difficult to find here. Taking on the surface what this music expresses, represents, as openly elaborated on Heinz Holliger’s fine recording, there is no hope.

During moments of larger or full ensemble ritornello in ‘Ich wandte mich’, one finds continuing a practically baroque application of serialism in much elaboration that fully characterizes Die Soldaten. Anything from slow allargando polyphony to sudden, as though igneous eruptions of intermittent rapid stretti still surfaces well – but as though perhaps from activity more than half of such submerged, relegated to a crypt. Emulation in serial language of Gabrieli derivative intradas - just several times relegated to brass alone – Nagano with fine sense of proportions well revealed their providing eloquent framing Atmosphere of minimalistic expressionism is pervasive, such as infuses late Nono and some of Wolfgang Rihm’s compositions; a sensitive ear gets beckoned to pick up through overtones intimation of melodic, harmonic progressions left merely implicit.

For setting of text stressing a continuing or relentless strife between oppression and liberation, between life and death, Kent Nagano seemed most interested here in what makes ‘Ich wandte mich’, according to Zimmermann’s forbears, twentieth century music. Nagano’s pace through this was quite breezy overall. Long sustained notes, pedals extending out, thus leading the ear to sense of conventional harmonic moorings still in play, did not receive underlining here they do under Holliger (ECM), even with what stark dissonances emerge from them. One sensed here a streaming motion, even through thinly scored passages, their often pinprick articulated, demarcated spacing. Vast space indicated here almost rivals scoring inherent to Luigi Nono’s Prometeo

Matthias Goerne proved the lyrical soloist for Kent Nagano, filling out his lines with fine expressive import, plus melisma and other mannerist articulation of his stark lines with fluidity, firmness, and internalized emotional engagement. (Andreas Schmidt, of naturally lower tessitura than Goerne, proved the darker timbre and the more histrionic, more stretched soloist for Holliger – in employing more conventional tempos and profile than has Nagano). Nagano’s two speakers (Ulrich Matthes, Thomas Thieme) and instrumental soloists within DSO Berlin fit deftly into Nagano’s more abstracted perspective on this work – dryly certainly as compared with more evocative representation Holliger and his team provide. Obbligato for electric guitar, stripped just partly from vernacular associations one makes, is very striking - hardly less that for double-bass.

Zimmermann’s merging of his highly developed serialism with the vernacular does not more acutely emerge than it does here. Sounds of softly rattling maracas, cowbells, antique cymbals, such to perhaps almost get lost in the Philharmonie’s diffuse acoustic got sensitively handled here. Nagano, favored leaving much, not quite all manner of expressive or histrionic device to one’s imagination. Sense of running contest under way between the two speaking roles for audible, perhaps philosophical supremacy came across here somewhat reticent or removed.

Word painting - impetus behind it understated here - such as duet of trombones (then mimicked by piccolos) accompanying ‘Ich sah an Arbeit’ – expressing futility of two accomplished masters envying the fruit of each other’s labors - over pounding bass drum, further illustrates the frequently utter grimness of this work. Concertato of trio of piccolos, pizzicato in cellos and melisma infused vocal writing hints at scoring tendencies common to the music of Gyorgy Ligeti. That all eventually sinks a good ways into adopting a meditative, reflective stance reveals Nagano, still unflinching before what violence occurs here, to be not far off the mark in subtly enveloping, shrouding good portions of this work in an air of abstraction. Heratic sense of where overtones lie, associations through recall of particular motivic activity, enveloping, framing provided by such Nagano subjugated to taking secondary role to the most progressive tendencies this music offers toward seeing beyond – also beyond some of the despair, gloom, despondency of Zimmermann’s vision here.

One could vaguely pick up perhaps a mystical grasp of how encountering such a work thus may offer way of being able to linger on a while. Nagano’s handling of fine brass chorale quote of Es ist genug, and jolting crunch with which Zimmermann truncates it came across forcefully, to decisively bring ‘action sacre’ to its conclusion. As observed as from a distance, blunt force characterizing Zimmermann’s vision, its rigor, terseness, at times fraught animation got appropriated more fluidly, streamlined than may be the norm, but within perspective of where this still oft neglected composer may fit within pantheon of the past century’s greats.

Kent Nagano then fully eschewed emotionalizing the Bruckner Ninth Symphony, opting to delve deeper instead. Outer movements got taken broadly - while acutely reckoning formal constraints at every turn. With tendency to keep distant full emotional involvement with content of the Fifth and Seventh symphonies, the probing character of this Ninth was remarkable - full simplicity achieved very impressive. Recently again during the Fifth and Seventh, emphasis for strings to project their sound with as much of their articulation possible or feasible became somewhat paramount throughout. One would normally expect Nagano drawn to forward-looking aspects of the Ninth. In no way then could anyone have felt disappointed.

For Nagano, it was in getting all harmony, voicing clearly spelled out, implications involved that impetus toward propulsive motion for argument throughout this piece got somewhat undercut - never beyond necessity to maintain good line and define well all contrasting episodes All emerged here very cogent and focused. Interesting to look back, because with forward moving impetus compelling Oswald Kabasta’s classic Munich Philharmonic account along, the modernism of all the dissonances in that Ninth as encountered therein, are also stark.

Nagano favored reasonably lean sonorities with which to approach the Ninth – also characteristic good freedom to freely contract and tighten overall sonic picture facing him. Nothing ever sounded denatured from what best characterizes this music, i.e. perhaps anticipating things becoming too detached instead. Equally fortunate, one sought in vain heavy or special underlining of any full scoring for the strings – or for that matter swooning over to death what sonorities can emerge just for their sake alone. Broad tempos combined with emotional stoicism framing everything, optimum flexibility with shaping the coursing line throughout became also highly notable.

Second theme, placed higher as recapitulated especially, got captured very knowingly, its sensuality emerging in full by being simply drawn out of well varied voicing and harmonic shifts through it and underneath. The same quality of workmanship provided third theme group unencumbered, naturally supple flow throughout. Nagano, making mild subito piu mosso out of switch to Moderato for the third theme group, obviated both its almost aimlessly wandering character followed by decisive character of how it develops - especially during well extended later reprise. Minor tendency to insert half to one second pauses to better demarcate episodes from each other during this first movement, proved very apt, very seldom self-conscious.

Broadly paced grasp of mystery opening the first movement through elementally, organically striving buildup through stoically enunciated fortissimo statement of the first theme beautifully laid groundwork for all to follow. What proved virtuous from Nagano in the Adagio closing the Ninth got anticipated by a very restful, meditative lingering over transitions between theme groups. Varied approaches to making incompletely fulfilling restatements of brass chorale motif from the Introduction, detachment toward making it to goal made (proto-existentialist) doubt expressed therein eloquent.

Even at broad pacing to all of this through for instance descending march of pizzicato in the strings, goal of achieving firm restatement of the first theme remained clear. For it, Nagano imposed a curious subito piu mosso as in effect to send all flowing through it. Tentatively starting buildup to auspicious climax in F Minor and achieving it may have frustrated a few wanting it milked for all its worth. More vulgar is to have the trumpets resoundingly on their jagged dotted rhythms make something Bruckner-star Galactica out of this passage; fortunately that did not happen here. Climax before coda was febrile in its intensity, wringing last drop of waning vitality out of it all, preceding wearily, stoically despondent brass chorale anticipation of very broadly paced coda rounding all out with compelling power and intensity.

Demonic quality of the scherzo became suggested as opposed to overstated - clearly lurking beneath it all through an internalized violence (pressed a little harder the second time through it) of achieving the minor dominant halfway through outer sections.. The lousy overstating of accelerando, worst on Karajan’s late 1970’s recording of this, mercifully got thrown out. Incisively playful interaction through ret-transition preceding through it Nagano beautifully clarified – in manner one would normally associate with Bernard Haitink’s Bruckner interpretations – also the bucolic lift informing the ferocity of this scherzo – yet without undermining it. The trio section with incisively achieved skip through its opening plus slight lift from behind for sighing consequents (and without rushing one bit principal flautist Thomas Hecker) got excellently characterized here. Mystery with restarting piquantly opening Scherzo was memorable – then extra heft through a hell-bent emphasis on upbeats bringing the Scherzo to an incisive conclusion.

The quasi-Klemperer like stoicism, broad pacing informing the first movement paid off equally compelling dividends for the Adagio A performance of this of more noble poise, well achieved outline than this from anybody today would be difficult to imagine. Stoic anguish expressed took on Amfortas like proportions, but with transfigured light glimmering throughout - auspiciously through clearly voiced dissonant climax toward the end, equally febrile invoking terror - letting unforced strings resound above the brass with very compelling clarity and intensity.

Space allowed for lingered over consequents in solo oboe and horn and for once over clearly enunciated comments in double-basses - all connected – characterized, succinctly shaped, the broad introduction to the Adagio. Slightly tentative opening to second theme each time proved lone distraction, perhaps welcome, from the deep underlying and often quiet intensity to this Adagio.

Full concise shaping of the B Minor agitated inversion of the Adagio’s opening theme framed intense, long trailing off thereof in high winds basking off glimmering light ascetically far across the horizon – how effortlessly all could turn sublime here at achieving ideal simplicity of expression – equally remindful of much excellent work Nagano achieved while in charge in advent of succession by Ingo Metzmacher. Long breathed anguished ascent off mid-phrase re-entering first subject past halfway through this Adagio, as to not quite deny brass interjections good space, leading up to fully harmonized sigh of descending chorale in the strings, was also notable. Achievement of such moment of repose turned out all unaffected, sublime. Break off of winds on clearly detached hollow major seconds from exchange of introductory minor-ninth opening motif between strings was very exact – and harrowing.

Intensity, lightly achieved, reaching far, to open the coda was thrilling. Coming off perhaps the very last crescendo in starting extended preparation for quoting the opening of the Bruckner Seventh closing the Ninth momentarily became slightly jittery, but as though to remind all of the utter humanity of such endeavor. With all taken very slowly entire way through horns’ ascending phrase, sense of motion still being alive, coursing throughout emerged through very nobly limned conclusion to this.

As even modernist an approach Nagano’s is, it made the often quite fine Rattle interpretation heard recently in London seem, by comparison, to linger on the surface. Rattle’s interpretation of the Ninth, in even perhaps helping expose its weaknesses, and fractured psychological state of its composer, along similar lines of how Robert Simpson has criticized this work, might seem now almost cheaply deconstructionist in perspective. The feeling of all being at peace at the close of the Nagano was achieved by accepting Bruckner as is, through beautiful preparation - by the most highly organic, unforced means. Opportunity to make chamber music out of many lyrical, transitional passages of the Sixth – hardly ever self-conscious – as played at the Proms six years back – typified this effort as well.. This Ninth proved fine testament to the resiliency of the human spirit while facing immediate prospect of life ebbing away.

BBC: Royal Opera McVicar Aida - serious casting, podium upgrade from last season provides fine musico-dramatic focus. Fabio Luisi.

2011-04-25T06:25:00.000-07:00

It turned out well for David McVicar’s production, new last season, of Verdi’s Aida to have received a second chance at Royal Opera, given how strapped it got with musically disastrous results last season. BBC annotation then more emphasized a kind of generalized smorgasbord of costuming styles, generations from ancient past to modern, something to please everybody, being thrust upon Convent Garden stage. This year their sound bite leaned much more on the garish, even graphic violence to depict of an at best vaguely located totalitarian war-mongering state – equally de-Egyptologized – no elephants, no pyramids – as how things appeared last year. Figures to represent shriveling up, rotting away corpses off the field of battle hung off meat hooks above Amneris’s richly marble enhanced boudoir.

More assured, confident to conduct this performance was Fabio Luisi. Most likely helpful too was the cancellation of Micaela Carosi - given how inadequate last year she proved for the title role – thereby Ukranian soprano Liudmyla Monastyrska made her Convent Garden debut. Dramatically, she provided cogent, well considered understanding of much at stake. Vulnerability of Aida’s plight, naivete with Amneris, toughness under stress, subtly and directly manipulative way of compromising Radames all evidenced themselves.

Good line, legato, coloration of the above adequately carried forth, albeit compromised by occasional cloudy tone, soggy diction, bluster toward pushing up the sound, artificially darkening it thereby; thickness around the break made this at times a real issue. Of concern also was tentative stab to get more lyrical acuti to float, sound less obviously detached, and thereby to keep intonation stable. For heroic utterances, such as closing Act Two, she clearly made herself heard, even while flat, and through Nile duet with Amonasro as well. Flexibility to lighten voice during ‘O patria mia’ and through much of ‘Fuggiam inospiti’’ later along the Nile was lovely. Grasp of how to float her sound waited several lines or so however to establish itself during tomb scene with Radames.
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Roberto Alagna, largely assisted by deft, sensitive accompaniment from Fabio Luisi, revealed a more probing look at Radames through tendency to scale voice back and more subtly negotiated demands it makes than evident at La Scala several years ago – subject of the Roberto Alagna Milan Walkout, it turned out once. His sound was drier at Convent Garden than in Milan, but with considerably less of a constantly pushed up, projected quality than under a concise, more forthright Riccardo Chailly.

Some strain through ‘Celeste Aida’ was again apparent, its tessitura precariously centered around the break - as has occurred many times. Alagna still provided the smarts to define character – mix of sense of wonder and naivete innate to a good Radames – if all slightly weak at filling out heroic dimensions also characterizing the Egyptian captain. ‘Nel fiero anelito’ upon greeting Aida along the Nile Alagna provided good ring and purpose – and then shaded nuance his puzzlement at Aida’s imploring him to join her in fleeing south. Fabio Luisi proved his attentive best at not allowing Alagna to get precariously stuck for long on spinto required acuti to follow. (Radames murdering two guards during futile attempt at escape from the priests seems both indulgent, out of character). Despondency during scene with Amneris, despair with which to open the Tomb Scene and melos in head voice for final duet therein with Aida both got securely achieved. If not quite renascence of Carlo Bergonzi at lyrically essaying Radames, Alagna revealed an extra helping of nuance – beyond what may have in the Italianate repertoire been often likely during much of his past.

Olga Borodina was the regal, imposing Amneris. With years of experience at it, in fine voice sheobviated well the psychological complexity of the princess – also complexity of means by which Amneris gets her way, attempts doing so. With age, slight loss of certainty has crept in, in terms of keeping solid low notes, evenness between registers, but once past trio in Act One,, such uncertainty seemed to evaporate. Particularly moving during Act Four, an Amenris full of desperation and regret, Borodina overall made Amneris more the woman than avenging angel – stock interpretation that comes from singing the big Verdi leads three-fourths of the time. More than cantabile, melos for opening lines of Acts Two and Three, Borodina came across fully convincing as woman fully infatuated with Radames, then deeply uncomprehending of her passion going unrequited. Her feigning of concern even for Aida during Act Two, expression of empathy overall, was so good, it is still hard to believe it had not been real, albeit her ‘Trema, o schiava’s – as forceful, implacable as the best around - Borodina still insurpassable an Amneris.

Although without quite the natural bite in diction of an Italian baritone singing Verdi, Michael Volle made, secure across the range, ideal casting as Amonasro. Guelfi, Vratogna, heard at the Met, Convent Garden, Munich, La Scala, other places lack sufficient tone for ability to sustain it. Evenness of tone, assurance this way, by comparison, was here in spades. Along with fully humanizing the part, Amonasro’s plight, Volle frequently incisive with text whether using full voice or sotto voce, became all-encompassing. Volle’s catching the very circumspect and equally subtle conniving qualities of the beleagured king was all spot-on. The twenty minutes in which Amonasro must dramatically make an impression were such upon which Volle capitalized in full.

Not quite evil black ball of sound I found - as described to me by long time friend of mine who actually saw Kowaljow in London during the same run sing this. A relatively lean, still dark toned Vitalij Kowaljow, baritonal on top, mostly made convincing the both overtly firm and implacable aspects of high priest Ramfis. In providing solidity at bottom to cast overall, Kowaljow hardly ever came up short. Grasp of the solemnity of priestly character, simplicity of addressing Radames at trial directly both brought out the visionary reach typical of any good Ramfis - though vision being toxic - necessary to avoid resorting to stock villainy. Brindley Sherratt was tonally lean, all business as King of Egypt, imparting through ‘Su del Nilo’ sense of outrage out of supposedly being forced into (new) campaign against the Ethiopians. The smoky sensuous toned Preistess of Madeleine Pierard sounded probably soon worthy of larger assignments.

Several contemporary productions of Aida, probably good handful by now, offer setting generic as to specific time or location, or in case of Chris Alden’s in Berlin, updating and bringing action close to home altogether. Along with this arrives a new musical sensitivity - working toward eschewing making any characteristic pointing to much anything religious, political, social too specific. Repartee on replayed episode of PBS syndicated drama New Tricks however got me wondering about the good old legendary ancient Egyptians. From momentarily a much peeved ever headstrong Sandra Pullman to one of her detective co-workers - I paraphrase – ‘Say that again (and) I will make myself earrings out of your testicles.’ Ouch! McVicar already has accomplished near as much, as to how to suggest ancient Egypt - thus maybe not so good to provide him any further ideas.

Fabio Luisi opted for approach predominantly flowing, lyrical, mildly Teutonic in specificity over how to weigh, voice especially choral and brass sonorities. Having said that, Luisi steered mostly clear of replacing supportive line in the orchestral part with amorphous profile thereof, into which his singers should blend – as frequently occurred under Luisotti last year. Limning of string, then string-accompanied lines for flute made limpid magic out of preludes to both odd-numbered acts. Stark simplicity in building both Brahmsian stretti during Act One prelude was also insightful, as was measured pacing, attentive to getting rhythm precisely right and rests within line their full value to frame opening of the Tomb scene, infused throughout with limpid support for the condemned lovers, supple calibration of all else. Passages for brass, timpani, especially referring to priests, their asceticism Luisi replaced coming across (potentially) loudly violent or aggressive with bringing out dry sonorities strongly implied instead.

Attention to overall line and also dramatic interaction between singers, especially during the Nile Scene and last act – also during audience between Aida and Amneris and ‘Ma tu, Re’ during Act Two - was apt, mostly concise. Positive qualities to the scrupulous leadership from the pit also became evident throughout the rest, but most of the way until the opera’s second half, one had perhaps to grope around for being able to perceive any really specific point of view about Verdi’s Aida overall. This included streamlining of more forceful cabalettas - toward end of the Nile Scene and then during Act Four between Radames and Amneris. Alongside incisively minute attentiveness of Luisi to singers’ needs, while facing numerous potentially precarious moments, came some fussiness, thereby intermittently flaccidity as well, notably during the Triumphal Scene and for dances during earlier scenes.

Through the graphic violence of the staging, one could grasp issue of how any ‘lower depths’ regardless of time, ethnicity, nationality can get ‘marginated’ – word I learned this evening from repeat of PBS interview of Helen Prejean. I think word Sister Prejean wanted instead was ‘marginalized’ – during anecdotally wise citing of having temporarily resided in notorious St Thomas projects in New Orleans – concerning residents’ overall plight there. Or perhaps the word she intended might have been ‘margarinated;’ handful or two of mostly guys (Baker 13) at one fairly elite varsity, ‘Harvard of the South’ nearby opts for shaving cream instead.

Nevertheless good sense of purpose, resolve in mind here got Aida performed responsibly well, at last bringing dignity to bear upon David McVicar’s still relatively new production.

BBC: BBC NOW, Thierry Fischer. Stunning realization of Berlioz Romeo et Juliette (complete). Cardiff, Wales. 15.4.11.

2011-04-21T08:12:00.000-07:00

Whenever the occasion arises Thierry Fischer conducts something major Berlioz, this performance of Romeo et Juliette further proved all should get put aside to attend or hear such an event. He borrows from the ‘period’ movement somewhat in how to conceptualize how Berlioz should sound to modern ears, but less as a musicologist, ideologue than the unusually insightful flautist he has been – under Abbado and Harnoncourt (with Chamber Orchestra of Europe). The results reflect subservience of what we know about playing nineteenth century music ‘period’ – on modern instruments here – to music composed instead of vice versa.

Nothing Berlioz composed better explains how genuine the working out, attainment of his goals than his ‘dramatic symphony, Romeo et Juliette. Fischer, while at helm of the BBC National Wales has prudently waited until after programming several other major works, notably the less evenly inspired Damnation de Faust (for which he had better vocal soloists than for this). Berlioz, with Romeo et Juliette – inspired by insatiable infatuation for Harriet Smithson – ratcheted up what expectations he had for performing this from how he composed Symphonie fantastique not long before.

Among settings of Shakespeare’s tragedy to music, including Gounod opera inspired by this, this instead of being conventional setting of synopsis to music is transformation of sorts instead. The premise for their being purely orchestral movements enclosed within external frame of this work is highly unusual. They exist to suggest a level of expression that words, in breaking off, fail to express, even perhaps still as set to music - why performances of just the orchestral movements fail to satisfy. Truncation away from what – even in a rarefied way – prepares the listener for hearing all of this music, combining chanson, orchestral form, chorally accompanied cortege, purely scenic music, and finally cantata never seems quite right. Calling this the greatest genius in having set Romeo and Juliet to music understates the case.

Keen anticipatory sense informed dueling fugato opening the Introduction with violas and cellos chomping at the bit - keeping all incisive and firm at once. Spring to the rhythms more than how hard Fischer’s musicians can dig in became paramount – with paprika from woodwinds stirring up agitation from within. Brass triplets accompanied marcia, at cut time, elicited fine swagger, while firming up all about. Lean brass nobly profiledthe Duke’s edicts – strings daringly very light with broken ‘fight’ music beneath. Anticipatory sense through simple textual pointing replaced going at choral prologue ‘church style.’ Susan Bickley, lightly intoning her distraught lines expressively, matched choral work well. Brief interlude previewing the Capulets’ ball was well animated with BBC NOW winds slightly lengthening out their staccati. Inhalation, exhalation informing choral lines opening with ‘Helas’ conveyed the mystery of Berlioz’s writing, with meaningfully ‘scene d’amour’ preview natural outgrowth of all having preceded.

Much febrile wistfulness informed sighing violins opening ‘Romeo seul.’ Winds next sighing cantilena refrain on simple four note figure – limned by fine violins’ obbligato, helped complete the picture. Rustling preview of ball scene neatly limned continuing spinning out in oboe of cantilena above – ending with suggestion of ‘Scene aux champs’ from ‘fantastique’ well delineated here. Precisely terraced forth party music helped bring all out in the open, for dizzying vortex encircling bacchanalian main idea taking center stage, suffusing every level. Incidence of intrusive dissonant explosions always clearly emerged without blocking surge forward. Razor sharp incisive engagement while keeping all light left developing energy through all this left in check. Formidable chorale in unison brass took forefront over continual repeat of revelry theme, just having passed through upper woodwinds lightening it over deft pizzicato. Muffled rumination in bassoons, lower strings under momentarily deeply subdued wild revelry prepared final lift of blazing intensity to playing, scenography represented thereof.

Besotted post tonal haze engulfed all air about – strings marked double pianissimo to segue in ‘Scene d’amour’, trailed by more alert remaining allotment of carousing revelers well off in the distance. Berlioz had already written his choral bacchanale in Benevenuto Cellini (popularly known from the ‘Roman Carnival’ Overture). Imagine how well less of an impression he may have made had he included choral parts for wild party at the Capulets. Berlioz perhaps improved a little upon Shakespeare here without such.

Wafting in with ease then emerged ‘Scene d’amour.’ Distraction comes to mind of the inane ‘shadow play’ of previous action in the Ring at the Met to pictorialize narration by Siegmund and Wotan - Wagner, in need of props, in other words. Narrative sense combined with never layered on, but fully suggested eroticism provided complete picture with all color to infuse it, including very light murmur filigree in violins placed far back. Lift over crest or refrain to main subject happened with great ease, through achievement of full flush in C Major (minor key mediant). Short figures then intimated Juliet’s deferring reply to Romeo’s impassioned entreaties. Anguish in violins’ suspension laden ascending line gradually intensified. Affectation of ‘period’ throughout Scene d’amour, while played on modern instruments and without handicapping feeling this music should evoke was most, instead of least effective here; one would not need any props to be able to visualize picture in mind. Regret, desire for all to linger on beyond indefinitely acutely highlighted all expressivity during what followed.. Fischer informed the self-transformative character of material on display here, what made it ‘new music’ the time it was written, with plethora of detail micro-managed deep from within this music’s fabric, for it to all speak eloquently on its own.

An almost Webern-esque pointing of sonorities opening ‘Queen Mab’ Fischer handled just as such. Presto marking got understated, but much light pointing constantly shifting colors made all appear as though going by more quickly than it was. Middle section, mournfully intoned from winds beneath sustained pedal of harmonics in the violins was equally rapt – at tempo hardly slower than for outer sections – ‘Mab’ still lightly pulsating underneath. Descant chording in winds subtly obscured full resumption of ‘Mab’ followed by bright caccia horns’ episode moving toward sudden blaze in full brass – understated here – shock of making dissonance of common chord sufficiently compelling instead. Surrealistic lighting to infuse further caroling of ‘Mab’, decorated by harp and contra-bassoon, was very distinctive, then working way itoward slow drifting away into the mists of encroaching daylight. Jean-Paul Fouchecourt ideally made tripping arabesque out of Mab scherzetto ending Part One, with alternatively pointillistic diatonic and filled out chromatic sonorities behind him - toward very brief visited foreboding close to this interlude.

Into cortege opening Part Three, overall spell still carried over. Seldom a chorus on too often self-important repeated sustaining pedal of one pitch, sings softly enough to naturally place behind sinuous lines in strings and winds – toward having repeated pitch intertwined all within – but it happened here. By time choral and orchestral forces trade places, all usually has started sounding vaguely Brahmsian instead. Rapidly repeating E’s up higher, carrying drifting spectral line off well into the distance, at last avoided sounding merely silly.

Connecting line through ‘’Romeo au tombeau des Capulets’ was, comparable to during preceding cortege – again something to behold. Mystery engulfed low bass chords in very foreign keys, coming off ascending agitated sequence of tremoli led by the strings. English horn led lower winds dolefully lamented Invocation to follow with neither pause nor stylization, but with color between combined unison winds very rich. Through several acute final episodes, intensity of the playing, backed by security equalling that of any modern orchestra, was amazing. Fischer’s achievement of harmonic ear, way of providing illusion of sustaining overtones beyond dry grounding in groaning contra-basses far underneath, through broken wild interjections from especially the strings was practically surreal – for music seemingly impossible to ‘get right.’ Romeo’s invocation provided Fischer ideal sense of sustaining impetus throughout all this.

Until forthright benedictory ode to complete, frame both Part Three and symphony itself, Fischer in accompanying baritone Jonathan Lemalu (Frer Laurent), unstable vocally, became helpless in how to sustain any further musical interest, with Berlioz having left it to the soloist to do so here. This cantata, with its concluding ode, is musically the most conventional portion of this work. Fischer’s flowing and sinuous accompaniment for Susan Bickley through Strophes (Part One) was valuable in preparing what would follow. Encountering slight effort around the break, Bickley, vocally plain overall, was expressive, faithful to text, understanding well its meaning.

Among three Colin Davis recordings of Romeo et Juliette I have auditioned, the one with the Vienna Philharmonic, with fine soloists, has proven the best. I still have yet to try his first Philips recording. Furtive glance can be made back at comprehensive Berlioz legacy Davis has assembled, as to how he approached this music - and proto-period accents therein – before we had ‘period’ interpretation of music written (well) after 1800.

There is, apart from Les Troyens, no more a tour de force musically, aesthetically within the Berlioz canon than Romeo et Juliette. Berlioz had indeed reserved a most rarefied quality for achieving what opens out here. Thierry Fischer painstakingly revealed here how one can open out some truly incredible insights, toward making the radicalism of Berlioz’s vision seem entirely fresh. Fischer is acutely sensitive to Berlioz having drawn upon music, tradition of the past – especially Gluck, whose aesthetic invocation of antiquity spurred on Berlioz’s vision, radicalism thereof. Fischer’s grasp of the simplicity deeply ingrained within this sphere, as something inhabiting a different dimension than any ‘period’ practice can alone convey was very telling - Berlioz’s vision paramount, indisputably of sole importance – most sublimely effective with ‘Romeo et Juliette.'

Met on NPR: Levine valecditorily led Wozzeck. Unqualified triumph for Waltraud Meier (Marie). Mark Lamos production. James Levine. 16.4.11

2011-04-20T09:28:00.000-07:00

James Levine has since 1974 made Wozzeck, then several years later Lulu central staples of Met repertoire during his now very near forty years with the company. A certain amount of credit is due him for being, as many Met patrons estimate, a stirring advocate for Alban Berg’s two operas. His long familiarity with Wozzeck, played Saturday without a break, clearly evinced itself here. He dropped conducting Das Rheingold in its second run for the season and also second run of Il Trovatore (as presented at Met in HD) to guarantee himself this now likely valedictory opportunity to do Wozzeck at the Met.

Virtuosity of the Met orchestra for Wozzeck became, as expected, fully on display. Hardly anybody could have left disappointed, including with fine principal solos from viola, flute, contra-bassoon during this opera’s first scene alone. Much of their work fulfilled many, if not quite all of Alban Berg’s formal, expressive intentions. Lushness of realizing full expressive potential of the final scene of Act One got better realized this time than perhaps on two previous occasions. For Levine’s better, if still less than ideally integrating fanfare derived ‘lust’ motif introducing it into remainder of hothouse the scoring provides also on its own merits, the deeply interwoven motivic fabric infusing everything spoke forth more decisively. Contrasting with this, intricate pointing of detail, mostly to bring out character for instance of the individual dance movements of quasi-Baroque suite to which the opera’s opening scene is set was very attentive, incisive. Buildup of climax during ‘rhapsody’, scene among the brushes with Andres – with Wozzeck, literally on the verge, so to speak, achieved evocative realization

Levine, ever loyal accompanist to his singers, tended also to succumb here and there to restraining himself from tightening up musical and dramatic tension to where it might put one of his singers under additional strain, such as during brief epilogue for Marie to single encounter with Wozzeck during Act One, capped by her impassioned reprise of Wozzeck’s signatory ‘Wir arme leut.’

For Act Two, concentration for maintaining optimum grip on the inner workings of Berg’s scoring then seemed distracted. Key was impulsivity on Levine’s part to underline or enhance some extra certain key moments – such as his rushing exaggeratedly through brief stretto interlude between its first two scenes. Even with the bizarrely transitory quality of how much of the central Largo (Scene Three) of Act Two is written – and its episodic references back to both Drum Major sightings during Act One, this Largo contains much of its own material on its own merit. Principal cellist Rafael Figueroa’s vulgar rushing of his opening solo to this made segue into streamlining of much of the rest of this scene.

Proportions for the tavern, ‘grand opera’ scene emerged mostly intact, with fine Mahlerian lilt for its opening laendler. Concertato of brass framing ‘pitchless’ huntsmen’s choruses was excellent, until toward end of scene becoming too rushed. The best at grandiose gesture had to wait until interlude into the final barracks scene, starting off with choral snoring amongst the men clearly louder than marked. String section parody, gavotte style, of military piquancy got the point across, though all slightly worked, toward abetting clipped brass stretti to break out.

Waltraud Meier’s artistically superior command of Marie assisted bringing Levine, his shaping of things into intense focus, with fine lyricism, including well honed in tone painting to limn numerous things during first half of Act Three – such to never fully get restored again until orchestral epilogue to the opera. Crest to the big line building through this interlude formed in part by much reminiscence of earlier events was very fine. The two scenes prior to it got rushed - played mostly for melodramatic effect, through, frustrating, rushing through the swallowing up of Wozzeck into the depths; eerie atmosphere surrounding children at play for brief final scene eloquently, disquietingly framed the preceding interlude.

Allan Held, replacing Matthias Goerne, played Wozzeck. While singing calmer, still despairing passages, such as aria with which to fully introduce himself, he disguised well some thinness from often now a conspicuously hollow middle register. Low notes are also weak. It was for these moments, calm opening of final exchange of lines with Marie by the lake included that Held won the most sympathy for his character.

Tendency to shoot much higher for pitches or Sprechstimme suggestion thereof also showed up early though. Exaggeration of dramatic gesture during long scene in Act Two in company of both Captain and Doctor needling him, took Held clearly beyond the pale, beyond point he could maintain any tonal quality either spoken or sung, at all - rendering him practically hoarse. His giving some lines, often hallucinatory text some shape and meaning during passacaglia alone with the Doctor revealed good musical and histrionic understanding of what is going on, along with calm solicitude of Marie and child during two other scenes. Loss of dignity for Wozzeck during much of this was such that other than to voluntarily suspend disbelief, it became difficult from Held to perceive any better a Wozzeck than as though cut out of cardboard.

Stuart Skelton emerged sturdy vocally, at first gentlemanly as the Drum Major, scrupulous to pitch and Berg’s note values while coming across haughty, a little blown up in both what develops into confrontation with Marie and then later with Wozzeck. Of less consistent quality were the Captain and Doctor of Gerhard Siegel and Walter Fink, respectively. For each of their individual scenes in Act One, their individual comedic sense of their absurdist lines was very fine. Siegel relied well upon text, good pointing thereof to at first convey the Captain’s (willful) neuroticism. Fink drew upon deep vocal reserves to assist in making parody on much hyper-attenuated gravitas of the Doctor. Over what started as fine intricacy and voice leading from Met wind principals, both failed to avoid exaggerating everything during their Act Two extended scene together.

Russell Thomas made very flexible turn out of an ideally earthy, artless, simple Andres, with fine bonhomie, sanguine demeanor. The two workmen, Richard Bernsteibn, Mark Schowalter, started off lustily, robustly, but with Bernstein hamming up the absurdity of opening his proto-Marxist sermon at the tavern until making better sense of how it wraps up. Wendy White took to Margret’s exchange of gossipy invective with Marie on very broad terms, then settled comfortably into her Thrid Act song for Swabian lass with fruity aplomb, but got rushed off making the most of her menacing designation of ‘Blut’ across Wozzeck’s right arm. Philip Castagner made exaggerated caricature of the Idiot.

Utter theatricality of this venture was seldom in doubt, pairing up Mark Lamos’s plainly lit abstract set, with which to amply provide the action space, and toward humanizing matters with James Levine’s broadly Romantic leaning approach Pacing overall was good, exception being some compulsive rushing through certain passages – in part to compensate for lingering a bit much to gild several others. Levine, even today, wears things still a little on the sleeve his affection for this music, and narrative it unfolds.

Nothing here however could compete with the fierce and uncompromising dedication to the part of Marie Waltraud Meier provided. Not only does she fully convincingly live the part on stage, but painstakingly accomplishes singing literally everything perfectly in tune, drawing out of the Met orchestra beautiful limning of their sonorities during for instance the first scene of Act Three.

Contrast between saucy repartee with Margret and doting lullaby over her son, just as much between her at first glib attention to Wozzeck’s raving and smoldering passion for the Drum Major became perfectly established here. Meier also made Marie’s pleasure in company of her son and with gift from the Drum Major equally palpable, contrasting with her growing anxiety in presence of Wozzeck and then her eventually, ominously defying him. Marie’s beginning to awaken to conscience, while sifting through varied emotions and Bible verses very stoically, realistically took on tragic proportions, together with very poignantly rendered belated attempt to better reach out to Wozzeck during their final scene together. Some can still recall Falk Struckmann’s definitive interpretation of the title role at the Met, fourteen years ago, to attempt reckoning what such match-up practically anywhere could have yielded. Meier and Struckmann have now met for short run of Parsifal in Vienna the following week.

As an aside, Struckmann was the dramatically vivid Scarpia on an otherwise quite ordinary January Met broadcast of Puccini’s Tosca; I did not remain tuned in after Act Two. Since, as further aside, the Luc Bondy production of Tosca opened at the Met in 2009, with its willful postmodern eccentricities, nobody else has so definitively contributed to portraying any character therein so well ,as Struckmann now has.

Had the Met been able to bottle up the intensity Meier and Struckmann have contributed to their parts from principal players and conductor involved too, overall effect of such a Wozzeck, instead of being just relatively fulfilling as occurred here, could have been explosive. What will linger on from this experience will most of all be the unforgettable Marie from Waltraud Meier, taking curtain calls with John Albert,as the boy – Meier again revelatory of what might or could have been – in context her selfless and complete dedication to marriage of Alban Berg’s music to Georg Buchner’s text.

Comments dedicated to Dr.'s Richard Kim, John Baird (retired0 and to Connie and their seemingly indefatigable good work.

Dr Kultur: AB neo-expressionismus zyklus II. Wolfgang Rihm. Bruckner 7. DSO Berlin. Kent Nagano. Rayanne Dupuis. Philharmonie. 19.03.11.

2011-04-07T01:33:00.000-07:00

Over-riding theme to this second pairing of mature Bruckner symphonies with contemporary work commenting upon it seemed to be German-ness, opening with work of particularly critical, soul-searching, deconstructionist perspective from Wolfgang Rihm. Kent Nagao conducted at the Bavarian State Opera four years ago his 35 minute monodram - Das Gehege (‘The Bawn’). Gabrielle Schnaut played the woman, Anita, accompanied by dancer as ‘eagle’ at its word premiere – pared with Strauss’s Salome (portrayed by Angela Denoke). Its text is the final scene of play by Botho Strauss, Sclusschor (title allusive to finale to the Beethoven Ninth).

A woman, night the Berlin Wall has fallen, has by stealth entered the Berlin Zoo and become involved with a caged eagle she finds therein and frees from its cage. She implores the bird to engage with her, taunts it to come nearer her, which it does. As the bird becomes more provoked, she becomes haughtier, more intrusive on its space - to point the bird then lunges at her; she then kills it, then emerges from the scene drenched in blood. A golden eagle, symbolizing Germany, with crises to which Germany has subjected herself to over the years, gets left subject to interpretation. Parallel between the eagle becoming an object of desire and Jokanaan’s severed head for Salome in Munich became obvious. Suggested is some ideation of the ego, concept of national identity closely related thereof.

Rihm’s rhapsodic scoring, definitely more conservative than his two full-length operas, evokes past musical heritage, but commenting upon such as in effect zooming in and out, alternatively subtly and abruptly for effect of varied distances and perspectives. Two orchestral interludes feature procession on echoing pizzicati, chimes, interspersed winds, brass all in detached whole tones to evocative, distancing Orinetal-esque effect. This all works confluent with the varied emotional, psychological states of Anita during strange encounter in question. Reference to an extended diatonic past musically has for Rihm something more to do with memory, recollection than anything else - challenged, confronted here full-out. Subversive it is to reveal tonality as Rihm does - left constantly floundering, between being subject to brass interjections from without and prone to self-destruction from within. All this seems to work parallel to the shattered psyche of the woman and morbid association in neurotic, even erotic identification with the bird to an aggressive extent - as Jens Laurson for MusicWeb Internat’l has indicated. Brass interjections help bring to the fore ramifications of extending tonality into numerous seventh, ninth, eleventh chords, overlapping thereof.

Over suspended dissonance in harmonics, other instrumentation, Das Gehege begins with assertive lines of reproach for decaying features of aging bird in question - parallel to revulsion one feels at first seeing the head of Jokanaan to start final scene of Salome. As contrast one has the woman muse elaborately over concept of ‘Wald’ – repeating the word a dozen times, to close this monologue, accompanied by varied orchestral reminiscences of what has transpired – ending below trailing off concertmaster harmonics over vast unfilled space. Mood for such development is elegiac - several waltz-like allusions to the music of Richard Strauss also, ranging from warmly nostalgic to sultry, debauched - latter as during Anita’s depraved observation of the bird’s decaying physical condition, i.e. in lusty chest tones on ‘Rippenkorb’ (repeated). Both at moment’s notice can abruptly break off into jagged, agitated stretto through violent swoops, half-glissando up in the strings – feigning strong beating of bird wings - peppered by highly dissonant brass interjections. Echoing of lyric lines, phrasing in harmonics, high woodwinds also comes across detached, less so poignantly elegiac writing for oboe and English horn.

Several quiet interludes in this create sensation of time suspended – with ostinati running through them seemingly devoid of any better than vaguely allusive connection to what has preceded or will follow them. ‘Time shards’ Michael Cherlin speaks of, regarding Arnold Schoenberg’s Erwartung definitely come to mind - likely Rihm’s least contrived sounding allusion thereof in ‘Das Gehege.’ March like rhythms emerge at moment’’s notice with little regularly paced to accompany, even during one interlude of increasingly clastic application of Alberti figuration in the strings. Concertmaster solo riffs off the section Alberti on harmony a whole tone up to accompany tellingly Anita addressing the eagle with line ‘Wo ist dein Doppenbild?’ Such reference to march rhythm, other musical allusion to militancy arrives by wonderfully varied means of instrumentation, placement, whether to the fore (and without tune to accompany) and/or functioning as something without aim, direction - ephemeral or upon which one at best can only obtain a tenuous grasp.

Onomatopaeic references to nature abound, such as telling extended moment for principal flute and concertmaster on harmonics playing exposed lines reflexively imitating each other as Anita reflects on how much or how little the eagle does toward matching her disturbed frame of mind. Free floating line of harmonics tremolo in exposed concertmaster solo, thinly accompanied during closing paragraphs is one more instance. Qualified masterpiece, mildly contrived as this work sounds, even through its air of nostalgia, there is some potent undercurrent here – remindful of how Rihm’s other operatic work, Conquest of Mexico for instance, really pushed the envelope.

For comparison’s sake, long track by Nancy Gustafson and Markus Stenz with Gurzenich Koln can be heard on youtube, for which we can be grateful. Both orchestras sound equally at home capturing the idiom, fully internalizing this music. Nagano and his more histrionic soloist Rayanne Dupuis – with hollower sound, slightly greater impetus to vent hysteria, but less warmth than Gustafson - lent this work the more detached perspective. Written very well, comfortably for the voice, animated here is much gestural variety, affectation through well connected line of recitative, arioso, declamation, melisma - all helping provide unifying quality to elaborate psychological landscape on display. Dupuis’s low notes were less secure, less lustrous, thereby less suggestive of deeper motif than those of Gustafson. Hardly less authoritative, less imaginative though has been this rendition.

Kent Nagano then offered Bruckner’s Seventh relatively along conventional lines, drawing full bloom out of DSO Berlin strings for their broad lines to abet sustaining fairly moderate pace for its first two movements. His perspective still seems mildly averse to bringing out what might be construed this music’s hieratic aspects. In fact, to avoid such intangibles, some interpretative sameness or generality took over sometimes. While openly maintaining linear clarity throughout the first movement, some specific turn of phrase, innate nuance thereof got mildly streamlined away.

Direct shaping of broad opening theme was good, but by there being some emphasis on strings projecting their sound forward, a little stodginess crept in early with violins extending out noble first theme toward its crest. Nagano then, assisted by his winds, regained focus overall shape with the second theme, winds providing very good light pulsated ring for ongoing current underneath. Buildup through ascending line in the strings thus sounded more circumspect. Not much there was to do to bring things down to making all down to earth; bourree like third subject opened with plentiful character until Nagano felt inclined toward arching, projecting line to emerge thereof, then to deftly close first large section of this movement. Reposeful opening of next section got slightly heavily enveloped – much ardor then drawn out of line DSO Berlin cellos with which to reply to wind’s first theme inversion.

Somewhat lean, dry in persuasion, loud C Minor transition, inversion Nagano avoided rushing excessively, although making slightly conspicuous mild slowing up for restatement of the first theme when it can enter more surreptitiously instead. Restatement of first theme material transformed in relaxed frame of mind held forth better appeal to Nagano; simplicity with such through altered third subject in a redefining new key then took over very nicely. Steeply arched first theme consequent based paragraph eloquently issued forth - pressed forward trumpets then to blaze forth moments later bringing all to a fine, noble conclusion.

Nagano moderately pacing the Adagio, may have curiously only achieved shallow depth in feigning simplicity at its core while stopping at only suggesting spiritual fervor associated therein. Warmly intoned by DSO strings, expression for opening paragraph sounded ready to settle for generically elegiac. Melos radiated through lyrical second subject; better shape got achieved with first subject reprise - anticipating ascent through early climax (in C Major). Sequencing of consequent to the main theme got provided good color, shape, contrast thereby. Nagano eschewed underlining or sentimentalizing reprise of second subject for sake of ear’s grasp of this episode’s harmonic function, placement within keeping intact majestic subtly contrasted entirety on display. He also thus subtly hid notion of too much riding on the surface, Overall profile became stronger during final reprise of the main idea for body of the Adagio, over slowly running sextuplets; Nagano held line supple and firm, even if making climax to the Adagio more suggested than cumulative. Hush over coda, with Wagner tubas, other brass very warmly framed conclusion to this with fine resolve.

Good swagger held sway for rollicking scherzo - good spring to line persisting through re-transition to restating the opening trumpet call. Voicing filled much out, helping make light incisive segue toward carrying line forward. Most all got confidently projected toward brightly ending both scherzo and its return, while keeping tempo rock steady. Strings drowsily gathered fine shape for the Trio. Nuance in brief measure for underpinning trombone got missed, however. Line sumptuously filled out with angst before fine passing state of repose got easily restored.

Through ruddy double basses picking it up, the finale’s first theme started off at a strongly syncopated jaunt. In fine contrast with how this opened, sobriety filled out chorale idea to follow. Nagano mildly distended jagged unison augmentation of opening idea before infusing first reprise of chorale with extra warmth. Development of mostly opening theme’s inversion lent overall line slack through repeat of jagged brass augmentation – until exaggerated reach for fully weighted high B from brass to forcefully frame, then cut idea off. It took until imminent coda for the brass to fully regain poise. Nagano then called emphatically for greater stillness and awe with which to provide chorale one final stopover. With aplomb, toward perhaps shaking off several cobwebs about to accumulate moments earlier, Nagano forthrightly brought shards of opening theme back in, then urgently started coda with fresh unblemished reprise of the same. Arched crescendo organically branched out, while veering near precipice well calibrated to overall line. With more thrust, after over-emphasis on half cadence right before, Nagano set most all ablaze for exalted conclusion to effort here.

Many have reckoned the Sixth Symphony preview of the Seventh - both very different from each other in numerous ways. The Seventh, in contrast with the Sixth, just on its surface - where Nagano seemed most comfortable hanging out – has the bolder profile and outline than the already daring Sixth, mixed with, especially in the Adagio, a more rarefied quality perhaps effacing Nagano’s temperament and outlook on how Bruckner should go. The Seventh, at its winsome surface, is still special - with qualities for its guilelessness that can get overlooked, and has by many before. Within its persuasion to engage more with present world lying before us, Nagano expressed greater ease with the Sixth, its unique demands, as evident at the 2005 BBC Proms and on disc. The Seventh, on this outing has proven an only slightly more elusive challenge for him.

DKR de: Berlin PO/Alan Gilbert. Emmanuel Ax, Christianne Stotijn. Berg lieder, I.S. Katschei musik the highlights. Philharmonie Berlin. 01.04.11

2011-04-06T08:30:00.000-07:00

Contrasting sonorities, between concertato of winds and strings, more plentifully intermixed, intermeshed in Stravinsky’s Firebird – especially as played complete, seemed unifying theme to well varied program New York Philharmonic music director Alan Gilbert conducted - also of Alban Berg lieder and Mozart concerto.

Christianne Stotijn made most distinctive, opulent soloist for the Seven Early Songs by Berg. Evenness of tone all across the range, fine bloom on often floating top, at once vivid and intimate painting of Romantic text by varied poets made all here clearly evoke shifting moods, lights, perspectives issuing forth. Mystery evoking barely lit night sky for reprise of beginning of the first song, ‘Nacht’ was haunting, Stotijn’s voice opening out more fully, beseechingly for the ‘Gib acht’s’ that frame crest to first stanza of this song and envelope its conclusion.

Gilbert and the Berliners became more openly engaging in accompanying the chamber ensemble accompanied ‘’Schilflied’ (Reed Song) with its more apparent clarity of texture, all to limn Stotijn’s intimated and yet full grasp of romantic yearning, longing this song more directly conveys. Febrile line from Stotijn opulently filled out ‘Die Nachtigall;’ ‘with for its quasi-operatic conception, Gilbert and string section of the Berlin Philharmonic sounded slightly retiring. Stotijn floated crests to the song’s broad line with fullness and ease. Lightly apprehensive conversational tone very knowingly filled out ‘Traumgekroent . It all worked toward Stotijn’s alternation of darkening and lightening of her tone, latter working toward ability to float very freely the soul-liberating high G - in engagement with image of night closing this song. Light interlude of ‘Im Zimmer’ (‘Indoors’) got intimately pointed, contrasting it with rich appoggiatura laden, rapturous ‘Liebesode’, betraying sense of deep longing underneath, fullness thereof grasped entirely on ‘so reich an Sehnsucht,’ its closing line.

For closing song, ‘Sommertage’, fully orchestrated, Gilbert became more openly engaging in his collaboration with Stotijn than with either one of two other fully orchestrated songs here. Stotijn picked up well on sense of passionate determination, desire, intimation of such, in view of the fleeting quality of youth, of life in general. Alan Gilbert throughout, though passively for some of the Berg,, made a fully supportive accompanist to Stotijn, having the Berlin Philharmonic read their elaborately harmonized lines, spellings with good clarity, likewise of purpose, with keeping in mind the gentle naivete of vision conveyed here, but perhaps as all at slight distance from the very emotional fiber near core of this brief cycle. Stotijn, who gave a fascinating recital at Edinburgh last fall of Schoenberg’s Opus 15, ‘Book of Hanging Gardens’ and selection of a dozen Strauss lieder, made ideal choice for soloist here.

Alan Gilbert then brought out Emmanuel Ax for the E-Flat Piano Concerto, K. 482 by Mozart, composed for Lenten season concerts of 1786 – alongside most celebrated concerti Mozart wrote in A Major and C Minor. Identifiably, a generically Romantic approach to Mozart prevailed here, Gilbert stepping back from being slightly pedantic on opening ritornello (and other ritornelli) to allow Berlin wind principals to expand out deferential lines with fine grace. Gilbert then boldly framed approaching first solo entrance, Ax providing his lines good, gently playful fluency. Some stodginess interfered with grandiose B-Flat Minor opening mostly solo transition, Ax then deftly descending into turning winsome first movement’s second theme. Slightly pulled back phrasing of runs coming off, also during transition leading up to the second theme became tricky for Ax to shake off - also after phlegmatic start to ritornello right before the Development.

Ax slightly dragged pace through harmonic sequencing to follow, his runs blandly decorating line beneath in mostly the winds; he then could hardly make re-transition more yielding than how his playing sounded already. Fortunately, some reassuring sobriety then took over, managing to restore sense of scale to how this passage concludes. Ax, in decoratively imitating flute consequents from the Exposition, was imaginative, but expanded out second theme in the recapitulation, curiously came across slightly glib, phlegmatic. Enveloping for starting the cadenza became self-conscious, as toward also making following utter flourish of it all discreetly introspective.

Gilbert, in having provided Ax limited poise, grandeur to frame his solo flights during expansive first movement made statement of theme in strings alone glibly shaped to open the second. Ax then opened out beseechingly on first variation with singing tone, though phrasing some of it slightly as from behind. Including duet flute and bassoon duet over strings, the most Mozartean playing Berlin provided here emerged during variations led by woodwinds. Ax somewhat heavily underlined running left hand sixteenths for minor key variation in-between (two in major keys). Gilbert then made phlegmatic firm tutti statements in dialogue with more yielding soloist – replies thereof deftly, elaborately expressive, continuing simply, varyingly so to the end, with Berlin Philharmonic less well defined behind Ax - while not forgetting how first-rate their woodwinds.

Woodwinds very well abetted animated skip from Ax through rondo theme, return thereof during the finale, Ax providing second theme equally good spring and animation – with Gilbert slightly retiring right behind. All slightly more in earnest, leaned on than how the music, fleeting impression for it to make, might better simply speak for itself, the central Minuetto section had winds and Ax especially trading off how to make ardent vocalized line out of much of it. Less genuine was Ax making fleeting cadenza reprise of this section precious, Ax and winds for reprise of main section of this needing allotment of more space with all a bit stiffly, but robustly pressed forward from Gilbert. All in all, for the concert hall, this was a fairly good, passable K. 482, if lacking something in grand gesture and fully realized expressive weight framed thereof for it.

Having Mozart programmed likely abetted how very well much of ‘Firebird’ went. The Berlin Philharmonic has neither played or recorded the complete score for this much; when they had, under Bernard Haitink, results, due in part to some weighing down of Teutonic accents in both strings and brass, emerged only intermittently inspired – taking also into account Haitink’s London Philharmonic disc of this (still among very best listed). Gilbert kept restrained infusing ‘Firebird’ with any excessively projected or American accent. Such could have from Berlin easily turned out wonky, awkward.

Pulsation through brooding Introduction was good, but color dry from lower strings, but lower winds and brass then better defining repeat of the same lines. Gilding of animation to percolate up from depths below and rushing through Jardin enchantee made for a surface-y feel to further opening paragraphs. Breeze through Firebird’s first appearance on the scene, with fine shimmer achieved in the strings, emerged very well in character; as abetted by bright woodwind and muted trumpet solos, her dance conveyed much supple life and animation, with capture by Ivan continuing matters well on cue. Woodwinds for ‘’Supplications’ found themselves slightly more, though characterful, to the fore than the norm for strings having entered somewhat subdued and dry, denying some shape to all their beseeching. Strings returned for reprise of main section with better profile after well achieved lighter arabesque for middle section to this.

Following brief taking in of Ravel-esque dreamy atmosphere all about, rhythmic pointing of ‘Jeu avec pommes d’Or’ was good – very fine clarinet solo to solo viola obbligato notable. Mild preciosity from Gilbert only intermittently began to turn things bland, as also did a little tentativeness toward making good profile to line for lyrical Round Dance to follow. Past a slightly rushed daybreak and other than gilding several flowers springing up along the way, Gilbert became the most engaged he had been entire evening long with much sorcery, trickery, carillon from Katschei and his minions to kick in. Even places where Gilbert, especially for Katschei, tended to almost over-emphasize, underline - as during dialogue between Ivan and sorcerer, came alive for all the very droll wit Gilbert could pack within – including for passing explosions of rage.

Picking up pace for all of Katschei’s malevolent retinue as segue into Danse infernale was joyously spot-on. The bizarreness and queer Mozartean lightness to Danse infernale itself all became very telling. Gilbert’s balancing, interweaving of Berlin woodwinds through string section refrain was at once very well defined and supple. Flute flutter-tonguing and Eastern quality to strings on their melisma chanted refrains built up to very defiant conclusion. Equally focused was the following Berceuse, excellently so, deeply achieved principal bassoon solo, strings gilded on descant harmonizing above just right.

Achievement of light, following droll sorcerer’s demise, however got lingered over more heavily than Gilbert could manage well, but emergence of solo horn from afar spinning out his lines was haunting, preparing solidly accented general rejoicing, if mildly less engaged with primary colors to the fore here than with mercurial, prickly interplay, engagement with sinister forces omnipresent before. Gilbert brought much of his own knowledge, character to this score, even if not having yet found a completely defined interpretation for it entirely; too much though can be made of that. Many of the right elements are already present; the Berlin Philharmonic emerged deferential to solid effort thus evident from Alan Gilbert at the Philharmonie. daskulturradio.de

NET on NPR (also in HD): Heavily pedantic revival of Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor. Natalie Dessay. Patrick Summers. 19.03.11

2011-03-23T09:23:00.000-07:00

Mary Zimmerman’s production of Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor opened three years ago – after two previous productions of this at the Met, especially first one of which had to (quickly) get scrapped. This is arguably Zimmerman’s most successful production of three thus far at the Met - all of bel canto repertoire. James Levine was to conduct the 2008 broadcast, but due to health issues, cancelled, being replaced by John Colaneri. Natalie Dessay played Lucia. The production first got aired for Met in HD, starring Anna Netrebio, conducted better by Marco Armiliato, though hardly less conventionally.

With general period costumes and backdrop (with minimal updating?), Zimmerman employed a feminist meta-textual approach to Lucia, some of which with Netrebko, singing better than Dessay, faded into the scenery. Dessay took her cue on how to interpret Lucia in 2008 with emphasis more on acting than (should be) the norm – in context of how histrionics got influenced Until settling down for the Mad Scene – how ironically this reads – bordering on comical histrionics became partial culprit for precarious vocalism then. Ironically, it was not for Dessay all she could emotionally invest into Lucia, but with state of alienation, detachment to portray to the hilt – putting aside special affection for any man, even Edgardo. Some of Walter Scott, Donzietti’s story hinges on there being some connection – let us hope.

Natalie Dessay’s voice today, less stable between registers to take on such high-lying flights, alone caused her problems this time. Prudently, she decided this year on starting out, as she explained in interview, taking more musical approach, actually trusting the music, God forbid, than during previous run of this and than also of La Sonnambula. Strongly, supportively partnered on stage by Theodora Hanslowe (Alisa), Dessay attended to line for recitative and to open ‘Regnava’ better than before. With employing more tone toward achieving better sostenuto, Dessay filled out Lucia’s lines self-consciously, while encountering tension around the break. Reach into high register, during conscientiously sung cabaletta, became tentative, especially negotiating runs therein. Through duet with the amply supportive, emotionally engaged Josef Calleja, Dessay, after tentative phrasing from both, coasted well free of rigid beating time beneath to fully shape her lines and combine effort very well with his.

Starting Act Two, Dessay, attempting to darkly achieve forza needed, settled for more back, occluded placement for ‘Il pallor funesto’ making obvious a real blandness of tone and of diction to color it (Complaints over holidays about tenor Yonghoon Lee’s dry Italian for Don Carlo seem completely churlish now). After telling moment through expressive recitative, Dessay struggled to keep line together for ‘Soffrivo nel pianot’, for scooping her way in, then making increasingly heavy weather of register shifts through remainder of scene with Enrico.

The ‘Mad Scene’ became as much willed as sung. After expressively starting recitative, Dessay after unsupported high G, turned glib, detached, perhaps anticipating having to emit nonsensical laugh right before scooped into ‘Ardon gl’incensi.” Remindful of common verismo effects earlier - with Lucia imagining it sounded like moments earlier Edgardo entering the room, the thick, quavery tone, sour on low notes, became unattractive. Agility on runs adopted a quasi-improv worked quality. One had to gasp slightly at Dessay bravely taking on her cadenza unaccompanied – though with dull intonation, but managing to keep idea of pitch steady. Agility continued mostly unencumbered into Part 2 of the Mad Scene, except for things continuing to veer precariously toward sounding like Recital One for Cathy gig with handful of lunged at notes, to go with choppy accompaniment underneath, then several changes of placement on one climactic high B-Flat (nearly) – to then shy completely away from highly expressive half step above to instead without moment’s further hesitation drop a major seventh to C-Flat below.

One can hardly doubt Dessay’s dramatic abilities toward winning empathy with Lucia’s plight; how this combined with unsteady singing, however one either takes on faith or does not. No doubt, there are still roles still well suited for no doubt this genuinely gifted, still often charming artist, even while Lucia may no longer really be fully within reach.

Josef Calleja provided the sweet toned, ardent, ever attentive, prudently sung Edgardo. In context of much confusing going on musically, he conveyed well Edgardo’s despondency at his fate, genuine ardor for Lucia during first scene on stage. Curiously, he attempted putting up as little resistance as possible, somehow without missing dramatic intent of Edgardo’s defiance of Lucia, concerning freshly signed contract. He then provided good ring, swagger to scene with Enrico at Wolf’s Crag, starting out, but accompanied by unyielding beat from the pit, all went, dry-toned, unvaryingly flat-line together with Ludovic Tezier for cabaletta to their extended duet. Adding in more vibrato first within natural means, Calleja began the tomb scene with fine sostenuto, expressive regret, For slow cabaletta however, Calleja’s tone became more distraught, vibrato-laden to broader effect. While being as genuinely stylish an effort as anybody here could muster, definition as to Edgardo’s goals and eventual fate got mildly compromised – for interpretation providing just little more than half of what’s at stake.

Ludovic Tezier, with voice perhaps one cut below power required to sing a truly menacing Enrico, provided good snarl and darkened tone for the part. With emphasis on projecting much, line slightly broke up for especially opening lines to ‘Cruda, funesta’, cabaletta to which found him more prudent. His slightly nasal sound helped compromise conveying firm fortitude to Lucia in their extended scene together. In scene with Arturo, anticipating Lucia’s arrival with light snarl Enrico’s hypocrisy carried well, and as bedrock together with the Raimondo of Kwangchul Youn, stayed very well in character and provided good support, better than did man on podium for lyric voices floating above. Similar to Calleja, he started off the Wolf Crag’s scene incisively, to then later match Calleja in dryness of tone, delivery thereof for the rest of it.

Kwangchul Youn best supplied gravitas to this enterprise – hypocrisy tainted though Raimondo may be. Hint of making more nuance, insinuation out of ‘’Cedi, Cedi’ (duet) with Lucia somehow seeped through, with knowledge evident of how to otherwise eloquently shape his lines. He sounded perhaps as undercut as anybody in this cast by an unyielding beat from the pit. Even with a little gravel in the tone - sound Youn also has to plumb fine depths - he provided Raimondo’s Act Three racconta with excellently varied narrative sense, conveying use of rich experience he has accumulated away from bel canto, and providing the best legato and assurance of how to phrase Donzietti of anybody here, cheerfully able to overlook much insistence on beating time underneath.

Mathew Plenk was the bright toned confident Arturo, fearlessly tackling his arioso, what should not be enormous feat for second tier tenors - nowadays often just that. Philip Webb, after getting slightly covered up by ensemble starting Act One, aptly supplied a malevolently conniving Normanno.

On the podium was Patrick Summers. He conducted Lucia in Houston in 2003 - cast led by Laura Claycomb and Vinson Cole - likely better than he conducted this go-around. He spoke in interview of approaching Lucia more as influenced by what had preceded it, such as Gluck he conducted weeks earlier, than as how it might anticipate Verdi. Working with the Met orchestra, one however had trouble hearing what he might have meant. Numerous rhythms got clipped, maintenance of tempo was strict. This was fully modern playing – fully assured of itself - often projecting better than some of the singing.

Most insipid was the special pointing, underlining of orchestral interjections during recitative passages; several choral interludes, by comparison, plodded along monotonously. Rushed endings to especially cabalettas, pushing relentlessly past highly expressive broken appoggiatura during ‘Verranno a te’ too for instance, proved much insistence, but also inattention to supporting singers for naturally sculpting, sustaining their lines, for sake of however ‘correct’ eschewal of rubato. For any bel canto context, not to mention specialist, such is indeed really entirely wrong. Singers seemed compelled to follow Summers here, and seldom the other way around. It became hard to tell whether Summers, though intermittently, allowed his singers to at times freely take command or if they were breaking free on their own toward achieving reasonable semblance of legato.

Kwangchul Youn again most of all explicitly insinuated, then included necessary rubato to shape his lines, to supply for instance his Act Three narration much feeling, insight. Nuptials introducing chorus got marked with forced accenting, then for Summers to streamline most of the rest of his way through what follows, smoothing over important dramatic accents. Dessay and especially Calleja prudently kept their voices light, over much push and shove, to ward off damage thereof.

Somehow, in attempting to break free of Romantic tradition, Summers matched what this production - conceits thereof ubiquitous - attempted to say. Sticking to being a diva-accommodating maestro for a bel canto piece can make for a bland, faceless affair out of such, both dramatically and musically. Summers’s frequent over-insistence though came across pedantic, with playing louder than marked and insensitive ear for harmonic change in the accompaniment - its intended expressive effect toward singers being still able to flexibly shape their lines and avoid strain undercut. Not only were some rhythms wrong, but overall this music’s profile, character missing as well. One could remember at end of the day that Patrick Summers had conducted this, but while asking why, concerning what should come across. This was hardly a Lucia missing shape more than during its first run three years ago, but even with its dogged insistence, ironically seldom providing anything more.

DR Kultur: DSO Berlin, Jiri Belohlavek. French, Slavic program. Isabelle Faust, violin. 09.03.11 Philharmonie, Berlin.

2011-03-22T00:22:00.000-07:00

Jiri Belohlavek, music director of BBC Symphony Orchestra, chose interesting combination of French and Slavic repertoire for this (presumably return) guest engagement with DSO Berlin. Violinist Isabelle Faust was soloist for rhapsodies by Ravel and Bartok. Belohlavek opened with Ma Mere l’Oye (Mother Goose) Suite by Maurice Ravel, the one altogether non-Slavic work on this program. With the warmth, nuance, color with which Belohlavek infused this, especially from DSO winds, a gentle hint for suggestion of patina from the piano music, opera Vixen from Janacek came to mind – fortunately without distorting Ravel’s rhythms, sound world. The clarity of the playing was such, not to fear comparison with for instance a chillier Pierre Boulez. This proved Belohlavek’s most successful contribution to this program.

Such as for ‘Petit Poucet, some of the slower lyricism in Ravel’s suite tempted from Belohlavek a slight tendency to drag – toward very deftly drawing out much color with just lightly gilding it. Pointing of the chinoserie in ‘Laidronette’ along with piquant, light bird call revealed a like-minded, intimate feel for nature this music – as an aside like that of Janacek - openly invites. Trio led by deep toned bass clarinet brought out the equally deep meditative quality of Ravel’s opening out to the Far East. The self-contained complacency of solo clarinet depicting ‘la belle’ in ‘Belle et la bete’ was ideal, as was by contrast doleful, contra-basson tempting to court her – DSO strings leaning a bit hard for her anxious replies. The dreamy conclusion to this, in helping prepare mood for the opening of ‘Jardin feerique’ was perfect. “Le Jardin feerique’ opened with fine solemnity, at only mildly slack comodo pace – with concertmaster Burkhard Hartog sweetly limning solemnity below with sweet consequents. Belohlavek stepped back to let all with greatest ease sink into fully achieved cadence out of which to build fine calibrated opening out of much splendor to bring this suite to a fine close.

It took until orchestral accompanied second half of Ravel’s Tzigane for violinist Isabelle Faust to show resilience toward achieving good confidence in approaching this piece in place of something more brazen, willful - and then through Bartok to follow, all went well. For first half of Tzigane however, with already apparently sufficient technique to conquer this piece, supporting discretion to back it up went missing. There is purposefully the modernism, stylization to how Tzigane is constructed, that it does not need near so much help as Faust attempted providing, with all the back-phrasing, extra shoving on phrase endings, extra-heavy bow strokes, hint of Bing Crosby or of jazz riff at several junctures, etc. The utter wildness of Ravel’s highly realistic opening – not quite genuinely Magyar as Bartok, but definitely a cut above on genuinely folkloric terms over Vienniese café manner of Liszt or Brahms, got lost.

With DSO Berlin harpist overshadowing Faust on segue in – even with intermittent continuation of pushing not achieved from within, all came much better into focus, for Belohlavek’s grasp of color, genuinely Slavic feel for what more genuinely constitutes ‘gypsy’ Concertato light speed up for refrain in clarinets and horns was spot-on – and in particular other contributions from a still very fine wind section in DSO Berlin. Isabelle Faust in being obsequious, then provided fine collaboration for most of the second half of this, and again remained assured during the Bartok Rhapsody No. 2 to follow.

Orchestral adaptation of the Bartok Second Rhapsdy with its deftly added coloration and shift in emphasis, removes a little of the edge of the wildness of especially the stomping rhythms that constantly propel its ‘Friss’ (second) half. Belohlavek’s feel for it, together with Faust was idiomatic for this setting, the only thing to complain about perhaps being a little further softening of this music’s edge and rhythms. The soulful character of this music, especially for its first half, was never in doubt, and in color, and bowing from orchestra and soloist alike, through constant metamorphosis of step informing the ‘Friss’ and its coloristic implications (piano accompaniment is less skillful in achieving - making it different piece this way) – for instance in passage during ‘Friss’ where soloist combines figuration with harps (prickly by contrast in the piano accompanied version), very deftly handled by all three players. Faust and Hartog combined efforts with, as encore, two Bartok duos (out of the forty-four) fully, confidently in mastery of by turns soulful and earthy savagery of the writing. All was limber from both Faust and Hartog – that simplicity Faust denied the first half of Tzigane was no longer in doubt.

Belohlavek, after interval, selected a relaxed, slightly broadening pace for the first movement to Dvorak’s sunny D Major Symphony (No. 6). Throughout, this was a Sixth conscientious to stress its lyrical aspects, only almost making something comparable to Brahms’s first orchestral serenade thereof – or more to the F Major Symphony preceding it than to perhaps the Sixth itself. For good clarity of line and texture, something can be said for such an approach, but here taking it with just barely adequate light and resonance to infuse both. Some stretches of especially the two outer movements of this symphony perhaps only made it one or two cuts above the pedantry of taking it more commonly the brass-driven bombastic way – such as presented at one of two local conservatories here in Houston fairly recently.

Some brightness for crest of opening theme, ritronelli thereof remained, but Brahms Second derived waltz step to first movement’s second theme needed more lift to clearly raise it above what might comet across flat-line. Reflective cast, coming off this and in attempting to find the right mystery with which to open the Development were good, making it perceptible that Belohlavek might be thinking back to example of Karel Ancerl, but as though curiously mixed in with something approaching a purist bent to it all.

Trumpets and horns brightly exuding fervor near end of the first movement, then after much lingering over both bringing it to a quiet conclusion, they framed opening of the second movement well. Pace for the ongoing Adagio, without being fast, flowed well onward – again after a quite broadly paced first movement. Complementing the overall open-air feel, the light perspective through which dialogue between violins and winds emerged here was refreshing. There are no slow movements in the Dvorak symphonies more beautiful than in both this and the D Minor Seventh Symphony that in fact may mysteriously complement each other in several ways. Exchange of sighs between violins and winds abetted filling all out, while keeping texture warm and light.

Mild sectioning off of oboe duet simple cadential lines came across slightly stodgy as did slightly strict reining in of the brief agitated minor key episode. Easing up from this, making supple re-transition back though was very fine, while introspectively picking up good wistful air to infuse this place. DSO Berlin cellos openly then sang forth this movement’s opening theme - little to encumber the magic of once more encountering this music, its innate pastoral intimacy. Repetitive figure through following Furaint got supplied little lift from internal voicing within, making utter joyousness of this mildly reserved – forthright, but somewhat pedantically so. Extra compensating during yielding line from the violins, while expressive, seemed just that. Extra lift, filling out of main Furiant idea provided good oomph to close out outer sections of this – until slightly pushing much final coda to this scherzo. Piccolo emerged a bit high ad dry during Trio for it waiting past dry, slightly flaccid opening to it to develop fine expressivity.

Streamlined feel for the finale’s opening lines, toward keeping textures supple – DSO winds answering with same idea more characterfully, as also with fine spark they provided this finale’s dance like second theme. For fugato, extension of it both, stiffness from DSO string section prevailed, along with some strain at getting accenting right. Wistful episode of arabesque and yielding quality of re-transition off forthrightly, stiffly realized restatement of opening theme in D Minor provided relief. Achievement of festive ritronelli, recapitulating them, became more assured. Coda to the finale sounded quasi-academic in excessive pointing of accents, then also stodgy in so much leaning on final restatement of opening theme, abetting the impression that Belohlavek may not have fully convinced himself that perhaps this music can speak a little better for itself.

All carping aside, this was a sufficiently characterized, decently played Dvorak Sixth, if hardly at all near a definitive one. Some thinning of the ranks, especially among DSO Berlin strings, injuriously so, has indeed become apparent – issue over which Ingo Metzmacher brought to an end his position with this ensemble. The diffuse acoustics of the Philharmoie do not obscure well what does not quite curry favor within how things get performed there. For how things got played here, Jiri Belohlavek should still be welcome back for at least occasional guest appearances again.

BBC: London SO/Simon Rattle. Revisit of Berlin transfigural pairing of Bruckner and Messiaen. Barbican. 07.03.14.

2011-03-18T08:11:00.000-07:00

Transfiguration was apparently order for the day behind program first played under Simon Rattle recently instead by the Berlin Philharmonic. I have yet to hear transcript from that weekend of concerts, also pairing Olivier Messiaen’s winds and percussion scored Et Exspecto Ressurectionem and Anton Bruckner Ninth Symphony.

‘Et exspecto ressurectionem mortuorum’ (1964) represented (start to) phase of new simplicity for Messiaen – toward better refinement, distillation of applying his compositional techniques. Whereas the five movements to ‘Et exspecto’ are untitled, Biblical quotation is cited for each. Rattle was assured deep color from sax-horn player among LSO ranks to open the first movement (‘Out of the depths have I cried’ – Psalm. 130), plus dark, burnished sound from LSO brass. Climactic, multi-layered chords - series of which accumulate a formidable crescendo - got openly projected. All rang out upon high, but traversing lower registers, intonation and grasp of this music’s hieratic sentiments both became slightly compromised.

For the second movement (‘Christ, being raised from the dead’ – Romans 6:9) Rattle made jagged opening unison light melismae and then gilded exchange of monody between principal woodwinds – threatening to make line sag. Fifteen-unit Hindu rhythm, the Simhavikrama, received somewhat extra playful touch, without breaking toward being egregiously so – just enough to have one lightly question to what extent Rattle has internalized matters. For third movement (‘The hour is coming’ – John 5:29) a certain overt quality to the music-making again revealed perhaps putting at a distance mystical sense of death’s inevitability this music better simply conveys. LSO chimes carried a curiously metallic quality about then. Crescendo for full body of woodwinds got slightly rushed, as did (enhanced) crescendo on gong. Uriapuru (Amazon bird) song from concertato of winds received more natural enunciation.

Supple dance like step characterized the more multifaceted fourth movement - with antiphonal calibration between winds and (or answering) bells, cowbells. Chorale beneath in unison brass animated concertato well, providing good frame to the rest.
Higher winds succinctly profiled light tracing of calandra lark; Rattle’s hieratic framing of concluding slow stretto for full arsenal of winds, bright on top, also proved very satisfying. Finale (‘And I heard the voice of a great multitude’ (Revelation 19:6), alongside first movement to this, simple, offered well calibrated richly varied antiphony between six gongs underpinning well measured line from unison horns. Overtones, emerging from percussion below, enriched ability to grasp (or not) ideal experience of, sense of grandeur for concluding thoughts – toward all being able to fit very well.

For being so compressed a work, ‘Et exspecto’ holds formidable, significant perils for those who might take any of its gestural simplicity for granted. Rattle, for having invested some thought therein, came up with performance direct at feigning well simplicity paramount here - better than with two Messiaen full length works he has conducted in Berlin over the past decade. Work for smaller ensemble, of relatively modest proportions, ‘Et exspecto’ fits better Rattle’s capabilities engaging this corner of the repertoire; this was a good performance. Hardly any offense got committed here, but neither was there quite all there could have been toward making more distinctive sense of this unique composition.

What may eventually emerge remains elusive - Simon Rattle savored talking about there actually being (close to) a completed fourth movement to the Bruckner Ninth. This may be due to new unearthing of sketches mostly yet unseen for finale, putting things modestly, to be all but one-tenth of it intact - without massive intervention. According to Robert Simpson, that he noticed a generation ago lack of anything suggesting a coda among the sketches, it would be a daunting task to put one together - to what could perhaps still ultimately become Bruckner’s longest symphony. Good helping of skepticism still remains healthy. Rattle, interviewed, appealed to rhetorical safety net, to prudently proclaim Bruckner’s Ninth still complete, even with still only three movements.

One or two further issues come to mind. One is likely slight over-emphasis on likely the parlous state of Bruckner’s physical and mental state during time of composition. With masterpiece on this level, there are different perspectives from which to reckon it’s meaning overall – and without leaning Pirandellian here how to negotiate inner workings thereof. Quite frankly, a little more than both Robert Simpson and Simon Rattle may reckon, inclusive of considering the weirdness of numerous passages in the Ninth, here was a way too for Bruckner – who had to have been quite lucid to have written much of the Ninth so well – to have looked out far ahead of all about him. In the process, Bruckner achieved sonorities, as also Simpson cites, both out of the ordinary and indeed unique to himself. Even for a dying man, tormented by doubt, there is hardly anything more positive than to be doing this very thing. Simpson and Rattle do not altogether exclude such a consideration, but in part perhaps they do.

Warmly supported by his London Symphony players here, Rattle found within his grasp good sense of ebb and flow through much of this symphony, with almost always good notion of what direction overall the music is headed. Without bringing special attention to it, but especially notable for some of the most quiet, mysterious passages therein, the virtuosity of the LSO never left anybody in doubt.

Betraying moment or two of dull intonation from the strings, the first movement started off slightly tentatively. Moving into climactic crest to first theme group, Rattle began honing in on much detail in scaling proportions overall; at being so painstaking, he momentarily provoked several slips in ensemble. Element of mystery entered into better focus in making transition to sensitively molded, calibrated take on the sensuous second theme. Interweaving voicing became consistently febrile through varying interaction both times it appeared. Third theme group took about five or six measures to achieve good footing, and then relaxation with meandering subject, such as Bruckner conceived it, became very welcome.

Development or extended counterstatement (Essence of Bruckner - R Simpson) had Rattle cut moderately paced path through sequenced re-starts of motto chorale idea from early on, subtly expanding out its restatements. Yielding into transition to storm strewing reprise of first theme full climax, then out thereof was all very good, until moderately contrived, impetuous rush right before then lift added to terrible F Minor climax, weakening overall well grasped effect of coming off so wearily as happens next. For much wandering about through searching third group and building outcry of anguish alternating with despondent expression of resignation, Rattle lent a supple hand - all tight in focus toward ringing, magisterial conclusion.

Scherzo opening received deft, incisive pointing, but perhaps fastidious to extent this music’s demonic qualities, its stamping beat, got minimized - better this than making it chilly showcase of orchestral virtuosity. Letting loose at violent achievement of the minor dominant halfway through Rattle made intimidating, as he should; less maintaining rhythmic focus occurred two accelerandi Rattle too readily applied. Moderating rapid skip to open the Trio slightly minimized contrast from what preceded it; balancing for sighing consequent from the cellos though was scrupulous - supple allowing flute obbligato ample space toward making all his part speak expressively. Scherzo resumed on tighter rein than first time through. Recapture of some vehemence may have registered less assured than before, but all working toward most cumulative buildup finishing trek over much rough terrain.

Londoners then fluidly assisted Rattle in providing us eloquent, at times moving account of the Adagio finale. Watching 1978 video of Karajan doing the Ninth and then observing my notes on what Rattle gave it had me almost reckoning several very similar things to have transpired in both. Karajan, videotaped, definitely shows more involvement, engagement with this music than on cold studio recording made near the same time at Philharmonie in Berlin. With Karajan, one still somewhat picks up, live from Musikverein, a still near-obsessive need for control of sonority, to extent with Vienna of nearly smoothing out several of this music’s more striking dissonances.

Rattle – dry, matter-of-fact with Mahler Third Symphony Adagio very recently with Berlin - here from different angle, definitely provided more filling out. Two episodes midway through Bruckner Ninth Adagio, where one encounters striking cross-cutting sturm und drang between strings and brass, trumpets leading inversion in B Minor of introduction minor-ninth motif, and then where strings cut in on same motif midstream both got played thick to extent of missing optimum detachment of sonorities. Naively with Rattle, impetus of striving to get such right seems paramount. Still, Rattle, at whatever level of awareness, thereby made impression of holding this music out at slight distance removed - with what conflict to be engaged in a good several times during this Adagio.

Following instance, where violins and cellos exchange broad interval motif opening the Adagio, now over repeated hollow whole tone repeated interval in the winds, had strings flesh out deep angst infusing it all, with detachment of woodwinds underneath perfectly realized; Karajan muddies things by slurring the winds (with line headed nowhere). Steep climb was made to harrowing climax to resound forth.

Rattle waited for brightly entering trumpets, to achieve good focus to help open the Adagio Shape, focus to supple line, most everything, then became exemplary, sense of mysterious light infusing much - well before descending principal flute entering as though from afar to help make transition back to how the Adagio begins. Portamento then on yielding second subject sounded slightly applied from without. All carping aside, mostly for Rattle reckoning it aesthetic to apply distancing he has according to generally urbane sensibility expected, Rattle’s elegiac grasp of overall perspective was pleasing. If less than perfectly engaging of all proportions at stake. His Londoners here fluidly expressed, outlined majority thereof. Emotional simplicity, reserve of Rattle’s approach, if only thus far intermittently casting spells, ultimately most certainly did, as if to peer well over the horizon, toward locating fine resolve through this Adagio’s ebbing away - with principal horn’s quote of opening the Seventh eloquently making final say.

DR Kultur: Bruckner neo-expressionismus zyklus I. Jorg Widmann, Bruckner 5. DSO Berlin. Kent Nagano. Philharmonie, Berlin. 28.2.11.

2011-03-07T01:12:00.000-08:00

This program began mini-series of three last odd-numbered Bruckner symphonies, programmed together with works by living composers. The Fifth Symphony here got paired with two pieces by Jorg Widmann, the Seventh several weeks later by “Das Gehege’ - monodrama by Widmann’s mentor, Wolfgang Rihm, written on different subject than, but along compositional lines allusive to Schoenberg’s ‘Erwartung.

Much of the Bruckner became showcase to virtuosically display packed sonorities – in accentuating at saturated moments overtly, deeply clashing overtones – impetus too working toward making detached their ricocheting off each other. For his purpose – picking living composer who in fragmented manner has inserted miniature clips from the older classics – i.e. Beethoven Seventh in Con Brio – was in qualified sense apt. Hardly any quotation of ‘the classics’ cropped up in either work chosen here. Impetus for Nagano to do the Bruckner Fifth Symphony was similar to that of his mentor Pierre Boulez – likely heard with the Chicago Symphony several years back. A greater clarity and structural precision indicated as much – with modest nod toward grasping the deeply hieratic aspects of this work. With Nagano, one had to wait mostly until the finale to grasp any (derived) sense of exaltation.

Violist Igor Budinstein and composer on clarinet joined DSO for first, yet more recently composed, pointillistic, less opaque of two Widmann pieces - “Schatten – Polyphonie – Lichstudie II.’ Jostling about of almost exclusively three pitches – with Widmann starting off tonguing an A – A, major third up to C-sharp, eventual tritone up to D-sharp - started things off. Grope upward then made at best thinly harmonized cadence on A – except (as leap of faith) through perceived overtones. Moving about from it in quarter-tones merged with, added, two other most frequently repeated, central pitches similarly explored, manipulated. Snatches of phrase emerged from clarinet, solo flute duo, followed by further sound effects, snatches of jazz riff, decorated by light percussion. Such gesture supplemented wind players breathing into the keyholes of their instruments – buttressed by imaginative lower woodwinds’ obbligato.

Budinstein then brilliantly entered with elaborately varied bow-strokes - legato, martellato, spiccato alternatively overtaking each other – over lower strings obbligato. Toccata then opened the central portion of this fifteen minute work, switching, evolving from much manipulation of broken motif into more sweeping flourish of descending scale-wise runs, arpeggios – type of flourish occurring also in Armonica, but more densely packed therein than here. Interjections of very rapid upward runs, stabbing accent on chords, single pitches made for an ever increasingly mercurial play with light and color in a woodwind, light percussion dominated sonority. For contrast, perhaps for the effect of refracting light, Widmann would then broadly augment figuration in play.

Three, four voiced choirale in the strings assisted in buildup to C Major chord, to break apart into whispered harmonics with low register A Major third to resound from the two soloists. They have been already intermittently caught behaving very skillfully imitative of each other - their own tone colors, effects, sonorities - enhanced by light comments from DSO Berlin percussion. Broken allargando through heavily tenuto marked pitches buttressed a clear ascent into higher, ever growing aggregate of sonorities to ultimately an ear-splitting level. Mostly lower broken sonorities challenged developing broken motif on (mostly) solo viola – toward making final reach to a piercing high C-Sharp. It appeared possible Nagano might have been more engaged with ‘Schatten’ than with Armonica to follow, given the frequently open textures, overt rhythmic animation characteristic of ‘Schatten.’

Armonica (2007) proved the more textured, rhapsodic composition – premiered by the Vienna Philharmonic under Boulez – featuring here brilliantly adept Christa Schoenfeldinger on glass harmonica. (Boulez’s interest in German neo-expressionism seems newfound). Layering of half and whole tone dyads, melisma formed out of which to limn dense texture underneath becomes paramount here. Nagano often stressed citing melodic and harmonic motif to help define parameters embedded therein and characterize individually what colors infuse them. Arabesque introduced on piano and celesta gets mirrored, echoed by internal voicing throughout rich tapestry on display.

Interchangeability of both single pitch and clustered sonorities between harmonica and frequently wind instruments was telling – with, in addition, several electronc imitative repeat-pitch tremoli. Several trumpets cadenced two-thirds through Armonica on a brightly dissonant triad, then cut off for harmonica high and dry to echo them. Violins often high, placed back often on (half-) harmonics would gradually grope toward forming sustainable cantilena - often stifled by much else about. Freely entering concertato of winds beneath would contrapuntally supplement, develop effort.

As though to depict spirit straining to break free, Widmann’s mercurial inclusion of arabesque, especially on celesta, vaguely recalls the music of Bernd Alois Zimmermann. There was in subtler, more enveloped format play with light throughout, even to refract it during closing passages – getting past, two thirds through, pause in the music off muted strings dissonantly echoing E Major triad just accomplished.

This music included inhaling, exhaling wave like motion scattered throughout, while often accumulating, then quickly dissembling aggregates of dissonance, knowingly so. Rise and fall on cymbal clash underneath very first pitches to sound forth on harmonica starting this piece concisely intimated such. Descending scales, intermixed with descending diminished chord intervals prepared elaborate exploration of such device. All faded spectrally away to silence at the end, to at first seemingly establish central point of arrival on E lightly swelled on harmonica. Tone half-tone higher at the very end, recalled in the strings considerably earlier the first quiet major cadence in the piece, encompassing several octaves on just two pitches.

Varied dissociated states identifiable with Widmann’s music meandered into making presence felt during Anton Bruckner’s Fifth Symphony. Nagano had wonderful success with Bruckner’s Sixth Symphony at the BBC Proms six years ago in the drier Royal Albert Hall; two months earlier they had recorded it only near as successfully in the more diffuse Philharmonie. Intimate feel for the outdoors through the Sixth’s internally rich harmonic language, more prominently in London, became hallmark of both.

Replacing wooden Gothic cathedral on display before who wrote this Fifth Symphony came at the Philharmonie approximate reconstruction in steel and concrete. Displaced accenting, while not throwing things off completely, became fairly common, increasing one’s’ feeling of alienation. DSO Berlin here seemed to be making good stab here at emulating the Berlin Philharmonic under late-career Karajan – to perhaps showcase the bombast of doing so. Pardoning some overt rhythmic inconsistencies, this Bruckner Fifth was brilliantly conceived, executed, yet with altered mental picture in mind – for which it might cause an orthodox observer to perceive much heart.

Stoic reply from brass to ascending jagged figures all across provided measure of poise, grandeur for – above marked dynamic levels – a too projected introduction to the first movement. DSO strings infused first subject with fine angst within well sustained fairly broad tempo for Allegro to follow. Provocative was heavily marked detachment of antecedent portion of the second theme, each time, from more easily shaped consequents – slightly throwing one’s sense of balance off. Interlude led underneath by horns between its statement and reprise was warmer. Closing section of the Exposition conveyed the most character of anything thus far. Tremoli filling out closing lines sounded slightly more diffuse than warm.

Further effort toward strictly proportioning argument at hand further prevented thaw from emanating well during Development. Remindful of some vestige of humanity still at stake, ascending forceful dotted rhythm brass sounded loose in grip on pulsation under-girding their lines. For further projected voltage, increasing reach from behind became prominent for what remained. Stark preparation for the recapitulation abetted making stilted projected tremolo to accompany the first theme. Profile of third section became slightly exaggerated, but acclerandi to usher in Coda calibrated toward flutes entering well with first theme - brass then too slurred, projected to well emulate them

Second movement opened suitably austere. Descending solo clarinet sixth and sevenths consequents harnessed DSO strings from beginning to clip their parts. Noble line mostly characterized alternating second theme at least until brass rose to the fore to slur, turn epic repeat of the subject. Simplicity of returning first theme thus became disjunctive. – all then to turn unyielding with as a result violins only initially fulfilling, distinguishing numerous shifting harmonies. Stark dissonances for descending brass got understated, through largely streamlined, tempo marked, heavily slurred approach to much else. Pace for this Adagio seemed slower than it actually was.

Strings on subsidiary lines curiously managed cutting through brass to open a headlong accented Scherzo. Overall articulation was too unvarying for much character to emerge well, with strings bouncing down on Adagio consequent derived staccato, then for principal oboe especially and strings to halfway pick up laendler accenting to follow. Weighting, slurred dragging out of remainder up to where all recapitulates however became tedious. Restoring pacing to headlong emerged mildly forced or contrived. Scherzo reprise after more relaxed Trio had better internal lift applied to how it opened, but with things then quickly returning to how they had been before. Bucolic accenting in the Trio, initially halfway picked up, gratefully improved as it coursed along.

It took until getting Exposition underway for Nagano to find good footing for the finale. Due to good circumspection on his part, the finale, consummating the opening out of hypothetical cathedral in question, proved his most successful movement here Second subject began as open-air as well played as might any more bucolic passage of the Fourth; amply suffused strings in playing full out their extended consequents became slightly syrupy, thick.- but while maintaining good line and pacing throughout. First subject right before, on cellos, basses, was informed by ruddy tone and good swagger. Firm pace and accenting was set for framing, closing third subject, with extra reach from behind in the strings to heavily further anchor things – after threatening to come off previous subject streamlined. Chorale interlude to frame imminent large fugue resounded fully, solemnly.

Nagano then paced, balanced the fugue very well, but with strings showing, after thick slurring through running descant eighth notes, some strain. Larger picture remained in focus with precise, light pinpointing for tricky concertato, subtle harmonic shifts within Nagano almost managed building a non-arched crescendo exiting the fugue, then making rugged the transition off recapitulatory first subject over to second - starting off equally lithe as before, but pressed hard forward toward concluding it. . Making way through the rest, Nagano got slightly stumped by a couple of transitions among good handful – strings slightly too bright in the Philharmonie acoustic - all in sight of supplemented DSO Berlin brass blazing path to fully realized majestic conclusion

While fully adept on Bruckner – Nagano cut an excellent disc of the original version Third - his sympathies with the Fifth were less clear. He no doubt is in good company with other esteemed Brucknerians. .Impressive to me early on was an Ozawa performance for PBS ‘Evening at Symphony’ – my introduction to this piece. Seiji Ozawa, also mentor to Nagano, ranks high among most underrated conductors of Bruckner’s music. i I was intrigued then by the seemingly many out of the way, odd turns this music takes. ‘Evening at Symphony’, nothing commercial behind it, following legacy of Lynne Cheney style ‘reforms’, unfortunately went the way of all flesh.

More supple line, formal grasp will not sink Nagano’s Bruckner into emulating flaccid late-career Wand or Celibedache. Keeping unwritten and written parameters in mind – a modernist approach to Bruckner can still work. In keeping with such, the purposefully mostly unresolved descending gestures in brass nearly closing the Adagio, cutting across thin shafts of light groping inwards, should stand out somewhat more; fuller grasp of this music’s mystery however must first take hold. Much impressive still transpired here - if not always meaningfully so. The Fifth perhaps fits Nagano less well than several other Bruckner symphonies; this was hardly his last chance at it.

BBC: Urbane Mahler Third from Rattle - Philharmonie Berlin - 05.02.11

2011-03-01T02:32:00.000-08:00

What makes what one might esteem a performance of Gustav Mahler’s longest, most epic symphony, the Third, great? Mahler spoke of purpose of writing a symphony to create (afresh) a new world. No symphony better epitomizes this than his grandiose paean to nature - the Third Symphony. Herbert von Karajan was rumored during the early 1980’s to be about to attempt the Third, around time of twice recording the Ninth. Claudio Abbado instead became first music director of the Berlin Philharmonic to have on disc done so. His DGG account, replacing considerably earlier Vienna PO recording (DGG), was less finicky about attempt to capture all detail in this piece. Although it captures line and eventually good sweep for the final Adagio very well, the depiction of this piece’s colors is grayer, in part toward effort to better preserve and sustain line. Even while still somewhat slow, it maintains momentum better than happened in Vienna.

From Simon Rattle, much elaborate pointing of detail, coloration, balancing critically inherent therein was beautiful, especially during the opening three movements. And yet at nodal points returning state of nature from ongoing thaw back to frozen stasis - one picked up, dry, matter-of-fact the nagging sense of there being little fortitude toward effectively steering all forward – Rattle here maintaining a moderately leisurely gait. One with Pierre Boulez expects clinical objectivity throughout, but with him one can discern, especially while working with an orchestra, ironically enough, more sympathetic than the Vienna Philharmonic, what he prioritizes is important.

With Simon Rattle, however, such is unclear; it even makes it tempting to start with the Third Symphony’s finale, for once, except that this Adagio is no better than just one of the two most important movements in this work, so also on Rattle’s behalf, I hesitate. One noticed less with Berlin than from City of Birmingham (EMI) pressing need to overtly scrupulize the weight of accenting, length of held notes between horns and lower strings to open the first movement. Intent seems quite serious both times; as things would then ease up, one could then likely reckon all this passé. Except for mild impetuosity to rush forward early on and through brass entrances closing this section, calibration between sections, marked by incisive trumpet motto here all made apt toward building a good somber landscape. Past first thaw, trombone arioso continued firmly, toward stabbing crest to its lines, all accenting underneath very supportive, with percussion especially expert at marking rhythms, articulation. Reach down to low D in the basses, well inhaled, exhaled emerged measured and full.

Anticipation of ‘Spring marching in’ achieved through strings’ fugato emerged with deft precision and supple line, promising much ease and character for march to follow. Amidst much beautifully limned detail, a lack of sweep and of swagger through marking like ‘Schwungvoll’ through then phlegmatically handled accenting subtly belied that all here still might be alive. Transition back to ‘frost’ was again dry - extra oomph off of which sounded artificial. It took descending string tremolo to recapture good scale and atmosphere - almost too late. For lovely vocalized trumpet and trombone solo, arioso, illusion of achieving atmosphere with fine depth, encompassing myriad detail, emerged well – through heavily sighing English horn helping capture moment of stillness on earlier Mahler derived ‘Weh’ motif. Bucolic mirth heartily infused ‘the Rabble’, followed by naturally rapidly hurtling forth Storm – through fussily accented, but still accurate percussion. Beautifully prepared trombone arioso turned out very fine. Ample scale and character then recapitulated ‘Spring marching in’ – all toward very festive, albeit slightly rushed conclusion.

Flowery minuet intermezzo, in which ideal is to go mostly weightless received deft, elfin touch - varying hued light shimmering through its textures and arabesque – nothing encumbering anything. If Rattle achieved unqualified success on any single movement of this, here it was. Tone from principal oboe was suavely dark - Berlin strings remaining behind, then filling all out through lush refrain – for all again to freshly emerge Bouyant spring,. Mendelssohnian, for trio sections was ideal, with gusty breeze intermittently coursing through – even through trio of freely accompanying flutter tongued flutes above. Weeping on lightly descending high winds into Minuet’s first reprise turned all childlike, naive. Artfully delayed picking up of pace, reinforcing oomph for second trio section refrain, provided moment of earthy vigor. Same device hardly worked well in Birmingham earlier. Equally fairy-land, helping close all this, was plaintive duet for concertmaster (Guy Bruanstein) and principal flute (Emmanuel Pahud).

Merry woodland frolic inauspiciously opened main scherzo. Plaintive higher winds congenially took turns singing ‘Ablosung in Sommer’, over accompanying bird call. Beethoven Fifth parodying trio emerged wittily robust - with panoply of trills springing forth off hard plucked pizzicati – strings during engaging scherzo reprise turning randy, mixed with brass toward - timed better than in Birmingham - the awkward brass octaves descending run – all sylvan then upcoming retreating violins, high winds. Slavic pomp surged off preceding klezmer accents - for coda framing opening first posthorn episode. Its manner of trailing in then seductively took over - haloed violins aloft, warmly replying horns ideal. Brief wistful interlude wafted by, anticipating gently breezy violins’ tremolo guided scherzo reprise - klezmer goaded violins and winds acridly in ‘irdisches Leben” mode then seizing center stage. Slippery trio section fugato reprise however de-tethered pushed transition into passing recall next of fine posthorn episode. Mysterious ‘Nature call’ from horns got rushed - violins above dry, pedantic. Leisurely gait coming off this was fine – fearful perhaps that more thrust toward closing strongly might emerge disproportionate to glib coasting by right before.

Hesitant to sit more still, Rattle began Nietzsche movement with quiet, steady pulsation, but nagging sense of shallow depth. Nathalie Stutzman, aspiring to light and covered tone simultaneously began hooty and flat, waiting for her ‘Gib acht’s’ to find better intonation. Expert Berlin principal oboe upward portamenti, from others often emerging as ungainly squawk, sounded here positively lyrical, expressive - perhaps not such a misguided restoration of tradition after all. Violins entered warmly over horns for interlude, albeit lacking some definition for their lines. More focused, Stutzman, horns accompanying her, beginning verse two, restored to this music at last some air of mystery. Until bearing down on ‘Ewigkeit’, Stutzman made more freely expressive what followed – rapt concertmaster Braunstein right behind. Rattle then slightly rushed fleeting postlude, closing this out. Light bells and chimes illumined the start of the fifth movement - boys and women expressively blending, harmonizing their lines well. Stutzman, until slightly choppy at very end, sounded darkly expressive, stoically, nobly penitential. Light trailing up to shimmering conclusion was very apt.

Berlin strings began hymnal Adagio - moderately paced – with fine solemnity and resonance. Off back-phrasing of consequent to opening lines, line almost gave out regaining antecedent thereof. Febrile lean upward was expressively made to start first episode, but ill advised then sudden switch to foreground for first violins - all affected, vertically episodic. Much extended tenuti over repeated long pitch back into first theme also sounded affected, threatening again to break up overall line. Gentle reach from behind to continue was fine, winds then repeating first theme better defined than the strings, then re-entering at fore too heavily italicized. Reprise from Berlin principal horn, concertmaster of episode introduced by oboes earlier gradually restored simplicity, capacity for line to breathe. Anguished climax on ‘Weh’ emerged well, but in context of much matter-of-fact, slightly layered on. D Minor reprise of once more recurring first movement climax did so stodgily. Pedantry characterized much of what remained – glib over how dynamics had been planned out.

What Mahler may have intended came across curiously urbane, cynical perhaps; return to being reliant on bad Romantic tradition might better fill out things than occurred here. Much well observed detail likely had found poor soil – a stubbornness to yield to innate quality and ability to sustain much long term at all.

The weightlessness of such Mahler appears, in eschewing notion of hearing overtones - sostenuto impetus expected to emanate – as more one arriving from a learned aestheticism than that of a neophyte. One thing should a BBC orchestra’s Mahler sound like this, but yet another should it be the Berlin Philharmonic Here seemed to have merged a British urbane reticence with a Semitic asceticism partly removed from its moorings – stoicism. angst informing Otto Klemperer’s distinctive Mahler most of all.

Plethora of detail masterfully calibrated into semblance of oneness from Rattle revealed an expertise that, working with Berlin, may only keep a handful of peers. It perhaps is very strong purist conceit to not be able to listen to music older than Brahms, barring adherence to historically informed, ‘period’ practices - denying that music should carry any (spiritually) transcendent quality. However with little to replace it, it could be said to be like attempt to find luminous the appeal of taking stroll down a Manchester or Liverpool road on a chilly gray day – to be satiated only by occasional ray of sunlight.

Might’ve we here not traded in one banality for something equally bland, milque-toast?

classicfm: LA Phil/Dudamel Bruno Walter commemorative Mahler 9 at the Barbican - 28.01.11

2011-02-22T01:53:00.000-08:00

The Los Angeles Philharmonic toured Europe with fifty years commemorative of making classic Bruno Walter recording of Gustav Mahler’s Ninth Symphony with the Columbia Symphony Orchestra – ensemble comprised then of much L.A. Philharmonic personnel. Sessions were held January 16th, 1961; Gustavo Dudamel showcased the work in Disney Hall on same date this year.

Tempos in particular for the first three movements were similar to those used then by Bruno Walter. The Adagio was the sole exception – especially in mind of Walter having moderated his tempo for the final Adagio from how he conducted it for his Anschluss era Vienna recording. It took not until Bernstein’s Amsterdam recording – among several slowest on record (with Levine’s two) but instead until Roger Norrington for Bruno Walter’s earlier tempos to very nearly be recreated – the swiftest on record – for which Arnold Schoenberg probably called Walter a coward. One reckoned Bernstein might serve partially as Dudamel’s model for this early stab at Mahler Nine. Bernstein was dissatisfied with CBS compelling him to keep length of his Adagio down to 23 minutes - two minutes more than Walter in 1961, nearly five more than 1930’s Walter.

Dudamel has had dicey luck with Mahler thus far. His DGG Fifth with the Simon Bolivar strains for ability to grasp form – lessons learned from which, I suspect he applied here. Dudamel’s inaugural Mahler First with Los Angeles missed nearly all the simplicity behind its inspiration – with tendency to distend phrasing to disproportionate lenghts, plus the fussy quality about it all. It missed what subtle nuance can best serve indicating how the Mahler First Symphony points forward as well. With Verdi Ernani, Lombardi store greater perils for the unwary than do Otello, Don Carlos, Falstaff.

Broad approach to the Ninth’s (supposed) profundity and fuss over less essential detail was less problematic here. Mahler’s Ninth presents some of his most open, exposed writing of any numbered symphony of his since the Fourth. It also hearkens back to emotional subjectivity of the earlier symphonies - after the more objectively conceived Ruckert – with the Ninth fourth within (broken) line of purely orchestral symphonies.

This was for sure a young man’s Mahler - Mahler not very deep into middle age when he composed this. The love of life, love of Nature it expresses is in part still that of a young man partly unwilling to let go. Dudamel kept the temperature slightly cool in approaching this music - somewhat in his still having a tentative feel for it overall, thereby a desire to be prudent, but also, welcome, most engaging of all with its lyricism. .Mistakes certainly became, during some of the Andante comodo, frequently obvious, plus some intermittent through the three remaining movements. Here is still work-in-progress interpretatively, but one also perhaps fully on its way to fruition. Some of the coolness or, if you will, objectivity may be due in part to both a still slightly thin quality of Los Angeles PO strings, but also the dryness of the Barbican acoustic. An airing of this interpretation from Vienna’s Musikverein might tell us more.

Subdued air pervaded the ‘Lebwohl’ opening – understated irregular pulsation underneath and falling quality of main thematic motif – gently filled out by slightly distraught warm glow. Eventually‘ leidenschaftlich’ characterized D minor theme started off with clear direction, then to have Dudamel fuss over minor crests in continuing line thereof, also turning filled out return of varied ‘Lebwohl’ (in D Major) slightly flaccid. Forward, light projection of ‘leidenschaftlich’ underpinned Exposition closing section, then momentarily making all curiously sound slightly weightless, but simultaneously finding something both naïve and refreshing within lift to overall line. Slight clipping of ‘irregular heartbeat’ on octaves put things slightly off, but then surfaced sufficient profile to nobly frame suitably restrained viola section lament.

Impulsivity lightly seized transition into weightlessly trumpet fanfare marked Mit Wut (and nicht zu schnell) that Dudamel firmed up with nodal point from doubled brass therein – then to let all slide away limber. Tricky proportioning out of imminent, truly marked ‘Leidenschaftlich’ became loose. Exchange of bi-tonalities on ‘Lebwohl’ got underlined well, but brief ‘schattenhaft’ to follow slightly picked apart. All to follow into climax to the Andante comodo flowed by - perhaps as though all easily achieved.

Dudamel could have been facing serious issues, had the movement almost ended there. For instead what happens, one began to sense Dudamel’s hearing past this point. All broadened out beautifully for weighted cortege entering from afar. Full orchestra broke off without fuss for beautifully shaped flute, concertmaster, horn solos. Key location throughout here was Dudamel’s just slightly rushed ‘Etwas belebter’ utterly spot-on – next to Lenny’s distended, deconstructive taffy pull - both in anticipating it and making the release. All then without bathos melted into clear, then fading away blues - almost as though to make one forget ‘multitude of sins’ encountered earlier.

Moderately broad in pace, strengthened thus, the ‘laendler scherzo started off with heavy marked rustic gait, knowingly, not self-consciously so, allowing this music’s charm and banality speak for itself – even while leaning hard on repeatedly inflected accompanying brass. First go at second laendler could have afforded heavier downbeats but all landing hollow, right on brass and timpani. Dudamel waited until later reprise of gentle ‘Lebwohl’ F Major laendler to linger over it more than matter-of-fact – indicating growing sense of mastering the art of omission alongside that of commission. Variation on somewhat already the ‘wrong-note reprise of Laendler II Dudamel momentarily had his horns accompany with a most comical slurp, impossible not to have tickled the funny bone.

Drawing out of transfigured colors its harmonic shifts turned poetic extended F Major laendler (reprise), making one indeed reflect upon Columbia Walter’s better virtues. Preparation of ‘dance is over’ solo bassoon reprise of Laendler I was fine, with earthy reply from woodsy solo viola, winds, concertmaster, followed by strong elan and heft for genuinely invested gutsy started mid-phrase Laendler II reprise. Following very intentional gaffe several minutes earlier came, equally witty, big unintentional one, on rushed restart of Laendler I, de-tethering just about everything – so much fun – with recovery very quick. Pulsation through low thudding perfect fifths beneath, dark ruddy color and macabre effect all about - purposefully, ironically including odd bow noise from the concertmaster - sardonically, ideally helped bring this scherzo to a close.

Strong parody, irony emerged more the intent with Rondo-Burleske than banal virtuoso display Other than slight thinness in the strings - Dudamel most attentive to achieving good accenting - the character of this music, taken moderately fast, came off fresh. Solo strings cutting through rustically klezmer parody of Third Symphony got sharply etched – follow through on lower winds’ voicing, marking also thoroughly characterized. High wind’s running preparation of main subject reprise was acrid, with dry reprise of further distorted march also spot-on. Trio opened with decent simplicity, especially as limned from aloft by the violins. Luminous buildup to the climax to developing its main idea became also slightly understated – through warm harp glissandi. Reprise of main section was more straightforward than fierce, with light pointing of strings led ‘operetta’ episode palpable, Accelerando by trumpet was slightly impulsive - utter enjoyment of everything in place of making display again paramount, with merry romp through lower brass toward concluding cadence of perhaps more lift than usual vehemence.

Dudamel framed opening the Adagio with strong lean on its unisons, but avoided sinking line by observing following internal separations well. .Pace was very slow overall, but did not feel it much except for C-sharp minor episodes. Several big crests to the line got understated, perhaps one or two slightly deflated – sign of inexperience but also already strong opinion on where more important emphases should lie. Probably nothing about this entire Ninth more took me aback, conducted by Dudamel - much heart-on-sleeve having been expected instead. Quieter sections of this Adagio were such for which Dudamel opened wide most frequently well calibrated space for them to project their deeply meditative quality, vernal shimmering lights in higher reaches – to recall the ever blossoming, renewing quality of much within ‘Das Lied.’ Others, certainly Bernstein’s first try at the Adagio make afterthought of these passages for great ‘wailing wall’ of obvious big refrains, but not Karel Ancerl – now hardly Dudamel either.

Reach toward large climax, through subtio piu mosso (marked Nun etwas drangend) was flexibly impulsive - Dudamel then gently applying the brakes for four descending big notes into starting the recapitulation. At similar crest in tutti minutes before, he eschewed over-emphasizing this for how more charged he could make large reach without forcing it, toward it all cutting off. Anguished high violin’s A natural - intense from Otto Klemperer - got mildly understated toward good, mature impetus lyrical shaping of entire line overall. Dudamel failed to quite open ‘Adagissimo’ final page slower than body of this Adagio – final show of naivete then some excessive lingering over this music’s ultimate fading away.

This interpretation of Mahler’s Ninth still has some ways to go - not to fall back on more conventional solutions, but instead perhaps to even take several extra risks. Most moving here seemed both Dudamel’s very close scrutiny of the score and amount of heart and imagination, if not surplus of intellect he has invested into thinking it out. With Los Angeles Philharmonic instead of with orchestra back home with which Dudamel can often rehearse over twenty hours each program he conducts, even with what mistakes, naivete present, this is the best I have yet heard Dudamel on anything – versus Dudamel the primed, pumped fawned over pawn of nefarious marketing forces active, omnipresent today. How much this aspect of the business he can put aside may well determine how he can prevent himself from ever again cheapening other repertoire - and then perhaps make great strides.

NPR: NY Phil/Alan Gilbert. Karita Mattila. Compelling reflexive pairing of Beethoven and Nordic world. Sibelius, Nielsen. Avery Fisher. 29.01.11

2011-02-17T08:19:00.000-08:00

Music of Beethoven split this program with that of Sibelius and Carl Nielsen. Partly to complement the progressive character of the Nielsen Second Symphony, Alan Gilbert favored a big-boned, even heroic approach to the somewhat deceptively modest Beethoven Eighth. Though more naturally yielding for its second theme, opening statement of the affirmative opening idea got slightly gunned toward invigorating all to follow, strongly driven. Double dotted rhythms anticipating gentler second idea got executed with stalwart rigor, to be consistent with such way of doing the Eighth. Gilbert also flexibly shaped transitions coming off the second theme, with their rustling tremoli in the strings right underneath, yet followed by crudely hatcheted closing idea.

Yielding again as Gilbert was coming off of this and its repeat, his shaping of the Development section turned out most apt, central fugato buildup thereof simultaneously flexibly handled and infused with fine strum und drang toward propelling all forward. Principal clarinet, reflectively on opening theme, opened coda pliant, off hammered close to the recapitulation – toward very confidently concluding the first movement.

What worked well for the first movement worked less well for the remainder of this Deft ironic wit to the Malzel Allegretto, on which Philharmonic winds were less stiff than the strings, went missing, by dint of mostly strictly marking time from the podium. Heavy, stolid leaning on opening to the Minuet was good, but oddly there was no coming off as line in the first violins carried on just about equally stiff Excessively underlined accents on timpani and on trumpets, vulgar, layered over the musical rhetoric an extra layer of irony; rustling accompanied well phrased duo of French horns for the Trio revealed much more the right idea.

Violin section tremoli to open the rapid finale emerged ragged. Poise got recovered for second theme, as expected, but rhythms for first theme derived subject for fugal writing in the Development turned at once slightly pressed and flaccid. Longer, extended phrases of secondary development Gilbert provided fine breathing space; working toward nagging impression of a certain lack of charm by and large however was continuing incidence of strain from the violins.

Finnish soprano Karita Mattila then appeared for first of two major selections – the concert aria ‘Ah, perfido’ – in effect study for Leonore in Fidelio – by Beethoven. After abrupt start by Alan Gilbert, Mattila made noble, but curiously arched profile of ‘this piece’s opening recitative – not to mention the expansive, psychologically shifting emotional landscape it covers over period of just several minutes. Mattila attempted compensating for middle through lower middle range having developed some hollowness, by placing back and darkening color beyond what is natural. Her grasp of the emotional terrain that Metastasio’s heroine covers, with all hue and nuance in place, was never in doubt. Maintaining free flow through this, inculcating so very much, was, however. Strained high A at crest of ‘Vedro la mia vendetta’ limned fully achieved ferocity thereof to contrast with warmly, firmly achieved legato for closing line of ‘Per lui vivea, voglio morir per lui’ – even with emotion so distraught, on verge of tears within.

Phrasing continued equally specific through aria to follow, albeit with much placing back compromising the legato and tubular production of engaging reaches into higher register doing the same. Expressive lightening of the tone and of phrasing provided relief – motivated by this singer’s completely achieved musicality and very psychologically worked out response to this aria’s text. Somewhat heavy underlining of slow refrain portion of the cabaletta – all though very sincerely felt – contrasted with awkwardly placed good attempt at lighter tone to take on ascending, descending runs – causing slippery intonation. The combined flexibility and courage to take on this repertoire, combined with complete musical and dramatic grasp of what is at hand helped very well obscure what has always been with Mattila a slightly faulty technique. Even with that less possible now, one can not help slightly getting caught up with Mattila’s thorough engagement with what she sings.

Gilbert, warmly supportive of Mattila through the Beethoven, found more common ground with her on selection of three Sibelius songs after the break. Apparently some artistic partnership, revolving around not quite exclusively Nordic repertoire formed during Gilbert’s handful of years directing the Stockholm Philharmonic. Enveloped by fine atmospheric sense from Gilbert and the Philharmonic and informed by Mattila’s very intimate feel for the text - poetry by Rydberg (in Swedish) the source - sense of mystery to encompassing Hostkvall (Autumn Evening)’s expansive lines got compromised by vocal problems. This was true through melismatic line to sing of softly falling silvery rain formed from gloomy realms of misty cloudland above (translation: Rosa Newmarch) that Mattila approached by tubular means instead of floating it – up eventually through an unsupported high B natural and slippery intonation overall. This song, my notes tell me, was composed for the charismatic Finnish diva Aino Ackte.

Coming next was Arioso, also string accompanied, like all three songs here to Swedish text. Pained sense of rapture lost on climactic line to this – Gossens aga ar dass vardag – with its wide (almost Kundry like) jump from a high A down to low D-Sharp drew impassioned response from Mattila, though preceded by too unvarying, bearing down an approach to make yielding transition to it well. The heroine of Arioso unfavorably, naively compares her destiny to that of a wilting flower she observes for her distraughtly having to concede to family loyalty over desire for the youth at the very center of her life.
Gilbert provided accompaniment sumptuous, but slightly cool, with in mind attempt to assist Mattila toward saving voice. For such thick production, one could suspect some lack in genuine warmth – remindful of Tatiana Mattila sang at the Met two seasons ago, also short on conveying innocence.

The brief ‘Varen flyktar hastigt’ dealing with fleeting character of a Nordic spring, making it a time for (equally fleeting) love - winsome waltz step to it - freely invited Mattila to lighten up some – opportunity for which she halfway took advantage, yet transition from minor to major mode Gilbert himself made detached. Fortunately, Mattila recorded these songs at the peak of her powers - with Sakari Oramo (for Virgin Classics).

Alan Gilbert, in having provided us a Beethoven Eighth in bold strokes, even in bringing out something of a driven, hectoring, even quite irascible quality beneath its sanguine surface, was perhaps thinking of the Nielsen with which to close this interestingly chosen program. Neilsen spoke of the different moods or temperaments in human experience in his ‘Four Temperaments’ (Symphony No. 2), of at times their overlapping each other; Nielsen’s music reflects this – least so in the intermezzo second movement devoted to the ‘phlegmatic’ – portion of this Gilbert has singled out as particularly charming. Nielsen’s manner of painting in primary colors, for more fully orchestrated passages - in giving the brass much prominence - finds a true advocate in Gilbert.

The strong attitude with which Gilbert opened the first movement certainly made the case. Slight clipping of abrasive accents and cut-offs became suspect and a hard pressed quality of the playing turned things monochromatic against being made better internally reckoned harmonic changes. Supple expanding out of oboe led second theme and of later retransition for less heavily accompanied concertato of winds also got encouraged very well. Strings strained to be heard through crest of their lines for tightly negotiated fugato over loud brass during the Development – equally due to thin unison high scoring for violins as perhaps any indiscretion on Gilbert’s part. While yielding well to this music’s episodic lyricism, the forthright character of the music making here, perhaps slightly peevishly, complemented well how Nielsen himself depicts the choleric mindset or temperament. Gilbert in taking a forthright tempo prudently withheld excessively pressing the Philharmonic past where they could clearly maintain upholding this music’s demarcations - how they frequently boldly articulate the form.

Following supple trailing off to end a very forthright first movement, the indicated phlegmatic ‘waltz’ of the second movement, as perceiving it two-dimensionally, came off quite well – though slightly devoid of charm or of, if you will, Nielsen’s harmonious melos to depict a lighter naïveté. Trio section that began quite strictly marked, eased up well toward achieving better lift and shape, eventually ambling toward return of main section.

Gilbert, to frame starting the Andante, tried making the case for plumbing its ‘melancholy’ depths – in how he had strings dig right in, early on. Appoggiatura laden, plaintive reply in oboe, picked up, well characterized by other winds promised good opening out of further rhetoric. The playing here took on a more settled quality, more richly hued, more flexible than heard earlier in this or than in the Beethoven. Violins immediately made flexibly singing line out of continuing lines from the woodwinds. Good chamber music was made of principal flute introduced episode in major key – continued by Judith LeClair (bassoon) and Philip Myers (horn) before tensions bottle up toward stern reprise of opening this movement. Gilbert’s leaning on thicker scoring to follow well took into account deeply harmonized chromatic spelling in the brass. Gilbert spoke of an Elgarian quality to the writing here – to perhaps explain his bold strokes to limn its nobility, pathos – deep in colors of twilight. Broad expanding out of opening material played once more maintained well in focus overall distraught mood to the end.

Except for while intermittently competing with onslaught from the brass, violins displayed good vigor, putting on the ‘sanguine’, to start the finale. Gilbert continued equally at ease with all here as with the Andante. Full chordal nterjections, interrupting several lines seem to anticipate passage out of the second half of ‘Elegy’ from Bartoik’s Concerto for Orchestra. For two minute interlude to slowly muse, reflect upon more doleful terrain earlier covered, Gilbert, with fine voicing through Philharmonic strings achieved good simplicity. Further enhancing swagger with which the finale opened, the coda, changing up the rhythmic shape of opening material, indeed came off here somewhat Elgarian, but all with hearty spirit infusing all, very confident of this music.

HGO - Youth informs both vocal leads, podium for Lucia di Lammermoor in abstract new production. Albina Shagimuratova. 05.02.11

2011-02-09T23:24:00.000-08:00

Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, last seen downtown in 2002 and 1994 – starring Tiziana Fabbricini (opposite Marcello Giordani) and Laura Claycomb respectively, marked for Houston Grand Opera its second of two new productions to grace the Wortham this season. This also marked quite an important role debut, that of Russian soprano, former HGO studio artist and Tchaikovsky Competition winner Albina Shagimuratova, and also then the HGO debut of Greek-American tenor Dimitri Pittas (remembered from Met in HD as the tearfully plaintive Macduff in fine new production of Macbeth several seasons ago). Antonio Fogliani, with fine dvd (previously Emerging Pictures presentation) of Maria Stuarda from La Scala to his credit (starring Mariella Devia and Anna Caterina Antonacci), made his HGO debut conducting Lucia.

John Doyle, with more theater and Broadway than opera to his credit, for most pacing of this Lucia, laid out on a chilly abstract set, tended most of the way to tread lightly in depicting action on stage, motivations of characters involved, etc. The stage, apart from props of a couple of chairs, long table for the wedding scene, merely consisted of large wide panels or flats of murky, cloudy atmosphere – sitting at both straight and tilted, at times oddly tilted angles – as in part to symbolize a rigidly repressive quality to Scottish society – and the arbitrary murkiness of it all to come to grips, so to speak. What appeared to be nefarious contractual dealings would be seen ensuing mostly on narrow opening to stage rear over to stage left – more insightful than meddlesome. Very stiff, stylized procession of bridesmaids decked out in gray upstaged Raimondo both toward end of the ‘letter scene’ to start Act Two and midway through the tomb scene – as Scott Cantrell of Dallas Morning News found mildly risible. Also, characters interacting with each other tended at times to stand implausibly very close to each other, for situation at hand, relationships to portray. Such most often can not, on terms of emotional or physical intimacy, be plausibly assumed to be better than guarded.

The overall brooding quality of the sets and simplicity of design thereof most certainly did not rob the drama but little of its power or dynamic. Costuming, while mostly drab or abstract, abided well by historical accuracy standards; formal jig danced on stage early on in Act Three, Scene 2 (that before the Wolf’s Crag scene got restored had been Scene 1) was tasteful, but squeezed all a little tight by pressing accents from the orchestra pit, for it presumably not to linger a moment too long.

Still obviously new to singing the part, Albina Shagimuratova made a modest, humble waif type of creature out of Lucia. One writer has quipped already that she dramatically portrayed little of the mental instability of the character – that is, until her final scene on stage, the celebrated Mad Scene, for which the Doyle production suddenly became eccentrically elaborate, in comparison with earlier scenes. As Maria Callas knew full well, most of the insanity depicted in the part should come through the voice, inflection of the musical lines – as in context of when, in which aesthetic Donizetti wrote this opera, any excess of flailing about is bound to look very silly. Fortunately, Doyle and Shagimuratova readily stopped readily short of going over the top with any of the kind.

Shagimuratova had the requisite agility, evenness of line, sweet lyric timbre, mostly secure top to be reckoned quite an interpreter of Lucia – and certainly some real nuance, musical sensitivity for how Donizetti composed it as well. Moments of emotional immediacy with the text, especially at key moments during Act Two, were telling – all that could have been picked up from week of intensive coaching up in New York with Renata Scotto. And yet there here that seemed something altogether held back about her work dramatically - and in this particular instance placed under certain stylistic constraints to presumably fit in well with all else going on.

Legacy perhaps also of having worked with Scotto was a certain thickness that could occur around the break, making for especially during rushed ensembles toward end of Act Two a shrill, sharply tuned approach to acuti (high notes). A greater allowance for flexibility, including from the orchestra pit was necessary here toward ensuring Shagimuratova the best legato shaping of her lines, even individual profile thereof, but that for her opening aria in Act One and Part Two of the Mad Scene did not quite happen. She instead sounded constrained from filling out her lines with the requisite emotional weight and coloration (much leniency still available to do so without distorting proper shape to her lines, stylistic properties thereof).

Part One of the Mad Scene, in which Shagimuratova was eventually given all space she needed, freed her up to color numerous lines with half-lights, thereby to contrast much variety of shape and color very tellingly – all that worked a spell for as long as it would last over the entire hall. This was true, even with playful, even slightly witty distraction of making bridal train out of tablecloth previously covering length of very long rectangular table to represent nuptial festivities on stage, getting her hands smeared with blood, and then 9as thanks to Scott Hendricks for singing their duets together non legato with her?), smearing her stained hands on him. Fluently, most expressively sung cabaletta to her big scena in Act One was also enthralling. In scene with her brother near start of Act Two, one picked up a telling response to individual lines, only for cabaletta especially therein to have become too streamlined as well. With caution heeded as to how to better manage the break and making shifts, this could soon be an interpretation of Lucia to reckon – certainly not dependably surpassed thus far by either Netrebko or Dessay in still relatively new, cluttery Mary Zimmerman production at the Met.

Dimitri Pittas made a dashing figure of Edgardo, if not quite the harried, fraught profile or intensified as such vocally. The indeed fraught qualities of Edgardo’s plight were evident, but perhaps in manner hard to distinguish from that of anybody else much, glib this way, for both the natural lightness of timbre – and as especially toward end of Act Two, being rushed through rendered shapeless Act Two sextet and what follows. Expressive ardor for Lucia was genuine. With ‘assai’ part of Moderato assai’ well observed, but for genuine rubato, shaping thereof, the sempre legato missed, Pittas was equally at glib loss as much as Shagimuratova during a strictly weighted ‘Verranno a te’ moderate paced cabaletta ending Act One. One left for intermission without having picked up grasp of the rapt intensity written therein.

Worrisome about Pittas himself was some constriction right zeroed in around the break that for much of the evening he had trouble freeing himself – except with how he beautifully caressed his lines for ‘Fra poco a me ricovero’ near start of the Tomb Scene. Such relaxation allowed the listener to wrap oneself with ease into the noble profile of Edgardo’s lines and of emotional situation to the fore. Moderato marked cabaletta to this made case for pressing too much forward from the pit, thus for numerous constricted F-sharps from Pittas for not being allowed what is really indeed Edgardo’s space for shaping his lines. Whether the motivation was making 10:30 pm deadline or maintain things within chokehold of purist constraints or both should most likely remain a mystery. Suitable tone of defiance with swagger for lines to sing during the Wolf’s Crag scene Pittas made ring out well. Never was any sincerity in doubt, neither for the most part the musical sensitivity of this still young artist.

Scott Hendricks made moderately short (in stature), stocky appearance as the villainous Henry Ashton, good snarl and swagger of ‘Cruda, funesta smania’ and of some of Wolf’s Crag, but veered riskily close to coming up with stock villainy, mostly due to not being able to employ better than sketchy legato for his lines. Oren Gradus, of robust stature and voice, made a sonorous Raimondo - other than some of his extended range coming across mildly pitted or hollow, something he artfully attempted to hide with extra emphatic declamation during ‘Dalle stanze’, racconta to stunned wedding guests of what has transpired. The abstraction of this Lucia overall gave Gradus somewhat of a pass to settle for a stand up and sing rendition of the subtly duplicitous Raimondo, but he managed to make fine closing impression with his imprecation of Normanno for having been catalyst to tragedy unfolding – gravitas to horror expressed to Edgardo for his seemingly impulsive reaction to news of tragedy all about as well.

Nathaniel Peake looked dashing as Arturo Bucklaw, while hinting at wanting to shy away from F-sharps in his wedding arioso – without having to appear to be road kill for their being there – as has happened with stock casting of this thankless part at more famous houses than the Wortham. Beau Gibson was the astute, cleanly sung, purposeful Normanno, but with a few of his lines covered up by neighboring choristers, all handsomely profiled to near stage rear at opening of the first scene. Rachel Willis-Sorenson, newest among HGO studio members here made very handsome, supportive warm profile of Alisa and her lines. Choral preparation by Richard Bado left nothing to be desired.

Mention as aside to Fogliani here has stopped short of giving him the credit he deserves for his very smart shaping of the overall dramatic profile of Donzietti’s Lucia di Lammermoor. This was apparent right away with the confident giusto he employed with the opening, remarkably terse prelude to Act One that opens this, but also for stormy prelude to Wolf’s Crag as well. His ear for rich color and nuance to delineate form thereof is also fine, but likely expected from him of his forces here a little better weight from the lower strings of the Houston Grand Opera orchestra – remarkably lacking for ominously limning tremoli for to beckon by Enrico (into cabaletta to follow) for Lucia to join wedding festivities and to robustly accompany Edgardo crashing the party as well. Otherwise, this is the best the HGO orchestra has sounded here in perhaps several seasons.

Fogliani certainly could not be accused of any stodginess here, or of yielding to his singers’ thorough command of how all should be shaped to render his work that of a lifeless accompanist. However, what of the sublimely anguished turn in Lucia’s line during Mad scene cabaletta to minor subdominant on a high C-Flat that here got mercilessly shaved off to maintain consistently breezy pace through it?

In place of stodginess one had the sense of practically a definite compartmentalization of, detachment in negotiating musical proceedings, even remindful somewhat of a young Riccardo Muti – more so except perhaps for two moments than of Patrick Summers and his ‘period’ motivated approach to bel canto thus far. It is perhaps not to scrupulize, not to blow off the dust of tradition enough to mark with light (unmarked poco allargando) lift the crest of opening line to ‘Per te d’immenso giubilo’, but the swagger to inform animated triplets (to prevent them from turning stiff) to spin off from such then goes missing - and somewhat did so here – making for detached instead of sustained framing this choral interlude should provide.

The score here was presented unabridged, except just in part in interest of keeping the action moving, for cutting several repeats. The obvious fire in Fogliani’s approach, especially when not excessively sweeping other elements out of the way, made for a refreshing debut here – even though one might reckon a better filled out, more holistic approach to presenting all of Donzett’s Lucia di Lammermoor in new production such as just opened here.

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

2011-01-21T22:50:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2011-01-12T23:06:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2011-01-10T22:29:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2011-01-05T22:46:00.000-08:00

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.

Met (NPR): Tedium pervades slowly Nezet-Seguin led broadcast season opener - Verdi's Don Carlo. Solid leads from Giuseppini, Yonghoon Lee. 18.12.10.

2010-12-21T13:22:00.000-08:00

Peter Gelb certainly has an eye for what is trendy on different stages across the pond – but quest to find both a unifying and meaningfully diverse approach to staging opera at the Met proves elusive. Such is true in bringing Nicholas Hytner’s pseudo-naturalistic, half traditional, timid production of Don Carlo from Convent Garden to the Met.

Anthony Tommasini may find refreshing having this at the Met instead of “regietheater metaphorical nonsense” one can pick up from distinctive productions such as directed by Luca Ronconi (in sore need of revival), Peter Konwitschny, or Luc Bondy. Here, laid out against flat-dimensional phallic sized - take your pick - church, portrait of weeping Christ, monastery, we have portrayed a group of powerful people living during time caught up in the throes of religious fanaticism “feeling alienated from their inner selves.” Opening woodcutters’ chorus to open Fontainebleau that for only economy’s sake Verdi could have dropped is now no longer heard at the Met; in its place we have the standard 1886 beginning that inadequately replaces the original way Don Carlo(s) opened.

This is only the second opera, first Verdi opera for Yannick Nezet-Seguin to conduct at the Met – Nezet-Seguin now music director designate for the Philadelphia Orchestra. If impulsive, impetuous precocity is ideal hallmark for genius on the podium, Nezet-Seguin has it - much in spades. The Met orchestra, obviously allocated much time to rehearse this, sounded full and substantial just about the entire way. For one half of a surname looking, sounding French, most mystifying here was a thorough lack of the command of French rhythms literally just about throughout - for practically all passages therein affecting more of a galante style or pace than the rest – plus more than just those. Negotiation of such was altogether stiff. Nezet-Seguin stated in interview that he finds a Brahmsian feel to much of Don Carlo. There was indeed some reach-from-behind to much of this, as though much of Don Carlo might consist of hemiolas extending over bar lines. The weight however with which Nezet-Seguin infused much of the scene in the King’s private chambers and also exciting close to the Fourth Act made it his most successful of the entire afternoon.

As exciting an impression Nezet-Seguin made at the end of Act Four, one picked up too much a tendency toward over-emphasis earlier, for purpose of our not missing out on his personal stamp on proceedings. One place early on was the plea by impoverished French women out in the forest by Fontainebleau to Elisabeth in effect to concede her personal desires to the general welfare of bringing war to an end between France and Spain by marrying Philip for which Verdi marks an imperceptible slowdown and at which point Nezet-Seguin grounded things to a halt, robbing combined expression of thanks and needed relief of the full repose it should have – a most moving and most important passage, though brief – especially given harmonic relationships involved – the E Major for the balm of the prospect of the war ending a clear resolution of the supertonic of the womens’ pleas right before, but also a practically Schubertian Neapolitan to the opening chorus in E-Flat Minor a handful of episodes earlier we now miss. Monks entered so loudly at start of next scene to be perceived as entirely upfront and center.

Overworked accenting, underlining during first scene between Rodrigo and Carlo proved both distracting and interfering with both Yong-hoon Lee and Simon Keenlyside being able to sustain line well. Once into the friendship oath duet Lee began closely watching Nezet-Seguin toward engaging in too heavy underlining of his lines on several transitions – mistake in judgment he also repeated later on. Finicky pointing of accents for opening of the garden scene made almost blaring the sultry atmosphere that Verdi has preface the then here crudely accompanied Veil Song. Unyielding accompaniment to dialogue between Rodrigo and Eboli accompanied by sotto voce interjections from the Queen proved most inconsiderate of all three singers on stage. Though fine ear for color made itself evident during swooning episode (‘O prodigo’) from duet for Queen and Carlo, structure for most of the rest of this and for much of the duologue between Philip and Rodrigo to follow became incoherent. Confusing to the Eboli was making her jump over practically entire measure of rest to enter for second trio ending her set up audience with Carlo – joined by Rodrigo.

Underlined misplacing of accenting for the opening to the auto-da-fe scene – with chorus of onlookers thrusting crosses into the air in this staging to mark the accenting stood on verge of Pythonesque self-parody. A reviewer for BBC already commented upon the over-emphatic extra priest Inquisitor making final brutal interrogation of the heretics on stage (further dehumanized by the staging) reminding him of scene out of Life of Brian. Excessive pressure from podium rendered fatally episodic the Flemish deputies’ led concertato later in the scene – one further instance of insensitivity by Nezet-Seguin to his singers, and loud perked up percussive harp accompanying a radiant Jennifer Check (Celestial Voice) putting Verdi’s finishing touch on the auto-da-fe scene was vulgar to an extreme. Certainly, enthusiasm for task at hand had to have been infectious – the temperament for conducting opera is right – but way too many instances of where finesse was lacking indicated far too much inexperience to take on as long and interwoven complex a score as Verdi’s Don Carlo(s). A better trial for relatively untried youth on the Met podium would be Verdi’s Aida, even as full of traps it is for the unsuspecting. The damage done is less.

Marina Poplavskaya repeated her Elisabeth from opening of this production at Convent Garden under Pappano preserved on dvd and of revival thereof, disastrous for her, under Semyon Bychkov. Here, without restoring much confidence in her continuing to sing Elisabeth, Poplavskaya was more circumspect in hiding better where she was still taking excess number of breaths, still often constantly making her line choppy – with intonation already clearly being tenuous at best. The vulnerability of Elisabeth amidst the realpolitik of Escuriel re-emerged from being better evident during first run of this production across the pond – and foreign though intonation compromising color to her vocalism can still knowingly limn easier passages of this part. Some of the timidity now coming across as purely musical plus failure to (fully) sustain line for instance for ‘Non pianger’ or ‘s’ancor si piange’ during her great scena alone to open the final scene of this opera – even for her on-the-defensive arioso ‘Ben lo sapete’ reveals there not being enough here to sing Elisabeth, regardless how lovely Poplavskaya looks, for any major company, until some major issues get overcome - if that is still possible. For her welfare, both vocally and career-wise, one can only hope.

Simon Keenlyside, always having lacked the heft to take on some of Verdi’s demanding parts, has always been correctly esteemed to be a good fit for the Marquis of Posa, Rodrigo – but he has apparently hit a bad patch lately vocally, plus having walked the boards for the Hytner production with its incipient mannerisms long enough. He suffered probably the most of anybody from lack of support from an almost incurably self-attentive Nezet-Seguin – until a sensitively accompanied and sensitively well sung ‘Per me giunto in Carlo’s prison cell. He also contributed well to the quartet in the King’s private chambers and provided a moving “O Carlo, ascolta” with which to bring to a close his contribution here. Sadly, the lower middle of his range seems to suffer some disrepair, with low notes very dry and strained effort for the very upper end of his range now – all of which had Keenlyside resorting to chopping up musical lines excessively. Even so, the upper middle, near upper portion of his range still carried some sheen – including through passages of his lengthy audience with the King. Keenlyside is not the artist to entirely fail to win sympathy from his hearers for part such as Rodrigo. Eric Halfvarson, as Rodrigo’s nemesis, made it sufficiently known his knowledge and deep reckoning of his never placating text to sing – but compromised by wobble having overtaken the entire upper end of his range.

Korean tenor Yong-Hoon Lee made his Met broadcast debut as Don Carlo – certainly tricky for the occasion, but for which Lee showed genuine mastery most of the way. For such a lyric voice, there was some strain, bench pressing of key moments; other places he managed to coast free of excessive pointing from insensitive accompaniment – conspicuously well this way for ‘Tristo a me’ preceding friendship duet with Keenlyside. His deft shading of line with lovely achievement of head voice at top of the staff (including for opening scena through ‘Io lo vidi’) even here and there brought Carlo Bergonzi to mind – even including (though Bergonzi’s diction can not be faulted) some excessively dry Italian vowels – albeit keeping in mind that this opera was originally composed in French; it still too infrequently gets sung in French.

Though capturing Nezet-Seguin’s imagination at ‘O prodigo’ in Act Two, Lee got muscled into heavily bench pressing closing line to ‘Ma lassu’ with a thick toned Poplavaskaya at end of this duet – with Nezet-Seguin crudely bulging its barcarolle style accompaniment underneath. His resorting to shouting to end confrontation with Philip at the auto-da-fe was impulsive, but within this context so open, so unyielding to anything to have come off precisely right; moment of sobbing right after Rodrigo is shot also was heart-rending. Introspection, poetic sense, even neuroticism for key passages of Carlo helped Lee pull off a good qualified success at singing this enigmatic part, including fine sustenance of line on behalf of his colleagues for trios during Act Three.

Giorgio Giuseppini stepped in on short notice for Ferruccio Furlanetto - heavy pouting and dry vocalism of the latter that undercut his last appearance thereof at Convent Garden. It was highly welcome to have a Phillip less familiar with the Hytner production replacing him. Although perhaps second tier among ranks at La Scala and slightly dry vocally, Giuseppini brought a stoic grandeur to Philip, making better sense of the King’s frustration, and knowingly from Giuseppini despondency in assessing tight spot Philip finds himself in throughout Don Carlo. Giuseppini provided noble profile and shape his opening scena to Act Four through ‘Dormiro sol’– also moving his subtly acted pleading before the Inquisitor with hope for good outcome all lost, despondently so. His stern obbligato to the Flemish deputies’ concertato – not helped by fussiness from Nezet-Seguin, for momentarily having lost good placement sounded dry, even rough, but after a long break Giuseppini found his stride the entire rest of the way. Even if dry, slightly pouted on several lines, Giuseppini established himself a Philip to be reckoned with during duologue with Keenlyside. As far as having developed fine knowledge of this part and of idiom in which to sing Philip, Giuseppini led this cast.

Leyla Claire provided the eager, perky Tebaldo, Jennifer Check a radiantly sung Celestial Voice, Alex Tanovitsky a resonant, dignified but tremulous Frair. I save the best for last – Anna Smirnova as Princess Eboli. Except for marking during quartet in Act Four, passively helping make more of a trio out of it, here was something full-out in context of so much insipidly pointed, fussed over, underlined. No matter that unsteady support for upward extending sextuplets in the veil song verged close to completely derailing it, the ‘let’s hear it’ attitude became compelling, including fearlessly lunged for acuti in ‘O don fatale.’ This was stand-and-deliver for all the great bluster it was worth. Task of freeing Carlo from prison even for once sounded effective – except for fear of being overheard.

For tedium of this production now foisted upon us by the Met - when available from abroad presumably was Luc Bondy’s much better production, Smirnova could ultimately only be found guilty of being the very shot in the arm the doctor could have ordered. She even had Nezet-Seguin in palm of her hand for underlining of passionately (almost bawled) fervent pleas to Carlo to reconsider on repeated pitch E-Flat’s during in effect blind-date rendezvous to trap him. With so much fuss to bore most anybody with Don Carlo, a favorite of mine, Smirnova vouchsafed a place in my heart – for what must now suffice as an underwhelming start to the Met broadcast season.

DR Kultur - DSO Berlin. Christoph Eschenbach returns for generous, but heavy, effete Tchaikovsky fare. 12.12.10. Philharmonie, Berlin.

2010-12-16T22:39:00.000-08:00

Christoph Eschenbach his one occasion to conduct DSO Berlin this season accumulated luxurious amount of Tchaikovsky – 105 minutes worth comprising two most celebrated among handful of fantasy-overtures, plus two of three more famous from among six concerto works. Those familiar with Eschenbach’s Tchaikovsky can find it an interesting hybrid of conflicting tendencies.

There is striving for the big arch to the line along lines of Furtwaengler. This often gets mixed with control of sonority - zeroed in on to extent of turning rigid. Mixed in can be numerous finicky touches, underlining – such he might have learned from watching Leonard Bernstein. John Ardoin of the Dallas Morning News close to time Eschenbach accepted the Houston job described his approach to Romantic Slavic program with the Dallas SO that also included Francesca as calcifying.

Romeo and Juliet Overture opened – to altogether indeed best represent Eschenbach still being able to understate some of the above. Much of the playing here maintained a natural expressivity and flow that if not stirring was pleasant. Friar Laurence music opened with stately solemnity – with distension of reaching harp gilded cadences a little more than usual. Measured but throbbing phrasing in the cellos provoked extended pause before fight episode got underway - slightly too careful by half Fight here was tame., with brass dry, strings hardly more flaccid than usual. Much ado resumed over transition through bassoon, other obbligato into the balcony music.

Violins emerged sweetly luminous; winds sang main romantic theme with ease – all only encumbered by percussive touch mediocre harp playing – whoever insisted such accompanying communicate this way. Impressive for Eschenbach was starting reprise of fight music without enveloping it, but much rhetoric was made in making transition in and out of the love music for further skirmish. Only the coda then deflated matters, with excessive extension made out of so much, placement of chords right before its outset indecisive and winds’ refulgent chorale heaved over, massaged – just again a little more so than usual. Much got reached from behind for closing phrases – tone, expression of regret to it all garden variety expressing wish to last forever, but through following deflated chords of course could not.

The model for conductor’s interpretation here of Tchaikovsky’s First Piano Concerto - less that of soloist - is undoubtedly the Karajan legacy of conducting this piece. Karajan might not have anticipated lily gilded arpeggios accompanying the first theme (that really is not but what only survives introduction to first movement intact) consistent oddly with how the passage first got first written. What came across from Karajan individual continues to from Eschenbach willful, eccentric. Karajan was likely most smoothly effective with this on disc when Lazar Berman recorded it for DGG in Berlin circa 1975.

Karajan most likely had most distinctive on disc as soloist Sviatoslav Richter with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra fifteen years earlier. Richter accomplishes as much his own interpretation best heard with Czech Philharmonic conducted by Karel Ancerl (Supraphon). What sank this endeavor here was - brutally evident starting scherzo-like opening of the Exposition - the very brittle touch of Tzimon Barto – dotted rhythms awkwardly clipped in context of much slow pacing here. Restatement in rapidly alternating octaves was messy – to resume similarly much later.

DSO Berlin strings phrased ardent second theme naturally, but Barto by back-phrasing made it sound suitable to hear in a comfy smoking lounge. More editorializing to point of being silly recapitulated it later. Normal tempo then resumed for cellos on the simple flute theme expected. Barto pointed developing arpeggios through resumption of main second theme with considerable ping – with loud crunching thud on lowest chord while playing development thereof. Coming off athletically prefigured chains of descending octaves, answering willful detached speed-up to highlight the display, massage treatment got predictably underway to continue the Development. Barto’s final extensions out of second theme almost grounded it to a standstill – followed soon thereafter by heavily regrouped cadenza – with flute trios, Barto accompanying strings on ‘flute theme’ regrouped and messy, followed by Barto making heavily phlegmatic reach, picked up too this way by DSO brass - for final tutti.

Prinicpal flute Thomas Hecker put forth valiant effort to avoid line sagging – following one of the (erratically) slowest first movements on record – over string pizzicato (helping prepare Barto) lacking pulsation to extent of registering aleatoric. Ah, deconstructionism. Barto and Eschenbach half deceptively made interpretation of the first movement seem more soloist’s than maestro’s, but Barto achieved his first musical phrasing of the evening, starting the second movement – still all moving slowly. Andreas Grunkorn (cello) sustained eloquently singing the main theme – within such obtrusive environment. Scherzo episode, taken moderately instead of fast got heavily fussed over to full extent– brittleness from Barto again paramount – until freely descending arpeggi back into oboe resuming main theme more fussed over than as previously heard.

Barto perceptively caught the peasant character to dance opening the finale – Eschenbach scrupulizing right beneath. Barto emerged more naturally engaged for music to speak for itself than earlier - than having to endure continual fussiness from the podium – mediocre tentative ensemble through winds accompanying his runs. Barto, intermittently also getting waylaid into fussy playing - clipping main theme to breathe new urgency into proceedings at one point – later shed all reserve for show of naked athleticism with ugly tone over stream of octaves - into final full-throated reprise of romantic second theme.

Thirty year old cellist Dmitri Maslennikov, who Eschenbach has clearly enjoyed promoting for some time now, appeared next. Among three thus far playing Tchaikovsky’s Rococo Variations reviewed on these pages, Maslennikov elicited the most fully rounded tone– especially as compared with Steven Isserlis. He made noble profile of the theme, then light, sprightly his bounce of bow over triplets for first variation. Eschenbach, self-consciously hesitant for segue in(to) the rhapsodic third variation and abetting Maslennikov to make gratuitous spotlighting of rapid spiccato scales up and down the fingerboard in variation right after, maintained decent poise and support for his soloist through most of the remainder of this piece. Maslennikov, unencumbered, provided flowing line, near ideal simplicity through the slower third variation, but got abetted into excessively arching ascending trills into flute led theme reprise making up the fifth variation. A valiantly engaged unusually extended cadenza followed - entirely new or slightly more likely one just seldom these days taken on by anybody else.

Opportunities to arpeggio in half-harmonics, other device enticed Maslennikov again into becoming while freely capable, gratuitous with such. He then settled into making noble shape, restrained pathos of the slower D Minor variation – with much lingering over the accompaniment at a few spots from Eschenbach. Once into finale to the variations, Maslennikov then efficiently but also expressively coasted, played through it, hardly missing anything. Most memorable here was the well rounded tone and profile Maslennikov provided this piece, especially when no artifice in the way to distract him.

Francesca da Rimini succumbed to sounding careful – often compartmentalized in ways one might not have suspected before, except to have listened to either one of Eschenbach’s two recordings – actually on first disc he ever recorded in Houston (paired with Dvorak Ninth). DSO Berlin became most prudent to avoid covering up too much the strings on main agitated theme (hopefully) driving this music forward for its outer sections. Trumpets especially applied good separations to repeated notes – of which John DeWitt & Co in Houston were not fluent at doing when they recorded this. Eschenbach was found - tendency one wishes he could have abandoned long by now.- conducting DSO’s fine principal clarinet introducing romantic middle section theme

Opening Andante lugubre to this came across dry, mildly clipped, antiseptic. Things were slow, became deliberate at gathering steam, with odd siphoning off different sections of DSO Berlin from each other playing and attempting to reply to one another. First Piu mosso during the Introduction – put there to abet hellish winds accumulating amongst the strings – became barely noticeable. Eschenbach put his own subito piu mosso during sighing dyads making way into flute trios during the middle section – making such transition come across silly, mildly petulant this way. Fussiness over light gusts of wind between strings and woodwinds during first buildup to main theme turned the figuration into practically aural equivalent to watching protozoa swim about on slides under microscope – with DSO Berlin strings sounding nearly as thin as Houston’s, … i.e. how about Hans Neuenfels choreography for Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini?

Eschenbach again vehemently confused loudness for passion – hard at any rate to work up at his tempos. It is as though we might gain insight by having most of this piece taken apart to expose all its inner layers – except for their becoming often so muddied - so much found dying underneath in the mean time. The band-y cheap approximation of operatic overture accelerando at the very end, also ending this concert, did not convince. Vehemently loud slash of wind introducing restart of violent main section of this – unmistakable what it is on the live LSO/Markevitch disc from BBC – is such for which Eschenbach made such luftpausen’d reach - it resembled letting off … instead - quiet brief mourning then from good lower DSO brass.

Eschenbach had just convincingly worked up some heat, then overdoing it for final entrance of middle section theme in the violins only to sink everything by docking single pitches on DSO brass loudly as idea broadly siphons itself off - dead. Long delay had been made earlier through regretful sounding English horn commenting on pleasurable guilt of the two lovers, answered by well played harp arpeggios – but with both unsure of where to make cut-offs on back and forth exchange. Descending sunlight from flute trios playing repeat-chord (C Major) tremolo seemed to take very long to arrive.

Should your idea of Francesca da Rimini be one entirely physically disengaged from action Tchaikovsky graphically describes, Christoph Eschenbach is your man, forever likely shall be. I suppose one could get all absorbed too by standing all day in a Cy Twombly gallery to attempt engaging with the forces of nature, how they intermix with human passion. You just have to ask yourself – how much would you talk yourself into it?

DR Kultur: DSO Berlin - Tame Sacre du printemps blots Tugan Sokhiev MD designate debut. Piotr Anderszewski, soloist. 26.11.10. Philharmonie, Berlin.

2010-12-01T22:25:00.000-08:00

This marked Tugan Sokhiev’s debut as music director designate of DSO Berlin. Most prominent here wasa work Ingo Metzmacher also did his first season – out of his three with DSO – Le Sacre du printemps by Igor Stravinsky. Sokhiev, originally from Ossetia, just like his mentor Valery Gergiev, and continuing a little while longer as Orchestre Capitole de Toulouse’s conductor, is said to have close to decade long relationship with DSO Berlin as guest conductor. He also replaced Zubin Mehta on short notice during the Vienna Philharmonic’s fall 2009 Asia tour. More than I could have known, he has been serious contender to take Metzmacher’s place for months now – since Metzmacher suddenly announced resigning from DSO Berlin in March of 2009.

Musical qualities to Sokhiev’s work have surfaced – most notably on a Dvorak and Tchaikovsky program he conducted with the orchestra last season – and also for some of this program as well. He has an ear for the lyricism of the music he conducts, a decent ear for balances, yet there are other elements that perhaps are still lacking for position carrying the prestige of having been founded by Ferenc Fricsay.

This program opened with the Roman Carnival Overture of Berlioz. Benevenuto Cellini’s romance to Therese – here sung by English horn – received lovely warmth, ardor, and shape. Once bacchanale – choral during the opera (conducted by Gergiev at Salzburg recently) – began, spiritedly here, some flaccidity however in getting the shape of its tune and rhythms began to creep into the strings of DSO Berlin. In order to compensate for the lapse, urgent push forward gradually then surfaced. Such eventually left woodwinds slightly off ensemble wise, and then violins sounding strained, forced. Risk also began to emerge of conducting slightly ahead of the beat. Even with all carping above, all still ventured forth in a spirited manner and on reasonably secure footing.

Piotr Andrszewski proved consistently fine soloist for the Bartok Third Piano Concerto. The folk-like simplicity, earthy accents, engaged rumination over mystery infusing this music all got matched with limpid Mozartean line, plus secure engagement of quasi-Lisztian virtuosity some of the way therein. He was also very keen on listening to all going on about him as keen to accurately interact with such toward achieving optimum results for all. Sokhiev proved supportive, but one has to reckon tentatively so. The hushed mystery opening Adagio religioso from strings of DSO Berlin he assisted in making rapt and middle section of antiphonal bird call between soloist and solo winds in DSO Berlin had all color, piquancy, echo to resonate very effectively.

DSO Berlin strings sounded slightly thin, tentative at outset of the first movement – but with good sense of pulsation underneath evident – Andreszewski playing his opening bird-song lines with singing tone and deftly applied color – consistent from him with much to follow here. Making glib Bartok’s excellent rhythmic shape to opening lines, DSO Berlin strings made something curiously flat-line of their opening tutti – DSO winds then soggy toward sufficiently being able to color their lines. Andrswzewski continued unencumbered – then with good attempt to assist him from woodwinds – into shaping sprightly second theme with excellent brightness and lift.

Winds then dragged unison allargando line into the Development – canon between Anderszewski and them to follow belabored by tentative beat from Sokhiev. – but with all finally coming together well for quietly haunting segue into the Recapitulation. Qualities that dragged down earlier passages resurfaced again, but concertato winds with Anderszewski on the second theme lightly fed off the nuance he provided them and all eventually came to a light, heady close with Anderszweski deferentially accompanying solo flute. The rarefied, transfigured quality of how the ‘leave-taking’ Adagio religioso opened was again special here. Anderswzweski settled for playing forte as marked anguished chord progressions in the first A section of this, but strings as leaning on similar during return thereof lacked such perfect subtlety., followed by good despondency in making forceful response from Anderszweski, then to help bring all to, very rapt, a peaceful close.

PIotr Anderszewski proved most useful, in marking accents right to keep motion, pulsation flowing right, all calibrated as well as possible through the vigorous finale, different episodes thereof – albeit with first A section fugato more in Sokheiv’s hands than that of the soloist for most of it. Prredictably results were approximate, followed by clotting of matters toward its conclusion. After further muddying of several passages, awkward accenting of the last page of this, tricky in its own right, almost threw Anderszewski off, but all held on sufficiently to a completely vigorous send-off of the end of the concerto. Anderszweski always remained confidently engaged with in both the vigor and often also playful wit of this music.

Memories float back of hearing Helene Grimaud play Bartok Third with Metzmacher and the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra – Grimaud who can be colloquial bull in the china shop on Schumann, Chopin, Ravel, even Rachmaninoff, but with the SFSO playing at previous DSO Berlin levels, all crisp, rapt, lightly intense through entire duration of this fine performance – Bartok Third that Grimaud had recorded already with Pierre Boulez.

If one accepts Rite of Spring as concert tone poem, nothing to offend then about how Tugan Sokhiev approached it. However, some listeners still reckon it deserves better. Consistent with making it mere showpiece, this was equally as tame as many performances of Rite arrive these days. Simplicity here felt put aside right away with a heavily nuanced opening principal bassoon solo. With careful anticipation of bar lines and getting mildly stuck on brief concertato of flues and English horn - things waited until right before ‘Augures de printemps’ to sufficiently gather steam. Adequately pulsated streamlined grip on proceedings took over from there. Excess legato from brass and several faulty entrances from winds apart, a secure grip on matters at last manifested itself. “Jeu de rapt’, featuring excellent rapid tonguing from flutes, gradually got weighed down by soggy accents.

Introduction and then climax and brass interjections to ‘Spring Rounds’ got underlined, smoothed out – remindful of a young Semyon Bychkov Woodwind descant first well limned fine steady pulsation underneath to get the main section underway. Reprise of intro was better - following odd pause inserted before rapid stretto coda to ‘Rondes’. Similarly gilded allargando defanged the opening to ‘Jeux des cites rivales.’ Marked grace note upbeats on woodwind got clipped and a few thereof misplaced; streamlined was the rest with which for Sage to make grand entrance. It took a good ten seconds for Danse de la terre - eventually tamed by numerous carefully anticipated downbeats and flat landing, rhythmically - to help weakly conclude Part One.

Shape altogether got abandoned for much savoring of texture, sonority for just about entire Introduction to Part Two – garden variety gilding of strings and horns amidst muted trumpet duo episode sup-par as usual here. Jansons on Concertgebouw live disc proved slightly more competent surface wise, but similarly insipid here. When will such Karajan-esque flaccidity – upon which Bychkov predictably picked up so well early on – be abandoned on this music for good? Perhaps good for it to remain around for shock occasional good performance of Rite will still provide. After DSO strings playing flat and dull entry to ‘Cercles mysterieux’, principal flute and clarinet led the ‘piu mosso’ therein well – compromise then to resurface for how all the first half to Part Two ended.

The great practically Tennessee Ernie Ford (I almost typed ‘Tennessee Williams’) style hitch to the git-along – as I put it - that a dismayed Stravinsky discovered from Karajan took over for Glorification de l’elue ‘, Sokhiev letting all go for it to risibly take on a life of its own for return of main section thereof. Semaphoring between brass and strings for ‘Evocation’ also sounded eccentric. ‘Action rituelle’ emerged fussy, indecisive, with silly curlicue to woodwind cut-offs, funny streamlined clipping of upper violin ostinati and then of brief episode of antiphonal gesture between winds/brass and strings. Only the climax to this truly significant portion evinced some genuine savagery – or real mystery.

“Danse sacrale’ started off promisingly, then for cross-accents between especially strings and timpani to start throwing Sokhiev off. Strings became phlegmatic, starting its main section. Sokhiev avoided overdoing slurring on slow stretto concluding first repeat of how main section opens – partly to compensate for damp accenting of strings attempting to forcefully begin the written out first repeat. Gilding of violins and flutes helped Sokhiev prepare carefully negotiating cross-rhythms opening extended coda. Underlined, gilded (!) rip up solo trombone very risibly ushered in final twenty-two measure loud sustained ritornello for the entire ballet. Sokhiev, trying to recover being incisive, scrupulized the codetta to ‘Danse sacrale’ - bass drum imitating timpani getting lost - all toward making a whimper of concluding Rite. Sokhiev has some invested spirit, musicality for this, intermittent bad use of judgment aside; like numerous others, some just only complacent, he lacks the sufficient technique - that is, on any major podium.

Metzmacher is still clearly the aesthetician with Rite, similar to Fricsay – very similarly with the London Symphony on this piece eight years ago. By his first season with DSO Berlin, he had developed a more individual voice for “Le Sacre’ and thus on his precise terms, the simplicity and pervasive primitivism of this score came across very alive and fresh – even leaving Fricsay slightly behind in several episodes. The new lift – while feeling slightly stifled for air – to reprise of main section to ‘Glorification de l’elue; was most arresting to the ear; equally heart-stopping was the quiet, very precisely pulsated ‘Action rituelle’, followed by a fraught ‘Danse sacrale’ – equally so to how ‘Glorification’, its main section had resumed earlier.

Piotr Anderszewski followed the Bartok Third Concerto out of which he had very confidently made chamber music with - as encore - Three Hungarian Folksongs from Csik (Sz 35). Slightly different from softer touch, rhythmically more delicate turns of phrase expected from a Hungarian pianist quickly became evident. Andeszewski slightly off-center interpretatively, drew out of the first two, slower portions of this a richly colored texture, illuminating the filigree written therein with rich overtones. Dynamics for such intensely lyrical playing may have gotten raised a notch. Gain in perspective was still had from everything through carillon style ringing tone on arpeggio chords for brief jubilation rounding out a most distinctive showing here.

HGO: Puccini Madama Butterfly: Sterling vocal acting by Martinez and Calleja engulfed in elephantosis of new Michael Grandage production - 02.11.10

2010-11-06T12:03:00.000-07:00

Eager anticipation had to have greeted a new production, initially pleasing to the eye, of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly – marking important role debut by Ana Maria Martinez and HGO debut of celebrated Maltese tenor Josef Calleja. One then waited however for much of this production to come to some semblance of life, but all in vain.

Cio-Cio-San is probably the most dramatic assignment Ana Maria Martinez has assumed here thus far. If one may have detected some shallowness of tonal depth or focus, Martinez made up for any such lapse by delegating her resources prudently and making much detailed expressive shape of most of the text to first especially reveal a certain apprehension Cio-Cio-San perhaps only feels subconsciously early on. Martinez avoided understating completely away the youth of Cio-Cio-San in the earliest scenes of the opera, but also revealed, should early on Cio-Cio-San have any clue as how to realistically assess what is at hand, a certain feigning of inculcating in full what her new situation might be.

Martinez pointed all color and nuance to making full sense of the text, including her well learned deference to Pinkerton, distancing of her past and expression of strained comprehension of what it has meant to visit the Christian mission for a first time. Puccini has indicated harmonically the mysterious sensation that Cio-Cio-San feels – then for line to open out as it does that Martinez caressed freely, suavely. Martinez’s measured feeling and fraught tone for Cio-Cio-San’s sudden weighing out of options at crux of the scene with Sharpless, followed by protest of equally reckoned vulnerability was very affecting. Cio-Cio-San’s overwhelmed wonder and quick assumption of pride at spotting return of the Lincoln was equally so – ironically preparing for Martinez’s quite fully making her own the desperate and very sad final scene to this tragedy. Legato line was always suave, charm, and blend with a basically dependable comprimario level Suzuki from Lucy Schaufer for their duet toward end of Act Two with the cherry blossoms all made itself well felt. Martinez sang ‘Un bel di’ with intimately, modestly shaped line and fine dovetailed expressivity, then febrile ardor for its affirmative closing lines.

Josef Calleja, looking consistently slightly stiff on the Wortham stage, confidently sang B.F. Pinkerton with ringing ardor and some implied haughtiness, both qualities showing what makes the young lieutenant click. Attempt at absorbing, so much all Japanese in his midst looked rightly uncomprehending, deep down, glib – at some strain at disguising this being so. Through fine vocal acting, much more than anything else, a gnawing doubt rightfully developed, mixed in with Puccini’s subtleties, of – without my letting Pinkerton off– with what gap in ability to communicate effectively between the newly betrothed couple One had to be provoked by first moment Calleja started to sing on stage, as to how it ever could have been possible for a more beautiful tone out of a tenor to have been be heard from stage at the Wortham. One might have to go back a little ways.

Strongest among supporting cast were Rodell Rosel as cleanly sung, straightforwardly conniving marriage broker Goro, resolute Commisioner of Tommy George. and most of all the age wise, prudent Sharpless of Levi Hernandez, with slightly dry but ample vocal resources to sing this well. Robert Pomakov, as the Bonze, looked and sounded mildly threatened by the situation, tremulously so – more than he sounded like any menace as a Bonze.. Boris Dyakov appeared deftly as the lovesick, obsequious Yamadori, to lightly playful, scornful Cio-Cio-San of Martinez.. Rachel Sorensen looked planted onto the vast stage as perhaps statue of Pinkerton’s new wife - all that was memorable about her appearing on stage, Martinez, the distraught Cio-Cio-San vulnerably, consolably with warm tone addressed her as who must be the happiest woman alive – if only one cold have made Kate Pinkerton appear at all alive. Secondarily, she looked to be in plain view a good several pages before Cio-Cio-San should know of her presence. Perhaps this Kate Pinkerton got imported from the Robert Wilson production.

If only after describing especially the two near-definitive leads to have graced the Wortham for this, there were any more good news about this production of Puccini’s ‘Japanese tragedy’, except that for the most part there was not. A widely curvy walkway draped over broadly spread out ascending steps, against fine scenic backdrop – all as though we should perhaps be sitting in awe of a multiple hundreds of times blown up postcard. Lighting (Neil Austin) shifted for different hues both for the curvy walkway, stylized representation of the hill up to the house it was, and the backdrop. Otherwise, the highly diffuse, even fluorescent appearing lighting was harsh, looked college glee club amateurish. Shift of stage light at end of prelude to Act Three from gray dawn to high noon occurred in only a matter of several seconds.

On a very expansively laid out stage, the house for Cio-Cio-San was relegated to being a couple of screens to far left front of the stage. Elephantosis at achieving grandeur with stage picture overall was far more the priority here than the house, or mere vague intimation thereof, which Michael Grandage announced in the program notes, is just there to serve its purpose and then - lest anything too specifically indigenous might become the least bit overbearing - to get out of the way. Apparently there were more important considerations to be reckoned – but without Grandage making it clear what they might be. The decoration of modest choreographic steps from especially bridesmaid entourage and relatives and deft bowing to each other was all fine and well. In order to make a little borrowed metaphor of the situation, to admire that is practically in effect to be fawning over dormers and lintels left out on ground visibly close to the sidewalk – in front of a fine edifice that has just recently crumbled to the ground.

Liner notes making exposed just about all the modus operandi behind this Madama Butterfly, it is surprising that any life emerged out of this onstage at all. What might have inspired especially Martinez and Calleja to give of nearly their best and achieve the good vocal acting that they did? Martinez generously offered more than just that. It might have meant risk of losing some reckoned sight of them altogether. Martinez and the boy then get put on a cupola attached to a large rotating wheel containing much of the set - then making creaking noises during Humming Chorus and/or prelude to Act Three.

What silences occur in Puccini’s score got halfway smoothed over first by Patrick Summers, then by all the monolithic to quasi-phallic vastness of scale. Butterfly’s final scene, allowing for more elaborate acting by Martinez, had her suicide take the hit of happening over along ascending walkway stage right, for Pinkerton to respond in full view of the dying woman by running in, sliding to his knees down several steps halfway toward her, as though to gesture some respect. Did Grandage want to console us that Pinkerton, on naturalistic terms, is innocent for what has happened? If so, then clumsily the entire notion fell flat. Moreover, as opposed to what the program notes might have had one believe, the chord Puccini, hurls out, responding to cries from Pinkerton, provides the conclusion absolutely no sense of resolution. It is unique this way.

Spreading out of confetti over the walkway also looked silly. Things going on about the house, looked so minimal, as said above, as to be practically insignificant. Other than what ritual of making polite gestures does for Grandage what is still more essential to the social culture and system of Japan, other than to give it some nice window dressing, got missed. For that matter, the whole drama, rationale for it, looked almost completely pointless – to point for one to cry out for return here of the consulate office design for set Francesca Zambello installed here for Butterfly two previous times.

One patron told me of his preferring the new production over the Ken Russell that visited here in 1985, that just for sensitivity to the music’s demands, was, conducted by Lawrence Foster, orgy of excitement compared with this. Oh, the spreading out of corn flakes around the house in place of cherry blossoms toward end of Act Two was a bit vulgar; at least the geisha’s house was front and center throughout – as opposed to, hypothetically, being compartmentalized into small corner box. On top among two stories - traditional action carried out below - you had early on several geishas moving one sleeping client across over to bed not in use to free up accommodations for next client.

Harmonizing well with the utterly, seemingly codified blandness of this Butterfly was the equally glib conducting of Patrick Summers. The asperity of Puccini’s scoring, essential part of its color scheme even while getting smoothed away to being halfway insignificant, became here altogether insignificant. Summers clipped his way in flaccid manner through the opening fugato. Though accompanying singers reasonably well for handful of bigger set pieces, such a streamlined approach demeaned Puccini’s score to little more than an accompanying soundtrack to the action; things, though slightly late in the day, emerged better full out during final scene. Humming Chorus was deftly pointed, for sure, but opening prelude to Act Three ultimately sounded more streamlined than evocative. The Bonze scene, halfway well provided for onstage, got smoothed out from the pit through dovetailing, gilding it slightly much toward end of its brief life, as got halfway smoothed out stinging accents for confrontation Goro provokes during Act Two.

Most annoying - in context of what got presented as in essence a two-act Madama Butterfly - no break after Act Two started - was inclusion of ‘Addio, fiorito asil.’ Not to be content with just including it, Summers gilded to death the accompaniment, as though Calleja might need any props – and with house to which he bids farewell hardly visible anyway. Moreover at heart of the matter the inclusion of this melodious number in a two-act Butterfly is musically, psychologically, philologically careless and incorrect.

It was also patronizing to the history of the company, that when Houston Grand Opera did present the 1904 version in 1985 – of course in two acts, the ‘Addio, fiorito asil’ got dropped (as could have been sung by nearly as superb Richard Leech). In its place got reinstated a couple of places – line or two to make Pinkerton seem more obvious the cad than the 1906 version without these lines does. Most affecting of all were several lines of plain arioso by Cio-Cio-San right before child enters for ‘Tu, tu picciolo Iddio.’ Moreover, Puccini’s very individual through-composed vastness of scale had on that occasion its full, unencumbered say.

At the end of the day, I found it extra patronizing to treat a drama, Latinized enough as it is, and though little of its source authentically Japanese, the way it got treated here - as so much window-dressing. Such seems so backward within involving the Far East and important enough social themes, including lack of ability for West and East to come to grips with each other with people over there mostly suffering the brunt during time the action of this takes place. The entire thing looked so uninspired as to have possibly been a traveling road show for this opera. Should Michael Grandage be so cowed by facing a piece of work that is more elaborate or involved, musically, aesthetically, psychologically than what has been his norm thus far, then perhaps he has extended his reach too far.

Presenting Madama Butterfly in such a stylized perspective did not accomplish anything. It is seldom everything an evening at the Wortham has looked so disengaged – all as though there being a corporatist overweening Nurse Ratched to oversee proceedings to prevent unduly disturbing the properly seated inmates.

HGO Peter Grimes - starkly retold tale of mad fisherman, starring Anthony D. Griffey 31.10.10

2010-11-05T05:28:00.000-07:00

Fourth in a series of the operas of Benjamin Britten, conducted by Patrick Summers and produced thus far by Neil Armfield, this is also the first chance to have seen Peter Grimes at the Wortham Center - Grimes, Britten's second opera, first success at writing one - the earliest composed of collection presented here thus far. Armfield has enjoyed practically unqualified success with both Midsummer Night's Dream and Turn of the Screw and close to as much with Billy Budd, that opened the series in April of 2008.

Peter Grimes however posed a few problems, given concept with which Armfield and designer Ralph Myers commenced. Costuming and acting, updated to time of the work's composition, near end of World War Two, were as realistic and nearly fully believable as before in his work here. Acoustically, this production worked better than recent Grimes from the Met in which Anthony Dean Griffey also played the lead - for not going with wall to place all the way across, near very front of the stage, against which for orchestra and voices to project and ping too much. Where Armfield fell slightly short of the mark here was in treating Peter Grimes as near as much of an abstraction as characterizes Britten’s mid-to-late 1950's Turn of the Screw and Midsummer Night's Dream.

The idea here, though communicated vaguely, of playing Peter Grimes as play within a play - or of approximating such a concept - was not bad – but still one that has been tried before - to varying degrees of success and failure. One had subconsciously to react i to how the people appearing to be playing the real characters on stage were perhaps instead to an extent reacting to doing so as just real people. According to what Everett Evans cited from program notes, there was perhaps a little firsson in catching a group of such players assessing for 'final run-through' of sorts what is each of their best feet forward in getting the audience to react to story being presented as well as possible.

One spent the opening courtroom scene, trying to assess as best as possible, with most of the cast, including Grimes in the front row all arranged in straight rows for seating area, with nobody else so prominently seated as that. Hobson and Swallow, conducting proceedings, got stationed right at front, apart from the seating area. Most chairs during the first interlude were then moved off to have just a few positioned on bare wooden floor of town hall auditorium as one might position them out on a deck.

The set design only became oppressively monotonous for Act Two, Scene One, where perhaps at an angle, some perspective could be allowed to inculcate church facade - perhaps diagonally across one corner extra prop or two to indicate (plan for) town square. Conventionally set, the church facade, combined with voices emerging from behind it create a complete frisson between what is going on inside and then privately roadside. Once set design for the second scene of Act Two, with profile for Peter Grimes's drab hut pulled forward, Armfield's intent then became clear in remaining so abstract for scene previous; the idea still wearied the eye.

Together with Summers more concise and relaxed with this score's often elaborate demands, the opera’s last three scenes worked consistently better than, as all taken together the first four. Just one further allowance that could have been made was to open things up - toward sense of wider space to better indicate some sense of outdoors into which for boy to make his tragic exit - and through which for Grimes to make his final exit too. Long tables brought on and offstage, arranged in various ways, over which got laid out fishing gear, served as metaphorically abstract construct of sorts. Talk, as led by Anthony Freud and Patrick Summers after the show, discussed 'a breaking down of the fourth wall' a la Brecht, yet Armfield’s engagement with the audience seemed timid. Having mysterious silent figure, to represent the original author George Crabbe, eventually making it seem he was directing some of the action onstage, still left whatever concept being played out slightly vague. Not successful was having group of children run pell-mell back and forth across the stage for 'Sunday Morning' - evocative interlude starting Act Two and also to contrast with both the darkness of both preceding storm and dramatic situation to follow. Such gesture only communicated expectation that the audience will be bored, without something to constantly engage the eye.

Even with various problems pointed out here, the acting of both principals and supporting cast on stage, seldom held back, was both realistic and often lively - with costuming (Tess Schofield) very capably complementing expected action on stage. Lighting (Damien Cooper), if conventional, slightly gimmick laced, worked, except for having to cover excessive empty space for first scene of Act Two.

That this was Patrick Summers's first attempt at conducting Peter Grimes was certainly remarkable. And yet revealed again was his way of relying upon as a crutch certain affectation toward especially drumming up what will feed back contrived excitement instead of real. Good color from the brass enhanced atmosphere for 'Dawn.’

What might have made one’ look askance toward orchestra pit was mishandled rhythm at quartet started by Balstrode ('I'll give a hand’ - Act One, Scene One); Summers started clipping it. The lean quality of orchestral forces for this downtown is likely influence toward such perception here. Indication is here - fine here that rope merely got pulled manually across stage – of winding out of rope meeting resistance against a rotating capstan - with Britten marking strings and lower winds with slightly awkward accenting to depict the mechanical resistance.

What could have led Summers slightly astray here was Peter’s light calling out for helping hand right before. I sought out – suggesting Glyndebourne, thus perhaps idea close to mindset of Summers - the EMI Haitink recording. There is a subtle push forward toward end of this passage,, but Haitink slightly more gets marked indication there exactly right. Poise reinstated itself here well before Ellen's 'Let her among you without fault;’ - of which Katie van Kooten made firm entreaty; there are many others with similar bad habits on many prominent podiums today.

Jagged writing for’Storm’ i took on two-dimensional perspective – after exaggeratedly hectic ‘Look! The storm cone’ ensemble, with internal proportions to both passages tentatively profiled. ‘Old Joe has gone fishing’ got pushed excessively - as to apologize for its unbuttoned jauntiness. Most glaring however was hurried coasting through climactic moment right before Grimes enters Auntie’s pub from storm outside – that all got deflated here. Sustaining some integrity through everything was still some grasp of atmosphere and of dramatic situation at hand. All then comfortably fell into place for Summers for the final two acts of Peter Grimes; such issues almost never arose again.

The Passacaglia - opened nobly by viola solo (Eliseo Salazar) - had fine shape. Mystery, solemnity, of ‘Midnight’ to open Act Three was complete, as was the weirdness of the sixth interlude – excusing questionable intonation from violin first stands – and distraught, measured feeling for choral postlude for return to work immediately following the tragedy that has just transpired. Chorus, as prepared by Richard Bado, was consistently excellent, as was also the decision to place the pub band music in first scene of Act Three backstage. Movement about by the chorus for especially the gathering about for confrontations in Acts Two and Three proved the professionalism of also their stage direction evening long.

Anthony Dean Griffey began the role of Peter Grimes as practically just face from among the crowd, betraying on purpose slight nervous unease and struggle to maintain poise on the stand. His early unaccompanied duet with Ellen Orford had the requisite long-breathed legato - making fine shape of this haunting passage. There was here poignantly desire felt to retain some civility in interaction with community at large and good anxiety expressed with recall to Balstrode of the day one earlier tragedy struck.

The only thing that really misfired for Griffey here – moment as cited above prepared weakly by Summers – was ‘Now the Great Bear and the Pleiades’ (monologue), that for dressing it up a bit much with nuance, it then missed the focus, moreover eerie calm it must convey to make its impact. Exits off-stage with the boy - boy running off behind Grimes both into the storm and halfway through Act Two, rang somewhat false. Vocally most of all, the welling up of anger in this Grimes Griffey made something with which to contend during tense scene with Ellen in Act Two. Griffey was conscientious about humanizing Grimes, even while scolding, blaming the apprentice for his own woes; he then found his métier in freely expanding out vocally for berceuse to follow – intimate picture of Grimes from dreams he softly recalls, assessing what should lie ahead.

Groffey’s technique is quite individual –in his broad formation of vowels to help expand out sound below the break – a mild telltale hint of juddery vibrato only slightly intrusive thus far. Above the break, he lightens things just right, even often incisively, as proved very effectively, flexibly true for interpretively triumphant mad scene near the end. His long-breathed legato for both long melisma toward end and reprise of ‘What harbor shelters peace’ during moments of relative lucidity contrasted strongly with intimately detailed picture Griffey painted of imbalance and hysteria - the derangement that has usurped the mind of the lone and troubled fisherman by this point. Sense of helplessness was complete with Griffey’s dazed appearing, almost robotic final exit to sink his boat as ordered by Balstrode. Memories of seeing Jon Vickers in the part thirty-three years ago are not effaced or erased. Griffey however has nobly and very effectively found his own way for both acting and singing this most taxing part.

Katie Van Kooten, Hermia (Midsummer Night’s Dream) here before, portrayed a most sympathetic Ellen, making one feel this near as much Ellen’s tragedy as it is for Peter. She always made a beneficially striking lyrical vocal and stage presence. A little shrillness on top distracted only slightly from nuanced molding of the legato line – including for the ‘Embroidery’ aria. Her acting was most believable – attempt at firm resolve for Ellen to hold her ground mixed with vulnerability in Ellen’s inability to really comprehend what both Peter and she are up against, Among female leads, Meredith Arwady stood out as a blowsy, chesty toned Auntie, with direct, dour, all-knowing humor - at for instance ‘A joke’s a joke’, etc. Catherine Wyn-Rogers, good casting too, had the right look and menace as Mrs. Sedley, but while avoiding going over the top, vocally sounded reticent, held back, perhaps one cut too light for the part. The nieces, Kiri Deomarine, Brittany Wheeler (Houston Opera Studio artists) sang in tune with Ellen and Auntie for their very tricky quartet in Act Two, and made cheeky wit out of all the rest.

Christopher Purves, in his HGO debut, led supporting cast of men with a conventional Balstrode, with keenly observed sense of having been around – sufficient for ability to come up with clearly felt sympathy for Grimes and his plight – and with firm tone seasoned well with bluster or gruffness to entirely fill out the part. Liam Bonner looked dapper as Ned Keene, sang reasonably, physically acted the part well, without giving the apothecary as distinctive a vocal profile as have others. His droll alternating of interaction with Mrs. Sedley and scorn behind her back was spot-on.

Joseph Evans capably served as reticent and polite Rector. Beau Gibson refreshingly sang Bob Boles straight, giving the mugging and blithering that tends to follow Boles around the sick leave it deserves. Armfield and Gibson both found solutions as to how to depict the ridiculous hypocrisy of Boles without making it camp. Camp was a little unavoidable by halfway through Act Three for lawyer Swallow (Patrick Carfizzi), but with plummy tone and right lilt for dance step accompanying him, he effectively pulled off avoiding taking caricature to excess. He sounded stern, firm in interaction with Grimes, right past time the curtain opens. With sonorous tone laced with irony – alongside dependable Hobson (Robert Pomakov) – Carfizzi authoritatively pulled this off.

All in all, even if this drama having been prepared to surreptitiously creep up on one, then later to overwhelm us, this was an honest, forthright interpretation of Britten’s Peter Grimes from just abut all involved – several cut corners aside. Minor carping, criticism aside, Houston Grand Opera proved still quite worthy here of the challenge of having before hosted Jon Vickers, gracing the stage of neighboring Jones Hall for two runs both approximately thirty years ago.

HGO: Britten's Midsummer Night's Dream. A restoration of all innocence and mirth. 23.1.2009 (repost from listserv)

2010-11-03T05:18:00.000-07:00

This was Houston Grand Opera's second go at Britten's Midsummer Night's Dream, one of only three full length Britten operas that I know the company to have produced thus far. It was last seen here sixteen years ago. A gently aqua tinted green color pervaded the entire set for very much of the entire evening. Rear and side drops with drawings in black etched on them gave the set design somewhat of a Japanese feel, as did also perhaps a wide swath of green vellum, crossing stage from left to right. Quite brilliant touch, just somewhat opaque trapping as this was, it got physically dragged down to cover Tytania and Bottom-as-ass in their slumber together in Act Two.

The first several characters to enter the stage were Puck (Jon M. Hill in an only speaking part), Oberon, king of the fairies and Tytania, his somewhat sparring wife. Houston favorite Laura Claycomb played Tytania, with close to ideally clear, agile line and vocalism, excusing just a little uncertainty around the break and several not quite fully supported high notes. The only thing that may have held up Claycomb from having more than mildly qualified success with Tytania was perhaps a mild or perceived lack of warmth. As more relevant further down, she was also working in atmosphere more cerebrally achieved than not or otherwise. She was costumed very attractively in luminous blue and white, embellished with much fluff and frills, with locks of her naturally red curly hair flowing down her back. Claycomb was ideally witty with again Bottom as ass, in their central absurd love scene together.

Welsh countertenor Iestyn Davies (HGO debut) vocally enjoyed one of just a short string of unqualified successes with casting here. Less ostentatiously costumed than is James Bowman on dvd of the Peter Hall production, he gave his part the air of mystery, contemplation, and aloofness in a way much of his part calls for. His vocal production was about the entirely most even of the entire cast and could have been identified by a few of us with that of Alfred Deller. I hope it not heresy to say either that I found his more subdued, thus more introspective, mysterious interpretation of Oberon, in acting also, to be mildly preferable to the blowsier James Bowman on the wonderful Haitink/Peter Hall dvd.. This was altogether a very fine piece of work from Davies.

The quartet then later sextet of lovers or couples was half successful. Best of all was the lyrical and ardent, always musical and most often in tune Lysander of Norman Reinhardt, heard earlier this season as Benedict in Berlioz. He also looked and sounded the most convincingly animated during the difficult quarrel scene of Act Two. This was overall a part that suited him a little better than did Benedict.

Least satisfactory was the blustery and pitch-insecure Demetrius of Liam Bonner, who sounded attractive enough when singing lyrically, but otherwise was really pushing it and for too much of his part. Ryan McKinny as the Duke of Athens Theseus, almost noble enough in appearance, was lacking in enough authority for the part, with insubstantial legato and weak low notes.

Among the women, I was probably happiest with the Hermia of Kate Van Kooten (HGO debut). Very charming in appearance and most convincingly in love of the two women among the first two couples, her voice and singing, perhaps just slightly rich for what expectations are for the part, had lovely color to it, with especially rich low notes and supple phrasing of her music. I just detected just a few pitch problems toward the end of her performance here last night. Marie Lenormand started off as Helena with less control of pitch, often below it somewhat more than fortunately how she ended; she was (in addition to Puck) also the least attractively costumed of everybody on stage. The two women looked indistinguishable in class from the rustics on stage, Bottom, Quince, Flute, etc. One easily gets the point. However, without further insight, contrast between the two classes of people falls almost immediately a little flat.

Leann Sandel-Pantaleo sounded somewhat more authentic contralto as Hippolyta here than for Ursule in the Berlioz last fall. It had me wondering if she might have been feeling indisposed somehow then. Phrasing her music sensitively, she looked and sounded trim, sufficiently aristocratic in this part.

As for the rustics, Matthew Rose (HGO debut), other than a bit uncertain in pitch at first then even later on for a few low notes, was the droll and wonderfully endearing Bottom. He enjoyed shilling to the hilt the death of Pyramus to the great enjoyment of everybody. Otherwise, he bantered about and sang animatedly enough among his team of six rustics without on purpose either in acting or vocally overshadowing anyone else - least of all the very lyrical Flute of veteran tenor Steven Cole, and the hilarious Snout and sprechstimme Wall (in Pyramus and Tisbe) of Jon Kolbet. Though with acting matching well enough with the rest, the practically also pitch-sprechstimme Quince of Robert Pomakov was a washout. There was so much rattle to his pitch that it was seldom easy to discern any.

The act of Pyramus and Thisbe in Act 3, to entertain the aristocrats, was a huge send-up for the entire hall, and for things that work this way downtown, was for the most part very convincingly funny, as opposed to the look-at-us, we're funny brand of humor in two recent runs of Mozart comedies here, Nozze di Figaro and Don Giovanni - very distracting in both. Since a wonderfully funny Barber of Seville here in 2004, fully appreciated by all, I do not recall an episode of such genuine and good laugh-out-loud humor as I found in Pyramus and Thisbe last night.

The skit animated Patrick Summers as well, though he tended to be quite good for all three scenes for the rustics - only on the dry or academic side for them during Act Two. At the beginning of Act One, the orchestra sounded insufficient in its lower reaches. This robbed the music of a necessary sense of its having overtones that even in notes not more than implied in the harmonic texture must somehow at least seem to land on the ear for Britten's music not to sound dry or academic. How would even orchestral forces as such, augmented a bit, be able to savor the Mahlerian (disclaimer::not led astray here by seeing the Visconti film) reaches of Death in Venice? Britten, by then, the end of his career, had very well cultivated an internationalized style and become the richer for it. Even in its chamber music sonorities, Midsummer Night's Dream helps pave the way to his underrated Owen Wingrave and Death in Venice.

Summers was at his best, accompanying Davies and Claycomb, Oberon’s noble aria in Act One, "I know a bank", after manner of Purcell, included. He gave good ear to the second episode for lovers in Act One (an act that is organized in rondo form), especially with the anxiety Hermia and Lysander express therein. This and episodes of writing for celesta and strings revealed an ear for color, though other passages through the evening sounded both tonally and rhythmically a little flabby. Undifferentiated as to the harmonic changes that occur in it, that is without sufficient nuance, the prelude to Act Three went sour in intonation from the strings of the HGO orchestra. Playing from the brass, which is to be often pungent in color sometimes came across as timid, though otherwise all well played, in terms of accuracy, pitch, etc.

How flat in perspective and lacking a bit in depth was a stiffly conducted final chorus right before the end of the opera, that should instead, marked 'slow and solemn', should be succulent in its tonal richness. Thanks in part to Summers, the best moment for childrens' chorus (otherwise lacking courage with accents) came at the end of Act One with a well animated, practically Stravinskian "You spotted snakes." Overall, I would gauge that Summers got the Britten about seventy percent right, but to avoid the hazard of this music coming across as two-dimensional, some further effort was needed. It was also considerably unwise, not to allow an interval between Acts One and Two. For, in fact, those who do not know the score at all, there was hardly at all any discernible break at all between Acts One and Two - indeed very unwise.

What went the extra step of the way in making Midsummer Night's Dream quite the scuess it was at its opening here was the mostly well gauged production of Nell Armfield. Mentioned already was the faux pas in costuming in particular one or two of the lovers, which for Helena, looked as though it could have come off a rack at Ross or Marshall's. Though including demonic looking Oberon and just a bit over-the-top for Puck that way, stage direction was naturalistically very effective. All moved in as natural and mostly unassuming manner as one would have desired on the minimalist set. Gratuitous underlining of material was gratefully close to nonexistent. Lighting for one scene, incisively conducted by Summers, with infusion of the green on stage by bright white light - the chastisement of Puck by Oberon in Act Two - was very effective. In the context of so much else, the lighting here was even startling as well.

For condition the economy it is in and Britten's writing in this case that shows significant departure from the more populist style of his Peter Grimes and Billy Budd, Midsummer Night's Dream gratefully received a quite full house. After the full shenanigans of Pyramus and Thisbe in Act Three, the audience vociferously showed their appreciation at curtain calls, including for seventh rustic, border collie Buddy, who during Pyramus and Thisbe indulged us with, ad lib, a moment or two of barking. If only singers ….