Gertsamtkunstwerk

Disappointing L'elisir

I attended L'elisir d'amore at the Royal Opera House on the 15 May.

For most of the time I was bored stupid. It took me a long time to work out why.

I liked the production. It was bright and lively, and colourful. I thought Diana Damrau was sensational. I have never heard her live before, and I don't think I have any DVDs of her in an opera. What really came over was how sexy she is. Facially she's not especially pretty not particularly striking, but she looked fabulous on stage. A great figure, really bubbly personality, a really physical performance, she seemed to me to be giving it all. And vocally. Oh, I like her! A few times, I thought - would I want Angela Gheorghiu or Anna Netrebko down there instead? ( I love them on the two DVDs I have). And the answer was, no. I wanted Diana Damrau there.

Simone Alaimo was vastly entertaining as Dulcamara; Anthony Micaels-Moore acted Belcore well, and often sang well, although often didn't.

I so wanted to like Giuseppe Filianoti. He was so endearing in the character and, again, really threw himself into the part. It was clear to me that he has a gorgeous voice, but it was also so very unreliable. I just kept giving him the benefit of the doubt, and I kept forgiving the flaws because of the beauty. I kept thinking, I would like him a lot more in a different style of music. I thought he often sounded ragged on top. And he seemed consistently to be just under the note, hooking into it from below.

But I had to stop giving him that benefit during Una furtiva lagrima, the big tenor solo. It wasn't bad for the most part, it was sincere and convincing, and often sweet. But when he cracked on a note, wobbled on others and strained and gasped on others, I thought, no, not up to the job. Sorry.

All of the above may lead you to think that it was an above average performance. Unfortunately, there was a major factor missing. It took me a while to work it out, and then it hit me. It was the orchestra.

Obviously, it wasn't missing as such but it was anonymous. I got this feeling that the conductor Bruno Campanella thought they were just there to accompany the singers. I got no sense of them being an integral part of the opera. No doubt they played all the right notes, and in the right order, but with little conviction.

I do like this opera, I have it on DVD twice and I find them both really enjoyable. When I reviewed them, I described the opera as 'gorgeous' and I raved about 'wonderful numbers' and 'gorgeous orchestra writing'.

Melody is at the forefront, but despite the apparent simplicity of the melodies, there is some complex and always pleasant, often delightful work in the orchestra.

But on that Friday night several weeks ago, I just didn't feel that. I thought it was a trivial waste of time, and even contemplated leaving at the interval, until I thought 'I'm not actually hating it, just a bit bored, and Una furtiva is yet to come'.

I wrote most of this post in draft when I got home, then decided it was too short, and then thought, maybe there's something wrong with me. I subsequently read several reviews which praised the orchestra and specifically the conducting, making me further question my judgement. I did then read a review which encapsulated my thoughts. Naturally this doesn't prove that I'm right, but suggests I'm not entirely barking.

I'm glad I saw Diana Damrau, but her aside it really was nothing special. It didn't do justice to Donizetti, and I was very disappointed in the tenor. I'd go and see it again, with the right cast, and the right conductor - although how am I to know whether the conductor's 'right'? And I would definitely go and see Diana Damrau again.

Lucia di Lammermoor

I attended this at English National Opera on Monday and should have written my review within twenty four hours to make it meaningful,but sometimes life just gets in the way of blogging.

The reviews I had read had been extremely positive, with people on newsgroups urging readers to get there or regret it. One of the main reasons for it being so good was Anna Christy in the star role. Mark Stone was also praised. So it was with considerable disappointment that I learnt that both of them had cancelled due to Lurgy (Dreaded) which also affected me at its acutest between 1920 and 2215, although it has lingered ever since. Anna's replacement Lurelle Alefounder was also said to be not very well.

And therein lies the biggest problem of ENO's ridiculous policy of 'Opera in English'. David Stephenson gave an excellent performance as Enrico, but I'm afraid Lurelle Alefounder was not up to it. Reading her CV she has performed mainly in very small companies, which is an excellent apprenticeship for young singers. It is wrong to be over-critical, because she was a late stand-in, but I feel that she was singing a role of this size in this house about ten years too early. And I'm not even sure that it was the right role for her. Initially I was shocked at her wide and uneven wobble until it dawned on me it was an attempt to trill. And her top notes were shrieked. If ENO sang mainstream operas such as this in the original Italian it would be easy to fly in a more mature and experienced soprano from Germany or somewhere. Instead I have paid nearly a hundred pounds to hear a Leading Lady barely out of college. And I am obliged to write that she wasn't up to it, which seems unfair.

The reviews were generally in praise in production, although the newspapers gave the impression that it was all about incest and paedophilia. Or something, I'm a bit confused because I've been reading them in parallel to reviews of Salome at Covent Garden, which I go to on Thursday. I think that's paedophilia and necrophilia.

I also realised that I didn't know the opera as well as I thought I did. I have never seen it live. I have watched once a DVD starring the incomparable Joan Sutherland in the leading role (who had the great virtue that it didn't matter what language she sang it in,no one could ever distinguish the words!). And I have a CD set of the famous Cherry Strudel recording. Except that that I play it more often on my mp3 player, so I don't really have a clue in which order those wonderful numbers come in!

To start with I wasn't that impressed by the production. The opening scene seemed very static and dull, but as the evening progressed it really crept under my skin and I came away understanding why it had been so highly praised. I am at a loss to explain why without going into great detail which would be boring for you and as so much time has elapsed would be bound to be very inaccurate. Besides, there is plenty enough description elsewhere on the net. Suffice to say that I had never realised that Bel Canto could be so thought provoking and so complex - although people say that this is the opera where Donizetti foreshadows Verdi.

Barry Banks as Edgar was stand out. A beautiful voice and a commanding stage presence. Particularly impressive when he stormed through the window as an interloper at Lucia's Forced Marriage. I absolutely adore Tombe degl'avi miei, and he did not disappoint. The orchestra had been a bit hit-and-miss throughout, but they were splendid here. The other highlight was the glass harmonica, which I had never heard before; it was gorgeously ghostly and startling.

I don't think will go down as one of my opera highlights of 2008 and yet I wish I could attend another performance and hope that it will be revived again soon. I suspect that I missed out big time by not having the first choice soprano as Lucia.

Lots of pictures at ArenaPal

La fille du regiment (again)

I went to see this for a second time, eleven days after seeing it for the first time, a day after hearing the broadcast and now nearly two weeks ago.

This posting is really an addendum to what I wrote the first time. I was going to write a long thoughtful post while listening to my recording of the radio broadcast, but I have subsequently acquired the DVD from Genoa with JDF and Patrizia Ciofi, so I thought it might be more fun to write about the audio-video presentation rather than a merely audio presentation.

Some miserable bastard who heard the radio broadcast over the internet didn't rate it. People who had seen it live and heard the broadcast all opined that the radio simply do justice to what was an impressive total performance. In the end I did not chime in on that thread, because there was so much I wanted to say.

The simple fact was that people who saw and heard it live in the house believed that the radio broadcast was a poor imitation.

Opera is not an audio-only art form. Objectively, the idea of it being so is a temporary aberration of less than a hundred years, in a four hundred years (this month!) history,  simply because audio recording became viable long before effective video recording. Often, audio-only is more convenient, but if the composers had really intended us only to listen to opera, they would have written oratorios instead. It's a bit like football by radio - it's better than nothing at all,but why choose it in preference to television or being there? I suppose I get hacked off by pompous twits trying to argue as a point of principle that a an audio recording or broadcast is definitive. Yes, it is an object in its own right, but not by definition superior to audio plus acting, dancing and staged spectacle.

Having heard the radio broadcast as well as my first performance I had some familiarity with the music. Not much, I stress, but there was a sense of familiarity. Nevertheless I haven't changed my opinion greatly. I love the overture, and I love the closing scenes of Act I, the love duet, of course the wonderful nine high Cs count them of Ah mes amis, and Marie's farewell. Twenty or so minutes of sublime music that provide a wonderful contrast with the high comedy of Act II.

If I say that I have no complaints about any of the performers, it sounds as if I'm damning with faint praise, or else that they were so perfect. Neither is true, but they all performed excellently as individuals and as an ensemble. I understand it will be shown on TV - in December...

L'elisir d'amore

  L'elisir d'amore is a gorgeous opera by Donizetti that I happen to have twice on DVD. The first version one of the early issues from the Del Prado 'A Season of Opera on DVD' that began nearly three years ago and continues relentlessly; the second I received down my chimney fallen off the back of a passing reindeer-hauled sleigh. For brevity, I shall refer to the Angela Gheorghiu-Roberto Alagna version as Lyons, and the Rolando Villazón-Anna Netrebko version as Vienna.

A comic opera, which doesn't mean you'll be rolling laughing in the aisles. A delightful tale of...well, not very much. Boy has crush on girl. Travelling salesman/conman comes to town and sells to boy aka Village Idiot an elixir which will cause women to fall in love with him.

Girl decides to marry visiting soldier to make peasant boy jealous. Boy signs up to army for more money to buy more of elixir. Boy inherits fortune from uncle - although he doesn't know it. All the girls want him; he thinks it's because of the Elixir. Finally, girl admits she's in love with him and it all ends happily ever after.

No great insight into the human condition and no great moral to the story. Other than the gullibility of people to magic solutions pedalled by spurious authority. It was obviously as common a problem in 1832 as it is in 2007.

What does characterise this is some wonderful numbers - arias, duets, ensemble pieces - interspersed with some gorgeous orchestra writing. Melody is at the forefront, but despite the apparent simplicity of the melodies, there is some complex and always pleasant, often delightful work in the orchestra. Partly the harmonies, but particularly the orchestration eg using the different tones and timbres of the instruments to create different parts of atmosphere. And most especially, the melodies that often compliment or contrast with the vocal line rather than merely accompany (or make the singing appear to be an optional extra). I want to describe it as very modern-sounding  but am conscious that that might be entirely misconstrued to mean serial, atonal, discordant. It's not really comparable to musicals or film music because there is a welcome absence of schmaltzy strings signposting two-dimensional emotions. I suppose it has the brightness of a poppy pop song with added virtuoso singing and intricate orchestra passages. Perhaps I mean 'timeless', rather than 'modern'.

La fille du regiment

I went to see this at the Royal Opera House on Thursday evening. I'm going again next week and it's on the radio on Saturday, so this is just my initial impression. (Also rumours of a possible televising)

By Donizetti

Marie ...... Natalie Dessay
Tonio ...... Juan Diego Florez
La Marquise de Berkenfeld ...... Felicity Palmer
Sulpice ...... Alessandro Corbelli
Hortensius ...... Donald Maxwell
A Corporal ...... Bryan Secombe
Duchesse de Crackentorp ...... Dawn French

I enjoyed it. I really don't know the piece at all, save for that one aria 'Ah! mes amis, quel jour de fête!' with its 9 High Cs. I'm not a high C freak at all, am entirely indifferent to interpolated high notes, and so on, but I will admit that in an aria with 9 of them coming in quick succession - as written - there is potentially a visceral thrill. And I might as well get it out of the way, now. JDF sang them all, brought the house down with applause, but didn't do an encore. It is a really great aria, and this is now the third time I've heard him sing it in six months, and he does it very well.

I thought the production was very good, but, having read a review that called it 'the best production at the ROH for decades' was rather red rag to a bull. For the record, it isn't...and it's not like I've seen many, but I have seen quite a few better.

And the music. As I had never heard it before I can only say it was consistently lovely without between memorable. Coincidentally, the latest in my alphabetical list of operas to be studied at home is L'Elisir D'amore, and what has really struck me about that is the intricate colours going in the orchestra. I noticed nothing of that on Thursday, but will be in a better position to comment next week. In fact, I didn't especially notice the orchestra (as distinct from the music) at all. Which isn't a bad thing, but isn't necessarily a good thing.

The performances were all of a high standard. No weak links, although apart from the two leads none really leaped out and grabbed me. I had not heard Natalie Dessay before, and I certainly found her impressive, vocally and dramatically - perhaps tending to the manic over-acting. I did notice that she seemed to nail the high notes more convincingly when she was supported by the chorus. I don't mean vocally or musically, i mean literally lifted off the ground and held aloft by the men of the 'regiment'. A lovely voice.

Juan Diego Florez was as to be expected a flawless performance. He is really the consummate professional performer, never a flubbed note, never a move out of place, looks good and moves elegantly, and I am a fan of his. And yet, there is something lacking. I wouldn't go so far as to say insincere or mechanistic, but it lacks a raw passion. Indeed I would say, 9 high Cs not withstanding, I would say his singing lacks raw passion. Plenty of finesse and beautiful to hear, which is right for the repertory he does.

The production was visually appealing throughout. The underlying theme was three maps/mats on the floor representing the Alpine Region in which it is set, undulating to represent the rugged surface of the alps. Although simple and figurative, I found it evocative.

The curtain opened to a wagon train of abused furniture - wardrobes etc neatly converted into covered transport for an army on the move. There was a call to arms, and the regiment armed themselves with kitchen utensils. Eventually, this caravan was moved, making the undulating maps the centre of focus. Various people came and went, and various bits were sung. Marie, the eponymous daughter of the regiment (she was found as a baby on the battlefield and adopted by the whole regiment...) was shown doing various humdrum tasks, such as ironing and peeling potatoes, and hauling in a whole washing line of long-johns.

In the second Act, the Covent Garden box was wheeled on, to rest on rolled-up maps and carpet oddments. Although, unusually, the box didn't have a lid, and was open on three sides. There were some odd goings on, the notary appearing through the fireplace (huh?). Various people came and went, yes, that is definitely my abiding memory - lots of entering and leaving. Dawn was entertaining in her small speaking role. A right snotty cow, if you ask me.

The idea was that Marie was to be married off to the nephew of the Duchess of Crackenthorp (by proxy), which didn't make her happy, because she was in love with Tonio, the peasant boy, who had enlisted in order to assist Marie's earlier promise that she would only marry one of the regiment. It was amusing seeing the wedding guests streaming up the alpine path to the back door of the mansion, all of them qualifying for "Ministry of Silly Walks" grants. For a moment, it evoked the freshness of sunlit alpine pastures, so that was nice. the best bit dramatically was when the regiment decided that Marie's impending marriage was not a good thing, and drove a tank towards the mansion. I'm afraid at that point the audience did a very un-British thing of actually applauding the scenery...oh, the shame of it...

Overall, an enjoyable evening without being moving and profound, and one that will look good on telly, if it's shown. The evening got a lot better when the people behind me stopped laughing in that smug, knowing way that people do when they know intellectually it's supposed to be funny, but in reality is less rib-tickling and more faintly amusing. on the other hand, it deteriorated seriously when the man behind my left ear decided to rub the nylon material of his trousers against his right knee in time with the music. Close to fingers on blackboard time and certainly as bad as tapping or even singing along. At least, I think it was his knee...

More thoughts actually on the music etc after next week. Just for the record, I didn't go to the Stage Door, because I thought I ought to hurry home because of a certain fiancé of mine, who shall remain nameless, had locked himself out of the house.

Mother says JDF was on Andrew Marr's show yesterday but that's a bit early for me. And she didn't actually see it because she had to go to Mass.

Update: I've just discovered the clip on line go to this link . It's right at the end of the programme (after the news, trailer for Heaven and Earth, and Ming Campbell discussing the Cheeky Girls and Charlie Kennedy) - position the 'play' counter approximately over the 'k' of "Back to launch page" . It will probably expire on Sunday 28th.

We love a girl in uniform, La fille du regiment, A nearly perfect delight, La fille du regiment, The Fat Lady Steals It ( a really quite ridiculous and factually incorrect headline from some smartarse sub-editor at the Home Counties Evening Sub-Standard), La fille du regiment and Lithe and Musical

Don Pasquale

By Donizetti The story doesn't matter. It's just a pretext for Donizetti to hang some beautiful music, which demands to be sung beautifully. Except for the title role, which, being a basso buffo part doesn't have to be bel canto.

I have copied a succinct synopsis from West Bay Opera

Don Pasquale, a foolish old bachelor in his sixties, has no heir. He hopes to persuade his young nephew Ernesto to accept an arranged marriage, but Ernesto is in love with the glamorous but penniless widow Norina and refuses to obey his uncle. Pasquale decides to solve the problem by getting married himself. Despite his age, he is determined to find a young wife. His friend, Dr. Malatesta, joins forces with Norina in a plot calculated to convince Pasquale that marriage is the last thing he wants. Norina is presented to the old man disguised as a sweet, innocent girl fresh from the convent school. The two are "married" in a bogus ceremony conducted by a fake notary. As soon as the marriage contract is signed, Norina turns into a shrew. She spends Pasquale's money on clothes and jewels, she demands the complete reorganization of the household, and she even pretends to be carrying on an affair right under her "husband's" nose. In the end, Pasquale is delighted to learn that his "marriage" was a sham and Norina is united with her beloved Ernesto.

More detail is at the NY Met's site; libretto; Aria Database

I have seen this live twice, with quite different casts, at the Royal Opera House, and would certainly recommend it to anybody with little familiarity with opera who likes good tunes. On both occasions I was lucky enough to get two strong casts with little scope for much criticism. This performance from Cagliari is not as good, which is not to say it's worthless.The cast is:

* Norina – Eva Mei
* Don Pasquale – Alessandro Corbelli
* Ernesto – Antonino Siragusa
* Dottor Malatesta – Roberto de Candia
* Un Notaro – Giorgio Gatti

I taped it off the TV, Artsworld, I think, and were it to be shown again, I would suggest watching it*

* sorry to be a bit UK-specific...I can only really talk about what's on UK TV, and trust that non-UK readers will be able to extrapolate for their own TV schedules

Don Pasquale at ROH

I saw this nearly two weeks ago and for some strange reason I haven't got round to blogging it yet. During the interval I was approached by someone who introduced herself as blog lurker and gave me her name, but my memory is terrible, and I can't remember, which is very very rude (my pathetic excuse is I'd had two meetings that afternoon and have spent the time since in a whirl of meetings involving lots of introductions and being told who else to contact so I'm going slightly loopy on names).

By Donizetti. 

As I remarked elsewhere, I only go to operas because of the star pull of the singers, and, yet despite a cast without an obvious star name, and despite not being a trained musician, and thus not entitled to an opinion about music, for some foolish reason I booked this - for the opera.

Cast:
Ernesto: Eric Cutler
Don Pasquale: Alessandro Corbelli
Doctor Malatesta: Christopher Maltman
Norina: Aleksandra Kurzak

Stick waver: Bruno Campanella

Cut a long silly story short, old Don Pasquale wants to disinherit his nephew Ernesto by marrying a wife, and also wants to prevent Ernesto from marrying Norina, so a plot is hatched, initially behind Ernesto's back, that DP marries Norina disguised as Malatesta's sister fresh out of a convent, and as soon as she marries, she turns into a nagging floozy with very expensive tastes. And it all ends happily ever after.

Some people find the story 'problematic'. I say 'get over it', it's a silly story, not intended to be a social comment nor an analysis of human behaviour, but a bel canto opera, a vehicle for beautiful music and beautiful singing. And fun!

I saw the original production in 2004, and produced a brief and not very enlightening summary review.  My hesitation on both occasions is probably because other than saying 'it was an enjoyable piece of entertainment gloriously performed' what else is there to say, unless one is intimately familiar with the work from recordings or the score (so many operas, so little time...!). It seemed at the end of the evening, everyone had a smile on their face!

I wouldn't say any if the singers stood out as having given great performances but they were all good. Eric Cutler made his ROH debut and  was justifiably received well, not just in the warm enthusiastic applause at curtain call, but also in the all-important overheard conversation stakes. "His name's very Anglo-Saxon, so he's not Latin,
but he's very good..."

At first I couldn't quite decide. I thought his voice had some beauty within it but seemed a bit rough around the edges. In the first act I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, and decided I would wait for Com'e gentil to judge. His Povero Ernesto was beautifully sung; by the time he got to Com'e Gentil, I had quite forgotten about 'judging'.

He will most certainly do!

I had to feel sorry for him a bit because he didn't look right in the costume at all. I don't know if it was specifically designed for Juan Diego Florez, but in any case, Eric Cutler is a tall man with a proportionately full frame, and I'm afraid in the 18th century dandy's costume he was perfect drag queen. I mentioned this to a couple of
people, who agreed wholeheartedly. Faye saw it last night and used the expression 'Charles Kennedy in drag...'

Aleksandra Kurzak was also impressive although IMHO I preferred Tatiana Lisnic in the role. I think when Tatiana played the role, the stroppy demanding Norina was an act; with Aleksandra I thought it was just an extension of the default Norina personality. I quite liked her voice although it was a bit quiet in places and a bit shrieky towards the top (but I'm a bit love-or-hate when it comes to sops)

Alessandro Corbelli played Don Pasquale, and while I wouldn't rave over the voice, the characterisation was excellent. Christopher Maltman gave an engaging and memorable performance as Dr Malatesta. I thought he looked surprisingly scrumptious in ringlets. I don't especially go for the voice, but he has a wonderful stage presence and
was so obviously enjoying himself.

What came over was how much everybody enjoyed it; the orchestra, the singers (who all acted and interacted to a high standard) and most of all the audience. I was surprised, with the tourist season being at its height, there was no clapping of the scenery (but Faye's seat neighbours, from the land where they clap scenery did so!); I was also surprised and a bit disappointed that there was no applause after Com'e gentil.

Re-reading my review I realise it's praise praise praise all the way, and that is a fair reflection. Again, stressing that there was nothing outstanding or great about it but it was good to very good all the way through. No doubt there were many technical flaws but I'm not sufficiently familiar with the opera to identify them or enable them to spoil my enjoyment.

As a PS, I am becoming more and more of a fan of the Lower Slips as a place to sit. Although something is lost because of the restricted view, much is gained by proximity to the stage. Again, the overhang causes some acoustic loss, but in this production, it was really fantastic to be so close to them when they were in the attic of the Dolls house.

Dom Sébastien, roi de Portugal

The opener to the new season at Covent Garden; a Donizetti semi-rarity. Last Saturday's was the first performance at Covent Garden, ever; I went to the second one on Tuesday. A concert performance, with all the singers relying on their scores, a sure sign that this isn't a repertoire staple. Synopsis is available on the ROH website. Dom Sébastien was a youthful king. A helpful programme note said

Chronic inbreeding between the Spanish Hapsburgs and the Portuguese house of Avis was the likely cause not just of Sebastião's father's premature death but also the premature death of all his uncles. It was also the likely cause of instability in Sebastião and in his cousin, the deformed Don Carlos (qv) of Spain. In fact, so inbred were the two families that Sebastião, who should have had eight great grandparents like the rest of us, could only number four

In fact, in some ways there was a slight reminisce of Don Carlo (s) perhaps mostly in the appearance of the Grand Inquisitor (No one expects the...Portuguese Inquisition.

I had never heard this work before. I have strong memories of there being some very beautiful music, but, really none of it memorable, and I feel that if I don't hear Acts 1, II, IV, V again it really wouldn't bother me overmuch. Opera Rara were recording it for release in February 2007; perhaps I shall buy the CD on account of having been there - assuming they manage to correct a few howlers in the studio.

Act III was absolutely superb, though, especially the Requiem. And I had one of those moments - I was sat in the Slips, ie front row along the side of the auditorium, and at the end of Act III I was leaning over, with my arms extended clapping and a big grin like a lunatic on my face, and Mark Elder saw me, caught my eye, and smiled and nodded (he had a bit of a lunatic grin, too).

I thought that the Stand-out performance was from Vessilina Kasarova. Alastair Miles was excellent as the Grand Inquisitor. Simon Keenlyside was impressive in a relatively small role. Some people argue it wasn't a small role; I contend that he made it seem much bigger than it was, but he spent relatively little time on stage. Renato Bruson had withdrawn and was replaced by a chap by the name of...Caruso. Carmelo Corrado Caruso. He wasn't bad, notwithstanding a wobble at the start of Act 4.

The strangest thing was the tenor in the title role, Giuseppe Filianoti, reportedly the next big thing. Intriguing. A very beautiful voice. Good-looking. Engaging stage presence. But, in his showpiece aria at the end of Act 2, it was very strange. I had been warned that he had sung it flat on Saturday so I was alert. In the first verse I was thinking - I can certainly say he's not sharp - and when the second verse came I knew he had been flat in the first. Each verse finished with a vocal pyrotechnic, which was sung twice at the end of the second. On the first two attempts it was a bit strained and unpleasant. On the third attempt he just missed it entirely, and the auditorium took a collective breath. The very elderly chap next to me jerked bolt upright and banged his fist on the padded rail in front. It seemed such a shame because for the rest of the opera, I kept hearing this absolutely gorgeous voice and wondering where it was coming from (I had a slightly restricted view so couldn't see him without leaning forward).

As well as Filianoti cracking and Caruso wobbling, a 'period' horn flubbed a solo passage (much as I like period instruments, maybe there's a reason they invented modern horns) and a mobile phone went off.

The orchestra otherwise were superb and the chorus sounded wonderful. I shall remember the Requiem for a long time, but it seems that there is good reason that this opera has been buried in obscurity for so long. I didn't feel able to care greatly about the story or the characters, and the music had its moments rather than long periods of sustained loveliness. And the Final Act ended as a dramatic wet squib.

Professional reviews: Never mind the quality ..., from the Guardian, Treasure trove in the grand style, Independent, Times.

Tenorino with dusky eyelashes

Actually, it's totally unfair to call him a tenorino, which is not a nice thing to say about this outstanding tenore di grazia. On the whole, I prefer my tenors' voices to be darker, but I like JDF enough to have two of his CDs and I want to see him again at Covent Garden. At 32, he is one of the younger of the 'New Golden Age' tenors gracing our stages. He has a very beautiful voice - 'bel canto', although this CD includes arias by the likes of Verdi, and he has said that he has no interest in going into Verdi - his schedule for the next year includes Rossini, Donizetti, and Bellini. There's no one who sings this repertoire like him.

I saw him in Don Pasquale last December, an opera I never got round to reviewing on here, which was silly of me, because it was delightful. But I did do a quick summary elsewhere:

I have recently come back from this at the ROH. To be honest, I was feeling tired from the culmination of two much hecticness so wasn't able to appreciate it as much as I ought to have done.

(I thought a few months ago that I didn't know this, but it is imprinted fairly well on my brain from  years ago)

I didn't feel that the orchestra was at its best. I've read poor reviews here, and elsewhere, about the conductor, so I base my conclusions on that...!

I was very much impressed by Tatiana Lisnic as Norina, both singing and acting. I'll definitely want to hear her again.

I thought Simone Alaimo to be okay, nothing special.

I really can't make my mind up about Juan Diego Florez. For some of the time I was thinking - "better on record than in the house" than I would hear the most beautiful sound and revise my opinion.

I thought the duet in the final act,  Tornami a dir che m'ami, was
exquisitely beautiful, and I just wanted to sigh afterwards. The house was very lacklustre, and I was surprised at the meagre, almost begrudging applause at this part.

I really enjoyed the staging - perhaps this is the girlie in me but I so loved the dolls' house. I am not sure about JDF's blonde wig. the woman next-but-one wailed to me at the end "Juan Diego's so gorgeous and it's not fair they put him in that wig..."

But I managed to get a fairly okay photo. All I can say is that my shots are improving. This from Row A of the amphitheatre.

Back to the Great Tenor Arias. This CD contains two of my favourites anyway - La donna è mobile, and, as it's called here J'ai perdu mon Euridice - I actually prefer Kathleen Ferrier's 'What is Life?', but he certainly does a beautiful rendition. Of the less familiar, I particularly like Loin de son amie vivre sans plaisirs from Halévy's La Juive and La speranza più soave già quest'alma lusingava from Rossini's Semiramide.

I must make special mention of some fine orchestra playing of the Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi under Carlo Rizzi.

This CD is of Bellini and Donizetti arias. I quite like these composers, but not quite as much I want to like them, if you get me. Donozetti's writing is beautiful, but, in the end, I am left thinking that it's beautiful in a very shallow way. And the title track is absolutely gorgeous...

The most perfunctory google will reveal a great number of fan sites of this special talent. But what this man is in desperate need of is a proper official website, not just one provided seemingly rather grudgingly by Decca. Many people regard him as physically irresistable. I don't, personally, but I would gladly watch him and look forward to many years in his company. Performance Channel show from time to time an open-air concert of his from Amsterdam. Definitely worth seeing.