That gala in New York

First off, a comment I left at Parterre Box

I’m really shocked they didn’t have cameras. Someone must have gone through the thought process of considering and then rejecting the idea, disregarding the opportunities to play to cinemas around the world, live and/or delayed, sell the rights to TV companies, and market a DVD which would be snapped up by fans of any of the singers who performed. Unbelievable.

When Wien had their 50th anniversary of post-war rebuilding, they broadcast live in many European countries, even the dumbed down island to the east of Ireland. And then they made a DVD.

The gala did double duty as a tribute to Plácido Domingo on the 40th anniversary of his Met debut. In excerpts from four operas, Mr. Domingo sang impressively, and he looked overcome by the tumultuous ovation he received at the end.

Mr. Domingo was Dick Johnson for “Fanciulla,” singing the soaring aria from the final act, taken down in pitch to accommodate his vocal comfort zone at 68. His voice may be a little weathered. Still, with the sheen, power and charisma of his inspired singing, decades were wiped away.

He was also strong in the final scene from Wagner’s “Parsifal,” with Thomas Hampson in fine voice as the suffering Amfortas, and in the death scene from Verdi’s “Otello.” The title role, which Mr. Domingo put on the shelf some years ago, was once his calling card.

Most interesting, however, was an extended duet from Verdi’s “Simon Boccanegra,” with Mr. Domingo singing the title role for baritone, a part he will bring to the Met next season. Ms. Gheorghiu was Amelia, a role that suits her well. Though Mr. Domingo sang with comfort, the colorings of his voice made Boccanegra seem like a tenor. This will be a fascinating experiment.
 

New York Times

the voices, with one unbelievable exception, mostly belonged to singers in their 30s and 40s...The unbelievable exception, who was also being honored last night, was a singer who made his Met debut 40 years ago but remains a singer of extraordinary power. That, of course, is Placido Domingo. Presumably when the voice does begin to falter -- no time soon, I hope -- he will finally impart the secret of whatever Elixir of Youth he uses to lubricate his vocal cords. It seems truly miraculous that anyone in his late 60s can sing so well.

His first appearance last night was next to a noose in "Girl of the Golden West," as the cowboy hero, Dick Johnson. When the audience realized it was Domingo there was tumultuous applause. When he finished singing, the voice still golden, the vibrato still firm, the applause was even more tumultuous, and deservedly so.

He next appeared in a new role, that of the title character in Verdi's "Simon Boccanegra." For many years he has been a thrilling Gabriel Adorno, the heroic tenor, but now he sings the patriarchal baritone part. It was a sign of what a serious evening it was, apart from all the glitz, that it included the scene in which Boccanegra is reunited with his daughter, one of Verdi's most dramatic father-daughter confrontations.

This is not what you'd consider conventional gala material, but it is a sign of the mindset of the Met that its music director, of whom more later, insisted it be a part. Domingo and Angela Georghiu sang it magnificently.

At the end of the first act Domingo joined with Thomas Hampson in a memorable scene from "Parsifal." Domingo's excursion into Wagner around the time most tenors think about retirement is yet another amazing facet of this career.

Domingo's last contribution was Otello's death scene. Here again nothing about the voice suggested age, and only a singer so experienced could convey the depth of the music. How lucky we have been to be opera-lovers in the age of Domingo!

Cultural Tourist

Splendour and abundance

Domingo  appeared in four guises. At 68, he can be forgiven for avoiding lofty vocal heights – never really his speciality anyway. For all his verismo urgency, he lowered “Ch’ella mi creda” from Puccini’s Fanciulla del West (staged in the manner of David Belasco’s premiere production of 1910) to the point where it sounded uncomfortably like a baritone aria. Surrounded by hints of 1903 scenery and ably supported by Thomas Hampson as Amfortas, our hero mustered a reasonable facsimile of heldentenor prowess as Wagner’s Parsifal. Accompanied by the incongruously voluptuous Angela Gheorghiu (oh, that décolletage) in the recognition scene from Verdi’s Simon Boccanegra, he offered an astonishing preview of bona fide baritonal attractions. Finally, he invoked worthy images of Leo Slezak (1909) in a noble account of Otello’s suicide.

 

Official photos