Gertsamtkunstwerk

Fedora at Holland Park

Which is where I was on Thursday evening, a beautiful night for a spot of' country house' opera in Inner London. Indeed, as I sat on the bus going along Bayswater Road I rather regretted that I had not walked; when I worked at Kensington Town Hall I occasionally walked through the parks to Hyde Park Corner on barmy summer evenings. I also regretted that walking from Hyde Park Corner to Holland Park would probably wipe me out for the week nowadays.

Fedora is most definitely a second-rate opera, which is not to say it is without merit. The music is pleasant throughout, the story is linear and moves along swiftly with plenty of opportunity for emotion. The production was traditional and simple. I suspect if it were an opera I knew well I would be a bit frustrated at the simplicity. And for blogging purposes, it's difficult to say anything insightful about a simple, traditional production.

It is written by Umberto Giordano, who also wrote Andrea Chenier, and in my view it isn't as strong, and certainly not as heart-stirringly emotive as Chenier. Synopsis and background. A tragic love story. Her fiancé is murdered; she befriends the murderer to seek revenge; he says he murdered fiancé because fiancé was cheating with his wife; they fall in love; she finds out that his brother has been executed as a result of her letter to the authorities; she takes poison and dies.

The orchestra - the City of London Sinfonia, under Brad Cohen, sounded perfectly fine to me. Obviously, a company like Holland Park is not going to get the stellar cast of the ROH or even ENO, but there is no shortage of good singers around.

Fedora was played by Yvonne Kenny. Unlike a certain blogger who is travelling all the way from New Zealand especially, I wouldn't call myself an Yvonne Kenny fan. On the downside I have to quote a seat-neighbour "coming to the end of her career"and "sings well in mezzo". On th epositive side, she gave a convincing and committed portrayal, and an intelligent musical interpretation. Overall she was good.

There was a strong cast in depth, notably Stephen Gadd (De Siriex), Catrin Johnsson (Dmitri) and Grant Doyle (Ciriilo) - two pleasing performances from Grant Doyle in the space of nine days speaks volumes to me.

However, and lets save the best for last. Forget all of the above. I'm not sure if there are any tickets left for remaining performances, but if there were and I wasn't totally skint, I'd be in the queue just to hear the tenor again.

Aldo di Toro. Remember that name, note it down. What a voice! I have heard some bloody good tenors so far this year - Calleja, Villazon, Domingo. To that list I have to add Di Toro. Mike had posted on rmo that he was a 'real find' and quoted the Standard's review that he was 'astonishing'.

For accuracy's sake I would argue that perhaps he requires a little more polish to be the entire finished article. But to be candid, with a voice like that, who cares about polish! What a voice! I have a 'thing' about tenors, which doesn't mean that I like all tenors. Far from it. But I would describe Aldo di toro as sweet, ardent, lyrical, musical, a ringing tone, squillo, and that certain 'something' indescribable which hits my T-spot. The guy can act, and while I wouldn't call him drop-dead gorgeous he's easy on the eye. I'm just purring at the thought of roles I would love to see him in. And hear him! All those wonderful Verdi/Puccini lyrico-spinto roles. Drool Drool! Some details here (scroll down) - he's Australian.

An opera is about more than arias, but, let's be honest, the most famous part of this opera is Amor ti vieta, which has been a showpiece for all the great tenors since Caruso. And tonight it was delivered with pasion and ardour

The Times

says a muscular, personable and entirely Italianate tenor in Aldo Di Toro... From the minute when Loris declares his love for the widow of the man he murdered, Di Toro is indefatigable.

Fabulous said the Guardian.

The Stage "his strong tone consistently impresses".

Bloomberg He has a firm, rounded and passionate sound, and brings all the lyric possibilities of the part to the fore.

Aldo Di Toro has a wonderfully natural, open sound throughout the range - a name to watch. says the Independent.

...a promising Australian tenor with the splendidly Italianate name of Aldo di Toro cut an elegant figure and sang with a firm line and sweet tone: I hope we hear more of him.

says The Telegraph. Great opening line, BTW, "BAD operas don't come much better than Fedora."

And MusicOMH

From the ridiculous...

I have not spent May operatically only in seeing Cyrano de Bergerac: life is not that straightforward. So the merry month of May also involved a so-so operetta at English National Opera...

A week and a half ago, I joined the Sossled Night Out at ENO's La Belle Helene, an Offenbach Operetta, with libretto translated by Kit Hesketh-Harvey.  I think the main purpose for the night was to ogle

It was a pretty good cast, the highlights being Toby as well as Felicity Lott and Bonaventura Bottone. It was performed rather splendidly, and it was clear that they were all having a great deal of fun in this light-hearted satire on Ancient Greek Legends. It was a colourful production, with lots of semi-nudity, some soprano-rolling on the floor, some inappropriate running over sun-loungers (although not quite furniture abuse) but very little in the way of a gay subtext. And sheep. Do not underestimate the importance of dancing sheep in opera.

But, when all is said and done, musically it was an inconsequential pastiche of different styles and eminently forgettable. Definitely an opera for a girls' night out rather than to be taken seriously as a solo visitor. I suppose the trouble with operetta is that there is a great deal of spoken word, and however adequately these may be declaimed, very few singers have the ability to speak convincingly in the theatre in the way we would expect actors in a top West End theatre (and remember that the Colisseum is the largest theatre in the West End). The humour was quite forced, and we groaned along in good spirit rather than laughing out loud. Very much one to enter in the "Entertainment" rather than "Art" column of the ledger.

Afterwards we stood outside the Stage Door, but Toby Spence had slipped off and escaped being SOSSLED. We found Flott to be delightful, and also had a lovely chat with Bonaventura Bottone, who we found to be really nice.

Other bloggers also attended at various stages in the run: Simon left at half-time; Barbara and Robert enjoyed themselves; as did the previously-unknown-to-mmofm Tamaranth.

Various reviews

Trawling through the online press for various seen and unseen and yet to be seen.

Matthias Goerne - the Guardian, like me, seemed to enjoy the Berg more than the Schumann or Wagner. The Independent

The Guardian didn't like Götterdämmerung

Ambivalence from the Independent

I think the Times headline of Simply Delightful  applies to Orfeo rather than Götterdämmerung. But even though I don't especially disagree with the detail of what the critic says, I disagree with the overall tone and conclusion. The Observer hates it  Music OMH has a far more sensible take, suggesting perhaps that the critics in the Mainstream media are, in general, jaded, and could do with an infusion of new blood. Although I doubt the date of June 27th for televising, for reasons I have laid out elsewhere

I couldn't figure out how to fit Orfeo into my diary, which is a disappointment but I'll live. The Independent praises it highly but is stingy with stars awarded.  Trendy mix of modern and mythic, The Times really likes it.  MusicOMH. MV Daily includes loads of striking pictures.  Oh well, I'm sure it will  be revived.

I did not get round to writing up The Indian Queen. I actually left at the interval, with ambivalence. I was glad I had been there for the first half but I had no desire to stay any longer. I think the Guardian is pushing it by saying that the singing was faultless, although a couple of the sopranos did impress. But in the end I was unable to get emotionally involved or musically hooked.

It was  billed as an opera, but it seems a strange opera where there are specific characters but none of them are played by specific singers. Instead, the story is narrated by an actor and the singers, known only by their vocal type, step up to do numbers. And I felt that the music was not of a sufficiently high standard to make it especially worthwhile.

Update Vince has snazzled the text  of the FT G'd'rung review - saves all that pesky registration/deadlinks mullarkey.

Update La Belle Helene at ENo, reviewed by Robert.

La Belle Helene

She'll always have Paris

It's a very long time before I go and see this but I see no harm in posting a few links to it.

With man-boobs like that, Toby Spence is a long way from becoming the new Simon "Shirtless" Keenlyside. The Guardian's tepid review.

The Times isn't too keen, either.

Nor is the Independent

The Telegraph is more positive.

Whereas Music OMH reflects the comments I have read on newsgroups

Sir John in Love

It probably isn't a good thing to go to operas on two consecutive days, although such a thing will happen again in May, for sure.

But despite all my dithering I knew deep inside that I ought to go to this one. Perhaps "ought" isn't a good enough reason, either. Sir John in Love is by Vaughan Williams and is based upon Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor. A strong cast, as ENO said, mixing Youth and Experience, and containing half a dozen names worth making the effort for.

Vaughan Williams, one of Britain's finest composers, wrote a ravishingly buoyant score for his 'Falstaff' opera, which has been described as one long chain of melodies. It is permeated with English folksongs, including the great British favourite Greensleeves. The vivacious characters are brought to life by an exemplary British cast,

says ENO.

First off, I will say that almost without exception it was wonderfully acted. Top marks to Andrew Shore as Falstaff, a real star performance, and there was nobody that came across badly. And Robert Tear and Jean Rigby both acted far far better than their singing. There were some examples of excellent singing: Shore, Marie McLaughlin and Iain Paterson were my stand outs; hon menshes also to Alistair Miles (who was probably better than how I heard him, because it was a deep bass role), Sarah Fox, and to Andrew Kennedy, who I have decided that I would like to see in a proper role, because at times he really hit my T-spot. He also gets my award for "Most Hyperactive Tenor of the Week" against formidable opposition...

Some of the music was magnificent. I single out the orchestral rendering of Greensleeves, exemplifying everything I like about Vaughan Williams. There was also some terrific orchestra work in the closing scene which managed to salvage the evening for me. I shall leave the final scene for a moment. But most of the score was dire. I can't stand that twee Merrie England folksiness tripping gaily through the meadow. Cowpat music, I think.

I thought the score was patchy at best. One tune, nicked from one of Henry VIII's courtiers, does not an opera make. I thought for the most part the vocal lines were horrible, and I feel loath to criticise the singers who delivered them, even though I felt that there were quite a few voices straining unlyrically in a way that made me judge them as too small for the house. The plot was amusing, but the libretto/dramaturgy really failed to give any insight into the human condition.

The dreadful libretto/dramaturgy combined with an awful staging to make the evening drag interminably. I am sure I could sit through the entire sixteen hours of Wagner's Ring and be not as bored as I was. Three hours into the second Act I lost the will to live, very jealous of the couple behind who had declared at halftime "It's a waste of money if we stay, and a waste of money if we go." They went. At least I got an insight into the relativity of Time, when I realised that a three week opera can actually be fitted in between half past seven and quarter past ten.

Much of the problem with the staging was the sheer wasted energy. There were a great number of chorus members and extras, who weren't exactly standing around but hadn't been given any clear directions on when to move. The sets were uninspired junk, with a house made of matchsticks acting as the focal point. For certain scenes they split it in two, which just irritated me because one half had no upstairs.

But the second worst bit was a scene in the country, where the scenery consisted of two dimensional cut-out cardboard greenery and a two-dimensional cut out cardboard cow. My colleagues could have done a better cardboard cow in 1991 when I moved to Agriculture Division - and, guess what, they did.

But the very worst aspect of all was the accents. Everyone else seems to think they were Mockney and Fake Somerset, but I swear they were the worst attempt ever at bucolic Norfolk.

Thankfully the final scene was a semi-coup de theatre with a half hearted attempt to make the tree look realistic, and there was a pretty impressive bonfire. The music for this scene was enjoyable, too, but frankly, it's not been staged anywhere in the world since 1958, and, if it takes another forty-eight years to be staged again, well, I shall be eighty-six and have an excuse to stay at home. Or maybe not - I want to be Rose Hacker. But I'll give Sir John in Love a miss.

Edward Seckerson in the Independent This comedy of errors falls flat, tepid says the Times. The FT loves it; Too Much `Hey-Nonny-Nonny' Deadens ENO's `Sir John in Love' . And someone travelled all the way from California and set up a blog specially - here's their review of the performance.

Audience observations. To my right were a couple, who seemed rather mismatched to me. I don't think it was a first date but I have my suspicions it will soon run its course. He was late twenties and earnest and thoughtful, she was early twenties, and seemed to be a spoilt attention seeker. When they arrived she had an enormous tub of ice-cream and spent the first twenty minutes shovelling it into her gob, before he suggested that she stopped scraping the spoon noisily along the tub. Before it had even started he suggested he would take her to Nixon in China.

Throughout the entire opera she spent her entire time fidgeting. To some extent, I have sympathy, because it was boring. But she made no effort to concentrate, perhaps concentration it isn't one of her core competencies, but she behaved like a spoilt small child high on e-numbers. When I returned at the end of the interval, she was sitting alone in her seat, and the boyfriend returned a considerable time later. As we left, he, rather desolately, said "Well, perhaps it might have been better if you'd known what was going on, most of the performances have surtitles." I think by then she had lost the will to live and no doubt her anecdotes in the future will include "I had this boyfriend once - would you believe he took me to an opera. Boring shit, I don't know what was worse, the boring opera or the boring boyfriend. I'm well shut of him."

Dido and Aeneas

Some time ago I taped off the Performance Channel a production of Dido and Aeneas by Purcell. Being the Performance channel it's shown about once every three months.

I actually wrote a rough draft of a review, then I thought, what's the point?

The dreadful production and the patchy singing (ie one or two decent singers, the others, especially Maria Ewing really bad) could not ruin beautiful music conducted gorgeously by Richard Hickox. But it wa sonly the music that survived.

Best aria When I am Laid in Earth is simply gorgeous. Shame Maria Ewing made such a pigs ear of it.

The only thing I can say is, whatever you do, do not watch this on the TV. You will not ever get that hour of your life back. Instead, I intend to buy a CD.

Opera Nights recommends thi sone conducted by René Jacobs, with the cast including, ooh, Gerald Finley. Conventional wisdom says it has to be this one with Janet Baker

The Performance Channel annoys me a lot. It has some absolute gems in its repertory but it seems to show a lot of rubbish they obviously acquired because it was cheap rather than it having any artistic merit.

In fact, it more than annoys me. Suppose someone were to watch that ghastly production of Dildo and Anus and think that's what Baroque Opera is all about? They'd be deterred for life. And that, to me, is verging on the criminal.

It's also available on video. Let's hope it never comes to DVD.

La Cenerentola

Some time ago I decided to go through my entire collection of operas on CD, video, DVD, in alphabetical order.

If you have been following this series, you will have noticed that it seems to have run out of steam.

This is partly because I am voraciously expanding my collection as we speak, and there are only so many hours in the day.

But it is also partly the fault of Rossini.

  I got this DVD - which translates as Cinderella - in the Del Prado Season of Opera PartWorks series. I played it once and quite enjoyed it, without being captivated or even enthused. It then came up to be reviewed alphabetically, and I just couldn't bring myself to play it for ages. I thought of doing it as a sort of pre-Christmas treat, then a few weeks ago I played nearly all of Act 1. I decided to abandon it, deciding that I don't really like it.

And if you don't like it, there's not a lot one can say about it.

The story's great - but I hardly need to provide a synopsis here, except to say that the Fairy Godmother isn't there (she's behind you, oh no she isn't...) - instead there's a Wizard, who's the Prince's tutor, or something.  The music isn't bad, and Cecilia Bartoli in particular sings well. Someone moaned about her facial expressions, but that's Cecilia Bartoli - if you're a fan, you like the facial expressions. And cleavage. Always cleavage with Cecilia.

It's just that the music isn't especially good. I shall just have to accept that I am not a Rossini fan. I won't go as far as to say I dislike him, but he just bores me. The Barber of Seville is saved by a couple of decent arias - okay, one great aria - but I couldn't go that far with this one. The music, especially in recitative, is just too imitative of Mozart, without the special transcendental magic of Mozza. I suppose if Covent Garden revived it with Cecilia Bartoli and Juan Diego Florez I might drag my sorry arse off to see it from the cheap seats, but otherwise, nah...

So, when I have played my currently unopened DVDs of Don Carlo, Lucia di Lammermoor, Salome and Serse and the newly ordered Otello (as yet unreleased) and Ballo,  and Tosca, which sits unplayed on my Sky Box, I shall be back with a review of La Clemenza di Tito, which is a long way from being my favourite Mozart opera. That will be followed by Cosi, of which I have a fairly dire production on video, the saving grace being the wonderful music, and Cecilia Bartoli. With cleavage, of course.

A Child of Our Time

This really shouldn't be filed under 'opera', because it is an oratorio, but I saw it this evening staged by English National Opera. Just one other performance, a week today.

I have to say that I hope it is never staged again. An interesting experience, but one that failed abysmally. It was written as an oratorio. I'm sure if Michael Tippett had intended it to be an opera, he would have written it as such. Or requested that it be staged at some point in his long life. He started writing it in 1939, it received its debut in 1944. He died in 1998. Tonight was the first ever staged performance. I have no doubt that ENO chose to perform it this week because it is approaching Holocaust Memorial Day.

I do not know the work, and I now feel that I have been depriving myself all these years. The two years below me had this on their O-Level music syllabus. My year and that before me had as their modern British work Arnold's Scottish Dances. My sister's year had Horowitz's Captain Noah and His Floating Zoo (not as good as Summer Sunday, or indeed Cinderella, which my brother and I saw the composer conduct). I think the years that studied this were jealous of us, because they really didn't like it. And I can't understand why. There were at least two school parties there this evening, probably no more than 11 or 12 years old.

It combines the structure of a traditional oratorio - Messiah, St Matthew Passion - with modern (at the time) music. A light jazz influence here, spirituals there. I wonder if the Spirituals he used were already popular, or whether this work help to popularise them into the folk hymn books that emerged in the 70s.

Performance wise it was at its most powerful at the end, when the soloists assembled at the front of the stage, with a static chorus behind them, close to the traditional performance of oratorio. The least effective aspects was when there was movement round staging. Wholly unsatisfying staging, utterly two dimensional, and with its University Dramsoc feel it seemed just to trivialise the desperately serious subject matter. The sight of actors wandering round in off-white underwear was most distracting. I prefer my actors to be fully clothed or fully naked. I can't stand off-white underwear.

There was some inexplicable use of trap doors. At one stage an actor was placed in a tomb, and then a tree was planted. It finished with most of the chorus standing on squares of turf looking for all the world like they had been sold off from a football stadium about to be shut down.

The house lights were completely down, so it was impossible to read the libretto, yet the singing did not sufficiently enunciate the words so there was no meaning, and the staging was meaningless.

I paid £22.50 for an indifferent seat and 75 minutes of performance from an eminently competent, but not world-class chorus and soloists and with no view of the audience. Tomorrow night gives me, at £27, a very good seat for the 75-minute Beethoven's 9th with a couple of internationally-renowned soloists, a world famous conductor, and Beethoven's 8th thrown in for good measure. I already know what will be better value for money.

To conclude, the singing was okay - Timothy Robinson in particular, who I have repeatedly found to be a very good oratorio singer. At the beginning the chorus were annoying me with what sounded like very sloppy 'sh's'. I'm sure I was only in Infant School when I was taught the importance of watching the conductor to ensure that all 'sh's' (or 't's) are pronounced simultaneously so that the audience does not hear a continuous 'sh'. Perhaps it was done deliberately for effect, perhaps it was even written that way. Either way, it sounded bad.

To conclude - I'm glad I made the effort to be introduced to the music, and I intend hearing it again. But in future I shall stick to a proper concert performance, because it is, after all, an oratorio, not an opera.

The Bach Choir and Philharmonia are performing it on 11 May. I already know it will be vastly superior. This has now been added to my 'to book' list*. This year is Tippett's Centenary.

* note to self: along with Dido and Aeneas and Silete Venti - no I've never heard of it either...

Update: The Times already has a review, which broadly concurs with mine.

Cavalleria Rusticana

An opera chiefly famous for two pieces. Mainly the Intermezzo, which is on just about every decent compilation set in your collection. Also, and to a lesser extent, the Easter Hymn, which, if you had never heard Va pensiero from Nabucco you would believe to be the greatest opera chorus ever written. At least, I did throughout my teens and into my twenties, and even now I tend to if I've heard it more recently than the Verdi. But there is no way that Mascagni could have written Easter Hymn if Verdi hadn't written the Chorus of Hebrew Slaves.

What comes around goes around. I defy anybody to listen to the overture without hearing The Sound of Music. I suppose, musicologically, it acts a bridge between Verdianism and Broadway Musicals. Or is that Puccini (who wrote most of Andrew Lloyd Webber's music. Allegedly)? And I see a bit G&S creeping in as well in the Brindisi.

Cav, as its commonly known so as not to confuse it with Pag, with which it's commonly coupled, is an ideal beginner's opera. At just under 80 minutes, it fits neatly onto one CD, which was very prescient of Signor Mascagni - imagine how embarrassed he would be now if it lasted for 83 minutes, and thus needed more than just one disc.

Seriously, being that it's barely over an hour, if you know the intermezzo, Easter Hymn and Sound of Music, you can quickly make up your mind about whether musically you like this opera.

With the possible exception of Barber's six minute A Hand of Bridge, this opera contains the best name, ever, of a character. I was decided at age 14 that if I ever had a daughter, she would be called Santuzza.

I have a version on video, captured off th'telly mere weeks ago. It's from Bologna, conducted by Maestro Muti, starring José Cura and Waltraud Meier.

One of the top 'verismo' operas, written about the grottiness of everyday life and lacking the Can Belto of the previous Bel Canto style.

Strangely this is unique in my collection in that the video lacks subtitles, and the CD lacks a libretto, so I haven't a clue what happens in this opera. Something about a bloke and a woman, and another woman. And it all ends in tears. With the tenor being killed in a duel at the end. Although is only hinted at.

A significant enough proportion of the music fits into the gorgeous category. I don't think it would ever be in my Top Ten, but I think it's tuneful and accessible, and I would come back to it again and again. Indeed, if you are not particularly a fan of opera and singing but do like lush tuneful orchestral playing, you should try this.

And if you don't like it, you've always got Vesti la giubba to look forward to after the interval.

Sets and costumes are very colourless and drab, a bit of 30s-style social realism. The tenor is a hunk; Good heavens, it's Jose Cura looking a lot more hunky than the other day. Santuzza (Waltraud Meier) is dramatically brilliant, with a rich dramatic voice.

I also possess this on CD, coupled, of course, with Pagliacci. But Pag will be discussed in its turn. This is with the orchestra and chorus from La Scala, under Georges Pretre, starring Plácido Domingo and Elena Obraztsova. I find Obraztsova far too screechy in this. Pl�cido, of course, sounds gorgeous.

It's funny, having known the chorus and the intermezzo well for years, I realised I only properly listened to the whole opera in order to write this blog entry. I think perhaps because of its shortness, I have tended to use it more as background.

That's why DVDs, and the ability to record off minority-interest TV Channels are Good Things. As is blogging. Because they make me concentrate on the music, and I'm generaly not very good at concentrating. In fact, it would be fair to say that my single biggest, almost all-consuming fault is my inability to nice weather for the time of year don't you think.

Faust at Covent Garden

I'm feeling lazy, so why write the same review twice - I previously posted this to rec.music.opera...

An early revival of the production from June of this year, then starring Meatloaf and the Lasagnes, and with tickets unavailable for love nor money, this time not starring stellar names, and tickets easy to come by.

The cast was: Piotr Beczala (Faust), John Tomlinson (Mephistopheles), Elena Kelessidi (Marguerite), Dalibor Jenis (Valentin) and Katija Dragojevic (Siebel); c/d Maurizio Benini.

Having watched the original on the TV - which was discussed at some length back in June - I knew what to expect from the production, but felt it looked far more impressive in real life. My absolutely favourite bit was the ballet, but I'm allowed to say that, because I'm a girly.

The music throughout was glorious and I've just elevated it into my Top Ten.

I really liked the rapid switch in emotions. There were moments when I was halfway through a giggle and felt a lump in my throat; or a tear was about to fall, when I just had to laugh.

Performances. Well, Piotr Beczala was...interesting. For the first two and a half acts, I was not much taken with his voice. Nothing wrong per se, but it sounded to me very forced at the top, a bit like those old singers on old 78s that my father used to play ;-) Not my taste. I can't really explain how the Salut Demeure sounded - predominantly almost falsetto, but not, and certainly not like a counter-tenor.

And then, his voice seemed to change, and I found myself really getting to like it through the remaining two-and-a-half acts. Far more resonance and colour and depth. And he moved well round stage, looked fine in body and face (not celebrity crush material but aesthetically acceptable)

He's back in Rigoletto (alongside Paolo Gavanelli and Anna Netrebko) next July, alternating with Rolando Villazon. Rolando (with Dmitri Hvorostovsky and Ekaterina Siurina) would still be my first choice, but any disappointment in seeing Piotr would be because it would probably mean I hadn't been able to get tickets for Rolando.

I couldn't find fault with John Tomlinson, but I found him rather
disappointing. The only newspaper review I read highly praised him. A good performance, singing and acting, solid, but without, IMO, bringing anything remarkable to it.

Elena Kelessidi was forgettable. At times there was some beauty in her voice but there were far more times when notes seemed to be missing, like somebody's handled a dodgy cassette, which I found unsettling. I didn't really feel that there was much going on in the acting department.

Dalibor Jenis was a non-event, and even received a boo from someone a couple of rows behind. I think that was uncalled for, but he just sang the songs fair-to-middling and made the moves.

I really liked Katija Dragojevic. Singing, good, acting better.

And just to add a few observations.

I walked into the amphitheatre bar and the barman greeted me. When he took my interval order, he didn't ask my name - just wrote it down. slinks away in embarrasment

I'm not sure what was going onto the left of me but we seemed to have been invaded by the Incredible Talking Person, who obviously misunderstood the relative quiet of the opening prelude as a good opportunity to finish her conversation without being drowned out by the pesky orchestra. Until a very sharp and penetrating "sshh-ssshh' from an ex-Sergeant Major/minor public school master caused the relief of all around.

She turned into the Incredible Paper Rustling Person at the start of Act 5, leaving the right hand end of the central bank of Rows of S and T in convulsions of silent giggles, giggles increased when she shone her torch (or phone?) to aid in her paper rustling.

After the performance I walked along Long Acre. Well, apart from the bit where I entirely failed to spot a lurking kerb-stone, which sent me arse over tit crashing head first to the ground. Mainly wounded pride, but a grazy hurty knee which was stiff this morning, and a general jarred-feeling. the couple walking to my right and slightly behind checked I was okay. I thanked them. As my cheeks burned red with humiliation...

I really really like the music and story of Faust.

Werther

I knew nothing about this opera until a week ago. In fact, I couldn't even pronounce it until Monday of this week. It's by Massanet, most famous of all for Thais, or rather, for the Mediatation therefrom.

But influenced by reviews on rec.music.opera, I decided to take the plunge and booked a ticket. For this evening.

It's a very simple story. Werther, the poet, meets Charlotte, and falls in love with her. They spend time together. But she is engaged to, and later marries, Albert, as she promised to her dead mother. He goes away, comes back, finds that she is still in love with him, but married, so he goes away again, sends a note asking for pistols, Albert sends them, and Charlotte runs after Werther who dies slowly and beautifully.

Four short acts - so I'm not sure why they needed two intervals. One after forty minutes, one half an hour later, each of twenty five minutes.

Not the greatest opera ever written, not by a long chalk. Good, but not great. Music pleasant, but barely memorable, with only one really showstopping aria - Pourquoi Me R�veiller?

I had quite forgotten just how much I love going to Covent Garden, so much more than any other music venue in London. There's something about the place that has magic and tingle. A touch of class, but only elitist in the very strict sense of being 'the best'. Walking into building, then walking into the auditorium. I didn't exactly have the best seat in the house, but the sight lines were perfect and the acoustics even better.

The orchestra were just gorgeous. As I say, the music was nothing special, but the orchestra was. Tony Pappano was the conductor.

It's not an opera needing many players - indeed I think there are more children in it than adults. and there's only really two parts that matter. Charlotte was played and sung well by Ruxandra Donose, of whom I have never heard before, but suspect I will hear more, but the real star of the show was Marcelo Alvarez. Everything about him is just fabulous, He has a big beautiful voice, and he looks good. Very good. If someone told me they had a celebrity crush on him, I would be completely unsurprised and totally supportive. He just doesn't quite do it for me. A bit too pretty perhaps?

But the voice is what matters, and the voice was wonderful. I do like my tenors to have a rich bottom, and he certainly does. Not such an amazing top, perhaps, but far more than adequate, and great expressiveness. He moves well on stage, and appears to be a good actor - although this wasn't a part requiring great acting skills - only "I'm in love, I'm broken hearted, I'm dying".

I can't wait until April when I hope to see him more than once in Ballo. I have no doubt that his voice will meet my high expectations; I shall see about the acting. I was particularly impressed by the death scene. As they embraced and kissed I felt that I was intruding into a private matter, and felt embarrassed and nosey to raise my binoculars. He sang for quite a stretch from a horizontal position and did it well.

The sets were beautiful, if minimalist. I particularly loved their use of diagonal lines - the first act in a garden, with a drinking fountain on a wall. The second act was a walled terrace which reminded me for all the world of Lyme Park, with a chapel in the background, which reminded me of an incredibly tiny chapel I once went to in Pembrokeshire. The third act was an interior, with wooden floor, and just three pieces of heavy oak furniture. It reminded me of numerous stately homes I have visited, but most specifically of some historic building in Philadelphia - I smelt myself back there.

The final act was interesting. Rather than using the whole stage, a box was used, which against used diagonal lines because it wasn't cuboid, but tapering away. This contained Werther's bedroom, and was a stroke of genius, because the final scene was so very intimate and claustrophobic, and that effect would have been lost perhaps on the full stage. The costumes were sumptuous if not exactly exciting. I particularly liked the opulent royal blue of Marcelo's outfit, contrasted with the equally opulent burgundy of Albert's.

The production as a whole was also fairly minimalist. there wasn't much going on action wise. I suspect that a different director may have thrown in more random background people, or maybe had more action. But it wasn't staid and static. Tasteful, yes.

There's two performances left on 2 and 5 October. If you like gorgeous tenors with gorgeous voices, accompanied by a glistening rich gold orchestra with wonderful brass, in particular, I would recommend it.

But I am so very very looking forward to seeing him in Ballo. In April. I just love Ballo, anyway, and I suspect he will be wonderful.

I shall be buying Tenor's Passion, and may well buy Duetto, depending what I think of Salvatore Licitra in Forza in five weeks time.

Barber of Seville

I got this DVD as a 'bonus' with the first issue of the Del Prado part-work.

I have to say that this is one of the, if not the, most boring operas in my DVD collection. Not as in, oh my god, this is dross, but it just doesn't grab me. I don't feel emotionally invested in any of the characters, despite all round robust performances. The music is pleasant enough, and the sets and costumes are praiseworthy. It's well sub-titled. The acting and singing in all cases is at least adequate, and in some cases - Cecilia Bartoli and Robert Lloyd - very good.

I can't even really slag off the actual opera. The music is always pleasant. It's just boring. The plot seems ridiculous. Which it oughn't to be, because it was based on a play by a censored, satirical play by Beaumarchais. If I was in charge of Directing a version of this, I'd go all Eurotrash and have a mightty explosion at the end that finishes them off. Scrap that, I'd have it once the orchestra had played the really quite sublime Overture, and Figaro had finished his Largo al factotum, bringing Basilio's calumny aria forward. But then, that would obviate the need for Mozart's Marriage of Figaro. And the world would be poorer without it... I'll take the three of on a compilation CD and forget a whole DVD.

Mind you, the reviewers at Amazon really like it, so it must be me.

I think the Glyndebourne one is highly rated.

Andrea Chénier

Last night I gave you one of the most overrated operas in the repertory; tonight it's one of the most underrated.

Umberto Giordano's passionate and most successful opera is set immediately before and during the French Revolution. Andrea Chénier, an idealistic poet, falls in love with Maddalena di Coigny at a reception at her mother's sumptuous chateau. Gerard, formerly a servant in the Coigny household, and now a revolutionary, also loves Maddalena. Elevated to the revolutionary court, he seizes the opportunity to have his rival, Chénier, condemned to death. Ultimately moved by Maddalena's devotion and selflessness in trying to save Chénier, Gérard regrets his actions and tries to save Chénier, but it is too late. With Gérard's help, Maddalena takes the place of a condemned woman and joins Chénier in his cell. As the tumbril arrives, the lovers look forward to their death together.

It's loosely very loosely  based on a true story. The Met site has a fuller synopsis but fails entirely to capture the essence of the piece.

Details: Although from Covent Garden, this is a PAL-compatible NTSC DVD, a definite minus point. I prefer PAL discs for their better quality and for the fact that they often go 16:9; this is 4:3. Unfortunately it's market forces. Opera DVDs don�t shift the volume of Hollywood Blockbusters and it's often uneconomic to have two pressings, so we have to put up with the inferior NTSC, because they can't deal with PAL.

The packaging is only mediocre - it lists 31 chapters, which allows one to find individual arias, but doesn't say which character sings which aria. There is no cast list, so you have to rely on the blurb to find out the three main characters: Chénier - Plácido Domingo; Maddalena - Anna Tomowa-Sintow;  Gérard - Giorgio Zancanaro. The rest of the cast and characters are anyone's guess...

The weak point in the whole production is the lighting. In close-ups it often shines too brightly on the singers, especially as the camera pans in, making them appear pale and washed out at times. It also manages to make the Tricolour adorning the streets of Paris in Act 2 look like an Irish tricolour! I particularly don't like the attempt to emulate daylight in part of Act 2.

Grouses out of the way, it is splendid, and gets better with each watching! The sets are amongst the best I have seen, live or on video, and the costumes are great. I particularly like Andrea Ch�nier's, but you will have to watch it to understand what I mean.

Dramatically the main character is actually Gérard, whose character is the most complex,  and develops the most. This really is a fine performance from Giorgio Zancanaro, who I understand retired prematurely for health reasons. Anna Tomowa-Sintow is frustrating. At times she sounds sublime, at other times ordinary. Her acting is strange - it's sort of taught-learnt facial expressions, which, I suppose is better than the Sutherland-Pavarotti school of non-acting, but still not good enough. 

The star is, of course, Plácido Domingo, and I think that this is probably one of my favourite DVDs of him. He looks absolutely  gorgeous throughout - and totally stunning in the photo on the DVD case. The acting is convincing, he looks like he's feeling the part rather than just repeating rehearsed moves. And then there's the singing, which is him pretty much at his peak.

The First Act Party lays out the background to the French Revolution. The complacency, ignorance and sense of superiority of most of the aristocracy contrast with the revolutionary spirit of the two main men, and the naive compassion of Maddalena.  One look at Andrea Chénier sets my lust off, so I can quite identify with Maddalena, for whom it's clearly lust at first sight.

Musically, it's interesting. The orchestration is worth listening to eg the party music of Act 1, and Act 2's reign of terror wonderfully reflected in chaotic ominous music. None of the arias are 'whistle along in the shower' but the main role has a showstopper in each of four acts - marvellously delivered, it goes without saying...! Maddalena has a great show-stopper, La Mamma Morta in Act 3, which I have heard sung better than here, I have to say. And two duets stand out, near the end of Act 2, when they sing about the supreme hour of love, and the Act 4 Finale, Vicino a te, which is sung and acted so movingly, with gorgeous vocal lines and great orchestra.

I really like the libretto of this. It reads well in English, and, as far as I could tell,  this has a faithful translation from the Italian.

In no way is this a frivolous opera. It was filmed - and shown on TV - in May 1985 but I have no memory of seeing it. Perhaps, in an age before video-owning it was on a night I was out. Because I'm sure I would have watched it, and absolutely loved analysing the social and historical message. Maddalena tells how indebted she is to her servant Bersi who became a prostitute so that the two of them could survive. In my opinion, this was symptomatic of the malaise of the aristocracy - somehow there was more honour in allowing one's servant to be a prostitute on one's behalf than becoming one oneself. And the men are contemptuous of the courtesans, as if they are in that situation out of choice or enjoyment, failing to recognise their desperation.

A real tear-jerker is the scene where Madelon, an old woman who has already lost her son and a grandson in the war, offers her last grandson as a soldier. "The last child of my old blood. I shall die in a few days" The minimalist strings, enhance the portentious, doomed atmosphere.

In Act 3, G�rard is going to rape Maddalena. She decides to yield in order to save Ch�nier. Echoes of Tosca. G�rard changes his mind, because, unlike Scarpia, he is an honourable man. It must have been a terrible sacrifice for women back them, a guarantee of shame. I wouldn't hesitate now, if that was the price to save a life. And yet life was so cheap then. We are shocked at and mourn, every needless, violent, death. The mob were just baying for blood, watching the court sessions as a public spectacle, in between exchanging gossip and the price of food.

And, in the final act, the noble sacrifice, the act of love. Amazing, and not in vain, because in volunteering to die with Chénier, Maddalena saves the life of a young mother condemned to the guillotine.

It is an amazing piece of art, and I suppose the weakest part is the music, which is nice, but simply isn't memorable.

Faust from Covent Garden

Last night's TV. I had been building up my internal hype all week, reaching nearly fever pitch yesterday, assisted by numerous relevant searches to this site, and an increasing number of posts on rmo. Mother phoned about midday, worried about the apparent lack of interval flagged in the Radio Times. I told her to get a downstairs loo installed before 6.30pm. Sister phoned at 6.31 pm fretting about the spanner in the works to our logistics for our Irish reunion next weekend - I told her it was a bad time to phone.

Jimmy was supposed to be going to some blokes do, but Bobby never got back to him on it. If the weather had looked better I would have proposed going to the Covent Garden Piazza. In the event, it rained there, but not here...!

My initial thoughts were posted elsewhere last night and this morning:

But my opinion of Alagna has increased exponentially - if, for no other reason, the way he flung himself around stage.

If I just wanted to hear high 'C's I would go to a recital of...high Cs. But
I want the total experience, which is why I go to opera - or watch it on the
telly. Fortunately, I have my opera-ignorant-novice fiance to explain the
story as we go along...(we make a great team...!).

And I just lurved Bryn Terfel's evening gown...

And Angela's blond wigs.

Excellent entertainment for telly - I was surprised that I knew all the
tunes, even though I thought I didn't know the opera. If I were being picky,
I would find lots of minor flaws. But trying to look at it through the eyes
of someone who's tuned into a terrestrial TV programme by chance, or was
wandering through the Piazza, I would say it was a fun spectacle. And we
felt that RA's cartwheel was at least the match of Wayne Rooney's (England
football star).

But my fave bit was the ballerinas in tutus - I'm on the wrong NG here,
aren't I?

Okay, to be serious, I am not a great fan of Roberto Alagna's voice. I
always think of him as competent - highly competent? - rather than 'doing it
for me'. There wasn't anything in the singing that stood out as a show
stopper, and in the duet with Mephisto at the End of Act 1, it was obvious
even to me, that Bryn was seriously outsinging RA volume wise - unless it
was poor miking.

I also thought that BT took a while to warm up - in Act 1 he sounded flat
(even though I don't know the opera - but had read the reviews). Even I
could work out that AG's French was rubbish. She had moments of pure beauty,
and was generally competent throughout. I don't rate her acting, but I do so
like her voice.

I've just remembered - Alagna as the old Faust was, to me, absolutely
startling - certainly on TV - how it would have come over in the cheap
seats, I'm not sure. But very very impressive - and with the make up he
actually looked at least, ooh, forty...

And I've also just remembered a startling homoerotic interplay between RA
and BT, in IIRC, Act 5.

It was an extravagance of entertainment, an excellent story, some sterling performances, not just from the three principles but also from Simon Keenlyside in particular.

Bryn was marvellous as Mephistopheles. Perhaps a bit of a pantomime baddie - but it worked. I just adored the fact that everytime something was about to happen, he appeared. And I thoroughly enjoyed watching all the different costumes.

Roberto was marvellous - opening as the old Dr Faust was amazing. And I did so like the way he flung himself around stage. I do not agree with what that woman from the Evening Standard said in the interval about him being the 'best acting singer around' but I will concede that he is one of the best. Jimmy said that the silly woman didn't know what she was talking about.

I'm tempted now to get ticket(s) for the Autumn revival - although it will be without Gheorghiu, Alagna, Terfel and Keenlyside.

Reviews of Faust

Update From the Independent
Another- /Update.

From the Financial Times; Telegraph and Guardian

This will be shown on BBC2 on Saturday at 6.30pm (what a shame that Jimmy is having a serious blokes' night out...!)

To summarise:

For sheer eye-popping theatricality, this is a spectacle that outdoes anything you'll see in the West End. The Walpurgisnacht scene, over which Terfel presides in drag, begins as a parody of Giselle, but rapidly disintegrates into an orgy of sadism and rape. Funny, erotic and disturbing by turns, Faust makes for a compelling evening.

Antonio Pappano was in his element, making Gounod's music sparkle with effervescence; Antonio Pappano's fresh, buoyant and affectionate conducting inspired the orchestra to pellucid playing, putting paid to Gounod's undeserved reputation for lachrymose simpering; Only Antonio Pappano's overly Italianate conducting disappoints.

Angela Gheorghiu was in gleaming voice; Angela Gheorghiu makes some ravishing velvet noises and flings herself into the role with passion. But there was too much inaccuracy and sloppiness in her singing (she was heavily prompted), and her French is rubbish; Gheorghiu, unlike most Marguérites, is capable of encompassing both the lyricism of the love scenes and the horror of her subsequent descent into insanity.

Roberto Alagna rang out proudly on Faust's top notes; Roberto Alagna's Faust was marred by patches of bellowing and top notes sustained to the point of vulgarity. Some softer, easier phrases were beautifully done, however, and he, too, acted enthusiastically; The real revelation, however, is Alagna, who gives the performance of a lifetime, physically daring - he celebrates Faust's new-found youth by cartwheeling round the stage - and vocally and dramatically responsive to every psychological shift.

Bryn Terfel made a predictably prodigious Méphistophélès with voice and character to spare. Then the Walpurgisnacht ballet went over the top with Terfel's Méphistophélès throwing off his black cape to reveal himself in drag, dolled up as Queen Victoria's rugby half-back twin sister in tiara and sequined black evening-dress; Bryn Terfel's Mephistopheles was all the better for being so understated - a little rough in the first two acts, perhaps, but chillingly authoritative in the latter part of the opera. His dragged-up appearance as the Comtesse de Castiglione in the ballet was a show-stopper; Terfel sings with panache.

You pay your money, you take your choice - hold on, you pay no money. It's free on the Beeb or in the Covent Garden Piazza!

Interviews with Angela Gheorghiu and Bryn Terfel

Update - do feel free to leave comments - the stern warning at the bottom is to deter silly kids saying 'u sck' rather then shy, intelligent people elevating my thinking...!

Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk

No time just now for a full review. It was slightly bizarre yesterday afternoon being number one on Google for this.

I am so glad that I went. I was a bit anxious about the music. It wasn't exactly Tosca or Traviata or Mikado where you go home humming the tunes, but it was okay. You could say it was drama with the music as incidental background, but that's way too simple.

Everything was excellent from the orchestra to the singing to the acting to the sets, costumes, settings. A truly good night out, theatre at its best. And Covent Garden is such a friendly place - everyone seems to talk to everyody else (in the cheap seats, anyway, god knows what the rich do...). There were some Russians behind who said they had never seen this in Russia; they were arguing, in Russian, about whether it was suppressed in the Soviet era. It must be a bit bizarre, visiting a foreign country, to hear an opera in your own language, but sang mostly by Swedish and British singers, with English surtitles.

And I still contend it is easier to follow a foreign-language opera with surtitles than one translated into English with less than perfect projection and articulation.

More later.

But it's straight drama tonight, in another Gert bad planning move.

Lady Macbeth of Mtensk

Against my better judgement, I'm going to see this in a few days Warming the spirit in a kind of Siberia.

Well, it's a relatively cheap ticket, and if I really hate it, I can chalk it up to experience - it was only last week I declared that I don't like Shostakovich.

Woot! Yay! And Huzzah!

I had a fab evening out. Everything was just perfect. I was a bit worried about getting a *cheap* ticket - as Sandra said, you see it and exclaim "Ye gods!" And I climbed and climbed and climbed to reach the Upper Amphitheatre, where I had an excellent view of the stage and thanked my darling, but absent, fiance, who had given me a pair of binoculars.

Hoffman is essentially a light comic opera, but there were moments of sheer wonderfulness, most notably a trio in the second act which was then joined by the chorus, and I just floated away to another place. Willard White was splendid and the sopranos were all pleasant. I had been slightly sceptical of the Times and Guardian reviews:

Villazón's virile presence and accomplished stagecraft carried him through and mark him out for a significant career, even if his focused and flexible voice is occasionally spoiled by a hard-edged vibrato that creeps in when the going gets tough.

Rolando Villazón started like the lovely, sculpted lyric singer we thought he was before burgeoning into real, deep-textured, velvety dramatic-tenor land — a truly gorgeous performance of huge heart and musicality, full of little grace-notes and romantic ardour in Hoffmann’s duets and repeated, rising, yearning phrases.

Not to mention the Telegraph:

Sensational Mexican tenor Rolando Villazon is the pressing reason to see this otherwise rather second-rate revival of John Schlesinger's production.

Update And the Sunday Times waxes lyrical Mexican rave: a gifted young tenor turned a routine revival into something special

I kind of feel like I did when I saw the Manchester United Youth Team in the first leg of the FA Youth Cup Final in 1992. Only, like, more so.

Gorgeous voice...!

And he released an album yesterday, too. Which is now on my wish list...

Future night out

I do believe in things being circular, and everything having a pattern. You will recall me writing about the first opera I ever saw on telly. I was thinking that I have never actually been to an opera in London - Manchester and Nottingham, yes, but not Covent Garden, one of the great opera houses of the world. The prices have put me off. Then I remembered that I am a reasonably high earner without dependents and decided to treat myself. What's showing at Covent Garden next - but Les Contes d'Hoffmann. I tried booking online but failed miserably - for some reason, online booking often rejects my Switch card, possibly because it's a new fangled one with no issue number , so I had to ring up. The guy said "Is that two tickets?" "One, I'm afraid my partner doesn't like opera sufficiently to be persuaded to come along - but he's learning, slowly..." "Hoffman is very good to see as a first opera," said the booking man. "You know," I said, "it was the very first one I saw on TV, way back in 1981..." "It's the same production," said the man. "Yeah, but the not same singer," I said with a pout. "It's in rehearsal at the moment, it's being played through the loudspeakers, it sounds very good," said the booking man. Well, it does have Rolando Villazon and Willard White in it, so I can't really complain that I'm being fobbed off with nobodies.

(And in case you suspect that I am moneybags in disguise, don't fear - I've now got binoculars on my shopping list, in order to see properly from my relatively affordable seat way up higher than the gods.)

What should I wear?