Il trittico is Puccini's greatest achievement...Pungently descriptive, unflinching in its dissection of suffering, deft in its comedy of avarice and snobbery, it is an A-Z of Puccini. Or, to Puccini-haters, lurid, mawkish and slight.
No composer understood better than Puccini how to use music to grab the attention and manipulate the emotions of the audience, and Pappano brings out its power and subtlety with great effect.
emphasises the disparity between the venial offences of the nuns - being late for choir practice, hiding roses in their habit - and the inhumanity of the outside world, epitomised by Suor Angelica's aunt, the Princess
A thoughtful piece - though I don't wholly agree - from Simon Thomas in WhatsonStage
I attended Il Trittico at the Royal Opera House on Tuesday 14 September and came away with distinctly mixed feelings. I definitely enjoyed myself, and I have generally high praise for the performers in the three operas I saw.
One of the operas I have seen before, the other two were unfamiliar to me. I can't say I have a burning desire to see any of them again; though may do, depending on the casting. It reinforced my feeling that though there are several Puccini operas I like immensely, there are also several I could happily do without. I don't know of any other composer about which I have simultaneously divergent feelings!
We started with Il tabarro; when it was finished I reflected on how dated it seemed. I don't know whether the blame lies with the composer or solely with the librettist, but trying to reflect the mores of their age, they seemed gratingly almost offensively out of step with today. There was a whole story there that was hinted at, and was more interesting than the one that was told. A married couple had suffered the death of their baby; this may be the reason they had grown apart and she was having an affair, or flirting, or something, with another bloke. So hubby killed the other bloke. End of story. But only after a sizable portion of the opera had been taken up with irrelevant trivia from peripheral characters.
The music didn't particularly grab me, except that I did hear some lovely passages in the lower strings echoing the gentle swaying of the waves in the Seine. I don't know the work, but none of the performances struck me as noteworthy either in their excellence or inadequacy.
After the interval came Suor Angelica, which annoyed me intensely despite the fact that even I could tell that the music was searingly beautiful. The opera revolved around a story so poignant and painful it deserved to be told in its own right. Instead it was only hinted at, as a 'backstory' to justify the most mawkish maudlin tosh that could possibly be seen on an operatic stage.
Suor Angelica was high-born, the niece of a Princess, and because she fell pregnant and gave birth to a son who was forcibly removed from her after she had had the chance to kiss him just once, she was forced into a convent in order to save the 'good name' of her 'family'. She spent 7 years pining for her son, hoping just for a word on his welfare, until her Aunt the Princess turns up to get her to sign over her inheritance, and to mention in passing that the child died two years previously.
So we had three eighths of the opera taken up with a light-hearted almost but tediously not funny sketch of how these rather trivial women forced into a convent must do penance for school-girlish tiny pranks. And we had three eighths taken up by Suor Angelica very distressed undergoing a mental breakdown whilst spouting a pile of nonsense she's obviously been brainwashed into thinking is a normal psychological reaction to the most unimaginable grief. Then she committed suicide and immediately realised that this was a sinful thing to do. End of opera.
There is a story to tell about the unspeakable brutality of these aristocratic families who punished women for - probably - being raped and there is a story to tell about the seven years she ached and yearned for the son. But we didn't get this. Instead we got an all-female institution seen through the eyes of men who didn't seem to have much clue about how women behave, all-female institution or not, and a characterisation/narrative that would have put a Victorian shock-novel to shame.
Ermolina Jaho sang beautifully and was superb in an opera-long mad scene. Anna Larsson was outstanding in the small but pivotal role of the Princess - I see she is listed as a contralto, a voice-type I rarely hear but love so much.
But I'm afraid to say I remained unmoved because I felt too aware of how my emotions were being manipulated, which I feel is too cynical and too false. I thought the staging and scenery of this to be the best of the three, the most evocative of a time and place.
So, that left us with the third opera in the Triptych, Gianni Schicchi, the only one of the three I've seen previously, the only comedy, and the one with the two set-piece arias that are worthwhile in their own right. I may be wrong but I don't think that 'comedy' necessarily means 'laugh a minute'. Surely, it has more meaning as the opposite of tragedy. There were a couple of men sitting near me who got very annoying very quickly at their insistence on laughing at every line that contained the mildest of light-heartedness and every line that they knew, knowingly, was a set-up for a later denouement. I assume they had drunk a little more than they could reasonably handle, and I do want to stress I don't think excess laughing in a 'comedy' to be an eject-able offence, just that I thought their attention-seeking 'aren't we clever' ostentatious display of 'we know this opera' to be tiresome and boring.
I have seen Bryn Terfel in the eponymous role and I will just say Lucio Gallo is no Bryn Terfel. The young tenor, in this case Francesco Demuro, has little to sing but one show-stopping aria. He sounded pleasant and tuneful, as one would expect from a pretty and bland Italian tenor. Until the final declamatory 'Gianni Schicchi' when he screeched in the most ugly screaming way. The other, most famous, aria is O mio babbino caro, which was sung by Anna Devin a late replacement - later than the deadline for the cast sheet. I am reluctant to criticise a 'Young Artist' and certainly I couldn't fault her on the technique/delivery of the aria. But unfortunately, I really don't like her voice, which seems to have a pronounced bleat. Maybe she's just waiting to mature into a dramatic sop; maybe that wouldn't be an issue in those roles that need some heft.
But I came away thinking that lesser 'comic' operas only need seeing once; I would have been equally satisfied, musically, by hearing the two set-piece arias performed in concert by singers more pleasing to my ears.
I also thought it would be more enjoyable if the Royal Opera did a triptych of significant Acts from Verdi operas;-)
A footnote, because I didn't want this to dominate the blogpost. I was sitting on the third row of the Stalls Circle, in a seat costing a tad more than I would normally pay. Behind me were the standing places, usually filled by people who are there to hear and see the music, and not out for a 'night out' a 'social occasion'. Unfortunately, the opening few minutes of Il tabarro were ruined for me by the talking of the couple behind me. It was a familiar situation, immature little boy in his 20s takes girlfriend who barely knows him to a spot of culture so he can explain to her what's happening, show off how clever he is, and make sure she knows her place as his inferior. Well, sorry, I'm way too long in the tooth to be impressed by that, and also follow the rule - if no one else around you is talking, ask yourself if it's appropriate for you to do so.
Having endured this for several minutes I turned round and told him to 'Shut up'. Arrogant little cock told me to calm down. I was not prepared to engage in conversation with such a tosser, but if I had done I would explained I had paid three times more for my one ticket than he had for two and I had paid to hear the singers not him. I didn't have the chance, anyway, because he left his standing place to walk over to the usher. He engaged the usher in conversation, and returned to his standing place. For the remainder of the evening he not only did not utter one word, but he barely moved and hardly breathed. Arsehole had, presumably, instructed the usher to get me thrown out but had had to retreat with his tail between his legs when it was explained that I was right and he was wrong. I take no pleasure or triumphant crowing from this victory, because it angers me that people can be such tossers that it needs to be explained to them that when their behaviour is so divergent from anyone else's it doesn't take a great deal of intelligence to realise they're in the wrong.
P.S. Announced for release in Europe at the end of the month is an album "Puccini Ritrovato" which features selections from Puccini operas we generally don't hear in the opera house. Some are edited by Michael Kaye and others by Linda Fairtile (some of the latter apparently from the recently "rediscovered" manuscript of the original four-act Edgar.) Urmana and Domingo are the soloists.
I wasn't really sure what to make of this when I booked it. I looked at the cast:
Debbie Voigt - although she features on what is probably my most favourite CD,Wagner: Love Duets I had read some fairly negative reports about her Tosca.
Marcello Giordani - I've never heard him live but what I've heard broadcast has not impressed me;
Bryn Terfel - well, it would be just my luck for him to cancel, he has a bit of a reputation
Well, a couple of weeks back Debbie was announced as indisposed, to be replaced, for a couple of performances by Nelly Miricioiuandfor most,including Tuesday's which I was due to attend, by Angela Gheorghiu(just to complicate matters, I'm writing this on Thursday night; Thursday's performance has Amanda Echalez).
On Monday we received an emailinforming us that Marcello Giordani was indisposed and was being replaced, confusingly, by Massimo Giordano.
So, Tosca!One of my favourite operas. In so many ways, the epitome of Grand Opera. I often think the music is exactly what you expect operatic music to be like if you don't know much about opera.
It's in three acts, and none of them is over long; the settings are such that it requires an interval between each of them . And yet it's less than three hours in total, including two half-hour intervals.
It has three singers of equal prominence - tenor, baritone, and soprano. There are several other comprimario roles which add colour, but it isn't one of those annoying works like Ballo, Cyrano or Fanciulla where there are lots of indistinguishable unimportant men hanging around.
All three principals die nasty deaths and it ain't actually over until the thin lady sings, then jumps off the battlements.
Last week I saw L'amour de loin and commented that it would benefit from tighter, maybe brutal editing. Tosca is just perfect, never any sense of any of the music being superfluous or inserted for its own sake. No unnecessary repetition, but appropriate use of quotation.
When I first saw this production three years ago, I felt disappointed that they had just replaced the famous old (1964) Zefferelli production with something equally traditional. But now I realise that it was a decision driven by the fact that the Zefferelli sets were falling apart, I feel more relaxed about it. I don't think it's a great production but it serves the work well, and with the right singing actors it can be very entertaining. I have now seen it five times and on each occasions I have had rather mediocre seats. Sigh.
So, how did the principals shape up?
Massimo Giordano entered and definitely looked the part. I actually had a slight double-take because he's a similar build and colouring to Jonas Kaufmann whom I had seen twice in this last year.
I remembered my golden rule about Mr Stand-In - he's going to take time to acclimatise to the house etc. I was not overly impressed by Recondita armonia. It was a bit dull and I detected a beat, a fast vibrato at the bottom of the range. But I decided that, in the circumstances, that he was good enough, I wasn't going to spend the evening wincing.
The next exciting bit was the arrival of Tosca "Mario Mario"; I was so thrilled to see Angela Gheorghiu, a very starry Ms Stand-In Woman, I almost applauded her entrance. LOL!
And then, suddenly, there was a moment in the duet between the two of them, when Massimo just let out Ah! m'avvinci nei tuoi lacci mia sirena and I thought, yeah, he's going to be fine! And from then on, I loved him.
He moved well round stage, seemed at ease in the (presumably unfamiliar) production, and had a pretty good chemistry with Angela. His Vittoria, Vittoria was of a high standard; just because it was not as show-stopping as Jonas's last year doesn't mean anything - we should never let the truly excellent be the enemy of the very good. And his E lucevan le stelle was a thing of beauty, a real sensitive heart-felt interpretation, good variety of dynamics, excellent breath control. All in all a very satisfactory performance, well worthy of the loud acclaim he received at the curtain call (he beat his hand against his heart to indicate he had been nervous!). I commented afterwards to friends that I would love to catch him in something more lyrical, or in that again in 3-5 years. Hopefully we will see more of him in the future at the Garden.I do so love the role of Cavaradossi, not just musically, but his character and his sexiness, so I am very hard to please in this role. But just because I have a clear idea of my ideal Cavaradossi doesn't stop me enjoying someone else who is capable of understanding, interpreting and projecting this lovely character.
It was wonderful to see Angela Gheorghiu. I think the role suits her down to the ground. I hadn't been entirely convinced three years ago, but I thought it was a beautiful, passionate and compelling portrayal. I have been known to nominate Vissi d'arte as a cut I'd like to see, but she was stunning, held my attention in the way it never has been before in that aria, which tends to hold the action up for me. One of those special moments that will stay with me.
And then there was Scarpia. Bryn Terfel. He was nasty. He dripped evil from every pore. Sometimes it was just the little details: descending the stairs in preparation for the Te Deum, he paused to look at a fading mural on the staircase, and ran his hand against the figure of a naked woman, right in her lady bits. Or when he sang La pvera mia cena fu interrotta afterwe had all seen theconsequences of Cavaradossi's torture. Throughout, he was a dramatic tour de force, and vocally just as you expect Scarpia to be.
I can't really fault the orchestral playing. If I wasless familiar with the work I would have been perfectly satisfied with the conducting of Jacques Lacombe; being so intimate with it, I found it to be a bit lacking in frissonatsome crucial moments; especially in Act 1, when the soprano-tenor duet was not orgasmic, and the Te Deum, which I expect to swell in an outpouring that causes electricity (but I did get goose pimples). Nevertheless, overall, I did get a sense of intimacy and, at times, claustrophobia, which, I think, served the piece well.
Because of where I was sitting, I didn't do curtain call photos, but I did do afters:
Bit of a strange angle, but he is like fourteen inches or something taller than me!
And I'd like to say hello to Anna from Lodz, with whom I was chatting on the terrace (I hope I have spelt your name right!). Sadly, she is a Debbie Voigt fan, so was disppointed to miss Debbie. Also hello to Jane, Anna's London friend.
So, taken overall, a thoroughly enjoyable evening, starting with a pleasant dinner with friends, which had been preceded by chatting with more friends. A good atmosphere in the House, very little inappropriate clapping (in contrast, say, to last year, when ignorami had started clapping Trionfal, di nova speme l'anima freme in celestial crescente ardor;) or three years ago when Marcelo Alvarez's glorious E lucevan was prematurely interrupted by some dolt shouting 'Bravo'. There was premature clapping at the end of Act II so the final chord, which completes the cadence, was inaudible. It may not matter to some people, but for me, an unfinished cadence is as frustrating as a shag without a climax.
And we had great fun laughing at some fairly outrageous outfits. I won't mention specifics, because it would be just my luck to be slagging off the favourite frock of a regular lurking reader! All I can say is, just because it's fashionable, looked good on the hanger and cost a fortune, doesn't remove the necessity of looking critically in the mirror and asking a) is it really me and b) do I risk looking ridiculous.
Sort of deserves a post in itself, just for that headline. The Sun finds it boring...but of course, it's Bloody Boring Boheme. But I suppose I shall find myself in a cinema watching it because I love Rolando more than I dislike Boheme.
I would like to say thank you to both Karen and Martin who emailed me to tell me how to set the camera for taking photos in opera houses. Sadly, neither of them, nor anyone else, had the psychic powers to say "and whatever you do, don't rely on the battery that is basically dud and should have been binned two years ago, especially if your replacement is at the bottom of your overly packed handbag..." So, I failed once again to get decent Curtain Call pictures. I shall just have to make sure I see Jonas in performance sometime soon...
I decided during the second act that if there is one aria that ought to be cut in the operatic repertoire, it is Vissi D'Arte. Sure, I know intellectually why it is important, it tells us all we need to know about how Floria Tosca regards herself. It is a brilliant pause in an otherwise fast-moving opera. The fact that it is meditative in a tightly-packed work ought to be a good thing. But I find it boring, I find it longer than the whole of the rest of the opera put together. And I don't like the tune.
For me, Tosca is primarily a tenor vehicle, with both Recondita Armonia and E Lucevan le stelle being well known even to people who have never been to an opera, and Vittoria vittoria being amazing writing suitable for amazing singers. But, actually, the musical highlight is the Te Deum that closes Act I.
Tosca is a superb opera for anyone who is generally unfamiliar with the genre. The tightly packed action full of tunes doesn't take much insight to enjoy. And yet every time I hear it, I do hear something new. I had a sense that the house was packed out with noobs. You get this sense from the way people are dressed. And the fact that in Act III during the Love Duet, there is a brief rest in the music and Tosca and Cavaradossi turn to the audience to sing Trionfal, di nova speme l'anima freme in celestial crescente ardor, many of the audience burst into applause, drowning out that phrase, which is very important.
Until I got to the Stage Door I didn't see a single familiar face in the audience. I'm not just saying the people with whom I chat, but also the faces that just look familiar as a result of frequent fleeting encounters. Well, unless you count Michael Howard*. At least, I think it was Michael Howard. When I arrived, Michael Howard, or his doppleganger, was standing outside waiitng for someone. He saw me looking at him, and suddenly buried his head in looking down to txt on his moby. Later, just before the curtain, I saw the same bloke still looking very like Michael Howard, with a woman who looked a lot like Sandra Howard (who is very elegant) taking seats in the orchestra as I looked down from on high. But I can't be sure.
This run of Tosca was supposed to be a routine revival, originally with tba as Cavaradossi. When the tba turned out to be Jonas Kaufmann, 'routine revival' was thrown out of the window. Sadly, the rest of the cast was simply not in the same league. I enjoyed both Micaela Carosi and Paolo Gavanelli as Tosca and Scarpia, to call someone second-rate is not particularly an insult, and I am sure the noobs would justifiably think they were excellent. But, still.
I did find Gavanelli quite frightening as Scarpia and much to my self-disgust I did rather feel a frisson when he sang that basically he gets more pleasure in the well fought conquest than in the exchange of tender caresses. The frisson wasn't musical.
I noticed a marked difference in the orchestra under Paul Wynne Griffiths last night as compared to Tony Pappano last week. Again, I'm not knocking Paul (who was very friendly at the Stage Door) but it did lack some fire and some momentum. Although again I have to give special kudos to whoever was on bass drum, arguably the most important instrument in the entire opera.
When I saw it last week, I had a sense of wonder, something so familiar from so many recordings and yet sounding fresh, which I didn't experience last night. I thought Jonas was absolutely marvellous and yet, I don't think he was quite up to last week's performance. Whether that is actually true or whether it is a product of my physical and mental tiredness, I really can't tell.
And I can't decide what to think of the production. It is very traditional, and on the whole I don't like Traditional, but I can't really think of any other way of doing Tosca, other than say, having Cavaradossi as an ex-druggie painting a community centre, Scarpia a Drug Dealer and Tosca as some blingy rap artist. I don't especially like the layout, trying to work out why the church appears to have two levels... I suppose Cavaradossi could have been painting in a crypt but I don't think the Attavanti chapel would have been located in a crypt. I dunno, it's years since I've been to Rome and I can't remember whether Sant'Andrea della Valle was one of the two million churches my mother took me into. I can see the point, during the Te Deum, of Scarpia being down below in the dark crypt while the choirboys sing out in bright colour up above. But I suppose it sums up my major problem - it is dark all the way through. Again, I know why, it does make it realistic, but the only contrast is this barely glimpsed scene. I just got tired of it being dark, dark and nothing but dark.
Overall, a very pleasant evening, which ended with me being part of a crowd gathered for Jonas at the Stage Door. As usual he lingered to stay and talk, sign autographs, pose for photos and so on. I asked him for a kiss and I was rewarded!
Despite not being much of a Puccini fan I am such a fan of Tosca, as it is more commonly known.
And tonight...last night...was wonderful! All of the supporting cast were up to their jobs, the Tosca and the Scarpia were more than satisfactory.
And Jonas Kaufmann just knocked my socks off as Cavaradossi.
As I went in, I was already drafting my blog post, 'Jonas Kaufmann was fabulous...' then I thought, maybe he won't be.
He came on stage and sang Recondita Armonia and I was 'this is beyond fabulous! And that was just for starters.
As I say I just love the opera. The music is so cinematic and the band were on fire tonight, too: I understand what I read in a review that Tony Pappano brings out the nuances and details, perhaps at the expense of the big picture. I loved those nuances, and I didn't notice a lack of big picture.
The Vittoria vittoria knocked me back in my seat as I writhed with the exquisite pleasure of such beauty...there was an outbreak of applause, for a two word aria (the famous second act tenor aria!). Someone did say to him afterwards he should tone it down, it was OTT, but she was soon silenced, and he was told to ignore her!
And I was very lucky to be in one of the best seats in the house, one of those restricted leg room ones on the front row of the amphi, where the acoustics are just perfect. I'm in pretty much the same seat next week and I can't wait! Just the minor matter of Walküre in Barcelona first. I'm on a tenor roll from now till mid-July. Life is beautiful.
It's not a great production, but perfectly functional.
It was one of the those nights when everything just seemed to gel.
And a big hello to people I bumped into including Caro, Janet, and Marion from the Unofficial Jonas Kaufmann site, a treasured resource.
This probably has to be read in conjunction with my review of the same opera from La Scala. Although I am not very into Puccini I have two DVDs of this opera.
Overall, and in general, I much prefer the Covent Garden one to the La Scala one.
First of all, the sets are amongst the very best opera sets I have seen live or on DVD. Almost worthy of applause in themselves. Act I, the bar, Act II, Minnie's Log Cabin and Act III, the gallows in the mining village. It is enjoyable to note hundreds of little details and the overall picture is splendid.
I find so much of the music very reminiscent of that which accompanies classic Western films, and then I remind myself that Puccini did it first.
I find the first half of Act I does drag a lot. I see its importance in setting the scene; for a first viewing it's quite interesting, but it sags on repeated viewing. It's very clear how the main characters are introduced one-by-one and the atmosphere is set - the miners pining for home, the Wells Fargo man, and the camp minstrel (although I find the way he is blacked up Al Jolson style) very dodgy. The highlight of this opening 'boring bit' is the evocative miners' lament. (When I was making rough notes I wrote 'almost liturgical in its lachrimosity' - Pseuds' Corner, anyone?). And as the Minstrel the camera lingers on the "Wanted" poster for Ramirez, a bandit, a Spaniard from Mexico.
The opera only really starts after 36 minutes with the grand entrance of 'Dick Johnson'. And it grips me for the remainder of the Act. The Love duet in particular, especially the bit, erm, I wrote it down in English from the subtitles "Waht you cannot say, your heart told me when we danced". I do have a bit of a problem with Carol Neblett in this role. For one, she looks a lot like Nurse G-g-g-gladys Emmanuel, but more to the point, she adopts that tactic of sopranos when the top notes are beyond them - screamingly squawk it.
I am not sure whether Fanciulla is a great opera or merely a good one with some great scenes. Whenever Iwatch it I find myself repeat-playing certain sections. On this DVD, we get Plácido at his very best. It's not a role that is particularly considered a signature role for him, but it's pretty clear that he enjoys it, and vocally it suits him very well. He obviously relishes the opportunity to strut around oozing machismo - it's easy to see how Minnie fell so completely for him.
Act II starts badly with what I noted in my notebook as a 'rather tedious and ethnically embarrassing scene with Wowkle and Billy looking like cartoon-character "Red Indians"'. But when that's over with, I enjoy the way that Minnie is getting ready for her big date - and then he - Dick Johnson - arrives, looking very sexy, in an ankle length leather coat and a rather fetching hat, although, obviously, being a gentleman bandit, he doesn't wear that indoors.
They engage in sweet-talk at the table, but the music tells us that passion is rising; his macho strutting is mixed with an awkward nervousness. And 'Un baccio, un baccio solo' is pure steaming lust. He actually smokes the cigar she hands him (and we know from Carmen that this is a man who knows how to handle a cigar...).
Next is Comedy Moment, when the door blows open and snow blows in so Dick Johnson bundles Wowkle and the baby into the snow with indecent haste. Then we have a B-movie style passionate clench as the door blows open-and-shut in the blizzard. But the snow - and the sound of gunshots - is an excuse for Minnie, declaring everlasting love, to make Dick stay, whilst the orchestra portrays carnality. Frankly, if he was over me like that I would also declare everlasting love and I would not curl up in a bearskin and offer him my bed.
Opera is foremostly about singing, and I love the way Plácido sings in this, contrasting the passages where there is steel in the voice with tender moments. The orchestra is important, too. In this work it never realy plays 'tunes' but its mood music acts as an accompanist, a very different tone than, say, Bohème or Tosca.
To be honest, although I really enjoy this opera, there are crazy nonsensical aspects to it. He is shot and bleeding. I accept that at the time it was set it wasn't possible to summon the air ambulance, but I would have thought that a bit of basic First Aid would have come in handy, instead she just bundles him into the loft. When he is discovered by the big Bad Sheriff Jack Rance, still no first aid is administered, instead he sits slumped over the kitchen table as Minnie and Rance play poker for his body. And magically, he is fully cured in Act III*
Act III is short and perfectly formed - with yet another fabulous set. It begins with a lamenting reminiscent with the miners' lament in Act I - this time it's Rance, and Nick the barman, yearning for life with Minnie, who's off doing her own thing with 'Dick Johnson' aka Ramirez the Bandit. I really love the scene when he arrives having being cornered by the Wells Fargo men, looking deliciously scruffy and with his shirt unfastened enough to reveal just a tantalising glimpse of chest hair. He delivers that wonderful aria "Ch'ella mi creda libero e lontano"and Minnie arrives to save him.
A thoroughly enjoyable and satisfying opera - albeit with a zero body count - but probably not a great opera!
*It's a bit like the otherwise superbly wonderful 'Rome' on TV, where Lucius Vorenus is mortally wounded and bleeding in Egypt but somehow manages to make it back to Rome. I don't believe either scenario would be possible now, with a much greater understanding of physiology and hygiene, let alone medical care and fast transport, let alone the Old Days
PS In the course of writing this, I googled for 'Ch'ella mi creda..." and to my horror the first hit was for Andrea Bocelli. I couldn't quite believe that Bocelli has recorded it, but I caught a short snippet, and it was even more horrendous than I imagined; then my computer seemed to have been taken over by the disembodied voice of Andrea Bocelli with no obvious means of killing it. Needless to say, I am traumatised as a result of infiltration by this dangerous cult.
One of the Puccini operas that I like. In fact, I like it so much I have two different versions on DVD. This blogpost was originally intended to be about both, but because it got so long I decided just to publish the La Scala version for now!
For me, it takes a helluva long time to get started. Which is a shame. The first half hour or so is quite important for setting the scene, for letting us understand the context in which happens the drama about to unfold. I have read that the orchestral work in that first sequence is interesting and evocative, but it fails to engage me. I accept that every opera, even the greatest of operas, has passages that seem of lesser quality than the rest of the work. But this section is too long, and in too great a contrast with the remainder of the opera, and means that Fanciulla is a pretty good opera, rather than the 'approaching greatness' that the remainder suggests.
The synopsis is quite straightforward and can be found, for example at Wikipedia.
Puccini was very irritating giving his operas the wrong title. This title implies that the main role is the soprano, but it is so obviously a tenor's opera. Admittedly, one has to wait 38 minutes for the tenor's arrival, and that does drag a bit, but when he arrives with a flourish, it's worth it.
It will come as no surprise that both DVDs I have feature Plácido Domingo as Dick Johnson. It is one of my absolute favourite roles of his. He plays the role of the Spaniard from Mexico who's travelled to California with such perfection, as if he inhabits the role. As soon as he walks in the bar it's obvious that Minnie has to fall in love with him. Just standing there, oozing Latino testosterone turns me on. and that's even before he opens his mouth! Vocally, the role is superb for him. I'm surprised it doesn't get mentioned more as one of his signature roles.
From the moment he walks into the bar, he is sultry seductive and sexy, absolutely compelling. I love his costume in the La Scala DVD, almost all in black (except for an off white polo neck, shame, no opportunity for chest hair fondling), knee high boots that serve to emphasise his long legs and delicious thighs. I love the way he struts round the bar, I love the way he looks at Minnie, and I love it when Minnie declares she would protect the miners' gold with her life, he falls for her hook, line and sinker. He looks absolutely irresistibly gorgeous, in one of his chubbier/cuddlier phases...
Act 2 is perhaps my favourite act in the whole of Puccini. I can do without the appalling dialogue of the native Americans, Wowkle and Billy. I am reading the pidgin English subtitles which are translations of the pidgin Italian. It's not unreasonable to assume that uneducated servant native Americans in California in the 1850s were not fluent in English or Spanish or whatever it was the incoming masters spoke. But it's probably reasonable to assume that when talking amongst themselves they spoke fluently in their native tongue. But once that scene's over, and Minnie starts anticipating Dick's arrival, it sizzles from start to finish. The librettist captured her pre-date anxiety superbly, worrying over whether her fanciest shoes were too tight, will he like them, putting on her red roses, wanting to wear her Sunday best, spraying perfume. The initial awkward exchange of small talk is so recognisable. And the way he uses his charm on her (admittedly, this isn't really acting, this is him!)
There's a lot of recitative in this opera. Or sort of recitative, the 20th century version, where lines are sung in the natural rhythm of conversation, rather than in the unnatural form of the aria. His voice sounds so rich, , sweet and lyrical, which is a lovely contrast from when he expresses more passion eg when he sings that there are women in the world one would wish to have in one's life just for one hour and then die.
My major criticism of the La Scala DVD is the strange absence of chemistry. I don't like it when the leading lady seems to be avoiding looking at the leading man. There he is working his charm on her, and it's like she's impervious to it, avoiding looking at him most of the time. I was watching with Jimmy and he commented on this quite independently of me thinking it. He begs her for a kiss and she turns away uninterested. If it had been me, I would have been right in there; if it had been me playing Minnie I would have refused with my words and agreed with my eyes. And, indeed, she hastily bundles poor Wowkle out of the house and into the snow, and grants the kiss with an almost orgasmic musical flurry "That would be you," said Jimmy. "No," I said, "I would have succumbed to much more much earlier." And then we have the least convincing stage kiss I have seen him give (what's wrong with this woman?).
He makes to leave and realises it is snowing. She begs him to stay; he refuses, but there's a knock on the door and he agrees to stay. Cue the most erotic music in Italian opera, when, fully clothed, they consummate their love. I said to Jimmy that there's sex in the music, he said he didn't notice, I said that was because you were too busy talking about how people don't listen to the actual music. He's doing well, shagging her when she's as frigid as anything. They sink to their knees as the music subsides (oh, to be overwhelmed like that!). His look of admiration is pure post-coital.
The Sheriff and posse arrive, and Johnson is alert, gun at the ready. Minnie tells him where to hide as the boys storm in, and reveal to Minnie that "Dick Johnson" is in fact America's Most Wanted Bandito, Ramerrez, as revealed by his lover Nina Micheltorena,a woman of low repute from nearby (whom he had denied knowing). And they know he's at Minnie's. When the posse has gone, she demands he comes out of hiding and confronts him with the truth, and angrily tells him to leave. He explains that he has no alternative but to be a thief; his father was, and on his father's death he had to take it up to support his mother and siblings.
There's a certain quality in Plácido's voice that I simply adore yet cannot describe in words. It's particularly noticeable in the lower part of his range, when he relaxes and these beautiful gorgeous sounds roll out caressingly. and complement perfectly the power of the high notes. Perfectly illustrated in Or son sei mesi.
He leaves, she laments it's over - (and I remember that there are some people who you would wish to have in your life for just one hour and die*) and he gets shot, so she drags him back inside and insists he stays and hides. He is staggering, she bundles him up the ladder and foregoes the opportunity to grope his thighs, never going above his knees. Sigh I wouldn't be so restrained.
A knock at the door, Evil Sheriff Jack Rance has returned, now completely convinced that Ramerrez is hiding there. He makes an advance on Minnie who spurns him and he's about to go when he discovers Ramerrez's blood dripping from the loft. (38:16, great shot). Somehow, Dick is half dragged and half falls out of the loft, falling to the floor and rolling into the position he maintains for the rest of the act. The remainder of the act is a poker game where the prize is Dick Johnson aka Ramerrez. Minnie cheats (at which point the timpani are fabulous!), and wins, which is good. But if it had been me, if I had a shot man bleeding in my loft and I was not able to summon Emergency Services on account of it being the 1850s, I think I would have tried at least to administer basic first aid.
The final act is again an act of two parts. The first part is only really setting the scene for when a now recovered, cornered and arrested Ramerrez makes his entrance bound at the wrists, to the delight of the miners who want to hang him as a thief and murderer. Also to the delight of any red blooded woman watching, because he looks unbelievably drop-dead gorgeous. Now without the polo neck and revealing just a teasing hint of chest hair, made up to look as if he has designer stubble, his dark eyes flashing with proud anger, trying to dodge the blows and pushes of the miners (still with bound hands), falling to his knees and rising again, not once, but twice, with bound hands. Defiantly he says he cares nothing for death, if his hands were unbound he'd slit his own throat. He begs they never tell Minnie how he came to die and then breaks into the most fabulous aria Puccini wrote Ch'ella mi creda libero e lontano - still with bound hands (it must be incredibly difficult to sing with bound hands...). The audience like it, a lot! Rance knocks him violently to the floor, and he falls spectacularly and gets himself up - still with bound hands. With great dignity he walks to the scaffold and has the noose put around his neck just as Minnie arrives. Now, it would totally freak me out to have a noose around my neck, even if on stage. Jimmy says it wouldn't bother him on stage, and it's just because I can't bear anything round my neck. But it would be too much to take psychologically.
To cut a long story short, Minnie pleads - successfully - for his release and it ends happily if anti-climatically with a body count of absolute zero and a homespun wisdom lecture on being nice. And they ride away into the sunset. As Minnie delivers the lecture, Ramerrez is looking at her with undisguised lust, she seems barely aware of his existence.
I just so love the best bits of this opera that I can happily overlook the less gripping bits. And although I have been critical of Mara Zampieri lack of passion for Dick, all other aspects of her performance are somewhere between good and excellent. She acts a convincing Minnie and is vocally and musically of a high standard, with just a few squawks in a punishing role. Juan Pons is eminently adequate as Jack Rance. None of the other characters in a cast of thousands are significant enough to be described. The production is excellent, a traditional production but with attractive sets and a naturalistic and convincing personenregie.
The DVD inlay card has the complete libretto, which is an unexpected bonus.
There is another DVD I ought to get, which I remembered when Googling, and was perturbed to find that the cast included Daniels. One of the great advantages of a composer like Puccini is the complete absence of counter-tenors. I was relieved to find that it is actually a soprano called Barbara Daniels.
In due course I shall watch, blog, and maybe MyTubeadd to a video sharing site with balls the Covent Garden version.
* I take it to mean that if you could only have one hour, you would gladly take it even if it meant death, rather than - an hour's enough, now get lost.
Rarely performed Puccini. Ludicrous story. Not that ludicrous matters if the music is good enough. So, the quest of this blogpost is to help me decide what I think of this opera. I have found that the best way to get to know and like an opera is to actually see it, whether live or on video. I think that makes me weird, but rational - after all, most of the well-known operas were written for the stage. This was written after the invention of sound recording, and at the time that motion pictures emerged but I would be surprised if even Puccini was quite so tech-savvy in the 1880s as to write with electronic reproduction in mind, and would probably have been very surprised to know that some woman on teh internets has gone seeking an audio/visual reproduction of his second, commercially failed, opera whilst sitting in her dressing gown...! There is a DVD available. Perhaps Puccini would not be surprised at the statement "Please be aware it may be several months before despatch." And a search of Operabase reveals no live performances from 2005 -2009. Unless someone somewhere is secretly planning a production for the 150th anniversary of Puccini's 1858 birth, I suspect we will have to wait until 2024 for a death-centenary special.
So I'm stuck with this CD, bought in the summer, and listened to straight through a couple of times, before being loaded onto my mp3 player and cropping up from time-to-time on random.
So what do I think of it? I have to say it hasn't exactly leaped out and grabbed me by the throat as being overwhelming. There are five or six numbers in Tosca alone that are more memorable than this. That having been said, it is very pleasant to listen to and worth taking the time to concentrate and listen actively. And were it to come to an opera house near me, I wouldn't hesitate to book up to see it. I don't think I would travel, though, however rare the performance. In my view there are plenty of less-deserving rarities being performed in various locations. It has some orchestral passages that excellent, tuneful and stirring.
So, this disc. Firstly, it's a pity that Plácido left it to 2005 to record this. He sounds gorgeous much of the time, and this should certainly be in the collection of any semi-serious Plácido fan. I think there is evident strain in some of the higher notes, which wouldn't have been there thirty or twenty years ago. Conversely, I do like the mature steel of a Wagnerian (or a baritenor) lower in the range.
Not having any other versions, nor having a score from which to read I can't make any insightful comments, except for relating the evidence of my ears. There is nothing that strikes me as unpleasant in it, which is not intended to sound as faint praise. When listening to a recording of a repertory standard, especially by singers with much experience in the role, you are persuaded, correctly or not, that they are bringing considerable interpretation. I would imagine that for this they just learnt the roles sufficiently to sing from the scores.
I suppose I could go through and do a number-by-number 'live blog' but that would be tedious. Tedious to those who know the work, because they can form their own views, and to those who don't, because it means nothing. And in either case, I would end up saying 'and then the strings introduce a passage of mezzo-piano choral singing' or else 'I like the way the brass play high, the cymbals clash, and the sopranos soar in a stirringly triumphant passage, before the volume and tempo reduces to a reflective, lyrical, quasi-religious outpouring ("Del signor la pupilla" as it happens). Oh I do like the way the soprano interjects into that'.
So I shall just say, click the Amazon link above, listen to the extracts and then buy*
In conclusion, I would say that the more I listen to this, the more I like it, and I think it deserves more performances than it currently gets.
Unless I acquire in the next few days a copy of Leoncavallo's Edipo Re, Cavalli's Egisto, Dessau's Einstein, Glass's Einstein on the Beach, John's The Eight Wonder, or Henze's Elegy for Young Lovers, none of which (except the Glass) I have ever heard of, we will soon be looking at Elektra (Strauss).
** If you buy after following my link, I shall get 60p (or about 1 USD) with which to subsidise the hosting costs for mmofm (insert cheeky smiley here...)
If my search requests are any guide, I should have written this earlier.
I only really booked this for the sake of Marcelo Alvarez. If the cast had been of routiniers, I would have skipped it. There's nothing to dislike about Bohème, but there is precious little to rave about. It is often recommended as an ideal 'first' opera, but I don't think I would agree.
I have seen it live at ROH before and have also reviewed a DVD. I can't add much to those thoughts. Nothing happens for twenty minutes, then the first act ends with a gorgeous aria and duet. The second act is a great spectacular but apart from Musetta's Waltz, not a lot going on musically. I am warming to the third act, especially the ensemble that closes it, but nothing in that ensemble is fit to be mentioned in the same breath as the ensemble pieces in eg Mozart's Marriage of Figaro or Verdi's Un ballo in maschera. I retain my view that the fourth act is dire and I just wish Mimi would die earlier. I will confess that the final very few minutes, silence followed by a splendid blast from the brass, struck me as it never has previously. And I dare say I shall continue going to performances in order to catch star tenors and star sopranos.
I attended with Faye and Helen and caught up with Lucia in the intervals, so that was nice, although as I commented later in the week, when attending with people who are knowledgeable and opinionated it is sometimes difficult to filter out one's unique experience and opinion from that which has emerged as consensus in the conversation.
Overall it was a pleasant rather than great performance. I resolved that I would pay special attention to the orchestration, on the basis that save for Che gelida manina and O soave fanciulla there is nothing memorable in the singing bit. But I found nothing memorable in the orchestra, either. Perfectly nice, bland, unchallenging, and enjoyable - up to a point.
Highlight of the evening was Marcelo Alvarez, of course. As soon as he launched into Che gelida, I swooned at his gorgeous voice. Bright ringing tone. Not a perfect rendition, but full-blooded and with balls. Sitting in seat A 40-something in the Amphi was acoustically superb, one of the best seats I've had in that house, a real white spot. Marcelo is not the greatest actor in the opera world, but there has been some debate on newsgroups this week about Stage Presence, which is something he has in spades. An involved and committed performance, reaching out beyond the spotlights. So the fact this acting tends to wooden is easily forgiven, because of the whole-hearted way in which he throws himself into the role. I especially liked the bits he played for laughs, not least the ballet scene in the Final Act. He's a chubby man, not especially elegant, but he carried off his ballet moves with grace, stopping short of being ridiculous.
Katie van Kooten - aka Angela's Understudy - was an insipid Mimi whose performance left me unmoved. A small voice, she failed to convey anything much, and left an impression of a thumbprint in shifting sand. I'm sure we'll see and hear much more of her, but I can't say I'm motivated to rush out and by tickets. Not a great top by any means, almost unintelligible Italian, and I feel she went through the motions rather than acted the role.
Despite the wonderfulness of Marcelo Alvarez, the star of the evening was Anna Leese. A name much talked about in positive reports from minor venues, she was the official cover for the secondary role of Musetta, and was called in to replace the injured Nuccia Focile. What a fantastic voice, stage presence in abundance, and acting skills. She grabbed the audience and demanded we paid attention, her character was the only one that was really three-dimensional. Her big moment comes in Act 2, 'Musetta's waltz' and she made it a Big Moment. Part of the action involved a game of snooker. As it happened , she potted the cue ball, to the amusement of the audience who watched it role to the far pocket with baited breath and let out a murmur of amusement. That was the only flaw in her performance, and she received the biggest cheer of the evening. Admittedly, some of that was the customary acknowledgement of the 'cover' but most of it was surely due to appreciation of her performance. Marcelo also received a big cheer, of course.
The rest of the cast were serviceable but far from outstanding. I should mention that veteran Robert Tear made a cameo appearance as Alcindoro, which delighted old-timers.
So overall a pleasant and enjoyable evening with a competent performance of an opera that I regard as second rate, at best...well, apart Che Gelida/O soave fanciulla, third rate. I suppose that it might grow on me in time, but it's not as if I haven't been exposed to it enough. Perhaps a new production? This current one has been going since 1974 and replaced an 1896 production. So perhaps I might live long enough to see the new one in my seventies..
Er, Bohème dreary; Marcelo Alvarez and Anna Leese* great.
More, anon...
* last minute replacement for Nuccia Focile, injured in rehearsal...In years to come we'll reminisce about the day Anna Leese almost stole the show as a late replacement for Musetta. Finally, I know what other people have been saying for ages. She is really very good.
I attended two performances of the new Royal Opera House production of Puccini's masterpiece - my favourite Puccini opera. The first new production in forty years. I held off from reviewing it after the first performance I saw, because I was in an acoustically poor seat, and, perhaps more importantly, the star, Marcelo Alvarez called in sick with salmonella - I don't know if it was a dodgy Cadbury's chocolate bar.
The opera is called Tosca, and that makes a lot of people erroneously think the soprano is the star. That is not so, because she only gets one aria - admittedly Vissi d'arte, vissi d'amore (I live for art, I live for love), but the tenor gets two show-stopping arias - Recondita armonia and E Lucevan le stelle. And by coincidence, I found two tremendous versions of them of YouTube today. Angela Gheorghiu sang Tosca. Scarpia was sung by Bryn Terfel. The fill-in-at-short-notice Cavaradossi was Fabio Armiliato, who has an interesting history with the role...* The bloke waving the stick was Antonio Pappano.
Considering that it had been hyped as the hot-ticket for the summer, and it is an opera that I love, I have to say that I was a bit disappointed. It was star-studded: I would see it with any one of those stars; to have all three is quite something. It might be that even on my second night I still didn't have a great seat, but, I have to say, I have sat in worse before and have been more impressed.
The sets looked fantastic, but the more I think about them, the more I think 'so what'. All the productions I have seen of Tosca, either live or on video, have all looked pretty much the same, except for the one filmed in the real locations at the actual time of day. So I decided that were I to be a director of Tosca, it would be set in an urban wasteland, have Cavaradossi as a recovering drug addict painting a community centre, Tosca as a transgendered lesbian Reality TV show winner, and Scarpia as the local pimp/crack dealer. It would work. Tosca could leap
off the multi-storey car park.
I felt that because the Act 1 set was double-decker, some of the dramatic impact was lost. I realised on second viewing that the first time I had missed most of Scarpia's entrance: because it started so high up it wasn't visible from the gods. Much of the lighting was too dark. Yes, it created the right atmosphere but it just made it more difficult to see the acting. None of the acting performances will be entered into my little book of 'ones to remember' .
So it was just as well the singing and music was of such a high standard. Overall, anyway. A lot of the time I could not hear Bryn Terfel, at either performance, drowned out too often by the orchestra. I did not rate the last-minute-stand-in-guy very highly, although ironically, I rated his acting more than his singing. It was difficult to believe that he played the role with little, or no, rehearsal, but his renditions of the two great arias were good rather than great - and this became obvious when contrasted with Marcelo Alvarez's performance. His Recondita Armonia was beautiful, but he saved his best for E lucevan le stelle, which was heart-stoppingly gorgeous. Just a shame that some thoughtless tosser jad to break in with a premature 'bravo' to ruin the moment, just because it was on the radio. Interestingly, I would say Fabio's Vittoria vittoria rang out sweeter and more victorious than Marcelo's. Marcelo's acting was reasonably convincing for him, although it could never be described as instinctive. He did not really roll around on the ground, although I was terribly impressed when Scarpia's heavies carrie dhim and just threw him to the ground with a thud. He did not flinch. What a tenor!
Angela was intriguing as Tosca. People moan that her voice isn't big,and it isn't, but it's big enough, and I found that she was penetratingly audible in my rubbish seat in Row T. She has such a gorgeous voice, so difficult to describe,. On both occasions her Vissi d'arte was breathtakingly beautiful. I thought she was the most succesful at portraying a nuanced character. She had made some remarks beforehand about how she did not rate Callas's Tosca. That really set the cats a-flapping, vindictive and vitriolic character assassinations from Callas widows who certainly had no intention of seeing angela in this production, probably haven't seen her live, and probbaly never saw Callas live, at least not in an opera. I think this characteristed much of the Dead Tree Media, who in order to knock her down, overpraised Bryn so much that my expectations were raised and I was left thinking 'so what?' It also rebounded, because it made Angela's vocal performance more welcome.
It was one of those performances which was perfectly enjoyable and a lovely way to forget the England penalties debacle. There wasn't any aspect that I could constructively criticise with much force, but yet, it was a situation where the reality simply did notlive up to the hype. And, also, I had made the mistake of playing a video, a DVd and a CD beforegoing, because, apparently, that's what you're supposed to before you go to a live opera - do your homework. I'm not making that mistake again. Jimmy reckoned that Marcelo Alvarez was outstanding, but 'not as good as Pláci'. And he was outstanding; he has a gorgeous, expressive, sweet, flawless voice.
No Stage Door shenanigans. We had had a long day already on Saturday, and wanted to get home, so we made a hasty exit to the bus stop. Even after half-eating a disappointing Chinese Takeaway, I was in bed at midnight with a headache brought on by not drinking enough water on a baking hot day. And no photos: on neither occasion was I positioned sufficiently well to make it worth my while getting my camera out.
*
From the front-page headlines in Italian newspapers: "Cavaradossi has been shot!"... At the Macerata summer festival on 30 July 1995, the tenor (Fabio Armiliato) was shot in the 3rd act - as usual. But this time when Tosca (Raina Kabaivanska) rushed to him she heard a whisper: "Call an ambulance!...", and then she fainted at the sight of his blood. Because of a blank charged with too much powder, the tow had pierced Cavaradossi's boot and hurt his leg. It is possible that the gun was overcharged because of another accident at the same festival, some years before, when the headlines read: "Cavaradossi dies from heart attack" (the guns did not go off!). Armiliato, after an hour of surgery, said he "had been lucky that the soldier did not aim at the right height". But he should have been grateful to the stage director for not sticking to the realism Puccini wanted: he staged the shooting on a staircase, with the soldier's head at the level of Cavaradossi's feet. (5 days later, going on stage at the beginning of act 2, Armiliato's crutch slipped, causing a double fracture of the other leg...)
It seems a lifetime ago since I went to see this at Opera Holland Park. The same night as England vs Trinidad and Tobago.
It is among my favourite Puccini operas, seeming to tick all the right boxes, with a lovely score, and some wonderful set-piece arias for soprano and tenor.
There are people who insist that before you attend an opera performance you should 'do your homework' ie by listening to a CD or reading the score (they often fall quiet at the thought of a DVD...hey, opera's a visual art form!). I can see their point, up to a point, inasmuch as that the more familiar one is a work, the more depth of understanding one can get.
But I don't like doing 'homework'. I believe that most operas were written with the intention of entertaining an audience, so, if I can't enjoy it by seeing it live, there's probably something wrong either with the opera, that performance, or with me on that evening.
But I did my homework. I watched a DVD of Manon Lescaut. And that was a mistake, because one then goes into a live performance with high expectations that it will be up to the very high standards set on the DVD.
So instead of thinking, "I'm really enjoying this" I end up thinking "It suffers by comparison".
I suppose it did not help that I would find it very difficult to rate the tenor highly. Despite Puccini naming almost all his operas for the Leading Lady it is my considered opinion that most of them are in fact tenor vehicles. And in this, the tenor gets to sing Donna non vidi mai, which is an audience-pleasing showstopper.
I thought the orchestra sounded splendid, even though, being in Row A I was little submerged by orchestra. The soprano Amanda Echalaz, despite an lacklustre start, warmed up to the extent that the Final Act completely belonged to her, an intense portrayal and vocally excellent.
The bass, Lynton Black, portrayed the buffo role of Geronte de Ravoir convincingly, and earned suitable 'in character' boos at the end. Simon Thorpe played Lescaut satisfactorily without ever making me sit up and take notice.
I found the tenor playing Renato des Grieux, Sean Ruane, frustrating. Competent and adequately musical, but he lacked anything memorable in his voice. And his acting was wooden in the extreme. I think the direction was partly to blame. It seemed that when he wasn't singing he was capable of acting, but when he was singing, the only acting he could muster was "Stand and Deliver".
In general, all the arias, duets etc from all the cast were delivered from a static position, mainly facing the audience, not making for a very interesting or engaging experience. I was sorely disappointed by the duet in Act II, which, according to the music is highly charged erotica - basically, they're shagging. That doesn't have to be portrayed graphically on stage (although we always live in hope...). But when they lay together on the floor, they looked like too rather inept children in a simulated non-violent wrestling match.
In general, the production was dismal if functional. Lots and lots of white furniture. The newspapers have awarded it between two and three stars, which to me seems fair.
I would heartily recommend Opera Holland Park. Although neither productions nor cast are of the standard we expect at the Royal Opera House or indeed English National Opera, it is a great opportunity. I have seen Manon Lescaut and Fedora, neither of which I have seen live before and am unlikely to in the near future at the main London venues. I am due to see Queen of Spades - which I will see again at ROH in the autumn - and Rigoletto, which I have seen recently at both ROH and ENO, and years ago.
The tickets are affordable - between £20 and £40 - and the venue is attractive. It's in Holland Park: an open air theatre with a tarpaulin canopy. It's not a big theatre, so binoculars are surplus to requirements, and pre and post-performance and interval milling is easy. On both occasions I have been I have found myself in pleasant friendly conversation with random strangers. It is possible to pre-book a picnic and dine in style at reserved tables; otherwise, the worlds of Kensington and Notting Hill are a few minutes walk away through pleasant parkland.
On Thursday I shall be at Manon Lescaut - wonderful opera, indifferent reviews - at Holland Park and on Tuesday at ROH's new Tosca - thoughts on the Dress Rehearsal
Yes, yes, the sharp-eyed all well-memoried among you will grasp that these two events make the watching of Engerland problematic. Sigh
I'm skiving off Karita Mattila tonight at the Barbican but if anyone wants to collect a free ticket from Brixton Hill, just let me know. I'm not feeling wonderful and I have a challenging week ahead.
A brand new production of Tosca opens imminenently at Covent Garden, the first in my lifetime, and it's positively brimful of stars, a couple of whom I have already spotted on Floral Street.
An interview with Marcelo Alvarez: The Bee Gee who never was - he seems quite quite mad in a very endearing way.
I wonder if La Diva will be doing interviews. Rumours are that she has decided that rehearsals are over...
I love the way the newspapers put Box office details at the bottom, just in case anybody who's an opera fan,ora Tosca fan, or a fan of any of the three stars might not be aware that it's happening and might suddenly want to get tickets...(my advice, if you want them enough, you will get them, but perseverance will help!)
I'm never entirely sure about La bohème. When I did a review of a DVD I started off by saying "Let's start with suitably lowered expectations," and finished with "Madmusings - failing to 'get it', one opera at a time..."
Actually, not a great deal of change, there. I mentioned on a Newsgroup on Sunday evening that it is, at best my fifth favourite Puccini opera. I wouldn't like that claim to be overly scrutinised, but I definitely prefer Tosca, La Fanciulla del West, Manon Lescaut and even La Rondine.
Nevertheless, I decided to book up to see it at Covent Garden. I think my prime motivator was that Angela Gheorghiu was Mimi. I was really gutted to read that the scheduled Rodolfo, Yu Qiang Dai is indisposed for the run and is being replaced, mainly, by Tito Beltrán, and for two performances only, by Rolando Villazón. I know little or nothing about either Dai or Beltrán, but I really would have liked to see Rolando Villazón. I would be happy to hear him sing the phonebook. Sold out - Angela Gheorghiu does that. Ah well, I shall just have to satisfy myself in seeing Rolando (twice) in Rigoletto.
The production shown is nearly as old as me and older than some of the Principals on display. Safe, traditional, it works. Including the cast of millions in the second, Cafe Momus, Act.
Music - good. Storyline, all right. Characters, two-dimensional, but, hey, this is opera not Play for Today. I think I'm supposed to say, music great. But I can't bring myself to it. I was sat next to a chap in his late forties, who was with his son, a student, and was talking him through it. A little too much, I think. Didn't quite grasp the concept of shutting up when the orchestra was playing. Was convinced that the conductor was Antonio Pappano when the programme said it was Mark Elder (and it looked a lot more like Mark Elder than Antonio Pappano...). Asserted the tenor was Chinese - he looked very Chilean to me. But he summed it perfectly - all the great arias happen in Act 1 - Che gelida manina, Mi chiamano Mimi and O soave fanciulla - and it's worth going to anything with Angela Gheorghiu in it.
Although I have to say she sounded a bit below par, vocally. I wonder if she was being tacticle, because in the less interesting bits she sounded quite generic, but where it mattered those glorious gorgeous high notes were there in all their splendour, and, quite frankly, worth the price of the ticket alone. I wonder if she had vocal difficulties, she certainly seemed to be coughing a lot...
The tenor, Beltrán, was eminently forgettable. A whiny nasally voice, without the top notes required, and with, at times, a very vague approximation to pitch.
Most of the rest were perfectly adequate also-rans, although Angela Maria Blasi as Musetta was larger-than-life (over)-acting wise, and Jonathan Lemalu as Colline sang an eloquent Vecchia zimarra
But the star of the evening was Mariusz Kwiecien as Marcello, definitely to voice to watch out for again.
But musically, its largely a success. Making his Covent Garden debut, the young tenor Mariusz Kwiecien does sterling work as the painter Marcello he will no doubt be playing the lead very soon.
Hint to Jonathan Allen:
a) Do your homework
b) Mariusz Kwiecien is a baritone - the clue is, he sang Marcello, a baritone role. Actually the clue is in the programme you got, no doubt for free, along with your free Press Ticket (paid for by taxpayers, donors and the ticket-buying public...ligger!)
c) The lead is a soprano role. That means, er, woman.
And he gets paid for writing such rubbish? There are some pretty piss-poor showers calling themselves journalists, if you ask me...Chap sat next to me would have written a better review.
I spent the evening at the Royal Opera House's performance of Puccini's La Rondine. It has been called the afternoon off of a genius. Not being a big Puccini fan, all I can say 'Thank God he had the occasional afternoon off!' Actually, the music was less then memorable, and it's hardly surprising that thishas been called - incorrectly, IMO - an operetta. But very nice was the music, sounding very Twenties, although its actual first performance was 1917.
I'm going again, with Jimmy and Mummy, a week on Friday, and I am sure they will enjoy it. I shall save a detailed review for then, but I shall say: Angela Gheoghiu was gorgeous in voice and appearance, Jonas Kaufmann doubly so. The costumes were completely marvellous and the sets were to die for in their gorgeousness.
I had read some fairly negative reports about her Tosca. 
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