Regular readers of this blog will know that I had being looking forward to this concert in Berlin for many a month. Our tickets had arrived, by glorious serendipity, just minutes after I had returned home from seeing Plácido in Dublin. Since then, of course, I have seen him three times in Die Walküre. I did wonder if I was in danger of being complacent.
Nevertheless, I did experience a degree of audience-anxiety. I knew I would enjoy the concert, I was just anxious about Jimmy. Jimmy isn't a big fan of Plácido. Although he does like him, he would never have come to this concert but for me (nor would he go to one even in London). I so wanted him to enjoy it; I didn't want him thinking 'That was all right, but so what...!. And he had been suffering from aeroplane ears until we were halfway to the venue.
The seats we had were good, but not great. We had a clear view of the stage, but we were some distance. The actual programme is in the extended entry part of this post. It is similar, but not identical, to the concert in Dublin
I thoroughly enjoyed the concert, and, as far as I can tell, so did Jimmy. Plácido was just wonderful, although I would say that, of the five times I have seen him this year, this was probably the least wonderful. I think this is largely to do with acoustics. A voice as gorgeous as his doesn't need amplification in a 'normal' venue: at the Royal Opera House and the Albert Hall I could enjoy his unamplified voice, also at The Point because I was towards the front of the arena. Whilst amplification is necessary for a large, outdoor, venue, and, obviously, adds volume, I think it distorts and detracts from quality.
The orchestra were good. To me, they had a sound about them that was distinctly German, something about the tone of the lower brass and lower woodwind. Not a point I would wish to push too far, but it certainly got me pondering the extent to which orchestras, despite playing a universal international repertoire retain localised influences. Of the pieces they played, I am simply not overly keen on the Rakoczy March. I like the overture to the Sicilian Vespers; Jimmy loves it. To my mind, Verdi stole from it for La Traviata. This is not a bad thing. I also like the Candide overture whenever I hear it, but it's a tune that resolutely refuses to stick in my mind, despite the fact that I have it on a compilation CD I have played very many times over a dozen years or more.
I have to say that I was distinctly underwhelmed by Veronica Villaroel. To the extent that not only would I not go out of my way to hear her again, I would actively avoid her. She was really quite dreadful in the Charpentier, including an entirely missed high note which inspired winces from most people in my vicinity. The Cilea was dull and uninspiring. For me, probably her best bit was in the Meine Lippen sie küssen so heiss. Jimmy liked her in the I could have danced all night. I didn't. Admittedly this is a 'my song', one I have been known to break into spontaneous renditions of (usually when coming home from a pub...) but I think she just failed to 'get' the idiom. She was fine in De España vengo, soy española, but simply not a patch on Ana Maria Martinez.
As for the duets, she was adequate in both - although I have to say that Già nella notte densa is incredibly taxing for a soprano. When you hear someone, like Kiri or Renee. sing it well, you don't realise, but to hear a perfectly competent singer do it not frightfully well really makes one realise. In 'Tonight' she did enough - just. But her performance throughout was marred by straining for some notes, taking some others sotto voce and an ugliness of sound at the top, countered by a rich sonorous timbre in the lower register. During the encores, when she was waltzing, Jimmy felt that she seemed unable to respond to being led through a waltz (there were a good few thousand women in the arena who would have gladly changed places with her!).
As for Plácido, he was just fabulous. A consummate professional and entertainer, charming and smooth. When he arrived on stage, he kissed the hand of the Leader, causing amused 'oohs' from the audience. I don't know whether he stipulates that the Leader must be a woman, but there does seem to be a pattern...
I totally love O souverain, o juge o père, and no one sings it like him. He seems to sing it from the heart, like a prayer, and he has such a sweetness of tone. then there are the little touches - moving to a different microphone for the final verse, which has a lighter tone (and a different key?).
Winterstürme, perhaps surprisingly, sounded a little bit strange out of context, but it is a beautiful aria, from the moment the strings started their uniquely Wagnerian lilt. I have now heard him sing this five times this year, and, of the five, this was the least moving, but that is just a relative concept. Despite the grandiosity of Wagner, it is an extraordinarily intimate aria, well-served by set in the Covent Garden production, less well served by a glorious open-air arena in the setting sun.
Già nella notte densa is a wonderful way to finish the first half, the half of opera excerpts. From that evocative opening cello, to the final (because of what it anticipates) 'Ancora un bacio'. I love the way he just gets into the character (a character he sang frequently between 1974 and 2001) conveying all the pride, and doubt, of Othello. Even to the extent that his whole body language was portraying this.
(Plácido and Veronica had walked on stage arm-in-arm for this; Jimmy said 'He needs her to hold him up'. Just to wind me up, you understand. I had already promised that any remarks would be met with an elbow in the ribcage. He soon realised I meant it...!)
After the interval was Dein ist mein ganzes Herz. A lot of people seem to love this; I don't dislike it, indeed, it is pleasant, but I don't find it especially moving. His next number was Some enchanted evening, which he sang with the assistance of a music stand (for the music, or, more likely, for the words, I would guess). As he put his glasses on, he gave a little shrug, cute and endearing, but what is it with male vanity and glasses?
Tonight was almost the highlight of the second half. I didn't especially rate Veronica Villaroel in this, but I do so love Plácido singing this. It's perfect for his voice, and I like the way he really makes a contrast in tone, volume, emotion, between the opening and the closing parts, the aria and the cabaletta, if you will. However much I adore hearing him sing this, it also epitomised another factor of him I really appreciate. When he is earnestly expressing his love for 'Maria' his whole body language conveys an earnest young man fervent in his love. And there's something about the way he stands in adoration of 'Maria' that I find irresistible.
But the absolute highlight of the second half was No puede ser. There are people for whom this is their favourite aria in his whole repertoire, and although I don't actually agree, I don't make them wrong. The intensity and passion with which he sings this is astounding, and makes a fitting end to a lovely concert on some enchanted evening. Of course, Plácido is unceasing in his efforts - obsession? - to promote Zarzuela, and, certainly, the plot of La tabernera del puerto seems interesting; if No puede ser is representative of the music, I wouldn't reject it.
As the concert was over, there was much enthusiastic applause, a great number of camera flashes (as there had been throughout) and more sparklers, which I believe to be a custom at the Waldbühne - the woman next to me was waving a few about, which alarmed me slightly, but I resisted total panic...
Flowers were presented to the singers and the conductor; Plácido gave his to the orchestra leader. She seemed pleased...
But no concert is complete without encores. These followed a not dissimilar pattern to Dublin. He sang Amor, vida de mi vida, a beautiful lyrical song. Then he went off stage, and many people were wondering 'what's next'; indeed, a very very small handful of people left. I had a very strong suspicion of what was next, indeed, the orchestra began that familiar tune. And then the conductor stops - there's no singer on stage...! (yeah, yeah, seen it before...!). Plácido rushes on, and asks the audience if we know what the tune is - then he remembers, it's Granada..! And, oh my, how I love to hear him sing this. It's a fabulous song, one that he has been singing since he was child. And when he lets rip - well, that would have been a great ending!
And still, there was more to come. A waltz - although, as Jimmy pointed out, Veronica did not appear to be a natural waltzer and didn't seem to like being twirled round stage by Plácido...!
Then, the concert was over. He snatched back his flowers from the Leader, who jumped to her feet, annoyed (all totally spontaneously and unrehearsed, of course...!). So he gave them back to her, and took her by the arm, and led her off the stage, to good-natured calls from the audience.
A very very enjoyable night, and one I want to repeat, soon. He has a similar concert scheduled in Stavanger on Friday, and two in Montreal in November. But then, I don't know.
Just as a final comment, I find it interesting to see how different types of venues play their role in the performance . In Dublin, because, at least some of, the audience were close to the stage, he was interacting a lot with the audience, which adds to the fun. This wasn't so possible at the Waldbühne, where even the front rows are well set back from the stage, which is high up. Still, some fan threw him a present, which he caught (I suppose it would be embarrassing to miss a catch in front of an audience of 20,000).
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