Grease, its still the word

Yeah, how many of us don't know this, right? If you are anywhere close to my age, you probably saw it when it first came out in the cinema, or, at the drives, then when it came out on TV, then on VHS, then.... Well, you get the picture. Its a staple, everyone knows the story. Cute boy and cute girl try to overcome their differences in background to make a success of things in high school in California in the 50s. Its a story that many writers did, many times, with varying levels of success. Why has Grease worked so well? And why is it being run as a stage show on tour in Australia, for about the fifth time here?

Well, that clip from the movie goes a long way to explaining it. Fun songs, cute, likeable leads, bucketloads of energy, and, let's be honest, a lot of humour as we relive our youth, with enough commonality that we can all put ourselves into those roles we see on stage. It is close to being an urtext of the high school musical genre, if such a thing can be said. The movie was possibly the best expression of youth as we wanted it to be, rather than it ended up, that I can think of.

So, yes, any production of Grease on stage has a lot to live up to. Finding a group of performers who can sing and dance their way through the numbers and impersonate the leads from the movie close enough, and basically you have it made, right? Well, sort of. There is still a need to make it work as a cohesive whole, rather than a series of great production numbers with a story stuck onto it. Sadly, that is what it felt like at times. Sometimes it worked, and worked well. At other times, some scenes were like "get to the song already, so we can move on" which is never a good thing. I suspect some heavy editing of the book happened, or maybe just the director was not able to bring those scenes to life, but at times I felt like playing "spot what song goes here" before the song arrived. If I felt like that, something is wrong.

But, having said that, most of the singing was great. To be sure, who ever takes on the leads is going to forever be compared with the movie originals, and found wanting, but to be honest, most of the time that comparison was not happening. Rob Mills' Danny was filled with enough energy to carry him through, and, if Gretel Scarlett was not what we were expecting, well, frankly, who would be? The role is so indelibly associated with Olivia Newton John, that anyone has to be astonishing to make us not compare them. Needless to say, in her case, we got very good, not astonishing, so the comparisons were inevitable.

By far away the best of the main leads, though, was the Rizzo of Lucy Maunder. She owned that role, and filled it out with flesh and blood, in a way that the others couldn't. She also sang up a storm in her solo numbers, (Look at me I'm Sandra Dee and There are worse things I could do).  Also excellent was the Jan of Laura Murphy, who brought the "young one" to vivid life, in a way that many of the others failed.

Having said that, the Teen Angel of Todd McKenney was also hilarious, and fun, even if his singing was no where close to the best I have heard that his one song sung. He certainly got the audience in the palm of his hand, showing what is possible in a small part!

But, to be honest, though I enjoyed this show, it would not be a production I would go see again. Apart from the fact that I am more likely to go see an opera than a musical, this was, while well sung, and (mostly) well danced, it lacked something to my mind. Most people would laugh at me for this, considering the fact we are talking about a very commercial musical, but I left feeling the show was lifeless, or soulless. It was all well done, but it had no reason to be done, other than just entertaining. Themes that were there were played down, and we were left with a show that was less than the sum of its parts, rather than more. Which is a shame, because there was things that I did enjoy about it, but ultimately, I was wanting more.

Oh, and yes, before you ask, I did not pay to go. It was our work Christmas party, paid for by my boss.

So, instead, I will leave you with Olivia showing why no one else even comes close with this role.

The Nose, or Shostakovich giving the Soviet system the finger

The Nose is really one of those pieces that defies description. Its manic and fun and full of invention, both a trifle about nothing, that also at the same time, makes it clear that beyond the absurd tale, there is indeed deeper ideas afoot. Not that they all appear in one quick sitting, but complexities certainly there are.

To start with, I have to say, this is one of the busiest productions I have ever seen. The height of the Met Opera theatre stage is taken advantage of in many ways. William Kentridge's staging from the outset does not attempt to treat this story naturalistically, with  scenic elements that only appear as they are needed. Kovalyov's bedroom, the barber's room, the pressroom, the police station. They were all suggested, rather than depicted fully, and always skewed, or indeed, bent as if in a surrealist painting. But, that added to the sense of a world gone mad, helping this seemingly light fancy on its way, inviting the watcher to pick up other thoughts thrown out along the way.

But, yet, everything about the plot happened, there was no attempt to ignore the story, rather the non realistic sets made the characters more real, helped the performers build a sense of other, that worked in this mess of a morality tale gone awry. Yet, tho messy, there was clearly a firm hand on the direction. Everything linked back to the central story and fed from it. Constant projections onto walls showed the passage of the Nose as it travelled around while free, or words from what was sung, or pieces of text that gave the sense of newspaper reports, the breathless sort that the tale would generate.

So, to the singers. First of all, dominating over the whole plot, the man with no nose, Kovalyov, was played by Paulo Szot, in what should be a career defining performance, if he was not already well known for being the Emille that made South Pacific popular again a few years ago.   Here, he shows himself far more than the good looking French seducer (indeed, it is hard to imagine a less likely role to follow Emille Debecque with than this one, while staying in fach) Truly, this is one of those roles that dominates everything else. He brought us a vision of a man totally lost in his world, with his circumstances turned upside down, and did it convincingly, while singing beautifully. In honesty, his was the only performance that really mattered, it all stood or fell on his shoulders. Needless to say, it stood up, and tap danced!!

Not to say that no other performance was good, far from it. But, after Kovalyov, you then have His Servant Ivan, the Police constable, the barber and the Podtochina's, with the rest all being cameo roles who appear for one scene, then disappear into the crazy ensemble. Really, no performer stood out, as bad or good, tho for sheer madness, the pretzel seller will remain in memory, as a good example of how to make a crazy outfit work.

But ultimately, this production is all Paulo's, (and the directors) I will leave you with some of his work from it. Feel free to click on the link below if you want to see who else featured (all were good btw)

Full cast list from the Met Archives

Lise Lindstrom shows how to do Turandot. (Royal Opera House cinema presentation)

Lise Linstrom singing "In questa reggia"


Turandot is always a bit of an odd opera. Its title role does not sing until after the first interval.And its a role that often seems to end up as being judged not by how well the lead soprano sings, but is she loud enough to be heard, because the role is such a cruel piece to sing, that only the largest voices can do it justice. Which often means we miss out on the other things this role needs. The ability to turn from the ice maiden into the woman in love in a short space of time. The ability to convey the idea that everyone is afraid of you.

So, for this cinema production of Turandot, we have a soprano who I only knew of by reputation. But, what a big reputation. People who heard her in London in the theatre for this run, described her as the best Turandot since Gwyneth Jones, without Jones' wobble. A big call, to be sure, but having heard her in the cinema I can see why. Lise brings a very loud focused voice to this role. Her voices is totally at her command, no wayward notes, no spread top, everything totally controlled. To be sure, her quiet notes are not always as pretty as some, but, when you can sing with such a potent clarion tone, so reliably, who really cares in this role? She portrays the ice cold princess well, yet also portrays the eventual realisation that she actually loves this man well. Why, we never really work out, but then, it is opera, do they need a reason, besides the glorious music? Not to mention, a truly extraordinary In questa reggia (see above)

So, in many respects, this performance was all about worshiping the current great Turandot. That is not to say that there were not other things good about it, But her performance stood head and shoulders above the others. The first act in some respects seemed dull, lacking in fire. Dare I say it was because we did not have our Turandot? Certainly no one else on the stage was making that sort of performance that stood out as amazing. When the best thing on the stage besides the Turandot is the combination of Ping, Pang and Pong, you know that the other leads lack fire.

The Calaf (Marco Berti) spent the first two acts basically doing a Pavarotti stand and bellow. Which is fine, if you can sing like Pavarotti. If you can't you really need to offer more. To be sure, he sang with a big bold Italianate sound, full of ardour, but he scattered off pitch notes freely around the stage, only really coming good both with physical acting and pitch in the final act. That the Royal Opera cannot provide a better tenor than Opera Australia did with Rosario LaSpina (which several people commented on in the cinema) probably says all you need to know.

Even the Liu of Eri Nakamura only really came good in her final scene. Her Signora ascolta gave every appearance of a singer trying too hard, of working to make the sounds, rather than trusting in her voice to do its job and focus on portraying her character. Again, Opera Australia has a history of great singers in the role with Hyeseoung Kwon, for example, singing this aria and leaving the audience teary eyed. Did not happen here. However, her final scene was much more affecting, and did bring a lump to the throats of many.

On the other hand, the energetic trio of Ping (Dionysios Sourbis) Pang (David Butt Phillip) and Pong (Doug Jones) were very strong performers. They took their long scene and made it memorable. Their interaction with the rest of the cast was also strong. How they kept the energy up to perform what amounted to almost ballet while still singing, was beyond me, but they did it, and did it well.

Also, credit must go to the ballet and chorus who performed admirably. With such a frenetic staging, the dancers seemed constantly on the move in every crowd scene, while in many scenes, it is the chorus who must carry the most music. The sounds produced by them continue to be some of the best opera choral work I around at the moment.

However, for all its frantic movement, clearly Asian inspired (I was seeing a mix of Chinese opera as well as the tai chi that the choreographer claimed) I still found this at its heart a very traditional production. There was a strong sense of place, the costumes were all clearly designed as ancient Chinese, and the story was basically told clearly, with very little deviation from what is written. And, the score and the libretto were allowed to work their magic. And it worked. It worked mainly because of the strength of the Turandot, but, it worked. And we knew that we had seen a great performer in what is her signature role. That the others failed to live up to her so prominently is something that the Royal Opera should be considering.

Rosario La Spina singing in the Opera Australia production

Britten showing his pacifist side

Strange choice, yes, but it is the best recent video I could find, to show how Morgan Pearse sounds now.

So, Owen Wingrave, hey? Or, if you like, the time I finally pop my live Britten opera cherry. And, the first time I walked out of the end of an opera stunned. Stunned in a good way, as, having no idea of the story going in, beyond the outsider not fitting into the military family idea, I was invested in the story and the ending when it happened, was a powerful kick to the heart. I firmly believe that the sobs I heard on stage, were being matched by someone behind me, who was stunned by the ending. If you do not know the story, I recommend you see this without finding out the ending, it is so much more powerful that way.

So, yes, I loved this. But, as impressed as I was watching it played out on stage, I do not believe I would have enjoyed this as much just listening. This is an opera to watch, to listen and to absorb, then get angry about. It would not work as a pleasant listen like a Mozart or similar would, it all derives from the story.

So, anyway, this really was Owen's show, or, should I say, Morgan Pearse's show. If last time I heard him I was impressed, this time, I was shocked and stunned. This was the sort of performance that careers can be built on. Powerful, yet always musical and vocally in control, he portrayed the progression from confused but determined to determined but crushed by the family ghosts that surround him. To say that this was the most powerful and moving staged performance I have seen since Emma Matthew's Lucia gives you an idea of how he takes this role and makes it his own. This will stay with me for a long time. And haunt me.

As his good friend Lechmere, Pascal Herrington gave another of his fine performances. Yes, he was in the shade of Morgan, but, considering his strength as a performer, this was no surprise. His singing and acting, once again proving this is a performer with a big career ahead of him, as his voice grows to match his already impressive acting skills. A tall fair haired tenor who acts? That hardly seems fair. The fact that I know him for a genuinely nice guy as well is cruel! He brought humanity and a sense of normality with his role, as well as singing the crucial "there was a boy" telling of the ghost story in clear diction that in many ways was the emotional heart of this piece.

Also another impressively good was Emily Edmonds as Kate, the girl who had expected to marry the hero soldier Owen, but does not know how to deal with the new found pacifist Owen. The big demands of the role were a great fit for her big voice, and she was convincing as the girl with her eye on the prize, found wanting when the prize is not what was expected. Another performer I want to hear a lot more of.

As is Georgia Bassingthwaighte as Mrs Coyle, the wife of his military teacher, the only sympathetic characters who try to understand and care for Owen, when his family turn against him. Bringing the sympathetic characters to life against the cruel and tradition bound family, the Coyles were both well played and sung, though Simon Lobelson seemed lacking power vocally in his role.

But really, there were no bad performances in this piece. A couple of voices seemed miscast, but all the characterisations were vivd and strong, with some clever use of the space, although, I can't help wondering if maybe we would have been more shocked by the ending, if the room had not been set front and centre, and rather Owen was out of site, making the ending purely the reactions, not what happens.

But, that was a small quibble, for what was a very powerful night of theatre, where they also sang.

This is the "there was a boy" section, only half as chilling as it was presented by Sydney Chamber Opera.




The original production, for TV, conducted by the composer




Sydney Chamber Opera - Owen Wingrave from Hospital Hill on Vimeo.

 This was just recently put on line. You really get a feel for what the production was like with this.

Come fly with the Dutchman

Well, that was a ride and a half! Up close and personal with with the Sydney Symphony and some fabulous soloists for a Wagnerian opera. Like, really close. Third row close. My ears will take some time to recover from the eargasm.

To be sure, it may not have been the best place to hear some of the voices, as singer's voices do tend to be quite directionally focused, and they were definitely singing over our heads. Thus some passages may have struggled to carry to our seats, but it was only small patches, with most reaching us fine, even if not with the full power those voices displayed.

And what voices! Anytime you have Eric Owens on stage is a good time. Adding the fearless and magnificent Orla Boylan and Ain Anger as well, and you have the foundations for an astonishing performance.

So, from the outset, despite this being a concert in the symphony season, it was a very theatrical event. Before the concert started, the lights were dimmed till only the stage was lit. The backdrop lit up with images of the sea as the opening chords of the prelude kicked in. From there on, the magic of Wagner began to cast his spell, weaving his impossible gothic tale of horror and redemption.

It has to be said, from the word go, the orchestra and its conductor David Robertson were on fire, wringing out every inch of drama and excitement of an admittedly already exciting score. As mentioned before, this was a very theatrical concert, so as the usual choir stalls were behind the screens, the choir was set up with the men on one side of the stage and the women the other. The offstage horns for the calls to the Dutchman's ship were towards the back of the auditorium.

From the opening notes of Anger's Daland, there was no doubt we were in for a treat. His huge beautiful bass, used to good effect last week in the Verdi Requiem took on a new level, as he clearly revelled in the role, bringing nuance born of a clear understanding of the text. This was text driven singing, rather than just singing the notes, coupled with a beautiful expressive voice.

Beside him, the Steuermann of John Tessier seemed at first a little overwhelmed, but quickly grew in strength. His higher notes soared across beautifully, expressing the longing to be back home with his unnamed (possibly nonexistent) beloved. The timbre of his voice was just right for the role, making that youthful cry all the more right.

Then of course, the Dutchman of Eric Owens arrives, the reason for this performance in many ways. Sounding at once world weary, yet still also longing for release, he brought the mythic sailor to life, in both glorious sound and menace. His performance is every bit as good as as you would expect, but like many bass voices, his comes across much richer in person than in recordings. It's an unusual sound, as you would know if you have heard it, instantly distinctive, and glorious in villainous or troubled roles. The Dutchman is very much his role, just like his Alberich for The Met, a tour de force of singing a role, seemingly written for him.

I was also expecting good things of Orla Boylan as Senta. I was not disappointed. This is not Senta as ice maiden, this is Senta as glorious flesh and blood woman, a conflicted whirlwind of emotions, powered by a glorious sliver toned voice that cut through the orchestra with ease. She made the Ballad that is her big opening number both dramatically and musically cohesive, allowing the lyrical beauty to come through, as well as the intrinsic creepiness of the piece. She could make a fine career, just singing Senta around the world if she wanted, I expect.

To me, the Erik of John Dazsak was much stronger than his tenor soloist in last week's requiem. Whether the repertoire suits him better, or if having a character to portray is what made the difference, I'm unsure, but the difference was noticeable. He was convincing as the suitor rejected by Senta, abandoned for the hero who has haunted her dreams for years.

And, while it is only a small role, I also have to say the Mary of Sally-Anne Russell was a treat. She vividly brought life to the role, and was a clear demonstration that despite the starry talent on stage, Australia too has plenty of great singers, which Sydney Symphony needs to remember when casting. I know we have some great voices around, who we should be hearing and aren't.

And, as well as the great soloists we also had excellent singing (with much better diction this time) from the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs. They clearly relished being in character, and brought life to what could have been just stand and sing moments.

So, all in all another fabulous night of singing. I'm tempted to look for a ticket for Monday night to go again, though I suspect it is now all sold out...

 

I'll leave you with Ain Anger singing, for those who have not heard before...

Viva Verdi (RIP)

So, that Verdi Requiem, hey? Having been sung at loudly and gorgeously by four soloists and a massed chorus, as well as orchestra, for over an hour, everything does tend to become a bit numb. Gorgeousness blends into gorgeousness, counterbalanced with the fierceness of the fiery sections, as Verdi demands his full forces let rip in an orchestral orgy of horror at the day of judgement. And yet, so much beauty interspersed.

With the combined forces of the Sydney Symphony and the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs and the Tasmanian Symphony Orchestra Chorus, led by David Robertson, it was always going to be a big sound. Adding in three superb singers and you are pretty much bludgeoned into a delicious pulp. This is a good thing.

So, yes, I now can add Erin Wall to my list of Extraordinary Must See Singers. Beautiful, pure, lyric soprano, the sort that makes you go "how is she still singing that, that loudly and sounding pretty, not harsh?" Yes, she is one of those singers. Was it wrong I kept thinking through her singing of things I would love to hear her sing? Pamina and Countess both sit high in my list of things she would be amazing in. That heart breakingly beautiful sound would just leave you haunted in such roles.

So, needless to say she sang well. High notes wafted "up there somewhere" and the ability to go from the quietest pianissimo to her loud fortes without that sense of switching gears that you get with some singers. And such a beautiful sound from top to bottom.

Her mezzo companion was Olesya Petrova, bringing a big creamy sound, well matched to her soprano compatriot. The only time I found myself at all disappointed with her was in the Angus Dei section, when she and Erin sang in octaves. Next to Erin's higher notes, Olesya sounded slightly harsh. Not that she was, just that Erin was singing even more beautifully. It was weird, because the rest of the time, they sounded gorgeous together.  Something about those octaves though, left me thinking why is this not as gorgeous as it should be. Truly odd.

The other superb member of the quartet was Ain Anger, with a fierce bass sound. This is a man clearly used to singing bass villains, and doing it well. Sometimes, I heard a villainous snarl during some of his solo lines and thought, wrong piece for that flourish big guy, but otherwise he was fabulous. A big resonant bass voice who could boom fiercely through the Confutatis section. That it took over from the Ingemisco of John Daszak did seem a little unfair. For both.

To be honest, I was expecting better things from John Daszak. Now, maybe he was having an off night, or the Latin text is something he finds challenging, but I was definitely underwhelmed. Throughout, his voice sounded dryer, less resonant, and basically, tired. Maybe he was. He had sung the night before too (as had the others). But, having said that, all the notes were there, and when he was singing with the others, he blended in beautifully, the sections with him and the bass and the mezzo were just beautiful. I am just very glad the Ingemisco was not at the start, as he had improved by the time he got to that, but it was still not that gorgeous sound we were hoping for.

As for the choruses (for we had two in this), well, lots of sound, and no obvious wrong notes or bad entries. The only criticism I had, was that I would have liked more clarity of diction, but with that many singers, and a big choral concert from them next weekend as well, I can well understand why. That precision requires lots of drilling, and with two big concerts back to back, it does become a challenge to get both up to that standard.

Which of course, leaves David Robertson. For the most part, I liked what he did with his forces. There were a couple of interesting touches to how he shaped sections, noticeably at the end of the Dies Irae sections, where he worked to get an almost bouncy, juddering effect, which worked. My only criticism, would be I would like a touch more savagery and more of a turning on a dime feel to my Verdi. This was sometimes too pretty, when Verdi really comes to life with savagery. But, considering the forces, I suspect he went more for unity, rather than fierce precision.

So, on the whole, a truly fabulous concert. Not perfect but, very very good!

Erin singing a different Verdi, in case you do not know her voice.

And, now that the boffins have done their thing, the entire concert is available for viewing online...

Click here (needs silverlight)

Go see LA Forza!!!

Any opera called "the Force of Destiny" (or La Forza del Destino, in the original Italian) has to ask big questions, or at least attempt to, to avoid being laughed at. Its debateable whether Verdi does ask such question, but he does certainly fill his pot boiler of an opera with characters who seem to be doomed to spend their lives unhappily, their destiny set from before the opera starts, it would seem.

Tama Matheson has directed a very dark retelling of this tale. He has opted to focus on the story and its themes, and tell that, rather than try to update it to some other time, trusting in the source, rather than feeling the need to change the story to fit his ideas. Thus, the stage is filled with characters in period appropriate costumes.

And yet, the set itself, tended to be non naturalistic. Props that were needed were always available, and era appropriate, but the stage itself was mostly left blank, with a series of platforms and staircases wheeled in out and around, as needed, with curtains and a large revolve, used to change spaces as needed. At various times, other pieces were added and removed as required. A large skull often featured, with a giant statue of the Madonna, an altar, massed candles, and a crucifix, all appearing at times to add to the atmosphere of religious fervour, and oppression.

This production does take a few small liberties with the story though. Preziosilla, ably sung and acted by Rinat Shaham, became, not just a fortune telling gypsy, but an embodiment of Fate itself. She lurks menacingly whenever any scenes ripe for death or "significant plot event" happen. As characters die, she has kissed them immediately before, becoming the hand of fate that brings death. At times, the women of the chorus join her in this role. In the battle scenes, the women, hidden behind death masks, wander amongst the soldiers, touching them, which results in them dying.

So, about the performers. First, let me say, this is probably the best cast opera I have seen live in Sydney. There were no weak links. With five leads all at a very high standard, this is no mean feat!

First, of course, our Leonora, played by Svetla Vassileva, bringing a slight figure and huge voice to the role. Hers is a big, beautiful voice, used to good effect in this role. A few times her loud notes became a bit squally and wayward, but mostly she sang with gorgeous tone and portrayed the initial nervousness and then anguish of her character well. Singing much of her final aria Pace pace mio Dio lying on the floor, her torment at what had become of her life was almost too painful to watch.

As her fiance Don Alvaro, Riccardo Massi brought a strong tenor voice to the role. He was convincing as the impulsive foreigner in love with Leonora and whose plan to elope was destroyed by the intrusion and then death of her father, (well sung by Richard Anderson)

A welcome return to the OA stage was by Jonathan Summers as Don Carlo. Hearing the veteran sing with the strength that puts most younger baritones to shame, reminds us of a time when he was a regular singer here. His determination to get vengeance and repair the honour caused by the loss of his father was palpable, as was his brokenness from his loss.

And I mentioned Rinat Shaham before, so all I need to say is, how good is it to have a singer who can sing from the back of the stage, on a raised platform and still have her heard at the back of the theatre, over the chorus in front of her? Very good! Though why every director chooses to go nuts with at least one of Preziosilla's scenes, I have no idea. This time, her "Rataplan" results in all the chorus dying as she sings. Not the effect that Verdi was aiming at!

The lead that gets the least time though, who also impressed me the most was Giacomo Prestia. Big beautiful sounds poured out of him effortlessly, every time he opened his mouth. Can we have him back soon to sing King Phillip in Don Carlo? Please?

To give you an idea how big his voice is. His Melitone, Warwick Fyfe, who sang Falstaff earlier this year at OperaAustralia, seemed small voiced when singing next to him. Not that this was bad, Melitone is a smaller role after all (and Warwick filled it well) but the difference in voice size between them was noticeable.

It has to be said, there were lots of clever touches throughout this opera, things that showed the director and designers had thought long and hard how to create a strong sense of the atmosphere and story. These occurred throughout the opera. For example, in the opening, Leonora starts in a big elaborate wide dress and wig, which during her first big aria, she is helped out of by servants, as if her rebellion requires her to first be freed of the shackles society has put on her. She later spends the rest of the performance in plainer costumes, indicating that she has left her past behind her, even as her past will not leave her. At the end of Act2, as she puts on the monk habit before beginning as a hermit, the monk assisting her removes the hood from his head, revealing to us that, in her mind, she sees her dead father, and because almost paralysed with fear.

Andrea Licata was the conductor, keeping the forces well controlled. Personally, I prefer a little more forcefulness in my Verdi, but, the ensemble was tight and controlled, working with the singers to comment on the action.

So, my advice? If you like Verdi, go. You won't see a cast like this locally again in a hurry.

Sydney Philharmonia Triple Threat concert (or Stuart Skelton lovefest)

So, another Stuart Skelton concert. Another chance to glory at the singing of this man. Seriously, I am in awe. The clarity and beauty of his pianissimo high notes, that should not be legal on a dramatic voice. Seriously, those sounds, they belong in a lyric tenor, not a heldentenor. Yet, he stands there, singing beautiful soft floated notes that reach the back of the concert hall, that then swell into a huge sound that can be heard despite the full orchestra blaring. That is the sign of seriously good technique, coupled with a unique gift.

And yes, that is what we got. A lot of amazing singing. From the opening with the dawn interlude from Peter Grimes and the chorus that followed it, we got to sample Peter Grimes extensively. I admit, my Grimes knowledge is not extensive, I have yet to see a production in the flesh, and the production my memories of it derive from was in the 90's. But, gosh, so much beautiful filmic music. I mean that in the best way. The score is full of beautiful scene painting, and we got to hear some lovely excerpts from the score, with carefully programmed selections that flowed together to create a sense of the whole piece, while only playing a small fraction of the music. Of course, we got Stuart's glorious singing of "Now the Great Bear and Pleiades" which is about a thousand times better than the video attached here suggests. And Embroidery, sung by Cheryl Barker, who, as others have suggested, based on this outing, should do Ellen on stage. But we also got lots of chorus music, sung by the Sydney Philharmonia Festival Chorus, who while well drilled, sadly have about half the men they need. So, while they sounded glorious, there were times when the lack of male voices was painfully obvious.

But, more than anything, the chunks of Peter Grimes reminded me that I really made a mistake in not seeing the last Opera Australia Peter Grimes, a mistake I will not make again, if Stuart is singing it. It was a powerful demonstration why, to many people, he owns this role.

After Grimes, we had selections from Otello, starting with that gloriously unexpected choral opening that really does create the fear of watching a storm at sea. This was one of the moments that I cringed at the lack of male voices, but once it had passed, I went back to glorying in the joy of hearing a large choir sing these glorious choral scenes that Verdi used to advance his story so well. We also got to hear Stuart singing some of Otello's music, along with Cheryl as his Desdemona. Hearing them in a staged production would be a treat for any opera lover, even if making the big blond bear into a moor, could pose a challenge for the makeup department (not to mention, awkward in so many PC ways) Would it be too much to hope for? Sadly, I suspect yes.

So, after interval, it was all Wagner, all the way. With the assistant conductor Anthony Pasquill taking the baton for the Lohengrin excerpts, we had the prelude and bridal chorus from Act 3 with In fernam Land following. After hearing that, all I can say is, if you get the chance, go see Stuart sing Lohengrin. Seriously, there is no one out there who can sing it like that. Its like that aria was made for his voice. (The fact that I cannot find video of him singing it to demonstrate is highly annoying) The clarity of his pianissimo and the beauty of them, not to mention the ability to swell from them to full voice, its truly astonishing. And I say that, as someone who prefers deep voices to tenors. No one sounds like this. No one.

Then we had Tannhåuser, with a chorus and Dich, teure Halle from Cheryl, which to my ears sounded a bit overwrought somehow. It left me longing for someone with a young fresh sounding voice singing it (for example Jennifer Behnke, go look her up on soundcloud if you have no idea) but, it was still interesting to hear someone not known for Wagner, singing it.

Then we had selections from my favourite opera to end, Meistersinger. Some choruses and the prize song from the final act. Again, I now want to find Stuart singing Walther von Stolzing, just so I can go hear him in a staged production. That chunk was enough, to tell me I could sit through any abominable eurotrash production, if he was singing it.

So there you go. Some truly glorious singing, a couple of awkward repertoire choices aside for the forces involved, but a fabulous concert none the less. Go hear Stuart if he is near you, there really is no one else who can do what he does, anywhere near as well…

Bryn: in recital

So, Bryn Terfel, row F, so close you can see him spit as he sings, but not close enough to need an umbrella. And yes, he is every bit the amazing performer we know and love, up close as well.

Having said that, I admit, I suspect that if say, 3 years ago, I had been to a similar concert I would have been much more impressed, than last night. The years of working on heavier rep are showing on his voice, and now and then his voice showed that. But, when you have been working at the peak of the opera world, as Bryn has, for more than 20 years, basically from when you first started professionally, you do tend to expect a few signs of wear and tear. A few shouty notes that were flung, not placed, and a tendency for some of his louder pieces to come across as forced, not controlled, were the signs I was seeing.

But, having said that, we came to hear Bryn, the man, the humour, and his music, and we got that in a generous serving. He introduced the thought behind his programming in a brief chat before he sang. His first teacher at the Guildhall School of Music introduced him to the glories of English song (and especially through the poetry of John Masefield) so, we started with those. Songs that evoke the experiences of someone who moved around, exploring the UK, writing down reflections of what was seen. The second half was devoted to German lieder, based on the experience with his second teacher, Rudolph Piernay.

Throughout the evening, Bryn's diction was exemplary. Most of the time every word could be heard clearly, a feat that many singers struggle with. A reflection of the focus on German repertoire for much of his career perhaps? Or just a determination to get it right? Either way, it was impressive and pleasing. (And a lesson to young singers. If a large Wagnerian voice can be clear, so can you)

He also was very clear with the songs he sang to make them very much his own. Stretch a note here, emphasise something there just a little differently, to make a point. Always, it related to the words, or the music, always justifiable, even if not necessarily what we might call "good taste" But, he always had a reason for doing so, these were his interpretations, his performances, and if you did not like it, quite frankly, well you were at the wrong concert. His performances may not be the ones I would necessarily want on CD, but as live performances, they were compelling.

After the songs based on Masefield poems, we had a group of Roger Quilter songs. When I hear Roger Quilter, I often realise I know so little of his music and should learn more. Again, that happened here. A couple of beautiful songs, then a break for interval.

After interval we were firmly into German Lieder territory, starting off with a rip roaring Der Beiden Grenadiere, which, while full of enthusiasm, brought home how much Bryn's voice has changed. This is not the thing of beauty that won the lieder prize at the Cardiff Singer of the World contest, but rather, a matured voice showing signs of wear and tear, albeit one being used by a consumate showman of a singer. He was hear to entertain, and that he delivered in spades.

So, after that disappointment, to hear him sing such beautiful pianissimi in the quieter songs (including the one above) was a revelation. Frankly, the choices of Litany for the Feast of All Souls and to Sing on the Water were a demonstration that, while the voice may not be what it was, the artistry and technique behind it is still phenomenal. I think it is also the first time I have heard to Sing on the Water sung successfully by a large male voice, as opposed to a high light soprano.

He also had a lot of fun with the Trout, leaving me in no doubt, Bryn likes to fish. It was another case of Bryn as showman, rather than Bryn as fine musician, even though, to get there he had to be the latter, as well as the former.

He finished with a few "traditional Celtic songs" - Danny Boy, Passing By, All through the night and Loch Lommond, the last two getting audience involvement. How many of you can say you have sung with Bryn? (I can now)

And then for the (in a performance like this, mandatory) encores, we had "the Big Brown Bear" (which seems to be a common encore for him) and finally the entry into Valhalla from Das Rheingold, with amazing playing by Sharolyn Kimmorley. It wasn't the huge orchestration of Wagner, but she was able to create the sense of immensity that the orchestra creates at that point of the score, immensity, inevitability and finality. The fact she was was able to do that, after playing the mostly much more lyrical and flexible accompaniments of the songs, speaks volumes to how much an integral part of the concert she was. It also says something to me, that when he sang that small chunk of Wagner, he seemed to be singing what felt right. However enjoyable the evening had been, he is now, and is indelibly stamped, with the Wagnerian Baritone label, which is not a bad thing. Many of us remember thinking at the time he first burst onto the international opera scene with his Cardiff win, and his performance at the Saltzburg Festival as Joachanaan, that this is where he would be, given time. How right we were.

So, as much as I would have liked to have sat and listened to him sing an evening of his big signiature roles with orchestra, hearing him sing songs with piano accompaniment was a reminder of just how versatile he really is. And a very potent reminder of just how significant a performer he has been throughout his career. A great talent, with a charming presence, and a genuine pleasure in performing for others. Would that all were like that.

 

Bryn in 1989 (Cardiff Singer of the World contest)

The post apocalyptic fertile land of the soul that is Parsifal

Start by playing that video, and let that sound start washing over you. That glorious rich, lush, languorous sound of music from Parsifal, conducted by Daniele Gatti, who conducted the performance I just saw. He chooses tempi that are rather slow, making it a longer opera than normal. But, he also gives a very good case for playing it slower, bringing out detail and generally wringing every last depth out of the score.

And what a score it is! Wagner's last opera is quite something if you are new to his work. Its long, and very meditative. Much of the opera people spend time explaining what has happened, or why something is happening. The action, such as it is, mostly happens in the second and third act, yet the first is over 2 hours long. Yes, that is a lot of character development, and backgrounding, but this is an opera where "time here becomes space" as Gurnemanz tells Parsifal. Its also an opera rich in meaning and symbolism, that people argue over, trying to get a grasp on what is it about, and why does it grip us so.

For me, it has always been about redemption, both personal and as a group. It is about trying to find your place in the world, and learning to accept it. There is also an element of the standard fantasy novel that revolves around a young hero who has to go through a series of trials to find his way in the world. Though, in this case, the mythology is based firmly on the holy grail myths of the medieval period, not something pulled out of the post Tolkein leftovers of so much bad writing.

So, as you would expect, The Met pulled out a very starry cast for this production. This was a joint production that was already mounted at Opera Lyon, but with a very different cast. The director has opted to allow the story to tell itself, while updating the setting to the current, or indeed, slightly into the future. The set mostly is a hillside that appears to be post some ecological disaster. The ground is dry and cracked, with a stream that runs down the slope with a bend in it, dividing the stage up. During the first act, the stream starts flowing red. Is it representing the wound of Amfortas who is being washed when it happens? Or reflecting on how he fell? Or is it a foretaste of the middle act set in Klingsor's castle, a nightmarish location where the floor is covered in blood, as if to give the impression we are inside the wound.

And yet, for all the non traditional elements of this production, it remains at its heart a traditional production. This is a production that has been stripped back to the basics. There are no amazing scene changes to dazzle the eye when we switch to inside the Castle of the Grail Knights. Rather, everything is outside. The costumes are all modern, and very plain, except for Kundry and Klingsor, who clearly fit outside the ordered world. Even the Flowermaidens have plain outfits, even if is just a plain white slip dress that gets wet in the blood.

But, for all that, it was a very carefully thought out production. The very ordinariness of the clothes, the barren landscape, the lack of gimmicks, it was all deliberate. This is a production where the performers were put front and centre. Where everything that was done, could be linked back to the score. To be sure, there were a couple of exceptions where certain things happened in ways that were not as written by Wagner, but in this modernist take on a traditional production, they made sense. And, never once did anything jump out as wrong, or jarring, it flowed logically and seamlessly to the expected conclusion.

So, to the cast. This was the sort of cast you expect when you go to The Met, but only rarely get anywhere, a cast where there is no weak link, where every lead performer is both well known in the opera world, and well cast. Where you just sit back and revel in the sheer beauty of what is unfolding in front of you, and loose yourself in the magic that is Wagner's Parsifal.

So, at the heart of Parsifal, we had the seemingly inexhaustible René Pape as Gurnemanz, the wise knight who is our guide through much of the action. In most operas, having sung as much as he did in the first act, his job would be done, yet in the third act, he is there mourning his friend Titurel, discovering the return of Parsifal. It is he who sees what has happened, and realises that truly he has found in him, the pure fool who will heal and redeem the knights. There is something about the humanity that Pape brings to this role. Its the only way to describe it, but he is the humane heart, his actions are driven by his love for his fellow knights, and humanity in general. It is hard to imagine others bettering this role, but he will remain the model against which I judge all others.

As Kundry, the almost eternal woman, we had the glorious voiced Katarina Dalayman. Another experienced Wagnerian, she worked to bring life to a character who seems to be different in each act. Here, she succeeded as much as can be expected. Her performance often felt like watching an amnesiac, as if Kundry could not remember what had gone before, and yet at others she was the all wise woman, who knows far too much. It worked effectively, even if the seduction of Parsifal ended up feeling like watching your mother try to seduce someone. Somehow the sexy got lost amongst the motherhood for me, leaving me unconvinced, except realising that there was a spell involved in bringing the attraction. And again, vocally, this was a big powerful, seeming tireless performance. To be sure, some of her quieter moments sounded less pleasing than her loud ones, but it was more a quibble than a complaint. This was a big sound, fully controlled and a seamless performance of a role she understood and lived.

As the wounded Amfortas, we had Peter Mattei, singing the role as if he was born to it. To be honest, I was not expecting him to be so successful in the role. For me, he was always more the lighter Mozartean voice. Shows how much you need to hear voices live to understand them I guess. However, he lived that role. The agony he faced, was painfully obvious with every move. His deliberate decision to crawl into his father's grave, to die with him and end the suffering was a logical step in his pain, as well as worked well to help hide the removal of the wound from his skin when time. And he sang the role well, full of anguish, yet still beautiful sounds.

Yet ultimately this is Parsifal of course, so the production depends on a tenor who can produce the goods. And yes, we had that. Jonas Kaufmann is both a consummate actor, and a powerful singer. Part of me wanted a different singer in this role, because I have a connection with two tenors who have made the role their own. Yet, really, who can fault Kaufmann? He gives all to the role. And brings the lost soul from the beginning to the man who brings wholeness to the knights. It really is a remarkable performance, proving why for many he is the go to singer for many of the Wagner tenor roles.

So, really, what can I say? This was a performance to marvel over, of an opera that dares to ask questions that do not always have answers. It challenges you to think about your actions, to look to yourself and your own actions. Will you rise to the occasion when the big decisions come as Parsifal did? Or, will you fail, and succumb as Amfortas? Yet, even as you ponder those questions, you are left with the glorious music, especially those big transcendent choruses, always demanding more. i fear they will haunt me for a long time to come. And I welcome this.