Orpheus 2 (Monteverdi)

Before I write about the performance of L’Orfeo I saw the other day, I think I need to provide some background on vocal techniques. If you are already familiar with the differing sound of what are classed as “authentic performance practice” vs the modern operatic sound, feel free to skip straight to the main review section. Otherwise, keep reading.

Just to refresh, this is the sort of voice we think of in opera

Jessye Norman singing Dido's lament

You might think of this as a “bel canto” sound. Basically, this is a style of singing designed to carry over a large orchestra, in large theatres. A singer sounding like this has trained to maximise the size of the sound they produce, by working to increase the resonance they can produce.  This also requires using the abdominal muscles and diaphragm to provide airflow under pressure through the throat and out. Paradoxically, training in this way is often about learning to “get out of the way of the sound” rather than learning what to do to produce the best sound. 

The biggest difference between how a classical singer and the average "normal" singer produce sound is in how they control the airflow. When you sing, do you think of pulling the air up through your throat? Or does the air get pushed up by the pressure from below? If you don't know, you probably have a sensation of pulling it up most of the time. It's just one of the reasons why opera singers sound different. Opera singers by relying on pressure from below, free up mechanisms that enable a more resonant sound to develop.

This produces a sound with lots of resonance, or harmonic overtones, if you will. This provides the additional ping that enables operatic voices to cut through the wall of sound of an orchestra (or a chorus) and be heard as a distinct recognisable sound, carrying over the other sounds. How is this achieved? By training, based on long recognised practices developed over past centuries. Also, more recently, the why this works has become understood better as a result of improving medical diagnostic equipment providing a better understanding of how singers function, by enabling us to see into throats as people sing.

Now, with opera singers, we have a pretty good idea of what they sounded like from the 1800's on. We can draw lines and compare with recorded voices and get a reliable sense of how the performers many composers were writing for sounded like. And we have written descriptions, and teaching manuals written from this time to compare, including some that we still refer to. And, it is close enough in memory that we can tell the changes in technique have been more about a lifting of the lower standards, than changes at the high end. So, we have more singers who can sing well, than we had in the past.

However, when we deal in the baroque or earlier, we lose all sense of immediacy and connection. We know that the training was not as thorough for most people, we know that music performance was usually in much smaller numbers, we know that opera was not something that just anyone went to. And yet, when it comes to what the sounds were like, we are reduced to relying on eyewitness descriptions, with no common starting point to compare it to. None of the singers described of course, were ever recorded. 

One of the most common beliefs is that the level of additional harmonics in early vocal practice was much less. The orchestras they were singing against were not as large, so they did not have the need to produce as focused and loud a sound to be heard. So, in many ways, the sound we hear today is more a result of increasing orchestra numbers, than any  aesthetic ideal, though the result became an ideal as well, if you follow. 

But, the modern developing technique did not just increase the sound produced, it also enabled notes to be sung over a bigger range. There is a noticeable increase in the range required to sing music when you go from the the baroque and earlier to more recent music. The improving techniques which were passed on allowed the extremes of a singer's voice to be used easier, and with more pleasing results. The additional resonance allowed vocal imperfections to be hidden, and allowed the singers more flexibility, as well as beautify the sound. 

Another thing that happened with the changing techniques was the increase in the use of vibrato. We can assume this partly because vibrato comes with a free healthy vocal technique. A good voice technique is usually thought of as one that brings freedom to the voice production, with reduced tension. And, of course, as tension goes, and the voice becomes free, you will get vibrato. It's one of the things a voice teacher will be pleased as it happens, not as an end in itself, but because it is a sign of reduced tension. 

But vibrato also is useful for singers because it hides pitch imperfections and helps to even the sound across a singer’s range. If you are slightly off the required frequency for a note, the vibrato masks that, by adding momentary changes on pitch and volume. It is commonly accepted that early music singers did not sing with strong vibrato, in part because of its association with modern voice production. So, if it is something that develops during the development of a modern technique, many assume automatically, it does not belong in an early music vocal sound, forgetting that some people have one naturally, simply because that is the way they always sound. It's not like we can check the recordings, is it? 

So, if you were listening to a baroque or pre baroque vocal performance, what should you be hearing? Well, part of it is inevitably a matter of taste. There is a school of thought that says you should always try to replicate the experience the music was created for, to best appreciate it, a position I do hold some sympathy for. After all, hearing Handel and Bach performed on the type of instruments they wrote for, not modern ones, has revolutionised how we hear their music. We now hear the lightness and dance rhythms that frequently were lost amidst the richness of a modern orchestra's textures. This is what we call the "authentic performance" or period instrument movement.

Emma Kirkby singing the same aria with a more "authentic" sound

At the same time, we also have seen the problems of performing on those same instruments. Modern violin strings made from metal hold their tune longer, and provide a richer sound. Most of the modern wind and brass instruments are easier to play, and easier to hit on tune notes, ensuring the notes played are what the composer wrote, even if they do not sound the way he expected. As a result, many feel we should stick to using modern instruments. Surely Bach would have written for modern violins if he knew about them, would be how they might think.

Of course, with instruments, its fairly clear cut, we know what was being written for, we know what instruments were being made by whom, and often, for whom. With voices, it gets harder. We have no way for sure of saying what people sounded like. We can make educated guesses about performance styles and techniques based on what we know of musical history and the like, but they do remain guesses. We know that early operas were usually performed in large rooms in royal palaces, not in theatres, and we know in many cases who performed them, but we are guessing what they sounded like.

So, if we know that the spaces were smaller, and the number of performers used were smaller, it stands to reason that the techniques which enable those things to happen would not have been used. There was no need for them, so those they had not been developed. So, the high level of harmonic overtones would not have been used, with their piercing abilities, and probably the vibrato that comes along. We don't know for sure, but it seems a valid conclusion.

We also know that there were vastly fewer singers of high ability. Only limited numbers of singers would have been formally trained, and travel was not something that happened for many, so knowledge was not passed around quickly. But, at the same time, there is no reason to assume singers had not learnt about controlling breath flow via the abs and diaphragm, rather than trying to sing from the throat, as it were. 

So, we could assume, most singers who sang in early performances, like those given by Monteverdi at Mantua, would have been people lucky enough to have a naturally pleasing sound to their voice who were musical and thus gained employment, or else trained for performing in local church choirs. The idea of someone training to get their "ah" sound just so, like happens today, would not have happened. 

So, knowing that, we could guess the singers were pleasant sounding, but not highly resonant voices, probably with only light vibrato (or none), who were loud enough to be heard over a small band of instruments that most likely required regular breaks to retune. And sang in a room that held less than 100 people. A far cry from pretty much any modern production. 

So, now that you have that overview, simplistic as it is, its time to start looking at the performance I heard.

 So first of all, I need to set the scene a little. As I said earlier L'Orfeo was written by Monteverdi to be performed in the palace of the Dukes of Mantua, the Gonzaga family (Im sure you have heard of them). The audience probably totalled about 100 people. For this performance we were in the City Recital Hall, at Angel Place, a modern 1200 seating concert hall. We had seats in the front row, at the middle of the top balcony, so an excellent view and good sound, in a venue vastly larger than what Monteverdi had envisioned for his first true opera (and the oldest opera that we still have the score of)

When Monteverdi wrote L'Orfeo, he specified the instruments he wanted, and when he wanted them, but unlike modern operas (or even some of his later ones) he did not specify what he wanted to play what notes. This was common in the music of the era, to not set out the exact scoring, but rather the music and let the performers improvise around the music given. He specifies that he did wanted the players to perform with accuracy and taste, clearly indicating that he wanted the singers to be to the forefront, after all, their music is set out clearly. As a result, no 2 performances of Orfeo (even allowing for the different versions of the score that Monteverdi wrote) will ever be the same.

He also gave the singers in some cases two versions of their music, an ornamented aria, and a plain version of that same aria, to make it clear, where he wanted them to ornament and improvise, and where not to. He also made it clear that some performers should be expected to double up on roles, singing say La Musica and Eurydice, or similar. Bearing in mind there are 11 named characters, and a significant number of other solo performers who are not listed by name, this totally makes sense. In the production we saw every named soloist got a costume for his named role. If doing a solo as say a nymph or shepherd, they were in the costume of that. So, all up we had 13 singers, most of whom doubled as chorus when not soloing. Accompanying them was an orchestra of 23 performers on period instruments, several swapping between instruments as was traditional when first performed.

So, yes, as described earlier, we are in very much in the "authentic performance" style for this production. Although, as I mentioned, this venue is much larger than would have been contemplated for performing in by Monteverdi. Other things that will help to set the scene in this production. All the performers were dressed very much in modern dress, that in various ways reflected the nature of their role. I am not sure that white pants, shirts and waistcoats are appropriate for shepherds in the fields, but it did make then clearly not the infernal spirits they became later (in all black, with sunglasses) The singers themselves have a walkway behind the strings and harpsichords, with a big area out the front of the orchestra as well, in which to perform. There was no sets however, but the performers all acted out their roles fully, bringing to life the emotions of the characters of the story.

Our first performer we meet is La Musica to sing the introduction to the story and set the scene for what is about to happen. Sara Macliver was both La Musica and Eurydice, and she sang with her bright high soprano, clearly trying to reduce the resonance in her voice to bring it to an appropriate authentic sound. While she did not cut the vibrato out, it did become something that was only allowed to happen on occasion, and her voice was definitely missing some of the full sound it can have. Having said that, Sara does tend to sing a lot of baroque music, so clearly she is comfortable doing this, and she sang both roles with aplomb, her high bright sound only a little less bright than normal. She also never once sounded less than at ease and in charge of her music, making it her own.

As Orfeo (and the only singer to not double a role,) Markus Brutscher was new to me. He brings a big voice to this role, and inhabits it with considerable histrionic ability. He sang like I would expect an early music voice to sound, with reduced resonance and no vibrato, and with a substantial variation in sound through the range of his voice. It was not how I would choose to cast this role, but his is an impressive voice, and left me curious how he would sound in some of the big roles in say Verdi or Wagner. Would he be able to work his technique to sing in a true bel canto style still? If so, I would love to hear it, but as Orfeo, his voice left me wishing for more beauty and sweetness. This is after all a man who was supposed to be able to charm gods, men and beasts with the beauty of his music, yet I was left impressed but not in love with the sound. Yes, that could just be me, but as I said earlier, it is also partly a matter of taste. Having said that, it was an impressive performance, in a role that dominates this opera, much as say Siegfried does in the opera of the same name.

As the Messenger and Persephone, Fiona Campbell brought her big voice in to good use. As the Messenger, her voice did literally bring the music to a standstill as she revealed the bad news. This was a perfect piece of casting. Have a big voice come in that can cut across the celebratory mood and kill it with a blast of emotion as you bring bad news. Unfortunately, as an authentic performer, Fiona is less successful. Yes, she has a fabulous big voice, that is rich and full of emotion. But, her efforts to reduce her vibrato and reduce the resonance were less successful. Most of the time the vibrato was achieved and there was less sound coming out than she can bring, but it did tend to create a slight hootiness to her sound, and the straight tones also showed up some pitch waywardness on occasion. It was not often, but I noticed it, when I have never heard such from her before. It was certainly not enough to detract from what was a great performance, but I did notice it, which surprised me.

As both Plutone and Caronte, Wolf Matthias Friedrich brought a big dark bass sound to the roles. His was a more traditional voice, resonant and strong, but troubled in the lower notes for Caronte, leaving me to suspect that this role was just a touch too low for him. I did not notice this happening as Plutone. He brought distinct characterisations to each, which considering they were in scenes that followed each other, was quite impressive.

Other voices I need to comment on as great were obviously Tobias Cole as La Speranza (Hope) bringing a clear countertenor sound to what was sung at the original by a castrato, and Richard Butler, who as frequently the only bass singing in the ensemble had seemed to often be completely lost amongst the other voices, yet when he got his chance to shine as a soloist, proved he had a bass voice of considerable power and beauty, so I could only assume he had been told to keep the sound down in the ensemble scenes as a musical decision by Paul Dyer, the Musical Director.

Robert Macfarlane was impressive in his solo moments too. He brought a traditional bel canto tenor sound to his roles. Having said that, he brought a great deal of musical sensitivity with him, and I certainly expect to hear big things from him in the future, as he is clearly a young singer, with a big future.

Likewise Morgan Pearse impressed as Apollo, who as the god of music and also the father of Orfeo in this story, who brought the action to a close. His bright baritone seemed more than a little out of place, as he sang with a traditional bel canto style, full of resonance and vibrato. However, there was no disputing that having the two gods with the most resonant voices (Apollo and Plutone) would work as a casting device and also as a dramatic one, although, considering that, why not Orfeo as well, seeing as his voice is supposed to be supreme?

 From the non vocal standpoint, the orchestra were great. All playing period instruments (or facsimiles), there was very little of the dreaded "period intonation" and a great sense of ensemble. Paul Dyer directed from the harpsichord (and organ), but the level of rehearsal and comfort was such that he rarely bothered to conduct his players, mostly just indicating his pleasure, or indicating specific stylistic touches he wanted.

So, what else to say? Well, artistically, this was an impressive production. Not a production to my taste, maybe, but a good performance of a work that is of great historic significance to music in general and opera specifically. It was given a performance that allowed it to speak to those who attended. And yes, I was pleased to go, and I can see the appeal behind it. It is also not something I would rush out to see again, simply because much of the music did not grab me as appealing. I admit it, I am more a fan of the big bold and spectacular, and I happily admit it. But, I also have to say, the chance to go see one of the seminal works of an artform I love was not something I could walk away from, and I did enjoy it. I just did not enjoy it the way I could have enjoyed, say Aida or Meistersinger. That in itself is not a criticism, just a reflection of taste.

I enjoyed a work not to my taste, and had plenty to think about and enjoy from the memory. I think that in itself, speaks volumes about the musical strength of what we heard.

Orpheus Experience 1

(Can Can from a professional French production)

So, a student production of "Orphée aux enters" last night… It was lots of fun. No, make that FUN.

Because, really, isn't that what Offenbach really about? Fun music and laughs, hopefully sung well. And, on the whole, this was not sung badly, with some stand out performers. And to be sure, I know this was a student production, so I was not expecting big polished voices. In fact, to be honest, I was not sure what sort of standard to expect. I certainly was not expecting it to be this good

First of all, this production stands and delivers with a fine Pluton. Of course, that was no surprise to me, as Pascal Herrington was Pluton the night I saw it. Having sung on stage with him in the past, I knew his abilities. But, that was a number of years ago. Last night, he delivered. His Pluton was a masterly performance that worked multiple accents (which he held while needed) and a secure singing voice, while still providing clear diction. He also was one of the better dancers. Those years of music theatre showed!

Also, good was Daniel Macey as Jupiter. Definitely not as secure as Pascal in his dialogue, but he shows signs of developing a very nice voice indeed. Though he is still very clearly early in his development.

Daniel Tambasco as Orpheus was also pleasing. He took the role of Orpheus as rock god and worked it. He worked hard and got plenty of laughs. He also sang quite well, but his is again, a voice I expect to improve with time.

Amy Corkery was probably the standout of the women, showing a big flexible voice with a pleasing comic sense, and quite good acting skills. I did find her voice became less secure as the show progressed, but it is a big role to sing when you are still working out your technique, so all I will say is, I look forward to seeing how she develops in the future. Spinto territory I suspect.

As Venus, Bridget Patterson was probably the most secure vocal technique. A pleasing voice, but not one that jumped out as fantastic. I may be showing bias against lyris sopranos of course.

On the other hand, the voice that did stand out and wow was that of Alexander Knight as John Styx. Why the best voice in the cast goes to the small character part I am unsure, it seemed such a waste. However, this was a truly impressive tenor voice, a big voice signing a character tenor role. He really left me wishing there was more to the role, he was that good.

I also can't go past the Mercury of Thomas Birch. Not the best voice I have heard by any means, but anyone who can sing Mercury AND tap-dance, has to be applauded. That he did both quite well, and looked cute? Bonus points from me!

The direction as a whole was played for laughs, as it should. Dialogue was in English and the arias were in French (with subtitles). The cast were singing both their roles and chorus, not just when written, as the ensemble was quite small. That said, the amount of sound produced by such a small cast was impressive. The fact that the chorus is made up of the second cast, possibly has something to do with it…

As does, no doubt, the music direction of Stephen Mould. Such tight ensemble work is a credit to him, and the work done by the performers. The fact that many of them had to dance at the same time? I was very impressed!

So, to sum up? Great fun, worth seeing if you can. Yes, it is a student work, but then, I have heard worse singing on stage in professional performances. Yes, the voices are smaller, but the theatre is too. And I had no problem hearing any of the soloists from the back of the theatre, nor were they ever drowned by the orchestra.

But most of all, go because it is fun and you will have a good giggle.

So, last night, I saw Aida again....

Leontyne Price shows us how it is done (O Patria Mia)

 And Ritorno vincitor from the same night, (her last night at The Met)


First of all, for those that do not know, Jacqueline Mabardi is no Latonia Moore (or Leontyne Price). This was no surprise to me. However, I was relieved at her not being anywhere near as bad as I was led to believe. Not as big a voice as Moore (obviously) she still sang the role credibly, with that mix of control and abandon that we need to hear. However, my criticism would be that her voice lacks the clean focus that Moore (and for that matter Leontyne Price) has. This is a voice which seems too much core, not enough focus. Which makes me worry about the long term use of it, as well as explains (when I think about it) why the floated high notes near the end were not soft and floating, but hit with too much power.

Against Mabardi, Rosario La Spina and Milijana Nikolic came across as much stronger than previously. At the start, I suspected La Spina was having troubles, as he seemed a bit hesitant in the recit before Celeste Aida, but the aria itself was fine. However, I do think as the evening went on, I could hear him off the peak of the previous performance. Possibly a cold? Or hay fever? Either way, he still sang with power and ease throughout his range. And yes, his voice is not the prettiest tenor, but the power and security of his line of sound, means that quite frankly, I don't care. We need singers who can do the job, and he does it well. Nikolic sang better than I remember, but again, possibly a comparison situation?

Having said that, I can say that Warwick Fyfe and David Parkin were definitely an improvement on Michael Honeyman and Paul Whelan. Both much bigger voices, though I still feel both seem too small in these roles. But, they were more secure and larger voices than before, and were both convincing in their roles.


Now, having said all that, I also have to say, we need some new good Verdi conductors in the pit. Our conductor Andrea Licata seemed unable to get the fire of Verdi in the belly of our orchestra, at times they seemed rather tepid. If you cannot bring the fire and passion to Aida, you do not deserve to be conducting it. Also, there were a couple of times where things started to get a little bit out of synch between the stage and pit. Not train wreck badly, but I spotted it, so it was noticeable.

As for the production, once again, while I love the many clever touches of this production, I again was wishing at times people would just stand still and sing! That the director was a dancer is very obvious. Yes, the dances were witty and fun, but we do not need a chorus to move around on the stage in the temple scene, its meant to be static.

Oh, and some of you know that we took an opera virgin to this production. He loved it, and was moved by it in a good way. In some ways I think that is the best compliment we can give. Someone who did not know the story before, got the story, and felt for the characters. Its not rocket science folks, it should just work!


Previous performance review here

Cunning Little Vixen.. Indeed

So, Cunning Little Vixen, hey? An opera I knew of, but had never seen. So thanks to the generosity of ABC Classic FM and the wonders of cinema, I got to see the Glyndebourne production.

And what a production it is. Truly sumptuous and beautiful, yet playful and bringing a fanciful story to life..

 

 

So, first off, let me say, I have never seen a production of this before. And, well, I had no idea it was going to be so funny! Like belly laughs in the theatre funny. But it was. And it is. Funny.

But, the music you say? Well, Janacek would have been pleased, I am sure. The orchestra sounded both lush and brash, with spiky alternating with lyricism as seems to be Janacek's way. Vladimir Jurowski lead them with a very sure hand. Melly Still has directed a gorgeous production with amazing costuming and sets.

Now, about the performers…

As the Vixen, Lucy Crowe was a lot of fun. She had the feisty minx down pat. Was she as successful with the love scene? Possibly not, but that really is a small part of the story, not dominant, so it does not matter as much. She sang beautifully throughout and appeared to be having a ball. We certainly had a ball watching her.

Sergei Leiferkus as the Forester at first seemed to be a bit out of sorts, but he grew into the role as the evening progressed, which is just as well as his biggest vocal demands are at the end. You ended believing in him as someone who loved this forest, even as he was also clumsily rustic earlier.

But for me, the biggest vocal treats were two of the minor players. I loved the voice of William Dazeley as Harasta the poacher and Mischa Schelomianski as the Parson and Badger, both deep rich voices full of resonance. Yes, I know, how surprising! I particularly wished that Harasta was a bigger part, simply to hear more of that voice.

Of course, this production is very much about the animals.  My favourites were definitely the hens. A chorus of hens, who get attacked by a fox. What could go wrong? (smirk) They really were hilariously funny. All preening desperately for the attention of the rooster, but most ending up dead thanks to our heroine.

But ultimately, this production stands or falls by the effect. Do the animals tell you something? Do you get a sense of having seen something life affirming? Are you reminded of a world out there, beyond your immediate surrounds? And for me, the answer, resoundingly, was yes. This was a production both funny, and with heart, that truly rare beast. And left me saying "more please"

 

 

Enough regietheatre!

I want to talk about something, but I am not quite sure how to describe my problem.  Basically I want to talk about two DVD's I have watched recently and how they compared and why one annoyed me intensely, and one didn't. But at the same time, I want to explain why it was not just a knee jerk reaction, but rather, it was a reflection on why I think so much of opera, and especially German opera, is heading down a dangerous path, that will end in tears, not the glory they seem to feel.

I would have liked to have started with videos from the relevant DVD's but youtube seems not to have any of either of the relevant ones, so, here are a couple that may help you understand.

Exhibit A

Exhibit B





Ok, now you get a sense of what I am talking about, the conflict between opera as bringing extant text to life versus bringing the director's ideas and nightmares to life while singing something that may or may not have anything to do with what they are surrounded by. I jest, but you get my drift.

The particular DVD's were Tannhauser as performed by The Danish Opera vs Das Rheingold as directed by Herbert von Karajan in a production created purely for film. Needless to say, the Danish one (directed by Kasper Holten) was the one that annoyed me intensely, while Karajan the traditionalist was the one that stuck to the storyline allowing the story to tell itself. It also made me wish that he had been able to do the other 3 operas in the Ring cycle as intended. Not because I think he was a gifted director, but because he was happy to allow the story to tell itself, without feeling the need to add his personal ideas to intrude into the story.

On the other hand, Kasper Holten's direction involved him writing a new scenario, and then shoehorning the opera into that. Now, in theory, I have nothing against that, so long as you can make it work. To do that, you have to make sure everything can be made to work within your scenario. And that the subtitles/subtitles do not make people laugh out loud because they go against everything your scenario states. Which happened for me on several occasions.

I guess part of my problem is that I come from a background of not seeing a lot of opera, but knowing a lot of operas from their music. At one stage, I had performed in more operas than I had seen. So, as a result, while I know the works, I am not always familiar with what particular performers are famous for doing on stage, but rather how they sound doing a role. So, for me, the operas first and for most are about what is written in the score. The idea that performed opera should be about something more than the music and words, but rather about the director's own neuroses and fixations I find frankly annoying. I mean, it is not as if any of the composers were not a mass of contradictions and fears and stuff like the rest of us, far from it! Many of them, lets be honest, are people that we would not want to know in person, or find frankly offensive if we met them in person.

But that is not my concern. I mean, some of my favourites were horrid people. Wagner is well known for being horrible to everyone who knew him. But, that was not the point.

My concern is more about a need to respect the work. These are works (in most cases) that have stood the test of time. The vast majority of operas that are performed regularly are over 100 years old. They continue to be performed because they speak to us, because they fill our lives with something more. They speak to us through the combination of music, story and words. The words inevitably ending third, not because they are lesser, but how many of us speak multiple languages and can catch the words sung at us across the room? We get the story, but the meaning is carried by the music and the actions on stage, as well as the words, (and by the surtitles in the theatre, assuming we can see them), and how that is brought to life before us.

So, if the staging does not bring the story to life, but rather detracts from our understanding of the story, how can it be a good thing? Unless your whole purpose in going is to see colour and movement and hear pretty sounds? And, if that is the case, why bother with opera? I mean, operas are all about life at the extreme, where life is dangerous, intense and confusing. Its not for nothing that many of the best operas deal with the myths and legends of our past that we have created to explain the world that we struggle to understand, its because that is how opera works best, by making our most primeval stories into art and sanity.

So, if at its heart, opera is about telling the stories that matter to us, why do we settle for stagings that end up leaving people more confused than when they start? I mean, for that matter, if the story that is being told matters so little to the director and those in charge of the company producing it, why bother with staging it? Why not stage something they like? Like, something they wrote perhaps? Oh, yes, well, that might not work out so well, hey? Who wants to see something that no one knows about? But a known piece of work that is reworked by modern artists? Which sounds great, except most of the time it seems that our understanding of the work, is not helped but hindered.

So, you see where I am at. Why should I want to go see something that has as its focus, not what the writer's intentions, but what those who put it together seem to have as fixations? Why should I be expected to have to choose what I go to see based on who is directing it, and whether I can cope with his (or her) nightmares enacted on stage, rather than just worrying about whether I like the particular show, or whether the performers in question have the abilities to sing the roles?

I want to go and see and hear things that are special. I want to go and experience the other, to get a sense of things beyond myself. I also want to come away thinking about the story and the plot and the music, and not "How fucking stupid was that thing they did in the third act to cover the plot hole they created" which was what I thought when I watched Tannhauser.

*end rant

Aida, mark 1

So, I have just stood through the length of Aida (it's more than 3 hours) and I would do it again if I had the chance. I think that says something about how great it was.

So, before I say anything else, let me just say this. if you have the chance to see Latonia Moore live in Aida, go, do not question the price. Sell something if you have to, but just go. Seriously, she is that good. I really cannot think of anyone singing at the moment who could match Latonia Moore as Aida. I fully expect to find she is identified with the role in the future like Leontyne Price was with it. Yes, she is that good, a singer who other soprani will be measured against in this role. And she is still young.

But anyway, enough gushing and how about I tell you why, right? Well, we are talking a huge voice. Huge, as in sing over the top of the chorus and fellow soloists in the triumphal march scene huge. As in, could take on Turandot in the future if she wanted huge. But, while she has the power to make Ritorna vincitor the potent mix of excitement and horror it should be, the most impressive aria was O Patria mia, with its long floating phrases just hanging beautifully with that gorgeous tone filling the theatre and with stunning crescendi to powerful notes that were both expressive and controlled. Just listen to this La mama morta to get an idea of her voice: 

So, yes, you could say, today's tickets were worth it purely for seeing Latonia do her thing, and do it very well. But she was not the only good thing about today's performance. To be sure, she out sang everyone on stage, but they all held up quite well beside her. As her lover Radames, Rosario LaSpina proved what a fine big voiced tenor he is. To be sure, today was not his best sounding day, but never once did he sound awkward or lost. Rather, his issue today was more a tendency to sound a bit "strangled tenor" not the clear open sound I have heard from him before. Having said that, he still sounded much better than many tenors I have heard live in big roles. It's more that when I know how good he can sound, I get upset when he does not sound that good. But hey, if that was an off day, I would be pretty happy with it. He still got the second biggest applause of the curtain calls, and never once sounded in danger of not hitting the note, or cracked, or went "splat" on a high note, he just did not sound as good as I have heard him. Radames might not be his best role. Listening to him today, I was wondering if he is heading into dramatic tenor territory. There was something of the ugly sound about him that some dramatic tenors get. That sound that is not pretty, but boy is it loud. That was more like what he was sounding like today. And that is not a bad thing for Radames really. Especially when you get the ending right, singing with as much sensitivity as your Aida did (she got THAT note right) in their final death scene.

With today's Amneris, Milijana Nikolic, I started thinking she was going to be sung off the stage physically. Her opening left me wondering what OA were doing casting her in the role. Having said that, by the time of the Nile scene, there was no doubt she belonged on the stage with Latonia and Rosario. Not warmed up enough maybe? I don't know, but by the end, her voice was holding her own against the big guns, working hard at making Amneris a human figure, not just the cruel figurehead of a rejected woman, but a woman who both is used to getting everything she wants, and trying to deal with not getting the one thing she really wants.

Of the others, well, Andrew Brunsdon was a luxury casting Messenger and sang it as beautifully as I would expect him to.

Jud Arthur brought his beautiful bass sound to the King, but sounded way under powered against the others on stage. To be sure, his is a small role and basses that sound this good are not common, but it made me wish for anyone of a number of basses from OperaAustralia's past in the role.

Amonasro was Michael Honeyman, who recently impressed me in Die Tote Stadt, proving again today that this is a voice to watch. I wanted more power from him, but I was more than happy with what I was hearing, I just wanted it to be bigger. Time will fix that of course!

Ramfis was sung by Paul Whelan and I was again wanting a bigger voice. The big bad bass has to be big and bad to really convince, and frankly, Paul did not sound like the big threatening high priest who has the say in much that happens in this opera. Its a role that needs more power to make you believe he is that powerful, and frankly, I felt like he was a boy playing at being the man. Which screams bad casting, to my mind, rather than a bad performance.

I have to say, though, I was not impressed with Arvo Volmer's conducting. Verdi has to be a bit, well, barbaric? You really need to feel those dotted rhythms, and feel the marches in your soul and they lacked the bite they needed. But, having said that, he really got the last 2 acts right. The lyrical beauty of the Nile scene was milked for every ounce of beauty, and the judgement and death scenes were impressive in control. I just wanted that sense of abandon that great Verdi has, and I was not hearing it at all.

On the other hand, I was impressed with Graeme Murphy's direction with limited resources. Obviously OperaAustralia does not have the resources of The Met to mount Aida with masses of chorus and extras. But he has worked well with minimal resources (and the tiny Sydney Opera House stage) to make this a spectacle. The triumphal march scene was cleverly done, with a mix of live figures and cutouts in the parade. The set throughout was based on a steep rake with a ramp that opened at the back at certain points for entries and exits. There was a triangle on the backdrop which was sometimes used to indicate a pyramid, at other times other things. Various "Egyptian" set elements were flown in or brought in from the wings at various times to indicate differing locations with a minimum of fuss. There was also a thin strip of water between the pit and the rest of the stage, which represented the Nile. Its presence the whole time was an interesting reminder of Egypt's dependence on it in the past, as well as used cleverly, especially in the Nile scene. The death scene worked, with a coup de theatre that I did not expect. His staging focused on telling the story, allowing the drama to develop and making us care for the characters. It worked well. There were a few surprising touches, but nothing that stood out as a whoops or what the moment. It was the story, and nothing but the story.

However, while the set was effective and functional, the lighting design was definitely something. While it did not hinder from the story, some of the extra projections of Egyptian symbols did leave me feeling "enough already". Mostly, the lighting worked well to draw attention to the things that matter, sometimes too much so, but then, I do know Aida backwards.  Some of the awkward mass scene moments were helped by lighting tricks, making us focus on those intimate between two character exchanges, not wondering why others don't notice what was said/sung.

However, it does have to be said, while Graeme Murphy is a great opera director for bringing the story to life, he really has a reluctance to let things just be, to let us just focus on the glorious singing. Several times I watched massed movement happen and realised there was no reason for it, apart from trying to avoid a static scene. And, in Aida, you do sort of expect a few static scenes as the masses just let rip and sing. A couple of times I wanted to say, "just stand still and sing" but it was a small price to pay for a performance with standards on the whole, as high as today's were.

But ultimately, it has to be said, Aida ultimately stands and falls on the strengths of the main leads, and today, Opera Australia delivered those, and did it well.

Can we do it again now? (And the answer is, yes, seated, with a different cast in September)

And below, a snippet from Latonia singing at Dallas...

So, Die Tote Stadt.

An opera I have loved since I first saw it on TV one afternoon in the now legendary performance from Strasbourg. And finally I have seen it in the flesh. And I am happy I did.

But, before we start I think we need to get something sorted first. Die Tote Stadt (the dead city) has something in common with another show I saw this year: Company (Sondheim)

They are both shows that stand or fall by whether you care about the lead male. If you cannot care about the lead, be it Paul in DTS or Robert in Company, you will find the performance trying. No matter how good the others, the person at the centre undergoing the transformation has to be someone you care about, or it all falls apart and there is nothing to keep your interest. No matter how much you may enjoy the music, if the character does not interest you, it all ends up a bit hollow.

Now, with DTS, I have to say, this opera is full of gorgeous music. Full of it! It is a lush, melodic mass of beauty that should leave you awash and blissed out, assuming you like late romantic era lushness. And at its heart is a man who has failed to deal with his wife's death. He is living in a house that has become a shrine to her, and failing to build a new life with out her.

Then of course, he meets a young woman who is the image of his dead wife. Of course it all seems to good to be true, and thus it proves to be. But not without lots of gorgeous music, and he comes out of it stronger, once again returning to the land of the living, not the city of the dead.

So, what did I think of this performance? Well, to be honest, while I love this music, I found the problem I referred to above. Our Paul was not someone to care about. Having a Marietta who was more interesting (and frankly, a much better singer) than Paul meant that the person we needed to care about was a blank space, a dead weight the other characters had to carry.

To my mind, as Paul, Stefan Vinke  was far and away the weakest performer in the whole show. While he was the character around whose actions the whole story revolves (and in whose dreams much of it happens), he was not a performer you wanted to be central. Through out the first act, I was worried about how he sounded. His was the voice of someone struggling to handle a role that seemed too big for him, possibly coupled with illness or something similar. I mean, he sang most of the notes, but a lot sounded very ugly, not the beautiful voice that you will need to make people want to care about you. To be honest, his voice did settle in the second act, sounding less strangled and more confident, but I was still hearing hoarseness, making me wonder if he was tired or ill, or else having some other problem that should be investigated. I mean, I am not saying he sounds like Kim Carnes or anything, but there is to my ear, something worrying in his sound, that suggests vocal health issues. It also does not help that his is a muscular style of voice, with harsh metal sounds, not the beautiful big lyric-esque sounds that we dream of hearing in this sort of music.

As to his Marie/Marietta, well Cheryl Barker surprised me. To be honest, I have never really understood her appeal. The only times I have heard her live I felt she sounded too small for the roles she was singing. But as Marietta, she certainly had voice to spare. Her bright tones suited this role amazingly. She certainly sang Vinke off the stage! She is also a good enough dancer to get away with portraying a dancer on stage. Im not saying that she danced lots, or anything difficult, but she did enough to make it believable, which is all we could hope for. Frankly, I think we would have been better served if Marietta was the focus of the opera not Paul with this cast.

As Paul's housekeeper, Deborah Humble was a standout. She took the small role of the housekeeper and made it special. Hers is definitely a voice I will be looking for in the future.

As for Marietta's theatrical colleagues, I only need to say that silver people rule. Jose Carbo proved a great Peirrot, singing his aria with clarity and beauty of tone, even if a little bit too Italianate in sound. His fellow silver people either sang or danced beautifully, giving that sense of an performing troupe a bit out of touch with reality quite brilliantly. Their scene in act 2 had a life all of its own, a total contrast to the depression of Paul through out the rest. As it should.

As Frank, Paul's friend, Michael Honeyman did his best to make a blank canvas into a real person, but the role is one of those roles whose main purpose is to be part of a conversation, not to take on a life of their own.

This production was mostly very traditional. The staging was designed paying attention to the script, and nothing was too jarring. Of course, there was also little that was memorable, besides the costumes of the silver people and Marietta. Even Frank was dressed in a fairly somber fashion. There was extensive use of projections throughout the opera, some of which worked, some which didn't.  I really did not like the roses on the scrim, or the light at the end. Surely there is some better way of indicating his decision than the cliche of walking towards the light?

But of course, no production of this opera can really escape that this is an opera whose first act is always going to be difficult. You have to be made to care about Paul from the start, or it just feels like so much wankery. Wankery set to beautiful music sure, but still wankery. At the first interval, one of my two opera going companions left because he could not see the point, the other was tempted to as well, but was glad to have stayed by the end of the second act. And, to be honest, I could see their point. I knew that there was much still to admire in Korngold's score, so there was no way I would leave before the end. And I was glad I did. I left, feeling both blessed out by the music, yet frustrated by the performance of Paul and our lack of concern at his plight. Yes, it is a hard role, but there are many others who can do it justice. In my dreams I hope for Andrew Richards or Stuart Skelton, but, I expect that I will not see this production mounted again in Sydney. Then again, I never expected to see it in Australia at all, so...

On seeing a friend do her show for the first time...

So, on the weekend, I got to see a friend of mine perform her show for the first time. And yes, I realise that sounds like a bit of a brag, but, yes, it is true.  I have long known she was a singer, both teaching at a school, and performing. Most of what she gets to do is entertaining kids via her YellowKat routine, but she does also write and sing songs from an adult point of view. And they are all highly personal, dare one say, therapeutic songs.

Now I have to say, before anything else, how wonderful it is to hear a singer whose words you can actually hear, because their diction is so clear. The fact that I hardly knew any of her songs did not matter, because she is such a vivid performer. She brought her songs to life with the passion that inspired them to be written in the first place.

And, as a singing teacher, she knows how to use her voice to bring things to life, without putting her voice under massive strain, so the last song came through clear, just like the first did. And those songs told stories, of her concerns for her son, of how some people annoyed the hell out of her, of her troubles with the house she and her husband bought.

I will also state for the record, that her music style is not really my kettle of fish per se. I mean, my love of opera and other classical music is hardly a secret here. But, considering it was a pop concert, the fact that I did enjoy it, says a lot about the skills of the performer.

And really, I could try to describe why I liked it, but really, just know it was good. Very good. You too can sample how good. She is performing again 7th July at Mars Hill Cafe in Parramatta. Or, you can try/buy her music via Bandcamp here 

I might also add, she is one of those people who deserve to be much more popular than she is. Trust me on this.

Yes, I saw Helen Perris and I enjoyed it. I may start buying friends her EP, for birthday gifts, just because...

Thoughts that arose after seeing "Wagner's Dream"

Ok, so I have now seen "Wagner's dream" - the documentary to pull more money for the Met. Sorry, raise the profile of The Met's Ring cycle. That was a bit cynical wasn't it? It's actually worth seeing if you went to the Ring operas from this new production, either at the opera, or at The Met itself. And yes, I am glad I saw it.

But, for me, what was most telling is what was not covered. Yes, I get that the machine, and the staging was the big deal about this new production. And, to be sure, this is probably what most people were interested in, but, really, that is only one part of what goes into making a production like this.

Where was the sections of the orchestra rehearsing with James Levine, before he had to leave for health reasons? Or him working with some of the singers? Or, how about some stuff of Debbie Voigt working on learning the words and music of what is a humungous role, which she had never learnt before? I mean, even the preparation of some individual scenes, which were shown, in every case focused on the interaction of the characters and the machine, not even once did I hear a performer talk about motivations or "how do you want me to play this scene?"

Of course, I do know why none of this featured.

This was a production by a director, who while known for innovation, is not exactly known for depth. This is not a production to make people discuss what was meant, or why someone did what, it was opera as spectacle, as a literal reading, utilising technology to bring things to life that have always been essentially unstageable.

My spies, who include people who sang in the show, inform me that they did not have much in the way of interaction with Robert LePage. Most of the blocking, that is, the building up of how the characters move around and interact was worked out with assistants. LePage was more focussed (dare I say, obsessed?) with his monster of a set, and all its technical challenges.

Yet ultimately, what matters with any opera, in the end, is the music, the characters and the performances. Do we believe in them as individuals enough to care what happens? Are the musical values strong enough to make us care? And, is the music working to strengthen the performances, or do those actually work against the music being sung?

And to be honest, having seen this production in cinema, and now having seen the documentary, I am truly convinced that what worked owed most to Richard Wagner, then to James Levine and his musical staff, then the performers and finally to Robert LePage's organisation. This, for all its marketing as an innovative production, was really at its heart a very traditional telling of the story. Yes, the set was unusual, and used in interesting ways, but that does not detract from the fact, this is a very traditional Ring.

And I say that, not meaning it in a bad way. This is a Ring cycle to show to people who do not "get" Wagner. It presents the operas in a way that is clear, does not clutter the stories with unnecessary details and is performed by people who mostly are at the top of their careers. There are a couple of smaller performers who, in the performances screened in cinemas, seemed outclassed, but they were minor roles, compared to most.

But, Wagner is expected to offer more. As a writer, he was concerned much more with the meaning of the tale, than just the tale itself. Normally, in modern productions, you come away with a sense of what the director thought the operas were about. You gain a sense of what his or her pet theories are, or his choice of things to fetishise. With this production, you only get opera as spectacle and storytelling. Which, while enjoyable, does leave you wondering, "is that it?" I think for the length of time we commit, we (and Wagner) should expect more.

A Rant

Extreme frustration…

That is all I can say about what has just happened. Apart from the fact that I am distraught beyond words. Upset. Needing to cry and rant for days.

And it is all happening, because an invoice that should have been paid months ago sat on someone's too hard pile. Meanwhile, we sat and wondered why it was taking so long to pay. When The Gorgeous One was able to break free of regular day job induced deadline hell and family stress to find out, butts were kicked and numerous apologies issued, but the damage was done. We now had to restart the approval process for payment all over again. And being a Govt organisation that is funded by multiple areas of government, that takes time. You would think two weeks would be enough, but no.

So, instead, we have to sit back, rant and rave and wait for this money to come through. In the meantime, we watch our tickets to The Met's Ring cycle go to waste. Tickets we organised back in September last year. Our plans to do a range of things, fall apart. Our chance to meet people who have been responsible for keeping me sane through some very black days, gone. You begin to see why I am upset.

So, what am I missing you ask? Well, this:




Has that whetted your appetite for more? Try here:  This is the official video for the full cycle


So, instead, we are waiting to hear when we do get this payment through, then trying to work out what we can do. Needless to say, this is not a good time to be in our household right now.


If we appear a little distracted, upset or aggro, you at least know why, and hopefully will be sympathetic. Right now though, I think I will go have another cry. You might want to turn away.

And yes, this might seem a little melodramatic to some of you. But, this was going to be our first real holiday together, that was not for family reasons. This holiday has also already cost me several jobs, because they wanted someone who could start straight away. It has been the one thing I had been looking forward to, while I was out of work. Now that has gone too. I think I am entitled to be upset.