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.

Carmen as spectacle

This video shows Rinat Shaham from the OperaAustralia mainstage poduction, a production full of "authentic" Spanish flavours, with flamenco dancing and period touches. Last night's rehearsal I attended showcased the same marvellous singer as Carmen, but much of the rest was very different.

First of all, I have to say, beforehand, I was wondering was it fair to even review a dress rehearsal, even if it was the last before opening night. Well, by the time of interval, I had no doubt it was appropriate. The only things I had found to complain about was some of the audio levels as they worked to adjust the sound levels for various singers, and some curiously non-choral sounding chorus work, which sounded like only some singers' microphones were working. That appeared to be less noticeable by the end, so it may have been just some were not turned on, or similar. Minor teething pains tho, for what was a great performance.

So, as you can see, great seats for a big show.  And, yes, there was lots of colour and movement. The full chorus of Opera Australia, a large group of dancers, and supernumeries besides. And yes, the Carmen at the back of the set is backwards, precisely to declare to the outside world what is going on. We in the audience all know its Carmen. You can probably make out some of the outline of the bull that gets lit up in the last act. What is not so obvious is the fact that the back of the stage is effectively a scaffolding, that is used to good effect at times, especially at the bullfight, as people crowd it, looking into the (unseen) arena that is beyond. Also, the 2 cranes on either side that are used to fly in several set pieces, (a tank, a truck, a shipping container, and even, a cast member)

There are numerous places at the back of the stage to exit, and there is a large ramp that descends from the centre of backstage at various times, to represent the entry to the cigarette factory, and the entrance to the bullfight arena. Not to mention, of course, you can also enter and exit via the walkway that extends to the front on either side. The orchestra are located under the stage, and are not seen until the end, when they come up for air, err, come up for their bows.

So, Gale Edwards has put together a production that plays to a non opera experienced crowd. There is (as mentioned) lots of colour and movement, and the story is played out with broad strokes, going for a literal telling, even if the costuming and staging make it clear we are talking Carmen set in the 1950's, not the 1830 of the novella by Merimée. Working with the designers Brian Thompson and Julie Lynch, an image of Spain has been created, albeit one that is definitely viewed through French eyes, as both Bizet's music and the original French novella were.

And what glorious music it is. The habanera, the seguidilla, the flower song, the smuggler's quintet, the card trio, the toreador's song, Michaela's aria, the grand chorus scene that opens the final act. This is an opera that everyone knows the big numbers from, and they were all delivered brilliantly. Under Brian Castles-Onion, the music was well served with that Gallic-Spanish mix we all know so well. Yes, some of the first act lacked some cohesiveness in a few spots, not helped by the mic issues mentioned before, but that was cleaned up before the next act.

 And the singers you say? Well, funny you should mention that. As per the video above, we had the stunning Carmen specialist Rinat Shaham in the lead. As expected, her earthy toned mezzo was used to great expressive effect, giving a performance that was by turns devil may care, vengeful, spiteful, coy, seductive, all those things that make a great Carmen. Yes, some of the tonal variations may have been lost, and some of the subtleties of her performance, but,  singing mic'd also gave her a lot more freedom of expression, allowing a broader range to be painted, rather than a more focused one.

As her lover Don Jose, Dmytro Popov brought a glorious tenor voice to the role. To be honest, I am not sure this is a voice that is ready to sing Don Jose in a normal production, but amplified, without having to force his voice over the orchestra, he brought a beautiful sweet tone to the role. Normally a role sung by dramatic tenors, he made a good case for a more lyrical voice to sing the role. He certainly did not lack dramatically, but this was a voice for melting hearts, not a voice to make you fear.  Having said that, there was no doubting the passion he sang of, or his desperation as he realised Carmen was never his.

Here he is singing Che gelida manina from La Boheme. Its a glorious voice, but not what you would expect for Don Jose, but, strangely, it worked.

As Michaela, we had the lovely Nicole Carr, bringing her lyric goodness and determination to the role. I also have to give her full points for singing her big act 3 aria, perched high in the air. I would not have felt comfortable up there, let alone sing one of the bigger arias in my repertoire on my knees, while up there. But, she did, and did it convincingly. She brought that moment of calm in the storm of emotions convincingly, our one touch of normality.

And that leaves Escamillo, sung by Andrew Jones, to bring up the rear of the big four leads. This role forever will be associated with Robert Merril for me, so needless to say, it is hard to find a singer who can do it justice today to my ears. That said, he was not bad, just its hard to find a Robert Merril! Escamillo arrived via a car driven to the stage front, with full movie star treatment. It really captured the feel of the adored toreador, bringing it to life in a way the audience can relate. It was both effective and entertaining.

Of course, there were also the other four gypsies who all sang their fiercely difficult quintet with Carmen, tossing out the masses of words as if they were the easiest thing in the world, not a nightmare of timing and precision. All four sang with great diction, bringing them to us as larger than life figures, used to hiding in shadows.

So, to sum up? A lavish night's entertainment, sung very well, and brought to life vividly. No, it won't change the world, but it might change the way some people think about opera. And for me, that sounds pretty fantastic!

 Rinat singing the Seguidilla in a production in Israel (with Neil Shicoff as Don Jose)

4 fantastic singers? 5 pretty good ones

So Il Trovatore, that opera where we have to believe that a mother threw the wrong baby in the fire, and then raised her enemy's son to destroy his biological brother. Well, yes, it is an opera, so there is always a certain amount of disbelief required, but, that's opera for you.

First of all, I have to say, this was a surprisingly even cast. There were no stand out bad performers the whole night. That also means of course, there were no stunningly good ones either (like Monserrat Caballe at the top) . Instead, we had a night of well sung, well acted, if not always thrilling opera.

This production was the Elke Neidhardt production that is shared between the various state opera companies here. It resets the opera to the Spanish Civil war, but never really tells you which side who is on. All you know (indeed, all you really need to know) is that Di Luna and Manrico are on opposite sides.) The sets consist of a series of grey walls that get rearranged from time to time. They all show signs of war damage, and get moved to indicate changes of location for each scene. They worked very effectively, especially coupled with the very effective moody lighting.

There were no obvious "regietheatre moments" that made you scream "what the?" but a mostly sensibly directed opera, that focused on telling the story clearly. Ok, so maybe the moment of gratuitous total male nudity with the arrival of the new recruits was not necessary, but it did lighten up the scene (and the supers were very pretty)

Now, to the performers, because, as is mythologised, this opera stands or falls on the four leads (I would argue five, but hey, who says singers can count?)

First off, when you get a notice on your seat that a singer has been swapped for health reasons, you normally sigh a little. Well, when I heard the Ruiz was swapped (admittedly a small role) I was quite pleased. My previous experience of the singer in question left me wondering why he had been cast. Instead, we had Sam Roberts-Smith, who I hope we hear a lot more of. As Ruiz, he sang only a little, but left us wanting to hear more, and liking what we heard. Why the other singer was cast in the first place still leaves me scratching my head, knowing his replacement was available at the time...

Now, frankly, Daria Masiero is no Monserrat Caballe (or for that matter, Angela Meade, or Latonia Moore) but she is a fine singer with a big voluptuous voice of the type needed. To be sure, I would prefer one both larger, prettier and better controlled, but we are talking dream casting vs affordable casting. For a company that cannot afford the A list singers, Daria is pretty good. No fluffed notes, nice even sound and plenty of power to bring to those exciting climaxes Verdi gives. To be sure, she does not sound as in control of her voice as Latonia Moore (or Angela Meade, who I have only heard via recordings) but there was nothing wrong with what she did. We are talking degrees, more the difference between something I consider acceptable, to something truly glorious. She was workmanlike would be my comment.

Likewise, Arnold Rawls. As the evening progressed, his voice definitely eased into the role, sounding less tight. Sometimes he sounded  not entirely comfortable in the role in the first act. But by the second act he was sounding truly heroic, his C on "Di quell piera" was something to behold, if a touch OTT for the purists. I say, if you have it like that, use it!!!!

The surprise of the evening for me was Michael Honeyman as the Count di Luna. This was the fourth time i have heard him recently, so you can understand why I was shocked when I heard him. I have always liked his voice, but I long to hear the voice that he has yet to become, instead of the smaller sound we have been getting. Well, somewhere between last year and this production, he has found that big sound. WOW! Suddenly, its like he had a big break through in vocal technique and the sound is much fuller, richer and just plain bigger. Im really looking forward to hearing what happens in the future now.

Our bass for the evening was of course, the reliable Richard Anderson as Ferrando. Quite why the captain of the guards became a priest in this production, I am not sure, but it did not detract too much from the story. Indeed, it only occurred to me later that he is not normally a priest. Too many Italian operas have priests that do everything they shouldn't I guess..

And finally, we had Milijana Nikolic as Azucena, the mother who threw her son on the fire by mistake, intending to throw the Count's brother. Previously, I have not been that impressed by her. This time I was convinced. Her Strida la vampa and the scene following with Manrico were stunning. In many respects that scene became the emotional centre of the opera in this performance.

And of course, as usual, the chorus sang well, swapping frequently from being soldiers to freedom fighters and back again.Im sure there was lots of men changing back stage in the wings…

So I will leave you with our tenor. Not perfect, but pretty damn good, and certainly worth paying for.

Thoughts post Trojans from The Met

Right, yes, I know the above link is not from Les Troyens from the Met but is from the Covent Garden production by David McVicar with Anna Caterina Antonacci, but such is the strength of her performance in Trojans, that any discussion about another production inevitably has to reference her, so I thought I would throw it in at the start. This is the finale of Act 2, the final scene in Troy before the opera moves to Carthage with Enée and his entourage, en route to Italy. It is without a doubt the most glorious mass suicide scene I know in opera, and ACA in the role of Cassandre is intensely haunting and musical. She lives the role of a somewhat maddened oracle, not wanting to see what she is seeing, and haunted by it. Her performance was mesmerising and gripping, as well as being beautifully sung. Friends who went reported being haunted by her for days after.

By contrast, the Met had Debbie Voigt, a very different singer. While ACA is very definitely zwischenfach, Debbie is defiantly dramatic soprano. She lacks the darkness of tone that ACA brings, and frankly needs in this role. She also reportedly found the lower range of it a challenge in some of the earlier performances. This I would believe. Having said that, Francesca Zambello's production also makes Cassandre a very different beast to McVicar. In McVicar, she revels in the oddness of being prophetic, even as the visions she sees frighten her. She is shunned only because she brings bad news, not because she is odd. In the Met, she is cast in the weird woman/witch/evil keep away mode, even though she seems eager to lose the visions. It is more her being prophetic despite wanting it, rather than clearly revelling in the role, as in the McVicar.

Its a valid choice, but the McVicar provides the more exciting performance. Yes, ACA is a better actress, but I think it is also the direction made it work. Having Deb Voigt run round the stage trying to get people's attention, only to have them all run away in fear made her seem less a figure we cared about, while ACA was defiant in her isolation, and seemed to almost revel in it, when people would not listen. A curious distinction, but one that helps to explain why one was vastly more compelling. It seemed more organic to the story, and less an idea imposed from the director, if you will.

Having said that, if I had not seen the Covent Garden production first, I would have been very happy with Deb's performance. She sang securely, with depth and feeling. This is a demanding role, and a big one, and she was convincing, just left me wishing I had seen her first, not second. On the other hand, if I had seen this production first, would I have bothered with the Covent Garden as well?

As her fiance, we had Dwayne Croft, who brought a larger voice to the role than I gave him credit from his stint in Das Rheingold as Donner. He sang as a man who clearly did not understand his wife to be. At times I was not convinced he was in love with her, rather, this felt more like an arranged marriage, yet they sang of love...

The other performer of note in the Trojan acts was of course Bryan Hymel, the surprise tenor of the Covent Garden Trojans, who replaced the ill Jonas Kaufmann. Here, he took over for Marcello Giordani, who pulled out, realising this role was no longer right for him (was it ever?) Bryan brings a huge bright tenor sound with clarion focus to this role. All I think I need to say about him is, if he is singing a big tenor role near you, make sure you go hear him. Hell, for that matter, you could probably hear him from outside most theatres, that voice has cut and heft to carry for days. And he can sing this role easily at 33!!!! (Enée normally goes to Wagnerians) Enée is a role that is already something of a specialty for him, and will remain so. He lives this role, singing it with passion and power, and also lyricism as required.

Having said that, special mention must be made of the chorus in this production. When the Met puts on their full chorus, with extras, you know the show must need it. There was (I believe) about 110 in the chorus for this production. It showed, and they sounded fantastic. They sang beautifully off and on stage, and portrayed their various roles well, be they soldier, sailor, farmer, wife, whatever.

After Troy, the next acts all move to Carthage where the beautiful Didon rules over a happy peaceful community founded after they fled from Phoenicia at the death of her husband. As Didon we had the glorious sounds of Susan Graham, with her sister played by Karen Cargill, one of the few none US based singers. As a pair, they were well matched, both big luscious voices and strong stage presences. Having said that, watching Karen Cargill is an entertaining experience all in itself. Unlike most singers, who when they sing the effort shows on their face, on Karen's face, there is no sign of the effort she is putting in to produce the sound. Sure, her mouth stretches open as she shapes the sounds, but her cheeks and eyes show no sign of the effort she is doing. There is an almost serene relaxation happening when she sings, allowing her to express what ever she wants, unencumbered by the effort to achieve the sounds she is producing. At times it seemed almost disconnected, but after seeing some appalling face pulling on stages recently as singers fought to produce the right notes, it was a very welcome change.

As Didon, Susan Graham produced glorious tones and a performance that started distant but approving of her subjects, to passionate lover of Enée, to unhinged wronged woman when she is left. She never once lost character or produced sounds that were not beautiful or musical. She also clearly enjoyed partnering with Bryan as her love interest.

Also featured were Kwangchul Youn as Narbal Didon's chief minister and Eric Cutler as Iopas, her court poet. Both sang well, bringing to life their roles, even if Iopas spends a lot of time onstage, but not singing.

At this point I also need to mention the ballet. Now, it is French grand opera, so I get you need ballet. But really, do we need ALL of it? The ballet in act 4 seems to take over half an hour. You also have ballet music in earlier acts. Surely some of the Royal Hunt music should be dropped to bring the length under control if you are going to do Les Troyen in one night? I mean, it is 5 hours of music, surely we can cut some of it? The ballet does seem an obvious place to shorten, especially if you decide to use it to re-enact some of the story. The whole story comes to a grinding halt for half an hour, then we have some discussion about the 2 lovers, then we get their glorious duet. Did we really need all the ballet to stop the story completely before that?

The next act of course is where everything goes horribly wrong for Didon. Enée abandons her then sings his biggest solo (see below) and after various of his group sing their own solos, he has harsh words with Didon and they sale off leaving her bereft. She then has a complete meltdown on stage and kills herself, prophesying of the coming of Hannibal from Carthage to destroy the city of Rome Enée is off to build.

Now, I have to say that the biggest difference between the two productions I have referred to would be the theatricality of the productions. One was an unashamedly modern mishmash of scenery that clearly represented specific places without caring about the time. It created great effects in a small space and forced you into its own world.

The other was a less showy event but that used more. More people, more space, more levels on stage. Yet rather than making you feel more in place, you felt less a part of the event. Too much was spent on creating the look of something, without actually being that thing. Somehow in not even trying to be historically accurate but socialogically accurate, the Covent Garden worked, while the Met production somehow failed, because it kept paying lip service to what it thought things should look like, without following through on them. So the modern items jarred against the authentic, stopping the illusion taking hold.

So, on the whole, I found the Met production a bit of a blancmange. Much of it was great, but I found things about it that left it feeling less than the some of the whole.

But, I'll leave you with Bryan singing his big aria in the final act, which is amazing.

A tale of two outings to the cinema

Right, I should have blogged about Les Mis last weekend, but it did not happen, so now, I will try to combine it with Un Ballo in Maschera in a Live at The Med in HD screening. Yes, I know that sounds an odd combination, but there is a reason.

One of these productions was full of gorgeous singing (almost uniformly well cast) set in a totally unbelievable setting, that only sort of worked, and, frankly removed the action about one level. The other was cast based on the fame of certain performers, not their vocal abilities, yet told the story much more effectively, with realistic performances that broke your heart.

So, first of all, Ballo. Apart from one person, I uniformly loved the singing in this production. Well cast voices, who brought their roles to life with passionate performances, mostly at, or close to, their peak of their careers. As you would expect at The Met (but often don't get) these were all luxury casting. Dmitri Hvorostovsky, the Siberian smoulderer, bringing his formidable talents to Renato, and Marcelo Alvarez as Riccardo, both convincing in their vocal performance, and well cast. Freaking Stephanie Blythe as Ulrica, the fortune teller, who comes on and dominates the whole cast for one scene, then never comes back. Yes, it is an important scene, but, wow, talk about luxury casting!!  Also fine was Kathleen Kim, bringing her schtick of coloratura and crazy to a role that is always a bit annoying. Yes, she sang it well, but some of the directing choices with her characters were rather odd. There were times when she should not have been overhearing things that she was clearly involved in. Remember to focus on the story you are telling guys.

Which leaves Sondra Radvanovsky. Well, lets say she has a big voice. And when she is not singing, she looks every inch the Countess she is here. But, please, someone send her to a good singing teacher. If you are singing at this level, you should not take till after you have sung your big solo scena in the second act to really start producing pleasant sounds. And frankly, even then it was more a relief that it sounded better, rather than this is sounding good. I suspect it is to do with how she is singing and the unnecessary tension she is creating, because she is constantly producing facial expressions that do not relate to what her character is singing. It sounds to me, like she needs to learn to stop trying, and learn to let the voice be. Then again, what do I know? I am just a amateur who watches these things, and have not sung in anger (or otherwise) for ages.

It has to be said tho, this is a production for those that like things frenetic. At times there was movement for the sake of movement, at other times it made sense. All the scenes were set on a steep rake within a deliberately not square space, with every feature bar the floor moved at times. It worked, but not as well as it could have. The sets were all very bare, with only the props needed or mentioned in the libretto appearing. So, rooms would only have one chair in them, then others would be brought in by the chorus and taken out again..

To be honest, I was not convinced as a work of theatre. Yes, it was theatrical, but as a piece of storytelling, it failed dismally. You had great singers trying to throw there all in, and you found it hard to care for them, simply because there was nothing remotely believable about it. Most of the time it had almost a dreamlike quality to it, but not in a way that worked with the story. In the hands of a skilled director who knew how to milk emotion, the ending would be tragic and bring on all the emotions. Here? We wanted to care, but were left with a bunch of spoiled kids who were caught out playing up. Which is a shame.

Because if there was one thing that Les Mis does well as a movie, is bring all the emotions. The battle scenes will make you cry in Les Mis, because the characters have been brought to life. The students all spring forth larger than life (and most of them sung really well) demanding you respond. And you do too, with Jean Valjean at the end, because he has been made human.

But, Les Mis is a singer's musical, a story driven romp that relies on good singing and humanising of a huge bunch of characters as a tale of redemption of two men plays out over the years. Ultimately, this story was not as effective as it could have been. Who ever thought Russell Crowe would make a good Javert has clearly never sat through a good production of this in the theatre. It is a big long sing, and it only works if you believe him in his big numbers. If they do not let you get inside his head and understand him, you have failed. Miserably. Javert needs to be seen as a rule bound do gooder who actually thinks he is doing the right thing chasing Valjean down, till he finally realises that Valjean has done his time, and that he has lived a good life, AND brought good into the world through others. Compared to others, Crowe is a wooden log, and his singing was, well, I guess calling it singing is polite.

So, you have one half of a morality tale that fails. Does the other half work? Yes, absolutely. You get a sense of what goes on inside Valjean's head. You see him reduced to nearly human by the justice system, then given another chance by the Bishop, then rebuild his life. His rescue of Fantine worked to convince that he now knew he had to do what he could to undo any mistakes he made. So much more expression came across his face, and in his voice, even though the role is wrong vocally for him. (I personally would have rather have seen him as Javert, it would have been a much better movie)

The other roles? Well, I wanted the Enjolras to play Marius. Much better voice, much nicer screen presence. But not a star. Then again, Marius is a drip, so it really doesn't matter, does it? Eponine was great. She sang out, and played the lovelorn to the hilt. Altho, usually, the suggestion is she has been sleeping with him, which never came across in this. A conscious decision to play to the prudes perhaps?

Cosette, as sung by Amanda Seyfried, well, she is pretty and sweet, which really, is all she is expected to be. Her one moment of spunk and rebellion is to fall in love with a man after seeing him twice. And they are supposed to build a happy life together…

Fantine? Well, Ann Hathaway brings ALL THE FEELINGS. Yes, she brings them in capitals. There is nothing subtle about her role. Then again, it is not meant to be. Her death tho, is moving and provides ample motivation for much that follows.

Which leaves the Thenardiers, played by Pirellli and Mrs Lovett, err, Sascha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonhom Carter. To be honest, they did not work for me. They were portrayed as fleecing every single customer who came in, to the point of ridicule, rather than a little bit here, a little bit there. It went from being funny to being grotesque, and lacking in humour and humanity. And neither really are known for their singing…

So, if you have never seen a good Les Mis in the theatre, this is a good introduction to it. If you have, give it a miss unless you want a good cry. There is nothing uniquely special about it, other than the fact of seeing distress writ large across the screen. This production does play up the poverty and disease and general lack of care for the poor, in ways that most productions cannot. That is probably the only thing that it does better than most productions can.

As for Ballo? Well, I would have liked to have seen it live in the theatre, not on a screen. I might have changed my mind about some of the things if I saw it live, but I doubt it. However, will I go see it here at OperaAustralia? Maybe. Its a production prepared by a company noted for putting their own stamp on things in ways that do not always help bring the story to life. This is a story that needs to be treated seriously to work. And with the casting budget at Opera Australia? Well, we won't have these singers that is for sure!

Newtown sadness

There are times when there are no words. There are times when we cannot begin to understand what goes on in someone's mind, what makes them do something so unthinkable.

But, one thing I do know. Now is exactly the time when gun control must be tackled. Now, while you have the grief and horror real in people's minds, while we all remember just how horrific it is. Yes, it is painful, and yes it will be messy. But America, if you want to be taken seriously as the world's policeman, as you often want to, you have to start by policing your own people effectively. And that means, start by getting serious about guns. Guns kill people. That is their point. You want to stop these massacres happening? Stop selling guns designed to kill large numbers of people. Its quite simple really.

I personally am not affected by the losses felt by those in Connecticut, but my heart bleeds for all those who are. Anytime we kill the young, we lessen ourselves as a people.

I will leave a link to some research on the Australian experience here. (One of the few things that John Howard did as PM that I actually respect him for)





After that, its time for more nice music….

Gambler's ruin

Well, Queen of Spades is certainly a great ride. Especially when you have a cast like this. I mean, Ghermann in the hands of Stuart Skelton? Andrei Bondarenko as Yeletsky? Dina Kurznetsova as Lisa, Deborah Humble as Pauline (and Milovszor) and Jose Carbó as Tomsky (and Zlatogor). Not to mention Irina Tchistjakova as the Countess.

All of these singers were truly outstanding in their roles. Big voices taking on big roles, and relishing being on stage with the full Sydney Symphony Orchestra in full flight under the baton of Vladimir Ashkenazy, with the Sydney Philharmonia Choirs fabulously providing the chorus (and a handful of minor roles) If you love lush romantic opera, then this was a night to remember.

And yet, it was, in some ways, not as fulfilling as if it had been staged. Granted, being able to see who is singing what when, makes it much easier to follow the story and understand what is going on, compared to listening on CD or the radio, but nothing matches the emotional impact of seeing something like this, with this sort of cast, fully staged. And I can't see that happening in a long time, which is a big pity. The emotional devastation of the triple deaths of this opera did not come remotely close to the shock/horror/awe/amazement/numbness that I felt at the end of Lucia this year. Yes I was exhilarated, but not "bludgeoned into insensibility" as I would expect I would have been, if I saw this in the theatre. There is only so much emotional response you can get from singers standing in evening dress and singing from book (or not, in the case of our Russian cast) 

But, why was it so good, regardless? Well, quite frankly the cast, and the conductor. Ashkenazy may not be the most precise conductor, but he knows how to wring out emotion and atmosphere, and colour from an orchestra. Yes, there were places where the ensemble was a bit ragged (mostly, it must be said, from the orchestra) but they were working clearly to bring out the effects wanted. And they were restricted to only a couple of places (that I noticed). What was more problematic for me was that our seats seemed to be in direct firing line of the trombones (despite being well back in the hall) so that when they fired up, we heard them then we heard everything else underneath them.

And the cast. Stuart Skelton in the role of Ghermann, bringing his Wagnerian stamina to a role that needs a similar voice to the big Wagner tenor roles. Its long (almost 3 hours) and he sings in every scene, most as the dominant figure. His is a big, bright, pingy sound, the sort that you long to hear sing Walter von Stolzing, rather than Siegfried. Here, he cut through the heavy orchestration (excepting the occasional trombone problem mentioned earlier) with ease. Perhaps not sounding as ease as he has when I have heard him in German or English, but this was (I believe) his first outing as Ghermann. As such, this was truly impressive. I look forward to hearing him growing into this role more in the future.

Andrei Bondarenko, who last year shot to fame in the Cardiff Singer of the World competition, winning the Song Prize, was an impressive Yeletsky, Lisa's fiancé at the start of the opera. Here he showed that his prize was no once off, this is a baritone with a huge voice (it seemed the biggest where I sat) of great beauty. His singing was probably my personal highlight in a very impressive night, but I could be showing my baritone prejudices too. He sang without score, and left me wanting to hear him sing more. I suspect all the big Russian baritone roles lie ahead, as well as the great Verdi baritone roles, which he will sing with ease.

Also truly impressive was Deborah Humble, who I heard earlier in the year in Die Tote Stadt, and thought this is a voice to watch. Well, judging by this performance, I want to hear her sing a lot of Russian music, her voice seemed to revel in it. Where as the German of Korngold's music was more an impressive display of pleasing sound, this was an outpouring of emotion, wrapped up in an aural rich melted chocolate, rich, thick and very enjoyable. It almost made me wish that her role as Pauline was bigger, but, she did get great music to sing as Pauline and in the "pastoral" in the second act.

Dina Kuznetsova as Lisa? Well, I loved her voice, but at times I wished her top notes were freer, sounding a little tight at times. Not badly, but enough that I wished for say, Dame Kiri's top notes, sitting on the top of her beautiful rich midrange. Make no mistake, this is a big beautiful voice, with enormous power, but a couple of times I was wishing for secure floated high notes as needed, but they came out tight. Having said that, Lisa is a huge role, and this was a performance of many strengths, and emotional depth, mostly sung from memory, and with a clear sense of the character she was playing.

Our Countess, to be honest was not really old enough. Would anyone want to hear an 80 year old singing this role though? Regardless off looking far too young, Irina Tchistjakova was a convincing older woman vocally. She portrayed someone no longer wanting to live and yet hanging on, making life for others miserable successfully. Again, we had the Russian singer off book (well, she has sung it before, no doubt many times) And yes, again, a singer with the voice to carry off this role, not just an older performer with the acting skills to pull it off. (although she was probably the oldest lead)

As Tomsky, Jose Carbó once again proves himself far more versatile than people expect. As Tomsky, the Countess's grandson* and Ghermann's friend, he tells the tale that sets off the obsession to find the secret, in a voice that, while sounding a little underwhelmed beside that of our Yeletsky's, was certainly not small. His scene in the pastoral, and his aria in the final scene were proof we should be hearing much more of him in Russian. Onyegin perhaps Opera Australia?

Of the other minor roles, none stood out as bad, or particularly miscast. My biggest gripe with the minor roles was simply that all of them would have benefited from having someone work with them to bring out more characterisation on stage. They sounded fine, but watching four performers who sing of interactions with each other, while standing behind music stands is a bit, well, odd. That most of them were younger singers with less experience meant that some coaching would have made a big difference.

Having said that, if a lack of action on stage in a classical concert is the worst thing you can say about someone, I think you can say they did well.. In fact it is safe to say everyone on stage was pretty damn amazing. And for that, I thank them, and the Sydney Symphony for setting up the concert.

By the way, here is Bondarenko singing Prince Yeletsky's big aria. (After singing Don Giovanni's champagne aria) Its the best thing I could find of him, but does not begin to capture the sheer volume of luscious sound he produces.

(This performance can be heard on Sunday 9/12/12  at 7pm on ABC Classic fm, via their website (here) - that is Australian Eastern Daylight Savings Time, if you are overseas)







*Pushkin refers to Tomsky as the Countess's grandson, its not mentioned in the opera. Where as Lisa is her grand daughter in the opera, and an orphaned ward in the story.

Adés' The Tempest

Well, that was a ride and a half.

Seriously, this is one of those operas that takes you, immerses you in its world, and when you come out to the day to day world, you are left thinking, can I go back? That world is much more vital and alive. Not that I would mind you, its just that this is the power of this work, the music, the staging and the performers come together in a complete whole that leaves the natural world seem dull in comparison. Then again, this does seem appropriate for a story with such fantastical elements in it. A storm that is conjured up to wreck a boat and shipwreck the Neapolitan Court on the very island that the man who was deposed by them lives with his daughter? From round one, the story asks you to suspend disbelief. And that does not let up until the end. The fact that we do, says all you need to know about this production. It really does work from go to wow, leaving you feeling you have seen Something Special.

But why? Well, I suspect the music has a lot to do with it. Thomas Adés's music is every thing you could hope for. It ranges from the ferocious for the storm at the start, to just plain gorgeous when the lovers unit, with lyrical, singable lines throughout, unless you are of course Ariel, but more about that later. The music also totally reflects the characters too. The young lovers get beautiful long lines to convey their feelings, Prospero and the other leading court figures tend to be exclamatory, as people used to getting their own way. The chorus tend to spend their time setting mood, not getting big sings, but singing snippets of text that convey how they are feeling.

Oh yes, the text. This was the only weak point in the whole show. Seriously, so many freaking rhyming couplets? Was that REALLY necessary? I mean, I get that having a libretto in verse would make setting it easier for some composers, bringing out an innate music to the language. And, that, Adés has achieved in spades, but, do we really need the continuous rhymes? I suspect if I was not paying attention to them with the subtitles, I would not have noticed, but with some characters it was needed (e.g. Ariel), while others it was not.

Speaking of which, the performers. Really, there were no week links here. (as you would hope with The Met) If all operas were as well cast as this was, I would be a very happy boy. But they are not, so I am going to single out a handful.

First of all, there is no escaping the magisterial performance of Simon Keenleyside as Prospero. He strides the stage overseeing all the action, when he is not taking part in it. Frequently he can not be seen by the performers, but only by the audience, but he makes it work. This is a performance that would make him a star, if he was not already. The man cannot sing a note wrong in this. Then again, it was written with him in mind. It needs a singer who can act without singing, while still being able to sing up a storm on demand. The only person I have heard live I would trust in it would be Teddy Tahu Rhodes, purely because he is that sort of stage animal.

As for Ariel the spirit, well, Audrey Luna is something freaky, in a good way. The writing for the role reflects that Ariel is a creature of the air. Written for a coloratura, this role sends the singer way into the stratosphere vocally, and well beyond what would normally be considered usable. This helps to create the idea of Ariel as not of the normal world. Her line is frequently spiky, reflecting the fact that while she is controlled by Prospero, she is a character who exists beyond that also, and chafes against the restrictions, and longs to be free. It works very well.

On the other hand, Caliban, the other "other than human character" is much more earthbound. His music is more lyrical and human, yet he is clearly not. As played by Alan Oke, he is a tortured creature longing to regain his birthright, as ruler of the island. He also longs to marry Miranda, but when she rejects him near the end, saying basically "look at you, its unthinkable" we realise no one sees him as human, even if we are not sure what he is.

As the two lovers, Alek Shrader and Isabel Leonard sing beautiful music beautifully. They convincingly play the lovers who meet and fall in love after meeting. That we can believe this easily is helped by them being film star gorgeous, and with voices to match. The duet they sing just before the interval is in many ways the heart of this piece. It demonstrates the power of love to overcome all, even the power of Prospero and Ariel's magic, freeing Ferdinand from his prison.

But, ultimately, like any opera, this stands or falls on the quality of the performances. And in this case it really does stand tall. And proud. And, I loved every second.