Monday, October 31, 2005

Daniel Catan - a major opera composer?





Composer Daniel Catán


I commented back when I first heard that Placido Domingo and Rolando Villazon were going to appear in an a new opera based on Il Postino together that I needed to hear more of the work of its composer, Daniel Catán. Well thanks to the wonders of internet radio, tonight I got to hear most of one of his operas that premiered just about a year ago at the Houston Grand Opera, Salsipuedes, a Tale of Love, War and Anchovies (a broadcast of a live performance from HGO) and Act II of Rappacini's Daughter (from a recording made by the Manhattan School of Music). I am very impressed by what I heard - this opera is a keeper. The music may not be instantly memorable or hummable a la Puccini, but it's passionate and usually gorgeous. Most importantly. Catán's work is actually singable, unlike that of so many modern composers who make unreasonable demands on their performers. There is some "Latin" rhythms in his music, but not consistently, and I particularly noticed quite a bit of scoring for xylophone. He is one of the very few contemporary composers who has multiple stagings of his works, and I think he could grow into one of the 21st Century's major opera composers if he plays his cards right. Certainly having promoters like Domingo and Villazon can't hurt.


Soprano Ana Maria Martinez

I was also very impressed by the performers in both works, but pride of place goes to Ana Maria Martinez, one of my favorite sopranos of the new generation, who sings Lucero in Salsipuedes. Her voice is dark and rich with a mezzoish tinge, and it has presence, pathos, and drama. She will make her Met debut on November 19 as Micaela, but I would love to hear her as Carmen. In fact, if I do wind up going to see Carmen this year (I probably will because I usually attend the performance the night before Thanksgiving), I will be going for her and Marcello Giordani, and not for Denyce Graves, the "star" of the production.

Martinez will have a CD of opera arias coming out on November 15 from Naxos, a label for which she has extensively recorded in their fabulous series on American Jewish music - Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco's Naomi and Ruth is a must. Martinez's husband, tenor Chad Shelton, did an excellent job of singing Lucero's lover Ulises, and it was a pleasure to hear Zheng Cao's warm, velvety mezzo as Magali. The lower voices were also fine. The soprano in Rappacini's Daughter was Olivia Gorra, who was apparently a student at MSM when the opera was recorded, but has since sung Liu at the Met and is on this season's roster as a cover. She's got more competition than Martinez, but I would still be happy to hear her.

(Note: I missed most of the plot synopsis, and I don't speak Spanish, so I really don't know what was going on in the operas. NPR describes the plot of Salsipuedes as a cross between Cosi fan Tutte and Springtime for Hitler!)

Sunday, October 30, 2005

Strongly cast, mostly satisfying Met "Aida"



Aida

Music by Giuseppe Verdi, libretto by Antonio Ghislanzoni

Performance of Saturday night, October 29, 2005, the 1,085th Metropolitan Opera performance of this work.

Conductor: James Conlon

Aida: Hasmik Papian
Radames: Salvatore Licitra
Amneris: Dolora Zajick
Amonasro: Mark Rucker
Ramfis: Paata Burchuladze
The King: Morris Robinson
Messenger: Ronald Naldi
Priestess: Edyta Kulczak


First three bits of good news - Jean-Paul Fouchécourt, who was injured during last week's Falstaff, is fine. I wasn't able to find out exactly what happened to him, but it didn't seem too serious - in fact I think he was all right the day after the performance. Second, for the first time in the regular season (I'm not counting the Opening Night Gala), the house was actually full - good news even though I couldn't get a seat. And my new binoculars arrived from E-Bay, enabling me once again to see details of facial expressions even from Family Circle Standing Room. I expect that when I go for Rigoletto and La Traviata, where I hope to get Balcony seats, I'll be able to look down the singer's throats!





Armenian soprano Hasmik Papian, publicity shot (I couldn't find any pictures of her as Aida)

I regret that I was unable to see Michele Crider in the title role, but I was prevented by both the Jewish holidays and by my chorus rehearsals. Although I was at Crider's Met debut as Butterfly (big, passionate voice, but clearly nervous and trying very hard not to trip over her kimono) and also saw her Leonora in Il Trovatore (where the voice was still impressive but she clearly had technical problems), I have never hear her sing Aida, which many say is her best role. Hasmik Papian, however, proved to be a more than adequate substitute. Her voice is a bit brighter and more lyric than I like in this role, albeit quite beautiful. There was some scooping and her Italian diction is a bit odd (probably the Armenian accent), but she is a wonderful actress physically and vocally. Her word-painting, particularly in "Ritorna vincitor" and the confrontation with Amonasro, was quite telling and some of her pianissimi in the Nile Scene ("La tra foreste virgini") were exquisite. I can understand why she had a recent triumph in Detroit as Norma. As a matter of fact, there are rumors the Met is doing Norma in 2007-2008 - I wonder if she'll be in the cast? I can't immediately think of anyone who could do justice to the role at the Met, although I would love for Angela Gheorghiu to try it in a smaller theater. Possibly Christine Goerke (fellow SUNY Stony Brook alumna!), who like Papian has had very good reviews for the role in regional houses. Although I wouldn't mind seeing what Jane Eaglen, who has been absent from the Met for a while, could do with the role under and actual conductor rather than an "insulator" like Carlo Rizzi... Actually, if there really is a Norma, I suspect that it will be for house darling Renée Fleming, who recorded (not well, I think) "Casta Diva" and is probably the biggest star they can get for the role.

Salvatore Licitra as Radames

Although I hadn't been that eager to hear Papian before the performance, I was eager to hear Salvatore Licitra live for the first time - the "plazacast" of his Met debut as Cavaradossi (where, as everyone knows, he replaced a flu-ridden Luciano Pavarotti) doesn't really count. At that time I thrilled to the warmth and beauty of his voice, particularly in Tosca's Act I Love Duet, enough that I was willing to forgive him some inartistic moments no doubt engendered by the circumstances of his debut. I was also mostly impressed with his first solo disc (the less said about his pop "duet" album with Marcelo Alvarez, the better), and would have been more so if it had been conducted by someone other than the aforementioned Mr. Rizzi. However, there were quite a few reports, mostly from Europe, that indicated that he could be a quite variable singer.

Admittedly Licitra did not seem quite warmed up for "Celeste Aida", which, of course, is what the majority of the audience is most interested in. This is a standard problem for any tenor considering that this very difficult aria is the first thing he sings. In fact, Jean de Reszke, considered by many to be one of the greatest tenors of the 19th Century, regularly cut it. His first high notes were tight and seemed to be coming from the back of his throat, though the final high B was vigorously sung and equally vigorously (and too automatically) applauded. I suppose it was too much to ask that Licitra would actually take this note "piano, pianissimo, morendo" as Verdi wrote it. Once past the aria, he was fine. On his solo disc he bore an uncanny vocal resemblance to Luciano Pavarotti; this is less evident on stage. While much of his voice was as warm and beautiful as it was in 2002, what most impressive here was the clarity and naturalness of his Italian, at a level that probably only a native can have. He's a fine actor, if just a bit physically stiff - he interacted believably with all the other cast members and his facial expressions were very convincing, but he needs that last touch of individuality and imagination. I regret that he and Papian sang the final "Si schiude il ciel" fortissimo rather than gorgeously pianissimo as many of the best interpreters (notably Milanov and Björling) did.

For better or worse, Licitra seems to be the Met's new "star tenor" around whom new productions are planned and who can get pretty much whatever he wants. His future engagements reportedly include Luigi in Il Tabarro for the new production of Il Trittico in 2006-2007 and Manrico in a new Il Trovatore in 2008-2009 in addition to Canio, Gustavo, and Dick Johnson. As talented as Licitra is, I think his ascent is largely due to political reasons. Joseph Volpe is pushing Licitra because Licitra made Volpe (not the Met - Volpe!) "look good" in the debacle of Pavarotti's Tosca cancellation, and no doubt incoming Met GM Peter Gelb, the former head of Licitra's record label Sony, will be equally generous to someone he knows and presumably loves.


Amneris is Dolora Zajick's greatest role, and by her admittedly titanic standards, her portrayal of Amneris this performance actually seemed ... almost small-voiced at the start - possibly an unannounced cold, or a slightly different manifestation of whatever was affecting the men. Nonetheless, hearing her "blood and guts" voice and portrayal is a joy in an era of too much vocal politeness, and she is genuinely exciting, never vulgar. I do think that Amneris is a much more sympathetic character than Zajick makes her, despite her pain in the Judgement Scene and remorse at the end. Most mezzos, including titans such as Fedora Barbieri and Giulietta Simionato, make Amneris into the villain of the piece, which I'm not quite sure is what Verdi wanted - after all, the opera was almost called Amneris. So far, though, Zajick's only serious competition in this role seems to be Olga Borodina, a somewhat smaller scale but very human Amneris.

Mark Rucker as Amonasro (opera house unknown)

I first heard Mark Rucker back in 1991 or 1992 as Renato in Un Ballo in Maschera, in a telecast from Philadelphia (with Pavarotti as Gustavo, of course - why else would it be telecast?) and was very impressed. I have been wondering for years when he would come to the Met and assume that he would have been there years ago if he wasn't African-American*, especially considering some less than stellar Amonasros in the recent past (Pons? Nucci? Sorry.) I figured if I noticed him, why hadn't the Met, who no doubt has tons of scouts? Well they finally did notice him when he sang Don Carlo in La Forza del Destino with the Collegiate Chorale, probably because they were there to see Licitra as Don Alvaro. Rucker was scheduled only for this one performance of Amonasro (same as for his debut in this role last season - just like every African-American singer except for Crider and Denyce Graves) and - whoopdeedoo! - he has two performances as Don Carlo, again opposite Licitra. Like virtually all the male soloists except Licitra, he seemed to be affected by dryness of voice (the weather might possibly be the culprit here). Because of this, I wondered if maybe the Met got him too late. If the voice wasn't overwhelming, Rucker was a good stage actor and clearly had considerable experience in the role. The good news is that per his website, he will be back next season for both Tonio in Pagliacci and the title role in Rigoletto. Let's hope he gets more than one performance of each this time. At least he isn't being relegated to "black" roles. The sound bites on his website of his Rigoletto sound very promising - powerful, dramatic, and passionate.

Paata Burchuladze has been a decent Grand Inquisitor in the past, but I usually haven't been very impressed with him and here he did nothing to revise my opinion of him upwards. His voice is hollow and his Italian is virtually unintelligible. He's reportedly doing Alvise in La Gioconda next season - for goodness sakes, Met management, if you can get Violeta Urmana, Roberto Alagna, Olga Borodina and Larissa Diadkova, can't you get a really world-class bass, or is four big stars enough?

Morris Robinson as the King of Egypt

Frankly, the role of Ramfis should have been sung by Morris Robinson. I first heard this phenomenal young bass in small roles (Mercury in Les Troyens and Second Nazarene in Salome), and immediately wanted to hear him graduate to the big ones. The voice is huge, even cavernous, well-focussed, and most importantly, instantly memorable. Tonight, however, like several other cast members, he was a bit dry in the beginning, and sounded better when singing from the front of the stage - the King is usually towards the back. Robinson sounds like many of the "black basses" of the past, such as Gottlob Frick, Matti Salminen, and maybe even Boris Christoff. And to those who might think that is a tasteless or even a racist pun, he is the only African-American bass I have ever heard who sounds like that - they tend to have very lyric voices - Paul Robeson, in my opinion, sounds a lot like turn-of-the-20th-century French basses such as Edouard de Reszke. However, the good news is that Robinson seems to be a singer the Met wants to promote, as he has represented them in various 9/11 commemoration events and has had quite a bit of publicity. His first major role, Sarastro, comes up in January and February 2006. My immediate impression is that this isn't that good an idea. Yes, Robinson's voice is amazing and he absolutely should be doing major roles, but so far I haven't heard the wisdom, warmth, and kindness Sarastro needs, even if he has the power and authority - he sounds like a villain. However, I'd cast him as the Grand Inquisitor, Fafnir, Hagen, or Kaspar in five seconds flat, and maybe Phillip in 10 years. Osmin or the Commendatore would probably be the best Mozart roles for him now, and I would love to hear him sing the "Tuba mirum" solo from the Requiem. He deserves, and will probably get, major stardom.

The usually reliable, and often excellent, comprimario tenor Ronald Naldi seemed affected by the same dryness as the other men as the Messenger, but Edyta Kulczak was an excellent Priestess. I am a little surprised that the Met is casting Kulczak, who is nominally a mezzo, in a soprano role, though she had no trouble with any of the high notes. Then again, 4 of my Met Priestesses either achieved or are on the way to stardom - and one of them is also a mezzo, Michelle De Young. The others are the aforementioned Christine Goerke, Sondra Radvanovsky, and Indra Thomas.

Oddly enough, James Conlon's conducting made absolutely no impression on me whatsoever, good or bad. Admittedly, I usually only notice conducting when it hits one of those extremes. But considering that Conlon is seriously rumored to be James Levine's replacement as Artistic Director when he leaves in 2011, I want to hear something that I can notice!

The production regularly gets slammed in the press and by some fans for its "Zefirellian excess", but I think that this opera, at least in the house the size of the Met, needs to be a spectacle, even though I usually hate it when the audience applauds scenery or the stage elevator. After all, much of the opera, and not just the Triumphal Scene, takes place in public. I would like to see a more intimate Aida, as it's essentially only about three people - Aida, Radames, and Amneris - but I'm worried that the overwhelming passion would be lost and the intimacy might be joined to directorial stupidity. (Robert Wilson directing Aida? Good grief, Tony, I practically worship you, but what were you thinking?)

Although I admit that I'm hardly a dance expert, I believe that the choreography is some of the worst I've ever seen at the Met, mostly terribly unimaginative and even silly (like the foot flexions timed to orchestral chords in the Triumphal Scene ballet or randomly waving arms in the Dance of the Moorish Slaves). I admit over repeated viewings - this is my sixth visit to this production - the Dance of the Moorish Slaves has grown on me. No doubt it is an attempt, successful or not, to recreate actual Egyptian dance. However, no fault for any of this can be laid at the dancers' feet (sorry) - they did a superb job with what they were given.

One very picky thing - while I certainly wouldn't want the Met to do an Al Jolson on her, I think Papian could have used a little more black makeup as Aida - she looked more very well tanned, possibly Arabic or even Egyptian, than Ethiopian.

I will try to see the spring performances as well, mainly for a repeat of Olga Borodina's Amneris, but I would also like to hear Johan Botha as Radames. He's no actor, but he has a lyric, clarion voice very reminiscent of Ben Heppner, and I have yet to hear him live in Italian opera. Next up at the Met: Cosi fan Tutte on Tuesday.

Finally, an amusing note. Apparently in the performance of Aida prior to this one, the horse that was drawing the chariot carrying Radames in the Triumphal Scene, er... had an accident. Or didn't think Licitra was worthy of being carried by him. At any rate, one of the extras in a loincloth came on with a bucket and a shovel. Hey, who knew that plastic was invented in ancient Egypt?

* I will be posting a tirade about the Met's treatment of African-American singers, especially the men. Eventually. By February for "Black History Month" at this rate!

Sunday, October 23, 2005

"Falstaff" not quite so "Immenso" without Bryn




Falstaff

Music by Giuseppe Verdi, Libretto by Arrigo Boito

Performance of Saturday evening, October 22, 2005; the 175th Metropolitan Opera performance of the work; the final performance of the season.

Conductor: James Levine

Falstaff: Louis Otey (substituting for Bryn Terfel)
Ford: Roberto Frontali
Alice Ford: Patricia Racette
Meg Page: Maria Zifchak
Nannetta: Heidi Grant Murphy
Mistress Quickly: Stephanie Blythe
Bardolfo: Jean-Paul Fouchecourt (replaced after Act I, Scene I by John McVeigh)
Pistola: Mikhail Petrenko
Dr. Caius: Peter Bronder

Most of the professional reviews of the Met's latest revival of Falstaff were utter raves, saying it was not only the best performance of this opera in years, but one of the Met's greatest achievements in years, period, raving about the quality of the ensemble. Since I had already seen the production in 2002, and was not totally enamored of the casting of Frontali and Murphy, these reviews were what put this on my "must-see" list. The fact that a near orgy of buying musical events in late September considerably drained my purse, plus the Jewish High Holy Days, meant I had to delay Falstaff to either the October 15th or October 22nd performance. Unfortunately, I just "didn't feel like going" on October 15, so if I wanted to go at all, I had to go to last night's performance.

My eagle-eyed friend Brad Wilber, who runs the wonderful Met Future Season's page, let me know on Thursday that he had looked at the Met website and found that Terfel had cancelled - whether due to illness or wanting to go home to his family in Wales early, I have no idea - and was being replaced by Louis Otey. Despite an almost-ideal female cast, I was considering forgoing the Falstaff because of this. New York City Opera was performing Dukas' Ariane et Barbe-Bleu, an opera I had never seen live(1), and Saturday night was my last chance to see it. In the end, it was my Shabbat nap that made the decision for me - I woke up too late to arrive on time for NYCO's 7:30 performance!






Baritone Louis Otey, headshot (I could not find any pictures of him as Falstaff)

I first saw Otey about 12 years ago in The Student Prince at NYCO, as Dr. Engel (the title character's wise old tutor) and I think I've seen him there a few more times, although I can't be sure because I don't keep the kinds of records of my NYCO visits that I do of the Met, and they don't have an easily accessible performance database. I've definitely seen him at the Met as Fieramosca in Benvenuto Cellini and Carbon in Cyrano de Bergerac. It's hard enough under any circumstances to come into a performance at the end of the run, especially when it's a relatively unknown singer replacing a superstar, but Falstaff is probably the worst opera for this to happen because it's such a well-coordinated ensemble effort. Matters were not helped when at the end of the first scene, the pause to change the set went on, and on, and on, until finally the stage manager came out and announced that Jean-Paul Fouchecourt was injured during the scene change and to save time, they would be having the intermission now. As you can imagine, some of the performances energy was dissipated because of this, and the performance still ended almost half an hour late (2).

No doubt because of all that, it took some time for Otey to fully integrate himself with the rest of the cast, and initially his voice wasn't quite big enough to ride over the orchestra. After the enforced break, however, either he was more warmed up, or Levine was better able to judge how far to take down the orchestra to better accomodate him. The problem ultimately was though Otey has a good, solid bass-baritone voice and he's a decent actor who eventually interacted very well with his stagemates, he simply doesn't have an instantly recognizable instrument or the overwhelming presence and charisma that someone like Terfel can bring to this role, and what this role needs. It was also too obvious that this Falstaff was a relatively slender man in a fat suit.





Roberto Frontali was a real surprise. I first saw him as a bright, likeable Figaro in Il Barbiere di Siviglia in 1995, but on both broadcasts and recordings - most recently a duet disc with the wonderful Ramon Vargas, he has been something of a dull dog, especially in Verdi. Seeing him live for the first time in 10 years, I was shocked by how fine a Verdian he seems. It may simply be that microphones, whether studio or stage, don't do justice to his voice. Frontali's voice here had real core, presence and bite, and "E sogno? O realta?" was a dramatic tour-de-force. He also did a good job of capturing Ford's officiousness, and later chagrin and repentance.

The Merry Wives of Windsor (l. to r.): Maria Zifchak as Meg Page, Heidi Grant Murphy as Nannetta, Stephanie Blythe as Mistress Quickly, and Patricia Racette as Alice Ford.

The Merry Wives were indeed a fabulous group. While I don't think Patricia Racette has the je ne sais quoi that makes a great soprano, I have always seen her as a thoughtful, intelligent artist whose performances are always worth attending, although not necessarily running to. Her radiant top was effective here in conveying both high spirits and pathos. While listening to this I kept thinking that she would make an excellent Elisabetta in Don Carlo. And since she's done Butterfly in both Houston and on the West Coast, is it too much to ask that she does it at the Met? We're not exactly drowning in great Butterflies, especially as the most worthy candidate (you know who!) will never do it!

Unfortunately for Maria Zifchak, Meg Page is a role where it is very easy for the singer to get lost in the ensemble, the same happened with the wonderful and grossly underrrated Suzanne Mentzer in my previous outing. Nevertheless what I was able to make out from her was of very high quality.

Other than Frontali's Ford, the other big surprise for me was just how good a Nannetta Heidi Grant Murphy was. I tend not to like "soubrette" voices, as much as I may admire the artistry of those who have them, preferring a fuller sound - Barbara Bonney is as light as I normally would like in this sort of repertory, although I am quickly warming to the marvelous Isabel Bayrakdarian. Murphy previously struck me as particularly "white-voiced" as Servilia in La Clemenza di Tito, even though that did serve to bring out the character's innocence and sweetness. These qualities, as well as romantic ardor and mischief, were more than evident here, but this time Murphy's voice seemed fuller than on previous outings, and unlike Camilla Tilling in 2002, totally even throughout her range. Her "Fairy Song" in the last act was truly magical.


As her lover, Matthew Polenzani didn't have quite the level of honeyed sweetness I would like (his pianissimi need a little work), but sang beautifully and was both ardent and totally believable. So far he's the most promising American lyric tenor in some time - I only hope that he doesn't ruin his immense potential the way Paul Groves and (sniff!) Gregory Turay seem to have.

As far as I'm concerned, however, the star of the show was contralto (yes! a true contralto, not "just" a mezzo-soprano) Stephanie Blythe. While her performance of Mistress Quickly in 2002 was excellent, here it was spectacular. Here she showed a rich, plummy, booming sound, with magnificent comic chops - particularly in the scenes with Otey and the moments where she is spoofing Falstaff to the other Merry Wives, as well as her "witchy" behavior in the final act - and the ability to truly command the stage. Blythe is probably greatest American singer under 50 before the public today - and the only one who actually deserves all the attention she gets, if not more. A protegee of Marilyn Horne, Blythe is rightly called by many people her heir and even sounds uncannily like her. I first noticed her ten years ago when she was still in the Met's Young Artists Program, thrilled with joy over her star-making Cornelias in 1999 and 2000 and have watched her continue to grow. Note that you might want to read my review on Amazon of her stunning Handel and Bach disc; unfortunately, I haven't had the chance to buy her Brahms/Mahler/Wagner lieder album.

While John McVeigh couldn't make Bardolfo memorable the way Fouchècourt did in 2002 - the difference between Act I and what followed was palpable, he sang and acted the part well. His voice is perhaps a bit too sweet for this ne'er-do-well. Mikhail Petrenko sonorous, dark grained bass did make Pistola memorable. British tenor Peter Bronder, who made his debut on the first night of the run, created an incisive portrait of Dr. Caius and I hope to see him back at the Met in other character roles.

The "refurbishment" of this production done for the 2001-2002 "Verdi Season" was my first encounter with this production. Basically. Considering that Nicolas Hytner created an absolutely wonderful production of The Magic Flute for the English National Opera, and some excellent Handel stagings, what could have he come up for Falstaff which would have aroused such ire not only from James Levine but also from Met Technical director Joseph Clark?

If not the "performance for the ages" that this might have been with Terfel's presence and without Fouchècourt's injury, it was still a rewarding evening. I would also like to see more of Otey at the Met, and not necessarily just in comprimario roles. The King of Egypt in Aida would be an excellent fit for him - and maybe more Verdi work at New York City Opera?

(1) I did see a concert version of the opera, mainly because Marion Capriotti, a friend I have since lost touch with who is a wonderful contralto, sang the Nurse. She also sang the Mistress of the Novices in NYCO's Suor Angelica, covered the Alto Voice in Moses und Aron at the Met, and substituted for Florence Quivar in a concert performance of Massenet's Cleopatre. I can't remember who sang Ariane, or even which company presented the concert at Alice Tully Hall.

(2) Something similar happened back in February 2000 when I went to London to see Roberto Alagna and Angela Gheorghiu sing in Roméo et Juliette at Covent Garden, among other operatic delights (La Boheme with Ramon Vargas and Elena Kelessidi, also at the Royal Opera, and H.M.S Pinafore at the Savoy Theater). After Act I the stage machinery got stuck and the backstage staff had to spend about half-an hour repairing it, forcing an extra interval. A lot of the energy was drained out of the performance and it ended 45 minutes late - Tito Beltran, the Tybalt, went home early without taking a curtain call. Fortunately, I had a ticket for a subsequent performance that really was one for the ages.