Thursday, July 28, 2005

Harry Potter And The Muggle Opera Lover

I mentioned in my first post to this blog that I would be overjoyed to see a good operatic version of Harry Potter. Many of the greatest operas, after all, are essentially myth and fantasy, and the saga's struggle between good and evil, vivid characters, humor, and emotional resonance would make it an ideal subject for an opera. There was an irresistible post on Opera-L a few months back about imaginary Harry Potter operas written by the great composers, such as Mozart's Harry Potter and the Marriage of Figaro and or Wagner's Harry Potter and the Mastersingers of Nuremberg ("ten Galleons says that Ron can't succeed in a Muggle singing contest"). What I am proposing, however, is an actual opera, or more accurately a cycle of 7 operas, based on the Harry Potter books. And while I would not want this to be used merely as a gimmick to bring children and teens into the opera house, their extra participation would be a nice bonus.

Who to compose? The most likely candidate might very well be Patrick Doyle, who is actually replacing John Williams as composer on Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire. Doyle (who is Welsh) is not only one of the best composers working in Hollywood, but he has an excellent feel for vocal and choral music. I have long thought that he should write an opera. A few years ago I heard that he had been commisioned to write an opera about the late Queen Mum, but I don't know what if anything has become of that. He also has a rather pleasant tenor voice, by the way. I believe he has sung in all the films he has composed for - I know for a fact that he was in Henry V (where he led off the stunning "Non nobis, Domine") and in Much Ado About Nothing he played the musician Balthazar in addition to singing "Sigh, no more ladies" and "Pardon, goddess of the night". Maybe we can give him a small role in the opera! Another possibility might be Rachel Portman, another fine film composer who just wrote an opera based on another great "children's" book, The Little Prince. I do think, though, that the "Double, double toil and trouble" chorus from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban should remain in the opera and perhaps be further adapted and expanded, with due credit being given to John Williams. As a matter of fact, as I mentioned in my previous post about my operatic encounters at the movies, I'd be interested to see what Williams, who has had some fine choral writing in some of his recent films, might make of an entire opera.

Joanne Rowling would have to have a hand in the libretto, of course, but for co-librettist I would nominate Stephen Fry. He is of course intimately familiar with this universe as he is the voice for all the British editions of the Harry Potter audiobooks. Not only that, but also as an actor and as a writer he has plenty of science fiction and fantasy experience in addition to Harry Potter. Most recently, he was the Voice of the Book in the film version of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, and I am delighted to report that he is writing one of next season's episodes of Doctor Who (now if only we can get the new Who in the US!). I believe that in America he is most famous for various incarnations of Lord Melchett in the four Blackadder series, which is sort of historical fantasy and has the same kind of humor as Harry Potter. He is also a classical music buff who hosts a show for Classic FM. Having had some experience with this radio station and their wretched "magazine", I imagine he's the classiest thing on it!

I don't care who directs/produces it, as long as it isn't a "Eurotrash" director who will put lots of unnecessary sex and violence in it and is someone who will remain true to the spirit of the books. And someone who understands children. Tempted as I may be to have Antonio Pappano conduct anything, I'm not sure this would be his cup of tea - to the best of my knowledge, unlike some other conductors, he has never programmed film music in his orchestral concerts (1). Maybe Simon Rattle, who conducted Doyle's score for Henry V.

Now to the part that we're all really interested in - the casting! When I proposed the idea to a young soprano friend of mine, she volunteered to sing Hermione, on the condition that Juan Diego Florez played Harry and Roberto Alagna played Ron! Weelll.... I suppose that if you put the right wig and glasses on Juan Diego he would sort of look like Dan Radcliffe and Roberto is a redhead, albeit he would probably have to wear a pretty serious pair of elevator shoes to be tall enough for Ron. But at least until we get up to Order of the Phoenix or Half-Blood Prince when the character's voices change (2), the children should be sung as children - either by trebles for all or mezzos for the boys and sopranos for the girls.

Also, since these operas will be in English, I really think that the singers should all be native English speakers if not actually from the British Isles, at least for the first production, except for foreign characters such as Madame Maxime. Although considering his very strong resemblance to Jason Isaacs, I was thinking of Dmitri Hvorostovsky for Lucius Malfoy(3)! And I'm sorely tempted to drop the English-only rule and have Rene Pape as Dumbledore.

There is, of course, one absolutely essential piece of casting, and indeed he was the inspiration for the whole idea. Bryn Terfel absolutely, positively has to sing Hagrid! As a matter of fact, he agrees with me - he was quoted in BBC Music Magazine recently as saying "Oh, yes! I am Hagrid! Hagrid is me!". Yes, I know Terfel's native language is Welsh, not English, but especially considering that Hagrid is from the North Country, that's probably close enough. The problem is that I think I would also want him for both Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody, especially the latter.

If we do have adult women sing all the kids, I'm thinking of rising young Handel soprano Emma Bell for Hermione. There are also some fine young British mezzos who could handle the various young men (Harry, Ron, Draco, etc), although I'm not sure which should go with which: Alice Coote (the heir to Janet Baker?), Victoria Simonds, and Christine Rice. If we go with kids, they should be unknowns. What happens, however, when we get to the operas for Order of The Phoenix, Half-Blood Prince, and the as-yet-unnamed seventh book? Should Hermione be a mezzo or a soprano? I think Harry and Ron should have different voice types, but I'm not sure who should be the tenor and who the baritone. At this point I'll say Harry should be the baritone and Ron the tenor, because that seems to be the way Daniel Radcliffe's and Rupert Grint's speaking voices are going.

Since Herr Pape has been barred, a proper British choice for Dumbledore would probably be John Tomlinson. Another possibility, although probably better for a revival than a premiere, would be Willard White. If he doesn't sing Dumbledore, he'd be luxury casting as Kingsley Shacklebolt. I think Felicity Palmer, with both her authority and comic chops, would be an excellent choice for Professor McGonagall. Of course, we have to put Simon Keenlyside in almost any British opera, and I think he'd be ideal for Lupin. Maybe Della Jones for Professor Sprout. And the shortest tenor we can find for Flitwick (unfortunately, again, the name that comes to mind is not an Englishman - magnificent French character tenor Jean-Paul Fouchecourt, who I think is barely 5 feet tall)

The most important gaps at this point are Snape and Sirius. I think a baritone for the former and a tenor for the later, but I can't think of any names right offhand. Also, a good comic bass and mezzo for the Dursleys - Della Jones for Petunia, possibly.

I'm also vacillating about whether Voldemort should be a countertenor (due to his extremely high-pitched laugh) a character tenor, or even the more traditionally villainous baritone or bass. Possibly in the "first" opera, where Voldemort and Quirrell could be a dual role, a countertenor might be an interesting idea.

Peter Pettigrew should definitely be a character tenor - Graham Clark (one of the best Mimes) would probably be a good choice, although the young American David Cangelosi (a very promising Mime and a fabulous Spoletta in the Benoit Jacquot Tosca film) or the Fillipino Rodell Rosel, who just won the Met Auditions, is a member of Chicago's Young Artist Program and I have no doubt is on the brink of a major career might be even better - Rosel's English is virtually unaccented, too. Four-odd months after the Auditions Concert, I can still hear him singing "Aria of the Worm" from John Corigliano's The Ghost's of Versailles in my head. Perhaps Mr. Rosel can sing Pettigrew and Mr. Cangelosi Barty Crouch, Jr.

Now for cameo roles. Deborah Voigt for the Fat Lady. No, that is absolutely not meant as a personal attack and of course now she would have to wear a lot of padding. I thought of Voigt because in the movies the Fat Lady is played by Dawn French, who wore a wig that made her look a lot like the soprano on the cover of her Obsessions album. You may also remember that the Fat Lady, per the Prisoner of Azaban movie, is something of an opera singer. I am very tempted to nominate one particular friend of mine - not a singer- as Luna Lovegood because she's even more cuckoo and otherwordly, but that's too nasty. Although I said that I would be willing to have a French singer portray Madame Maxime, I'm beginning to think that the best choice for the role is an American, Stephanie Blythe. She has an excellent rapport with Bryn (they've been Falstaff and Mistress Quickly together many times) and her sung French is wonderful. She is also a magnificent comic actress with an enormous presence. And she is, physically, a very big woman - not just wide, but tall, probably almost 6 feet (I remember how in Rodelinda Renée Fleming looked like an absolute waif by comparison!). As for genuine Frenchwomen, how about Natalie Dessay in a blonde wig for Fleur? Or perhaps, to make up for not having Roberto Alagna as Ron, perhaps his genuinely blonde sister-in-law, Nathalie Manfrino? Powerhouse Bulgarian basso Vitaly Kolwaljow would be appropriately scary as Karkaroff, and although he's Polish, not Bulgarian, the handsome and talented Marius Kwiecen would be fine as Krum.

Lastly, I nominate my aforementioned young soprano friend Lullalit Supatravanij (she's Thai) as Cho Chang. This is "blind" (deaf?) casting as I haven't actually heard her sing yet! For those who would insist on an established professional, there are some fabulous singers now coming out of the Far East, mostly China and Korea, although they are mostly lower voices (1997 Cardiff Singer of the World Winner mezzo Guang Yang, wow!), not the soprano I think Cho should be. The wonderful Ying Huang (when is she coming to the Met?), maybe. And we can let Lulu sing Hermione in the revival.

This, of course, is all off the top of my head. No doubt more ideas will come into my head as I keep rereading the books, seeing the movies (especially Goblet of Fire in November), and encountering more "English" singers at the opera.



(1) I should point out that backstage after his New York Philharmonic debut, I did see Tony being very sweet to a girl of about 9 or 10, presumably the daughter of a friend. So he clearly likes children, even if he and his wife don't have any, and he has apparently lead youth orchestras with great skill and enthusiasm. So he undoutedly has the "child-friendliness" required.

(2) I am actually rather surprised that JKR didn't deal with the issue of the boys' voices changing in the books. Although her wizards speak (or think) rather than sing their spells, it occurs to me that a voice suddenly going up or down in register might affect an incantation, possibly to comic effect. So far music itself doesn't seem to have been dealt with much by JKR either, apart the enchanted harp and Hagrid's flute being used to put the three-headed dog Fluffy to sleep. Admittedly, Dumbledore "enjoys chamber music" (it was never specified whether as a performer or as a listener) and the Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone creator Nicholas Flamel is an opera fan. Also at least in the movies, Hogwarts has a chorus. We also hear from popular singing witch Celestina Warbeck (who in Half-Blood Prince strikes me more as an Ella Fitzgerald-type than the Kathleen Ferrier-type I had originally envisioned). Unfortunately, the wildly popular "Weird Sisters", which in the book version of Goblet of Fire seem to be sort of a new-age folk type of ensemble (lute, drums, cello, bagpipes), reportedly will be a punk band in the film.

(3) Actually, a few years ago, I think I ran into Dmitri Hvorostovsky in the Lincoln Center area, and for several seconds wasn't sure whether it was him or Isaacs!

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

More than just the Placido Domingo show

Because I do not have my own computer, my only access to the Internet is either at work or at various internet cafes. I can only use my computer at work for personal pursuits during my lunch hour, so I usually spend most Sundays at an internet cafe called "Netzone" on 32nd Street between Broadway and 5th Avenue. This is basically the only place I can listen to internet radio broadcasts and anything else with sound. There are only two drawbacks to being here - one is I tend to get distracted from my actual "work" (i.e writing and E-mails and occasionally critiques for the various science fiction writing forums) with the many wonderful games on Yahoo and MSN or with surfing, the other is that Netzone plays a lot of very loud music, mostly either rap (complete with profanity and racist lyrics) or candy-apple rock (in Korean, yet! Although there was a nice riff on Grieg's "Solveig Song" in there somewhere), which interferes with listening to classical music and opera no matter how loud I turn up the computer or the earphones. It's usually OK when the broadcast is at reasonable volume, but a lot of singer pianissimis, as well as orchestral subtleties, get lost. Still, this cafe charges only $15 for a whole day (up to about 16 hours), it's comfortable, and the only remotely similar-priced internet cafe (EasyEverything on 42nd Street) is a rip-off where half the computers don't work and there's no access to internet broadcasts at all.

It was under these circumstances that I was listening to what seemed to be an otherwise superb reading of Die Walküre from the BBC Proms on Sunday - the BBC, bless them, archives their broadcasts for up to a week. In addition to the noise distractions, I was also concentrating on writing this blog's first post, so I wasn't giving the opera quite the attention it deserved. Also, there were several server problems that made me have to start the broadcast over from the beginning and fast forward - unfortunately, the BBC's media player fast-forwards only in increments of 5 and 15 minutes and doesn't rewind. Therefore, what follows is more random thoughts than a true "review".

That said, I could see why the reviews in the British press were raves. I've already mentioned how much I love Covent Garden's new Music Director, Antonio Pappano (universally known as Tony). Having heard him conduct excerpts from Tristan und Isolde, Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung on the two Wagner discs he did with Placido Domingo, I was eager to hear how he would handle an entire Wagner opera, especially considering that it was as a Wagner conductor that he first won international acclaim when he replaced Christoph von Dohnanyi for Siegfried in Vienna in 1993. Some critics who saw Pappano conducting the same forces at the Royal Opera House the week before complained that while he got all the individual moments right, he didn't "connect" them enough to bring out the architecture of the entire opera. That might actually be true, but I think, again, that if I sensed that at all it might simply be because I couldn't give the opera my full attention. Pappano's usual qualities - passion, drama, warmth, immediacy, sympathy for and intense support of singers - made the performance electric, particularly in the love music of the first act. I was also struck by just how much the opening sounded like a driving rainstorm, with each cello note an individual drop beating on a rooftop.

As eager as I was to hear Pappano conduct this opera, I was even more eager to hear Bryn Terfel sing his first Wotans. While I'll admit he came off better than he did on his Wagner album under Abbado (a great conductor, of course, but I'm not quite convinced of him as a Wagnerian), he didn't sound like he has quite enough power and authority to be ideal for the role yet - a bit of a surprise considering the magnificent Dutchman monologue he recorded on his Opera Arias CD with James Levine, and his voice seemed a little smaller than on other broadcasts/recordings or in live performance. This might be due to the size of Royal Albert Hall - 6,000 seats. I did notice some telling word-painting, and if I were intimately familiar with the opera or had a libretto in front of me I would have been able to appreciate it more. Wotan's Farewell, though, was magnificent, full of passion and sorrow (I personally, would have taken the last "Leb'wohl!" pianissimo, but that's really picky). And his cry of "GEH!" when he kills Hunding sent chills up my spine. Still, whether Wotan will indeed be Terfel's greatest role as many thought at the beginning of his career, or if he will be this century's first great Wotan, still remains to be seen.

As for the title role, I was at Lisa Gasteen's Met debut as Aida in 1997, and was very disappointed that she did not come back until just this past season - as Sieglinde. She was a little shaky in the "Hojotoho!"s, but the rest of the role is virtually at mezzo level. She struck me as very competent but not overwhelming; she was most impressive during the Death Annunciation scene. Incidentally, it was at this point when the computer got "stuck" and RealPlayer was playing the exact same phrase over and over again. I would like to give Gasteen another chance with Brünnhilde, and ideally to hear this under better circumstances, but I think Verdi suits her better. I'd like to see what Violeta Urmana or possibly Nina Stemme could do with the role.

I find Waltraud Meier far more convincing in German soprano roles than in French mezzo roles. For one thing, her lower register is the weakest part of her voice, often sounding rather curdled. I don't know whether this was planned or not, but the quality of Meier's voice suggested that Sieglinde is a not a sweet young innocent but a middle-aged woman who had been trapped in a miserable marriage to Hunding for many years, rejuvenated by her love for Siegfried. I prefer a brighter, fresher, "younger" voice in this role, but Meier's characterization more than made up for any vocal flaws - rather like her Eboli on the DVD of Don Carlos. I am now very interested to hear her Kundry in Parsifal, reputedly her greatest role, when she does it at the Met in May 2006.

I remember being shocked at just how good a singer of Wagner Placido Domingo is when I saw him do Siegmund at the Met in 1997. His two aforementioned Wagner albums with Tony only escalated this impression, and his Parsifal (also at the Met, in 2004) was nothing to sneeze at either. I don't think his Siegmund here was quite on the level if the one at the Met but still very, very good. As a matter of fact, I think I prefer him in German opera to Italian or French, at least at this point in his career. Even though German isn't exactly his best language, Domingo's voice is more sheerly beautiful than that of many heldentenors, and he brings a lyricism to this music - particularly wonderful in the first act - that some of them can't or won't. And yes, as we all know, he's 64 and sounds 20 years younger. Certainly his cries of "Wälse! Wälse!" make this horrendously difficult moment sound like the easiest thing in the world. His best work, though, like that of Gasteen's, was in the Death Annunciation scene, in Siegmund's rejection of Valhalla because he would never see Sieglinde again.

I confess, though that the singer who most made me sit up and take notice in terms of sheer voice was Rosalind Plowright. I had not heard much of her as a soprano, but I know she had an excellent reputation - she recorded Il Trovatore with Domingo under Giulini about 20 years ago. She recently (I think within the last 5 years) made the transition to mezzo-soprano, and it suits her very well. I didn't notice details of characterization, but the voice is rich, warm and powerful, almost contraltoish. I'm definitely going to seek out more of her soprano work. Erik Halvarson was an appropriately black-voiced, nasty Hagen. The Valkyries were all very good but nobody stood out from the others.

What really bothered me here was the fact that the BBC announcers seemed desperate to turn this into The Placido Domingo Show. Even worse, they can't even pronounce his name properly! The first syllable has the "a" in "car", not the "a" in "cat", guys! * I am aware that Domingo was the biggest star in the cast, although Bryn and Tony are well on their way up there and Gasteen and Plowright are certainly very well thought of in England if not quite major international stars. And yes, this was Domingo's very long-awaited Proms debut, and I doubt that there is really anyone else today who can sing Siegmund as well as he can (except possibly Ben Heppner, who I don't think will do it). But I found the implication that no one else involved with this concert was worthy of interest, or that everyone listening has to be a slavering Domingo fan with no interest in anything but their idol, including what he is actually singing, insulting - and frankly, it diminishes Domingo as well. Unfortunately, in the case of the Proms audience, I suspect it's at least partially true - apparently there were quite a few people who left after Domingo was finished in Act II to try to get his autograph (and missed "The Ride of the Valkyries"???). I am not certain because I fast forwarded most of the intermission features, but I believe that Domingo was the only member of the cast interviewed (everyone else was "talking heads"). On the other hand, everybody else was very well applauded, and Tony got the biggest hand of the night - even the announcer admitted that he was the hero of the hour.

Again, since I was listening to this on a Sunday and the broadcast "expired" the day after, I deeply regret that I was not able to listen to it more than once or go back and review certain things. I'm sure that plenty of people will have recorded the broadcast and I can borrow or trade for someone's copy, so I can listen to this in more detail with a libretto. I'm looking forward to it. Who knows? There might even be an "official" release of this broadcast sometime within the next 50 years. Even if not, there will be DVDs coming of the staged performances of the entire cycle. Worse comes the worse, if the production turns out to be ridiculous, I'll just listen with my eyes closed.

*And by the way, it's Ro-BEHR-to, not Ro-BUR-to, Alagna!

Recent operatic encounters at the movies

I suppose that my most recent series of "operatic encounters at the movies" began on Memorial Day, when I went to see Revenge of the Sith. As I stated in my first post, sagas like Star Wars and Star Trek and Babylon 5, with their huge scope, grand passions, and mythic depth - not to mention wonderful musical scores! - are quite rightly referred to as "space operas". More to the point for this particular post, the film actually has a scene in an opera house! Anakin Skywalker (the soon-to-be Darth Vader) meets with Chancellor Palpatine (the soon-to-be Emperor) at the Galaxies Opera House, although it seems that George Lucas is interested more in the opera house as the place where the rich and powerful gather than the state of the arts in the Republic. That might have been interesting actually - Palpatine's megalomania destroying the Republic culturally as well as politically - just like every totalitarian state that ever existed did with its arts - and unfortunately, what a few people in the US are trying to do too. It also seems to be rather common in mystery and suspense movies to have a scene in an opera or theater box to show the contrast between the quiet, sinister conspiracies and the huge, festive public space.

What Anakin and Palpatine are actually "watching" while they discuss the possibilty of eternal life, however, is not an opera - more like a huge sphere with sinuous lights moving across it. In the novelization it is described as a "Mon Calamari ballet". Interestingly enough, John Williams' score for this scene (on the soundtrack CD as "Palpatine's Teachings"), consists of choral basses singing very long notes at the bottom of their voices - a lot like some Russian choral music, but to far more sinister effect - not surprisingly considering that Palpatine is slowly but surely drawing Anakin to the dark side of the Force. Actually, I believe all three movies in the prequel trilogy have quite a bit of very good choral writing in them - it would be interesting to see if Williams could compose a full-scale choral work or even an opera. I must give the wonderful singers of London Voices and their director Terry Edwards their due.

By the way, there is a music critic in Los Angeles who I usually have a lot of respect for, Jim Svejda, who thinks Williams is a big fraud and a plagiarist - his argument is that the Star Wars main title sounds like - get this - the big fanfare at the end of Act III of Manon Lescaut! Sorry, Jim, no dice. Williams is far more thrilling and bombastic here, and I don't think they are remotely in the same key. It's no closer than many other compositions by a lot of other composers. Although I will admit that the wonderful "love theme" introduced in Attack of the Clones bears a strong resemblance to various Russian themes, namely Scheherezade and possibly the Second Polovetsian Dance from Prince Igor.

One of the central plot points of Batman Begins is that the young Bruce Wayne, ambushed by a bat colony while hiding in a well, becomes absolutely terrified of bats - which is why to face his fear, he takes on the form of a bat as an adult crimefighter. While still a child, he is taken by his parents to a production of Mefistofele, and we see the Witches Sabbath scene. When Bruce sees the black-clad demons in this scene descending from the flies on ropes, he instantly sees them as bats. Unlike what some people on Opera-L have said, this is not a "regietheater" production that actually presents the demons as bats (actually, that's not a bad idea), but a "traditional" production that just hits Bruce where it happens to hurt most. It's as if I were to see a person costumed in black with a lot of fringes as a tarantula. Bruce recoils in terror and he and his parents leave, and his father comforts him by saying "A little opera goes a long way". Understandable under the circumstances, perhaps, but I was a little annoyed by the way this seemed to reinforce the stereotype of opera being only for very rich people who go primarily to show off just how rich they are, even though the elder Waynes are clearly wonderful people. The Gotham Opera House (I presume that's what it was called) is much smaller and somewhat seedier looking than its real life New York counterpart - certainly the area outside the house where Bruce's parents are murdered is! I'd be interested to know if the production team actually filmed this in one of the smaller European theaters or if they built a set. By the way, they used the classic recording of the opera with Norman Treigle conducted by Julius Rudel, which was lip-synched to by actors - Patrick Pond, Poppy Tierney and Rory Campbell as Mefistofele, Marguerite, and Faust respectively.

But that's not the only connection to opera that this film has. Unlike a lot of moviegoers, I almost always stay through the end of the credits (and some of these are long - Return of The King had almost 10 minutes worth!), mostly to enjoy the music but also some movies have twists or jokes either during or after. I was quite surprised that listed in the special effects crew as a digital compositor was a gentleman named - Giuseppe Tagliavini! Now I wonder if he could be related to Ferruccio Tagliavini, one of my favorite lyric tenors, or perhaps to the lesser known Franco Tagliavini. I'm not sure whether either of these gentlemen had children. Even if Tagliavini is a common name, it occurred to me that in addition to being a tenor Ferruccio was also a licensed electrical engineer (in fact, that's what he wanted to do with his life and his father forced him to be a singer; according to Robert Merrill, he was able to use his engineering skills to earn a fortune in the construction business), and that's a skill or an interest that might be passed down to a son (or a nephew). I'm not sure exactly what a digital compositor does - I presume it probably has something to do with computer animation - but it sounds like it needs a good mix of both artistic and technical skills.

One of my very favorite places in New York City is probably the best revival/art house movie theater around, Film Forum. They recently had a series called "Hollywood Before The Code", basically films made before about 1934 when the Hays Code that forbade anything remotely sexual or "immoral" from being put into the movies. Although what's in these movies is extraordinarily tame by modern standards, they still had a good deal of sexual innuendo (even - gasp! - homosexuality) and dealt with other things that were extremely scandalous at the time, such as adultery, unwed motherhood, and abortion. The first of these movies of interest here is the 1931 version of An American Tragedy. As many readers of this blog will no doubt know, the Metropolitan Opera is presenting the world premiere of Tobias Picker's opera based on the novel. Although there is no operatic music in the film, it might offer a clue to how this 800-page novel (which I will read prior to seeing the opera) will be adapted - a great deal of material in the book will have to be cut. It focuses on the central story of Clyde Griffeths' romance with and murder of Roberta Alden and his subsequent trial, without going too much into Clyde's background and life before he starts his "rise to the top" and life in his uncle's shirt factory. I will also try to see the 1951 film adaption of this book, A Place in the Sun, before I see the opera.

Several weeks after An American Tragedy, Film Forum presented a double bill of A Farewell to Arms and Morocco as part of the same series - the former deals with sex out of wedlock and pregnancy, the latter is famous (infamous?) as the film where the tuxedoed, top-hatted Marlene Dietrich kisses a female nightclub patron - again, not nearly as tittilating as I expected. The films have both a very young Gary Cooper and Adolphe Menjou in common. Since A Farewell to Arms takes place mostly in Italy, it was appropriate that we should here some opera - one of the soldiers is a tenor who sings "Vesti la giubba" and "La donna e mobile". I thought the tenor sang rather well, although his comrades dismissed his ability. Later in the film, a tenor, presumably the same character, is listening along with Gary Cooper and Helen Hayes to some street puppeteers putting on Il Barbiere di Siviglia with the Rosina/Figaro duet taken at double-speed, and lamenting that this opera was his debut and he would never be able to sing again. Unfortunately, I don't think this actor/tenor was identified in the credits. It also wasn't much of a shock to hear the Liebestod in the scene where Helen Hayes' character is dying. But the big suprise was in Morocco - early in the film we hear a muezzin - that is, the man who calls the Muslim faithful to prayer - not reciting, but actually singing the adhan (said call to prayer) in a gorgeous tenor voice. The melody actually reminded me of a lot of Jewish music, particularly that of Moroccan (obviously!) or Arabic origin. Indeed, the tenor sounded a lot like one of the great cantors like Moshe or David Koussevitzky. Unfortunately, I could find no credit for the singer or this particular music on IMDB.

The final encounter was in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, where Mr. Tagliavini once again showed up in the credits. And on my way into the Food Emporium on 68th Street and Broadway, where I purchased a big chocolate bar to be consumed during the film, I almost bumped into Veronica Villaroel - quite literally!

Incidentally, according to his entry on IMDB, Mr. Tagliavini started his career with a lot of Italian films and has been featured not only in Batman Begins and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, but in Troy, Alexander, and Kingdom of Heaven, and is also working on Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire!

Last minute addition: I just found out the soundtrack album for Wong Kar-wai's new film 2046 features Angela Gheorghiu singing "Casta Diva" - presumably taken from her CD of the same name. I don't know if this film is quite my cup of tea, despite rave reviews and the presence of two actresses I adore, Gong Li and Zhang Ziyi. Both ladies, however, will be starring in the upcoming Memoirs of a Geisha. Maybe if we are lucky, that film's soundtrack might have Angela singing "Un bel di"?

Monday, July 25, 2005

Free frolics in Central Park



Richard Thomas as Touchstone and Brian Bedford as Jacques in the Public Theater's As You Like It


As You Like It, by William Shakespeare
Delacorte Theater, Central Park, July 2, 8:00 PM
with James Waterston (Orlando), Lynne Collins (Rosalind), Jennifer Ikeda (Celia), Richard Thomas (Touchstone), Brian Bedford (Jacques), David Cromwell (Duke Frederick/Duke Senior), Al Espinosa (Oliver), et.al.
Directed by Mark Lamos

We New Yorkers are blessed to have such prestigious arts organizations as The Metropolitan Opera, the New York Philharmonic and the Public Theater* that give (mostly) world-class performances in the city's parks for free. Although during the regular season you can stand at the supposedly "elitist" Metropolitan Opera (in the Family Circle) or at New York City Opera for $15, and usually be able to sneak into a seat during the overture or at worst intermission, many other musical and especially theatrical events strain the purse of impecunious arts lovers such as myself. Even very small, Off-Off-Off Broadway theaters charge at least $35, never mind $60 to $100 for a Broadway show. Not to mention that first-run movies are over $10 now, and most not worth a third of that price. So these chances to see "high culture" of genuine quality for free is something that should be grabbed and not taken for granted - and given how many people attend these events (or try to, in the case of the Shakespeare In The Park productions), it gives lie to the assumption that opera, classical music and classic theater are only for the rich and stuck-up.

I've had a deep and abiding love of Shakespeare ever since childhood. It was one of the things that inspired me to major in English in college (after I failed physics and astronomy quite miserably and the Challenger exploded, derailing my original astrophysicist/astronaut plans), and certainly what inspired me to attempt an acting career. Of course, as with 95% of the people that try for one, said career proved impossible when I didn't have enough money to put food on the table, let alone audition. Now anytime I see a really good production of a play, let alone a Shakespeare, I get terrible "withdrawal pangs" from acting - which is why I avoided it for far too long. I was delighted to have the chance to see As You Like It in the Public Theater's production, as I had never seen a production of it on stage before this (although I think I saw a production on PBS, probably from the Royal Shakespeare Company, about 20 years ago), and indeed had not read the play in 15 years, let alone the literary and theatrical criticism. This might leave some to believe me a less than ideal judge of this production. But that might be beside the point in this case: I think that there would be few productions of a Shakespeare play recently that would be a better introduction to a Shakesperean neophyte (which I am definitely not).

First, I regret that I misplaced the program so I can't identify all the members of the cast and production team. Should I find it at a future date I will edit this post accordingly. There is nothing on the Public Theater's website. Also, as you have likely noticed, it is almost a month since the actual performance and my memory is a bit dim.

One thing you are pretty much guaranteed when you come to see a Shakespeare in the Park production is that you will get at least one "star" player, usually someone well known from film or TV. Here the "names" were Richard Thomas (of The Waltons fame) and Brian Bedford, whose name I know very well but I can't place exactly where I've seen him (looking at IMDB, I'm thinking Murder She Wrote). His bio in the program wasn't much help, basically saying that he's had a couple of hundred roles in theater, film, and TV! I spent almost as much time racking my brains to figure out where I saw David Cromwell (a stage veteran) before - it may just be that he bears a strong resemblance to Doctor Who's Jon Pertwee.

The production was absolutely beautiful. Certainly there could be no better backdrop to a staged Forest of Arden than Belvedere Castle and the lush greenery of Central Park. I have had mixed feelings about some of Mark Lamos' work at New York City Opera (Tosca updated to the 1940s? Doesn't work, and never mind the part that was cut before I saw it of Scarpia ... er... playing with himself during the Te Deum) , but here it was superb. This is probably what could be called a "traditional" production in that it clearly took place in the 16th Century and there were no "concepts" that the director wanted to foist on the audience. The Forest of Arden is here clearly a place not only of transformation but of regeneration and healing, rather like the forest in A Midsummer Night's Dream. I was particularly struck by the scene when the desperate Orlando comes on brandishing his sword and threatening Duke Senior and his "court", only to be met - to his shock and embarrassment - by instant generosity and compassion with every member of the company eagerly extending food toward him. More to the point, everything was clear and understandable, probably the most difficult thing to pull off in Shakespeare, and it was obvious that Lamos cared deeply about character interaction. The set was simple, with a structure that I later read was a Renaissance sundial, blazoned with the Latin words for "Here we are in Arcadia". Trees were brought on by the cast for scenes in the Forest of Arden. Costumes were beautiful too, even if Celia looked a little ridiculous in her Aliena guise (that might have been deliberate), and I wonder if Touchstone really should have worn his motley into the forest. Additionally, there were some nice touches with the "horses" ridden by the noblemen (actually part of the costumes!) and Silvius' sheep, which neighed and baa-ed to great comic effect. Lovely music as well (a pity I can't remember the composer), including some very nice settings of the play's songs, although "It was a lover and his lass" couldn't stand up to Roger Quilter's.

While this was a very strong ensemble cast, pride of place goes to Mr. Bedford as Jacques - interestingly enough, the name was given an "English" pronounciation as "JAY-queez" instead of the correct French. Particularly striking was his interpretation of the famous "All the world's a stage" speech. He began it as a skeptical question (All the world's a stage? And all the men and women merely players?), but Jacques is clearly entranced by the idea and delights in convincing himself of its truth, growing more in empathy and compassion as the "player" grows older, the "sans eyes, sans teeth, sans everything" brilliantly juxtaposed with Orlando carrying on the aged, dying servant Adam. He also has a very warm, soft, cultured, very beautiful baritone voice - I wonder if he sings, too?

Lynn Collins, as Rosalind, is clearly a star in the making. Giving a very extroverted portrayal, she was the center of attention every moment she was onstage and was hilarious and believably masculine as the page Ganymede, capable of both wit and tenderness. She made a splash recently playing Portia in the recent film of The Merchant of Venice with Al Pacino as Shylock. Based on what I saw here, I don't know whether she had quite the wisdom and gravity that Portia needs (some critics complained about that in her Rosalind), but I will wait to see the film to judge. Incidentally, she bears a strong physical resemblance to Cate Blanchett. James Waterston (yes, Sam's son, and he looks strikingly like him) was a sweet, innocent and somewhat callow Orlando, wounded by his brother's hatred of him but who grows into a worthy husband for Rosalind. Richard Thomas, while very funny, energetic, and sexually charged in the scenes with Audrey, didn't strike me as having the deep wisdom underlying Shakespeare's fools. I was surprised, however, to see how well he moved - he must be well past 50 now. It was an interesting touch to have both Duke Frederick and Duke Senior played by the same actor even though the characters aren't twins (perhaps a comment on what Frederick could have and should have been?), and David Cromwell did splendidly as both the cold tyrant and his gentle "Robin Hood" nemesis - often coping with some very quick costume changes. Jennifer Ikeda made an appropriately devoted, somewhat ditzy Celia, and Al Espinosa made Oliver believable as the hostile schemer and the repentant, eventually loving brother to Orlando and suitor to Celia.

Of the "smaller" players, the best were Helmar Augustus Cooper (I hope I remembered that name correctly!) as the shepherd Silvius, the Audrey and the Phoebe (now those are roles that I would love to play!), and the actor who played Amiens, who sang all the play's songs.

The biggest flaw in the production, I think, lies in the play itself, as one of the most important transformations - that of Duke Frederick from a tyrannical usurper to a religious penitent - takes place offstage when it should take place onstage.

I should also use this space to applaud the Public's continuing devotion to ethnicity-blind casting (although I wonder if they have had or ever will ever have women doing "male" roles). I remember being enraged when I read a theater critic who will remain nameless sneer at the Public's wonderful production of Tartuffe because it had - horrors! - an (excellent) African-American actor in a "white" role (I think it was Cleante - whichever character is the wise, reasonable counselor opposed to Tartuffe). Well this "gentleman" is now retired, I believe, and good riddance! Let's hope such ridiculousness ends with him, and more theaters nationwide follow the Public's example - and I've noticed that even the Royal Shakespeare Company now has quite a few actors of African decent on their roster.

Since this was July 4th weekend, it seems that everyone and his or her brother or sister who didn't leave the city seemed to be on line at the Delacorte for tickets. Fortunately, I went with a good friend who is disabled, so she was able to go to the front of the line and get something immediately. We had front row seats! And in one of these six-degrees-of-separation things, she actually knows Richard Thomas - she used to be a dancer and his parents were her teachers! Unfortunately, we did not go backstage afterwards.

By the way, mazel tov to Mr. Waterston and his family on the birth of their new daughter, I think her name is Sophia (I overheard one of the other actors talking about it before the show.

Next at the Delacorte in August - a musical version of Two Gentlemen of Verona??? Sounds interesting, and if it's half as good as As You Like It was, I'll be on line with bells on. And next year we will be getting Meryl Streep in Mother Courage!

*And perhaps not as big-budget, but often marvelous, are Vincent La Selva's New York Grand Opera and the Naumberg Orchestra

Conductor Xian Zhang

Karen Gomyo*, violin
The New York Philharmonic
Xian Zhang, conductor

Great Lawn, Central Park, July 13, 8:00 PM

Wagner: Overture to The Flying Dutchman
Lalo: Symphonie Espagnole
Tchaikovsky: Symphony #5

The Delacorte Theater, where the Public Theater presents its Shakespeare and other classical offerings is, of course, an actual theater, with both the slight degree of formality and lack of massive space that implies. Just as necessary are the more relaxed and almost "do-it-yourself" atmosphere of the Metropolitan Opera's and the Philharmonic's Parks Concerts. Here you can stretch out, literally kick your feet up, eat, drink, and be merry without the normal social constraints of an opera house or concert hall. Unfortunately, I was not able to attend the Met's offerings this year, but I didn't want to miss the Philharmonic as well. The soft, sweet-smelling grass, the cool breezes, the often inventive and elaborate picnic dinners, the overwhelming excitement of the huge crowds (usually well over 100,000 people, even in bad weather) and the joy of seeing babies and children delight in their first exposures to great music more than make up for the negatives, such as people talking during the music, said children crying, the long speeches by corporate executives and government dignitaries, airplane noises (more on that below!), and, if you're really unlucky, people smoking in your face.

As with the Shakespeare, I had some very good luck here. I managed to bring my folding chair right up to the barrier that separated the VIP section from the rest of the crowd. About 10 minutes before the concert, one of the holders of the VIP tickets came up to me and asked me if I wanted a ticket! Apparently she had three friends who didn't show. I eagerly accepted and moved my chair as far forward as they would let me, on the side of the 7th or 8th row of seats (the seats are for the patrons, but the VIP area as a whole is basically for family and friends of the musicians and other Philharmonic employees). It was delightful to actually be able to see the conductor and the soloist at an event like this, although I regret not bringing my opera glasses because I couldn't see their faces. Not to mention the line for the port-a-pottie was much shorter.

Like many others, I first heard of Xian Zhang when she won second place in Lorin Maazel's conducting competion (by the way, what ever happened to the first-place winner, Thai conductor Bundit Ungrangsee?) . I was overjoyed to see a potential great conductor who is a woman - and I am delighted to report that there are a growing number of them!. I heard her for the first time at the Philharmonic's Memorial Day Concert at St. John the Divine (playing Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade and Tchaikovsky's Romeo and Juliet), and what I heard there and at this concert makes me want to seriously watch her career. She has both the authority and the collegiality to create a very strong rapport with the orchestra, a clear passion for and knowledge of the music, and a very athletic, physical stage presence. What I am not yet sensing, however, is the quality that makes a great conductor - a truly individual stamp on a work, the ability to make you hear a piece in a totally new way, to astonish. However, she's only 30 or 31, which is toddlerhood by conductor standards. Also, it is probably unfair to judge her in the often difficult acoustics of an outdoor concert, or the huge, echoing space of St. John's - in both cases I think she was making tempo changes to accomodate this - so I think I want to hear her in an indoor space such as Avery Fisher or Carnegie Hall to truly judge her. Certainly Zhang has an excellent career ahead of her - she was just promoted from Assistant Conductor to Associate Conductor of the Philharmonic, and will be shortly Music Director of the Sioux City Symphony. She also seems to be in demand as a guest conductor. Best of all, she has been getting some very nice reviews for her opera work in Cincinatti, and according to her bio her first professional engagement was conducting Le Nozze di Figaro at the Beijing Opera - could we possibly be seeing her at the Met within the next 10 or 15 years?

I enjoyed the Tchaikovsky Fifth, but I admit that I don't know the symphony well and can't easily make comparison with interpretations by other orchestras and conductors. Also, I don't like the work itself quite as much as I like the Fourth. I'm a little pickier about the Wagner, and while I think the opening could have used a bit more punch and elan, there was still plenty of tension and drama as well as the feel of the sea. Kudos to Zhang (or whoever actually planned the concert) for programming this, as it had not been played by the Philharmonic in almost 20 years. Shieh-sheh, Maestra!
Violinist Karen Gomyo
I regret that my enjoyment of the Symphonie Espagnole was slightly hampered by two things. First, I have the recent, incredible EMI recording with Maxim Vengerov and Antonio Pappano running through my head, and almost anything would come up short after that. Pappano's specialties include infusing just about anything with the tremendous individuality and fire that so far elude Zhang, as well as coaxing gorgeous, radiant sound from orchestral strings sections. And Japanese-Canadian violinist Karen Gomyo, making her Philharmonic debut, has a beautiful tone and a fine technique, but as with Zhang, I didn't yet sense anything truly individual or wildly interesting. Then again, it's probably grossly unfair to compare her with Vengerov, one of the most imaginative violinists I've ever heard, who truly makes different "characters" of each movement in this symphony. (You might want to see my review of this disc, now on Amazon, for further details) That said, I would like to hear Gomyo again, and some of my disclaimers about how the sound challenges may have affected Zhang's conducting may apply to her as well. The other problem, unfortunately, is something that probably couldn't have been avoided in an outdoor setting - at the end of the third movement, when Gomyo played a gorgeous high pianissimo, a helicopter chose just that moment to roar overhead (what was it even doing in Central Park's "airspace?). Both violinist and conductor tried to stretch out this lovely note to "defeat" this noise, but their efforts were unfortunately in vain.

I was a little disappointed that there were no encores.

All Philharmonic concerts in the Parks end with fireworks, and these were excellent, produced by Bay Fireworks. Not quite the Grucci July 4th display, but a very enjoyable 7 minute capper to this lovely evening. Unfortunately, some of the best displays disappeared into the low-lying fog that suddenly appeared half an hour before.

I regret not having attended the final Parks concert of the season on July 19th, but the heat index was pushing 110° (45° for those who think in Celsius), and there was supposed to be major, terrible rainstorms coming that night. Well, weather forecasts can be wrong, and it wasn't rained out after all. It was an all Dvorak program withe the Cello Concerto and the New World Symphony, with Lynn Harrell as soloist and Lorin Maazel conducting.

By the way, there is a very nice interview with Zhang currently available on Andante. And her name is pronounced Shee-YEN Jhong.

NUUUU??? So what's a yenta????

Well, I'm back! For those of you who might have noticed, I actually started this blog way back in March - and then had no time to tend it. So I deleted the old posts, gave it a new template, and am starting over. For those of you who have no knowledge of Yiddish (which I will assume will be mostly non-Americans, because Yiddish has so thoroughly penetrated American English), a yenta is someone, usually an old woman (not me, folks, I'm 35!) who talks, and talks, and talks, and just won't shut up! Usually spelled Yente, it actually used to be a pretty common Yiddish girl's name, probably from either the French gentille or the Italian gentile. Unfortunately, there was apparently there was one woman with the name who was such and energetic gossip that the name became forever associated with that quality. I very happily admit that I often won't shut up either. So I will spend lots of time here talking, and kvelling (gushing), and probably kvetching (complaining) a little, too, about things operatic.

But the one aspect of yenta you will not find here is that of the nasty, superficial gossip columnist. I notice many rabid opera fans - or rabid fans of anything, frankly - tend to love that stuff. Too many of them engage in behavior, especially online where they can hide behind pseudonyms, that is utterly insulting to the cats and female dogs it's named after. Now like any opera fan, I have very strong opinions, and yes, there are singers and people in the business I dislike, but I do my best not to engage in personal attacks against anyone. The only time it might possibly happen is if I'm defending someone, but again, I'll work very hard to avoid it. And certainly I won't make nasty cracks about singers' private lives - the only "divo/diva dish" you will see here will be recipes!

What can you expect from this blog? Hopefully reviews of just about every opera and classical music concert I go to, broadcast I listen to, or CD I hear, as well as theater, film, and possibly dance, and non-classical music. During the regular season, I stand at the Met roughly once every week, and try also to go to vocal recitals as well as New York City Opera several times a year. Hopefully I will also have more opportunties to go to the opera outside New York City. I am especially floored by the musical thrills (if not the stage productions) produced by Covent Garden under the directorship of its new maestro, Antonio "Tony the Genius" Pappano, and hope to actually hear him conduct an opera live, which I haven't done since his only previous Met appearances with Eugene Onegin in 1997. While several of his other projects next season look more than interesting, the essential is Tosca with my beloved Angela Gheorghiu. I am also making every effort to go see Angela with her equally splendid hubby Roberto Alagna in Los Angeles in Pagliacci, which will have the added bonus of Frederica von Stade and John Cheek (who I've actually sung with!) in La Grande-Duchesse du Gerolstein, and hopefully a trip to the theater to see Kate Mulgrew in her one-woman show about Katherine Hepburn, Tea at Five, which I didn't have the money to see while it was in New York.

I am also an amateur choral mezzo (actually, probably a true contralto) and will post reports of my own singing activities. I currently am involved with the Saint George's Choral Society, which rehearses and performs at Saint George's Church between 16th and 17th Streets about halfway between 2nd and 3rd Avenues, right across from Stuyvesant Park. We will be singing Haydn's Lord Nelson Mass in the fall (probably mid-November) and Rossini's Petite Messe Sollenelle in the spring (probably mid-April). I will also be reauditioning in the fall for The Rottenberg Chorale, a Jewish chorus I sang with a number of years ago. I also go and sing in the Berkshire Choral Festival whenever I can afford it (not this year, unfortunately) - that's where I sang with Mr. Cheek, back I believe in 1998, in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony.

Not suprisingly considering the title of this blog, Judaism, cultural as well as religious, is extraordinarily important to me. My observance of my faith is progressive and postdenominational, and obviously that informs much of my thinking, but although I might post occasionally on Jewish topics, I'm not sure this is quite the spot for extensive divrei torah (literally "words of Torah", a biblical discourse or a sermon). Of course, whenever opera and Judaism coincide, I will definitely discuss it, i.e the "biblical" operas or possibly even Yiddish Gilbert and Sullivan (!), and I'm also preparing a post on how Rossini's Le Comte Ory relates to the prohibition on men wearing women's clothes, which I'll post when the appropriate parasha (weekly Torah portion) comes up. Actually, I am researching finding arias, songs, or other classical compositions to coincide with each parasha and will start posting when the cycle begins with Bereshit sometime in late October. I got the idea while listening to bits of a splendid new disc of Schubert sacred songs (the final volume in the Hyperion Schubert Edition), which not only has Schubert's only song in Hebrew, a setting of Psalm 92, but a song called Hagars Klage (Hagar's Lament)

My other great passion is science fiction and fantasy - reading it, watching it, and now attempting to write it! And of course, there are so many links between opera and SF/Fantasy - did you know that the entry on opera in The Encyclopedia of Fantasy is 11 pages? That's just a list - not an explanation, just a list - of operas with fantasy elements, which believe it or not includes Pagliacci because of the commedia dell'arte in the "play within a play". Obviously, so much of opera has its origin in myth and legend just like most great fantasy, and operas such as The Makropolous Case and Aniara are science fiction. And of course, it's not for nothing that sagas like Star Wars and Star Trek are called, well, space opera. You will probably also see book reviews, film reviews, maybe video game reviews, as well and comments on some of my favorite alternate universes (e.g. Star Trek - all five series, Doctor Who, Babylon 5, Harry Potter, etc) here, although I am tentatively planning a separate review blog for Star Trek tentatively titled Linear Existence.

I'll also post various miscellany as I see fit, although I'll try not to overload the blog with it.

Coming soon (within the next few days) : A review of the Public Theatre's Shakespeare-in-the-Park production of As You Like It and the New York Philharmonic's July 13 Central Park concert, some recent operatic encounters at the movies, comments on my latest operatic stash from EBay, possibly a review of the splendid BBC Proms Die Walküre I just listened to with the aforementioned Maestro Pappano, Placido Domingo, Bryn Terfel, Lisa Gasteen, Rosalind Plowright, and Eric Halvarson. Oh yes, and even the Ring would pale before a seven opera Harry Potter cycle, and I'll give you some ideas and possibly casting. And at some point I have to write a spoof song (otherwise known in SF fan circles as a "filksong") called "The Yenta of the Opera" to the tune of "The Phantom of the Opera" Readers are welcome to try this on their own ;-).

Alright already! Enjoy!