Sunday, October 31, 2010

The annual operatic Halloween story!



Jussi Björling, publicity shot taken around 1940

This story stars my all-time favorite singer, the incomparable Jussi Björling, who not only had the greatest voice G-d ever put in a human throat (or at least a male throat), he was also more often than not a warm-hearted and and incredibly generous person. His widow Anna-Lisa, in her wonderful biography Jussi, talks about how he loved suprising people with expensive gifts. So, especially considering that he rarely did any opera that could be associated with horror (Faust? Not really, although I think he did Max in Die Freischutz very early in his career), you would hardly think that his name would come up on Halloween, especially since in Sweden, they do their trick-or-treating around Easter!

Apparently sometime in the late 1940s, or perhaps the early 1950s, Jussi was at a party in Stockholm which eventually turned into a singalong, and he was shocked to hear a young man sing art songs in about four or five languages very, very well. Jussi was mightily impressed, and went up to the young fellow (who, like most of the party attendees, was not a professional singer), and said "You know, you are really very good. Would you like me to arrange an audition for you at the Royal Opera?" (That is, of course, the Royal Opera, Stockholm, not Covent Garden). Intrigued, the young man said yes. Well, Jussi arranged the audition, and the high muckety-mucks at the Royal Opera were as impressed as Jussi, to the point where they offered the promising singer a place in the Royal Opera School. He told them he would think about it, but a few days later he came back to Jussi and said "I'm sorry, Mr. Björling, but I don't have the money to live in Stockholm full-time. Besides, I think my path to fame and fortune lies elsewhere." Well, he may have been one of the relatively few people who actually could say no to Jussi, but he was right. Because do you know who that young man was?

Alright, everybody...

One....

Two....

Three...






CHRISTOPHER LEE!

(Now you see what this has to do with Halloween.)

Actually Lee has an absolutely wonderful speaking voice and I'm not surprised he could sing well enough to impress Jussi - I imagine he must be a bass, although I suppose he could be a bass-baritone or even a baritone. His mother was an Italian countess, which accounts for both his facility with languages and his obvious affinity for "high culture", which probably many horror fans (or people who look down their nose at horror films) wouldn't have expected. I think he actually made a recording of songs a few years ago (in his seventies!), but I can't find it. In light of this revelation, I think it's terrible that he never sang in any of his films, to the best of my knowledge.

But can you imagine what might have happened if he had taken Jussi up on his offer? Instead of Saruman in Lord of the Rings, he might have been Hagen, or even Wotan, in Wagner's Ring! Or he could have been the title character in Märschner's Der Vampyr (and probably made that opera very popular) instead of the many Draculas he did for Hammer Horror! Thank goodness, I'm sure he's too classy to have appeared in John Moran's The Dracula Diary!

And King Phillip might not have been a bad idea, either.

On a side note - the actor who possessed the most beautiful speaking voice I've ever heard had to be George Sanders, most famous for his roles as Bois-Guilbert in Ivanhoe and Addison DeWitt in All About Eve. Not surprisingly, he could sing superbly as well, and often did so at parties, although again like Lee, unfourtunately, he doesn't seem to have sung in any of his films. He was apparently so good that he was actually offered Scarpia by one of the West Coast opera companies (I'm not sure which one), but he turned it down because he "didn't want to be an opera singer". What a pity. That would have been something to see and hear!

Especially if Jussi were the Cavaradossi...

Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Farewell to a wonderful baritone?

Earle Patriarco in front of the Metropolitan Opera House, date unknown.

Back in 1999 I discovered the wonderful American baritone Earle Patriarco, when he sang Lescaut on the superb Angela Gheorghiu/Roberto Alagna recording of Manon, conducted by Antonio Pappano. His singing was robustt and immensely characterful, and there were several moments during his portrayal (his sheer disbelief when Manon wants to go to Saint-Sulpice and his bribing of the Le Havre guards - "J'insiste!") where I actually laughed out loud. It was a superbly cast recording all around, even in the smallest parts, but Patriarco came close to stealing the show from Angela and Roberto - not easy! I believe he appeared in several recordings subsequently, and I saw him many times at the Metropolitan Opera since. Per the Met database he has sung 177 performances between 1997 and 2010, debuting as Ping in Turandot (1). Most of the time this was in character and comic parts (Taddeo in L'Italiana in Algieri, Falke in Die Fledermaus, the Marquis D'Obigny in La Traviata (2), Schaunard in La Boheme, and Dancaire in Carmen) but I was fortunate to also see his Figaro in Il Barbiere di Siviglia (he was covering the indisposed Simon Keenlyside, injured in a bike accident). While there are baritones who could beat him for sheer voice, I have never seen a more sheerly loveable and adorable Figaro than Patriarco. He also sang Belcore in L'Elisir D'Amore (which on the basis of his Figaro would suit him perfectly!) and Valentin in Faust, which especially in light of recent events, I am very unhappy I missed.

I was looking through my Das Rheingold program last night, noting any new additions to the roster, when I discovered, to my horror, that the newest bass in the Met chorus is...Earle Patriarco. What the heck is he doing in the chorus? My first thought was - he's ill or has had vocal problems - but surely that would be unlikely, with the huge workload the chorus takes on? A victim of nasty backstage politics? I suspect there's a bit less than in the Volpe era of that under Gelb - he seems to be a mensch, whether his underlings are or aren't. After talking with a few people (who know people who know Earle), it looks like it was his decision after all. He has five or six kids and he might have decided a steady chorus gig was better for his family than gallivanting all over the world like most singers do - and possibly the chorus pays better than being a freelance comprimario in other houses (I think it's about $70,000). It seems to be similar to the situation with bass Jeffrey Wells, who gave up singing major roles like Mephistopheles in smaller American theaters to get steady, and better-paying, comprimario work at the Met. Earle also apparently was looking for some local voice faculty jobs, which would also indicate a desire to settle down. And perhaps this isn't all bad - I have to remind myself that there are thousands of singers who would kill to get into the Met chorus. I considered auditioning about 15 years ago, but I'm not a good enough musician and the schedule is probably murderous - I can't imagine singing Turandot the night after I sang Carmen, both very heavy chorus operas that are occasionally performed on subsequent nights. Plus I've heard rumors that they'd fire you if you made the same mistake twice.

What still bothers me is - even if he is in the chorus, why isn't he on the main roster as well? Surely there must be some role, major or comprimario, that he can cover this year (OK, they aren't doing Barbiere or Elisir)? Or is there still a possibility that he could return to the main roster in future seasons? He's given the Met a lot of good work and he deserves to be rewarded for it. If not, his last performance was as Dancaire on May 1, 2010. I wish him to be happy and well, whatever happens.


Actually, it just occurred to me - if Earle is going to be "stuck" in NYC for the next year, maybe we might be able to see him here in recital?

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(1) More recently, Ping is the role that the Volpe administration relegated wonderful Chinese baritone Haijing Fu (my first Met baritone, as Enrico in Lucia di Lammermoor) to, once they had Europeans they could replace him with in Verdi. And now he's not even getting that...

(2) As the Marquis, Patriarco bombastically attempted to join the flamenco dancers at Flora's party, which considering that he (or the Marquis!) isn't a good dancer, was memorably funny. And former recording colleague Angela Gheorghiu, as Violetta, gave him such a gigantic hug at the Marquis' arrival at Violetta's party that it was clear it was Angela hugging Earle, not just Violetta hugging the Marquis!

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

The Great Choral Resume




CHORAL WORKS

Sung with the Stuvyvesant High School Chorus, the SUNY Stony Brook Undergraduate Chorus, Riverside Choral Society, Rottenberg Chorale (later renamed Nashir! The Rottenberg Chorale), Zamir Chorale, St. George's Choral Society, and Berkshire Choral Festival.


Johann Sebastian Bach

Lobet den Herrn

Samuel Barber

Easter Chorale
Sure on This Shining Night
To Be Sung On The Water


Ludwig Van Beethoven

Choral Fantasy
Missa Solemnis
Symphony #9 (Choral)

Leonard Bernstein

Chichester Psalms

David Berger

Hatikvah Hanoshanah
Megillat Haatzmaut


Lili Boulanger

Psalm 24

Johannes Brahms

Eine Deutsche Requiem
Geistlicheslied
"Lass Dicht Nur Nichts Nicht Dauren"
"Hallelujah" from Triumphlied
Liebeslieder Waltzes (Nos. 1, 2, 4, 11)
Nanie
Shicksalslied

Yezhekhel Braun

Eishet Chayil
Shir Hashirim


Benjamin Britten

Hymn to the Virgin
Saint Nicholas Cantata

Harry Burleigh (arr.)

"Ezekiel Saw De Wheel"
"Wade In De Water"

Claude Debussy

Salut Printemps
Trois Chansons

Maurice Durufle

Requiem

Antonin Dvorak

Te Deum

Richard Einhorn

Voices of Light (June 2011)

Gabriel Faure

Requiem

Giovanni Gabrieli

Jubilate Deo

Nancy Gailbraith

Magnificat (December 2010)

George Frederick Handel

Israel in Egypt
Psalm 122

Howard Hanson

Lament for Beowulf
The Seven Last Words of David


Franz Joseph Haydn

Heiligmesse
Lord Nelson Mass
Te Deum

Arthur Honneger

King David

Flora Jagody

Ochos Kandelikas

Charles Ives

Symphony #4

Zoltan Kodaly

Missa Brevis

Felix Mendelssohn

Elijah
Psalm 42
Magnificat
Surrexit Pastor

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Mass in C
Regina Coeli K.281
Requiem

Carl Orff

Carmina Burana

Hubert Parry

I Was Glad

Ariel Ramirez

Missa Criolla

Salamone Rossi

Shir Hama'alot

John Rutter

The Sprig of Thyme (Afton Water, I Know Where I'm Going, The Keel Row)

Camille Saint-Saens

Christmas Oratorio (December 2010)

Simon Sargon

L'Moshel

Robert Schumann

Mass in C

arr. Robert Shaw

"Joy, Joy, Joy"

Randall Thompson

Alleluia
Frostiana


Ralph Vaughan Williams

Hodie
Symphony #1 (A Sea Symphony)

Kurt Weill

Kiddush



OPERA CHORUSES

(all with the Brooklyn Lyric Opera, later renamed the Empire State Opera)


Georges Bizet

Carmen

Francesco Cilea

L'Arlesiana (both alto and tenor!)

Gaetano Donizetti

Lucia Di Lammermoor

Charles Gounod

Faust (also understudied Marthe)
Romeo et Juliette

Rugierro Leoncavallo

I Pagliacci

Gian Carlo Menotti

Amelia al Ballo (in English, also played Second Chambermaid)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Cosi Fan Tutte (in English)
Don Giovanni
Die Zauberflöte
(in English)

Giacomo Puccini

Madama Butterfly

Johann Strauss, Jr.

Die Fledermaus (in English)

Giuseppe Verdi

Aida
Un Ballo In Maschera
Rigoletto
Il Trovatore


This list will continue to be updated as I remember more things I have sung (a lot of smaller works, especially the ones sung with the Jewish choruses) or find the music, and, of course, as I add new concerts. I am not counting brief excerpts from larger works (unless they are song cycles, like the Rutter). For example, I have sung "And The Glory Of The Lord" and the "Hallelujah Chorus" from The Messiah many times, but never the whole work. I seem to vaguely remember singing some Praetorius and Schutz in college, but not specific works. I will also offer up some explanations of some of the more obscure works, especially the Jewish ones.

With great regret, I am also not counting works I extensively rehearsed with the Riverside Choral Society (Brahms Songs for Women's Chorus Op. 17, Orff's Cattuli Carmina, Hindemith's Serenade to Music), but never actually performed. At the time I worked for RGIS, an inventory company that didn't realize that slavery ended in 1865 (probably because most of the people who worked there were black!) and would drive us out to huge stores in the Bronx and Long Island and New Jersey and make us work 10 hours or more, often without any break (1), and I couldn't even call my section leader and tell her I had to miss the rehearsals! No great surprise, they kicked me out (2). And I was also having some hygiene issues at the time, which probably didn't help - I was 22 and really stupid. I have tried in vain to get back in. Unfortunately, while I think I have the voice for the really major New York choruses, which Riverside definitely is now (they perform at Carnegie Hall, have big management, and go on tour), my sightsinging skills are quite poor and I can't pass auditions (3). Once I'm in a chorus, I pick up things by ear and have few problems, especially in strong/large alto sections.


(1) Several workers did threaten to go to the Department of Labor over this, to which management replied "Go ahead. We have lawyers."

(2) And, of course, I was so enraged at this that I immediately quit RGIS. My immediate supervisor, who was as much a "slave" as I was, was totally sympathetic and I did get a new job very soon after working at Tower Records as a clerk in the classical department. Management there was almost as bad as RGIS, but the job itself was great and I loved talking to the customers.

(3) Naturally, I have taken sightsinging classes. The problem is since they are in groups, I naturally "cheat" and pick up from what other people are singing. In order to improve, I really think I need to study this privately.

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Mingling With The "Gods"

Das Rheingold

Metropolitan Opera, October 4, 2010 (157th Metropolitan Opera performance)

Music and Libretto (1) by Richard Wagner


New Production

Producer/Director: Robert Lepage (in association with Ex Machina)
Sets: Carl Fillion
Costumes: Francois St-Aubin
Lighting: Etienne Boucher
Video Image Artist: Boris Firquet

Conductor: James Levine

Wotan: Bryn Terfel
Alberich: Eric Owens
Loge: Richard Croft
Fricka: Stephanie Blythe
Freia: Wendy Bryn Harmer
Fasolt: Franz-Josef Selig
Fafner: Hans-Peter Konig
Erda: Patricia Bardon
Donner: Dwayne Croft
Froh: Adam Diegel
Mime: Gerhard Siegel
Woglinde: Lisette Oropesa
Wellgunde: Jennifer Johnson
Flosshilde: Tamara Mumford

Anybody who lives in New York City, and possibly even the surrounding area, is probably aware of the Met's latest publicity blitz. Bus shelters, the sides of buses, and quite a few other things are covered with pictures of Bryn Terfel, costumed as Wotan and carrying his spear, titled "Mingle With The Gods". Well, I was one of the "minglers" on Monday night. Although I have heard a number of recordings (especially the famous Solti one), saw the telecast of the previous production by Otto Shenck (and a few non-Met ones), I have never seen the opera live - the only Ring opera I have seen in it’s entirety is Die Walküre, and I deeply regret not having had the money to see the entire cycle of Schenk's production. Well, virtually the whole world has been waiting for Bryn's Met Wotan (which he's done at Covent Garden - and there was the concert Die Walküre from the Proms), and that plus a promising new production and Stephanie Blythe as Fricka made me willing to brave the hordes of Wagner fans who descend on New York every time a Ring opera is performed here. It turned out to deeply satisfying, far more than I expected (that was, I thought, more from the later Ring operas), and at least musically, one of the best nights I’ve had at the Met in ages.

First of all, I was pretty lucky. The performance, of course, had been sold out for months (and now Die Walküre is sold out as well), so I had to get standing room. I logged on the Met's website at precisely 10AM and went to the performance page, refreshed that page and snagged a standing room ticket at 10:01. By the time I finished the transaction, at 10:08, Family Circle Standing Room was sold out. I suspect Orchestra Standing Room sold out even before that. Unfortunately, online purchase fees, facility fees, and what looked like a mandatory "contribution" (which I whittled from $5 down to $1 - I might have figured out how to get around it if I had more time) turned a $17 ticket into $28. I was too relieved to have the ticket to yell "extortion!" Since I normally buy standing room tickets at the box office where the only thing they charge is the $2.50 facility fee, this usually isn't a problem. And the performance was worth a heck of a lot more than $28. I admit I didn't relish the idea of standing for 2 1/2 hours without an intermission - the last time I stood that long was for Wozzeck, I can't remember when. I did stand through Die Walküre in 1997, but that was a breeze by comparison as there was a "sitting break" every hour and 15 minutes. Naturally, I was very careful not to eat or drink anything until after the performance.

This performance was proof, if any was needed, that no matter how exalted the cast, conductor, or orchestra, recordings do not do Wagner justice - his music must be heard live. Not even the Immolation Scene (with Jane Eaglen) at the James Levine Gala back in 1996 drove home this point so strongly. The orchestra was like a cauldron that Levine stirred with his magic baton, and the sheer raw, elemental majesty emerging from the pit (and elsewhere - where were the anvils?) was astonishing. The opening chords really do sound like the creation of the universe - all the more appropriate considering I just finished reading the biblical creation story in Parshat Bereishit (2). You could hear the leitmotifs swirling back and forth between instruments. For lack of a better term, it sounded truly “3D”. Plus it was a bit of a “shock” to hear some of the leitmotifs (Giants, Magic Fire, Donner’s “Heda, heda, hedo!”, etc.) for the “first time”. Kudos is particularly due to the brass section.

The cast was equally superb, and of the singers, bass-baritone Eric Owens took top honors as Alberich. His voice is huge (easily carrying over the intense orchestration in all but one probably sextuple-forte moment), dark, firm, rich and burnished, and his German diction is superb - I actually noticed it more than the three native speakers in the cast, or Bryn, who is usually a master of it. And he's a wonderful, as well as very physical, actor. One might argue his voice is too beautiful for Alberich (or Hagen, which I hope he does as well - what he could do with the Summoning of the Vassals!), and not "menacing" in and of itself, but that actually makes him almost sympathetic when the Rhinemaidens are teasing him.

I first heard Owens back in the mid-90s when he won a prize in the Licia Albanese Puccini competition, singing a memorable Sparafucile in the duet with Rigoletto (3). He was a finalist in the Met Auditions (not sure if he won) a few years later, and admittedly at that time he seemed a little small-voiced in the Met auditorium, I remember he sang "Arise, ye subterranean winds", which I think is from Handel's Hercules - he is shortly to sing the title role in Chicago. I waited for him to appear on the Met roster for years after (I think he might have been a cover at one point). While he was very young when I first saw him and basses don't reach their full maturity until they're in their mid-40s (not sure how old he is now), I can't help but think that racism might have been a factor in such a long way to the Met, especially under Joseph “Blonde Fetish” Volpe. He finally made his debut as General Groves in Doctor Atomic, a rather blustery comic character role, in 2008. He also sang Sarastro (in the English-language Magic Flute performances?), but I missed that. It looks like Owens is finally getting the career he deserves, and this portrayal is going to raise his star considerably. Some Opera-L posters preferred him to Bryn Terfel for Wotan, and I would indeed like to see him do it one day - although how many singers have done both Alberich and Wotan? Hunding might be more likely - and I think he could make a more sympathetic one than usual. I only hope his success in German and English-language repertory doesn’t “disqualify” him from French and Italian.

One thing I couldn't help but think while watching this - and I'll probably go more into this when I write my inevitable "What's A Nice Jewish Girl Like You Doing Listening To Wagner?" post - was that for all of Wagner's anti-Semitism and the embrace of his music by Hitler (who probably saw himself as Siegfried!) and the Nazis, there is no better allegory for Hitler than Alberich, the "ugly dwarf" who renounces and curses love for the sake of power, enslaves his own people, and has fantasies of world domination. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a production somewhere that actually portrayed Alberich as such, since German productions of almost any opera seem to love to put their villains in Nazi uniforms, whether or not it makes much sense in context of the opera. (4)

I found it a bit odd that the Met Titles referred to Alberich as a "gnome" rather than a "dwarf". I'll have to check the libretto to see if the German word was "zwerg". When I think "gnome" I think the benevolent, one-with-nature Huygen/Poortvliet version, which also draws pretty heavily on German/Scandinavian mythology (their wonderful book Gnomes recently released a 30th Anniversary Edition and was a mainstay of my childhood, as was its sequel Secrets of the Gnomes) or the Dungeons & Dragons version where they're essentially fun-loving and joking. Not to mention "dwarf" more than "gnome" conjures up people who dig for precious metals under the earth (5).

If Bryn "suffered" in comparison to Owens, I suspect that it's simply that Die Walküre is a better showcase for Wotan and the singer playing him - Das Rheingold is much more an ensemble piece and if anyone dominates the proceedings, it's Alberich and Loge. As Bryn himself says in this interview , in this opera Wotan is a character who reacts, leaving most of the “action” to Loge. It's possible he had difficulties on Opening Night, as some reported, although I heard nothing wrong here. I was surprised that there were moments where he was drowned out by the orchestra – this is not a small voice! - but by and large he had both the majesty and internal conflict the role needs. The truth is, there really is no way that Wotan can do the right thing, and Bryn made that clear, as well as showcasing his mercenary quality. For the other gods, Freia is their sister and they love her, whereas for Wotan, she's at best a mere in-law and more likely just a magic apple producer. I still wish his first major Wagnerian assignment at the Met (he did Wolfram in Tannhäuser back in 1997) had been last year's Der Fliegender Hollander, based on his stunning recording of the Dutchman's aria - Juha Uusitalo wasn't bad, but for a role like the Dutchman you need much more than "not bad". And he just did Hans Sachs at the Welsh National Opera (admittedly much smaller than the Met).

Although I’ve admired Richard Croft since I first heard him (as a particularly sweet-voiced and sympathetic Cassio in 1995), I’ve tended to think of him as “Dwayne’s little brother”. Since my Met attendance records were stolen (long story), I am unsure as to whether I saw him as Ferrando in Cosi Fan Tutte (definitely not the performances with Dwayne, possibly ones with Nathan Gunn), so this is probably the largest role I’ve ever seen him in. He’s not just a great singer’s little brother - he more than held his own as the scheming, unctuous wheeler-dealer. As I said, it’s he and Alberich who really drive the proceedings. While his voice is not as beautiful as it was 15 years ago, Loge is more an acting role than a singing role - it's more important to convince as a bastard than to sound great. I’ve seen a few stories in Norse mythology where Loki/Loge is a more benevolent trickster god, and while here he is clearly evil, it was interesting to see him as the outsider among the gods (he’s half human? Who are his parents?), as well as the fact that there’s clearly a backstory between him and Alberich (his cousin).

Stephanie Blythe was magnificent as Fricka, probably the character I most identified with in her desperately trying to revive her marriage to Wotan and save her sister from essentially being sold into slavery. This is particularly satisfying as I think Wagner is at best ambivalent about her, making her the guardian of the "bourgeois morality" he scorns. I originally thought Blythe, being a true contralto, was vocally more suited to Erda, and then I realized that Erda is just that one aria whereas Fricka is a role. I believe this is the first time I've heard her in a German opera, although I've heard her in German song repertory. (And I’ll have to miss her master class at Manhattan School of Music tonight as I have to both give blood and go to my chorus rehearsal!)

The smaller roles were also very well, even luxuriously cast. Dwayne Croft (Richard’s big brother!) had probably the most memorable single moment in the production with Donner’s conjuring the storm and the rainbow bridge; this is the first time I’ve heard him sing in German. It’s still a pity that illness (GERD? Sinus issues? ) reduced him from being the greatest lyric baritone on the Met roster in the mid-to-late ‘90s to being just very good now. (6) I had first seen Patricia Bardon as Cornelia, the role that Stephanie pretty much owns now, and Erda suited her better – it was nice to have both singers in the same cast. I’m also happy to see Wendy Bryn Harmer breaking into her first major role as Freia. Let’s hear her in some Puccini (I had doubts about mostly-Mozartian Hei-Kyung Hong’s suitability for Liu until I heard her Freia). A little surprised to see Lisette Oropesa as a Rhinemaiden (as I said, luxury casting), now that she’s done Susanna and Lisette and is about to do Amor in Orfeo ed Euridice, but I suspect she was cast as this first. There were also two fabulous giants (although I had difficulty telling which one was which until Fafner kills Fasolt, not to mention the similarity between the singer’s names!) – I actually felt quite sorry for them, even if they are dumb brutes, they’re the working class guys exploited by the rich folk. I remember Franz-Josef Selig’s Pope in Palestrina from the late ‘90s (where he sang an easy low G) and Hans-Peter König’s Daland was the best thing about Met's Hollander revival last year. Adam Deigel brief outbursts as Froh were enough to make me want to hear him as Walther von Stolzing one of these days, although I suspect David is more likely. I’m not absolutely sure of this, but I think he started his Met career in the children’s chorus – which would make him the first adult singer at the Met to do so. While I'm still pretty desperate to hear David Cangelosi as Mime (after his stunning performance on the Domingo/Pappano Wagner Scenes disc, plus his equally fabulous Spoletta), Gerhard Seigel was very good.

On Sunday I went to a double bill of The Wrong Trousers and Topkapi as part of Film Forum's "The Heist" series (7). Since these films showcase a lot of climbing with wires and walking on walls and ceilings, this actually turned out to be a pretty good preview of Robert Lepage's new production, on which I'm reserving judgment for now. I’m enough of a traditionalist to prefer the Schenk. Die Walküre will be a major test, as will later performances of Rheingold this year and in the full cycle. As spectacular as some of the descent into Niebelheim and subsequent ascent looked (and I'm not sure how else one can stage the floating Rheinmaidens) I'm a fanatic about performer safety (since my "real life" job is in worker's compensation) and all the wire work, sideways climbing, and sliding down a steeply raked set raised my alarms. Not to mention that such production requirements on the performers excludes great singers who might not be very agile or have fear of heights (8). A production should expand a singer's performance choices, not limit them. The stage machinery famously got stuck at the gods’ entrance to Valhalla on opening night, but there were no problems now, although it was noisy (I suspect that's unavoidable), Still, I would bear in mind the saying "the more complex the plumbing, the easier it is to stop up the drain".

(UPDATE: Apparently Bryn, and presumably the other singers, had stunt doubles. Whew. Actually there was a moment after one of the “walks” where Wotan went offstage – and came back a bit too fast for him to have taken off the wires, so I should have realized. I guess there won’t be any close-ups during those scenes in the HD broadcast. The doubles should have been credited in the program!)

At least nothing Lepage did got in the way of the story or was outrightly offensive, like Luc Bondy's Tosca production or most European productions of Wagner (or anything else). And I'd give a lot more leeway to a story essentially steeped in myth and fantasy. Just don't make the gods literal 21st Century real estate moguls. Lepage meant the production to evoke the landscape of Iceland, as it's a raw, primal location, almost like another planet, and of course Iceland is one of the major sources of this mythology (9), but I didn't get quite as much sense of Iceland as he talked about. I suspect there will be more of that in the other operas which take place on "Earth" (Midgard?) and we have more dealings with mortals. I think the use of film projection probably is the best way to stage this sort of work, and most of them were very effective. In particular, Donner's lightning bolt (I actually jumped!) and the rainbow bridge was incredible. Also the "fire" surrounding Loge looked very realistic. It was a relief to see Wotan looking like most traditional depictions of him (and the publicity photos had him with his two ravens , not seen here) instead of, say, in a business suit, or even the somewhat "generic" costume James Morris wore in the Schenk production. His "comb over", as opposed traditional eye patch, had a few complaints on Twitter (and Opera-L, I imagine), but it has largely the same effect and obstructs the singer's actual vision less. I don't think I'd want to walk "down to Niebelheim" with no depth perception. I admit some "scar makeup" around his eye would have been nice, but that's probably too subtle to be seen by anyone not the front of the orchestra. The giants looked a bit too much like Hagrid (10) for my taste, but then again, I don't doubt J.K. Rowling got some of her ideas from Wagner and his sources, as she's a real polymath when it comes to mythology and folklore. The other costumes were fine - Stephanie looked suitably matronly, but any regality came from her bearing, not her rather plain gown.

One bit of possibly bad news. I only got a brief glimpse of James Levine, at the end of the performance (couldn't really see him in the pit, nor was I sure whether he was standing or sitting), but he did not look well. Of course, he had several recent surgeries, and he's lost a lot of weight, but still... He took his bow from the side of the stage, apparently unable to climb onto the set platform (which wasn't very high) and stand/bow with the singers. Wishing him a refuah shleimah (that's Hebrew for complete healing, body and soul). Would anyone happen to know his Hebrew name? Has it been made public?

The 2 1/2 hours went by pretty quickly - it would have been a breeze if I had actually been sitting. I stood next to a horn player from the Philharmonic. It would have been nice if there were an intermission so we could continue our conversation. I can't remember his name, but I'd recognize it if I saw it in a Philharmonic program. He hadn't bought a seat because he was in Europe while most of the tickets were on sale. Nice guy from Georgia. Played a lot of Broadway shows before he came to the Philharmonic. I expressed regret that he probably didn't get a chance to play Siegfried's horn calls at the Philharmonic, but he said he occasionally played them in excerpts and he couldn't handle the Met Orchestra's hours. He had the aisle place (which I thought I had) and moved away to stand where he could look down the stairs, so I had a bit of room to move in the stuffed-to-the-gills space.

Ironically enough, after the performance the Met elevators were having problems and wouldn't go down to the concourse where the subway was - they kept going up once it hit orchestra level. Someone from the safety office had to override them. And one was apparently stuck on the Grand Tier (with no one in it, baruch Hashem!) for the whole performance. You can build Valhalla, but you can't get out of it?

Oh, I now have a craving for Golden Delicious apples. We now know what happens when we don't eat our fruit...

Afterwards, I tweeted actor Nathan Fillion (best known for his collaborations with Joss Whedon, especially Firefly) to ask if set designer Carl Fillion was related to him, as I imagine it's not a terribly common name, but since Nathan has tens of thousands of followers and I'm not one of them, he may not have noticed it (or found it interesting). I also thought about tweeting Owens to congratulate him on his performance, but I don't think he's on Twitter - although there are at least 20 other Eric Owenses there, nearly all Caucasian.

Hopefully, I should be able to add some pictures onto this post this weekend.

I'll end with the following: A few years ago there was an article in Opera News about suggestions for making very long operas shorter. The winner was:

RHINEMAIDENS: Give us back our gold!

ALBERICH: Okay! (11)

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(1) Or as Wagner himself put it, “poem”

(2) The universe, by the way, actually does "make music" - on a frequency about 64 octaves below middle C, As in Parshat Bereishit, the “action” moves immediately from the Creation to the doings of mortals, which in the end are what the story is really about. Take that, fundamentalists who interpret the first few verses of Genesis literally! Note I said “mortals” because compared to G-d, the Norse/German deities are indeed mortals (one of the reasons I put quotes around "gods" in the post title). There are also some Jewish sources that say G-d sang, rather than spoke, the universe into being.

(3) The Rigoletto in question was a Chinese baritone named Xiaoping Dai, who I remember primarily because he kept making circular movements with his right arm that looked like he was winding up for a baseball pitch, and his very strong physical resemblance to Chinese-American character actor Jack Soo, best known for playing Sammy Fong in the film of Flower Drum Song and a memorable turn on The Odd Couple as a Chinese baseball player - he and his girlfriend bring Felix and Oscar "food that Chinese like", and Felix is overjoyed because he's going to eat "real" Chinese food as opposed to Chinese-American food. To Felix's and Oscar's shock, the ball player removes lox and bagels from the bag: "This is the 'food that Chinese like'?" "Are you kidding? I love Italian food!"

(4) I’m thinking of a picture I saw from a production of an opera called Der Templer und Die Jüdin by Heinrich Marschner, based on Ivanhoe, which nonetheless had Bois-Guilbert in a Nazi uniform. Actually, an opera based on Ivanhoe is interesting as George Sanders, who played Bois-Guilbert in the film, had one of the most beautiful speaking voices I’ve ever heard and actually was offered Scarpia by a West Coast opera company…

(5) Remember how spectacular the Mines of Moria looked in the The Fellowship of The Ring film? That was a civilization!

(6) Both absolutely delightful, by the way, especially the Wallace and Gromit short. And I now want to eat some Turkish food, which I don't think I've had for years, if ever. It's one of the world's great cuisines and I intend to visit Turkey one of these years. Probably should have tried one of the restaurants around the Met.

(7) It’s also a pity that Dwayne’s wife, soprano Ainhoa Arteta (gone for several years, presumably to be a mom) seems to be cast at the Met exclusively as Musetta. I’ve seen her Musetta at least 4 times. I’m getting bored – I want to hear her do something else – how about Susanna or Despina?

(8) I feel sorry for any soprano who can otherwise sing Leonore in Fidelio but can't handle really tall ladders, as the Met's production requires her to use one to climb into Florestan's dungeon.

(9) I don't know if it's still in print, but you might want to search out Sequentia's wonderful recording Edda (my copy, alas, is damaged), which is Icelandic music from roughly the 12th Century, based on much of the same themes. You could call it the original Ring Cycle. And Tolkien fans will be delighted to know that one of the songs lists Gandalf, Fili, Kili, Bombur, et. al. These myths are Tolkien's principle source as well.

(10) Bryn Terfel has said more than once that he would like to play Hagrid in an operatic version of Harry Potter - "Oh yes! I am Hagrid! Hagrid is me!" Of course, my priority is for him to appear in Doctor Who, which is of course filmed in Wales. He's a far better choice than fellow Wales native and occasional singing partner Katherine Jenkins, who will be in the upcoming Christmas Special, probably as the equivalent of Fan Scrooge. Then again, if producer Steven Moffat thinks Jenkins is an "opera diva" (even she doesn't call herself that), he probably has no idea who Bryn is!

(11) Might actually work if it was Mercedes Lackey's version of Alberich!