This performance marks my fifth opera attended in seven days. Even for someone who likes opera as much as I do, that's a bit much.
So, a moratorium on opera for me. No more opera attendance for one week. That'll show me.
So, Madama Butterfly. According to OPERA America's research, it is the most-frequently performed opera in the USA. It's also the most widely performed opera with American characters, although I doubt if patriotism is the reason for its popularity, as we don't come out of it looking all that well.
I've actually gone many years myself since I last saw Butterfly in the theatre. Not that I'm actively avoiding it, like I do Tosca. But I don't go out of my way to watch it.
San Francisco's current production of the opera is a revival of the well-known Harold Prince production. This production's (staged by Jose Maria Condemi) main conceit is the use of kuroko: the "invisible" stagehands dressed in black in full view of the audience. Additionally, the set (designer Clarke Dunham) is cleverly placed on a rotating stage, adding to the illusion that the opera is being performed in a house on a hill outside Nagasaki.
Kate Pinkerton actually comes off a bit more sympathetic than usual in this production, although B. F. is still a colossal jerk.
The Butterfly for this performance was Daniela Dessi, currently one of the top sopranos in this world in this particular repertoire. Early on in the opera, it sounded as though she were husbanding her resources--her entrance aria sounded rather tentative, though the love duet with Pinkerton was all right. "Un bel di" sounded a bit on the wan side, though "Che tua madre" and her death scene were very powerful.
Stefano Secco, heard last June as Gounod's Faust, was Pinkerton. He certainly sang all of Pinkerton's notes and portrayed his callow nature well, though the sound of his voice was a little thin to my taste. Daveda Karanas was a warm, ingratiating Suzuki, while Quinn Kelsey was a richly-sung, avuncular Sharpless.
The orchestra was conducted by Julian Kovatchev, a Bulgarian maestro making his debut in this production. The orchestra sounded just fine to me, particularly the one key moment for me: near the end, when Butterfly commands Suzuki to go outside and play with the child, there is a suddent, almost shocking orchestra fortissimo. Maestro Kovatchev sold that moment as well as I've ever heard it. The offstage chanting of the sailors during the Act II, Scene 2 Entr'acte was much quieter than I like, but that's purely a matter of personal taste.
The program notes reveal that he will be conducting this opera in Seattle (Seattle's next season hasn't been officially announced yet, but Butterfly is an easy guess, as it hasn't been performed there for a decade), so I guess I'll be hearing from him again soon.
Showing posts with label San Francisco Opera. Show all posts
Showing posts with label San Francisco Opera. Show all posts
Friday, November 12, 2010
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
The Makropulos Case (San Francisco Opera), November 10
Honestly, there's not a whole lot of genre operas. The vast majority are tragedies (often very melodramatic ones) or comedies (usually very farcical ones). There are some historical dramas, some fairytales, a tiny handful of horror stories... and believe it or not, some science fiction.
The Makropulos Case by Leos Janacek is probably the greatest of all Science Fiction operas. The work originated with one of the fathers of science fiction, Karel Capek, best-known today for taking the Czech word "robot" and applying it to mechanical men in his play R.U.R. In The Makropulos Case, Capek explored the practicalities of immortality and a fountain of youth. The original play was a comedy (and there are plenty of humorous moments in the opera), but while the original play had Emilia Marty/Elena Makropulos laugh off the destruction of the Makropulos formula and go to live off whatever years she had remaining as a regular mortal, Janacek devised a grander, a more operatic conclusion to the story: Emilia's death is a regular coup de theatre.
San Francisco Opera is a leading exponent of Janacek's opera, having staged the American premiere of the work in 1966, with major revivals in 1976 and 1993. San Francisco's Emilias have been Marie Collier, Anja Silja and Stephanie Sundine.
And now add Karita Mattila to the list. Miss Mattila has had an amazing career, from her victory at the first ever Cardiff Singer of the World competition in 1983. Now a veteran soprano, she has left behind many of the lyrical roles of her earlier career for more dramatic ones, particularly in the works of Strauss and Janacek. The Makropulos Case is Miss Mattila's third Janacek opera, and it's probably the right time in her career for it. The role requires a singer of some gravitas and experience (not to mention charisma), but also a singer with undiminished vocal agility, particularly for the high tessitura of her final scene.
I imagine that she will be singing the role everywhere in the near future. It suits her vocally, and it gives her a chance to be glamorous in a way that few operatic roles do.
In face, she will almost certainly be singing in this production again in the future: the new production was co-produced with the National Opera of her native Finland. Director Olivier Tambosi added some interesting touches to the staging: there were implications early on that Emilia can tell that her death is near--that there is something obviously wrong with her body. In a touch that I didn't particularly care for, in Act 2, she rolled around on the ground with Hauk-Sendorf. Yes, sure, he's one of her few good memories, but what's she trying to do, give the guy a heart attack?
Frank Philipp Schlossmann, the designer, set each of the three acts to one side of the rotating stage--the main feature on each set was a giant clock (incidentally, the clocks were set to the (correct) current local time). The law office featured huge bookshelves on a gleaming steel wall (I did get nervous as Vitek climbed up the ladder and sang--it was in exactly that position that Richard Versalle died onstage while singing the role of Vitek at the Met premiere of Makropulos in 1996). The second act featured some chairs and a dressing table in front of a black and silver curtain. The third act set consited of a bed at the foot of a curving corridor--the whole set looking like a pen and ink drawing featuring a lot of hatching.
The costumes were quite elegant, particularly Miss Mattila's. Her Act 1 and 3 dresses were diva-worthy. Oddly, in Act 2, she was costumed as Pierrot, which made me think that you could cast most of Lulu using the Makropulos cast: Emilia as Lulu, Gregor as the Painter, Prus as Dr. Schon, Kolenaty as Schigolch and Janek as Alwa. Although that leaves out Vitek and Krista, and who will be Geschwitz. But that's just silly talk.
Onto the singing: Mattila singing was strong and secure throughout, with her trademark lush tone. She's the rare diva who is a great artist who sings beautifully always. Gerd Grochowski, Baron Prus, while not particularly distinctive of voice, did present a menacing, dramatic figure throughout. It really would be interesing to hear his Dr. Schon. Miro Dvorsky sang Albert Gregor with a rather plaintive, character tenor sort of voice. Dale Travis as Dr. Kolenaty had one of the more difficult assignments in the opera: he has huge amounts of text to sing in not very much time. Though there's little chance for lyric beauty in the role, he did at least not bark.
Jiri Belohlavek coaxed some lovely string playing from the San Francisco Opera orchestra. I imagine that several of the instrumentalists are veterans from the last time the opera was produced, when the orchestra was conducted by the late Sir Charles Mackerras, well-known as a Janacek expert, in whose memory the new production was dedicated.
The Makropulos Case by Leos Janacek is probably the greatest of all Science Fiction operas. The work originated with one of the fathers of science fiction, Karel Capek, best-known today for taking the Czech word "robot" and applying it to mechanical men in his play R.U.R. In The Makropulos Case, Capek explored the practicalities of immortality and a fountain of youth. The original play was a comedy (and there are plenty of humorous moments in the opera), but while the original play had Emilia Marty/Elena Makropulos laugh off the destruction of the Makropulos formula and go to live off whatever years she had remaining as a regular mortal, Janacek devised a grander, a more operatic conclusion to the story: Emilia's death is a regular coup de theatre.
San Francisco Opera is a leading exponent of Janacek's opera, having staged the American premiere of the work in 1966, with major revivals in 1976 and 1993. San Francisco's Emilias have been Marie Collier, Anja Silja and Stephanie Sundine.
And now add Karita Mattila to the list. Miss Mattila has had an amazing career, from her victory at the first ever Cardiff Singer of the World competition in 1983. Now a veteran soprano, she has left behind many of the lyrical roles of her earlier career for more dramatic ones, particularly in the works of Strauss and Janacek. The Makropulos Case is Miss Mattila's third Janacek opera, and it's probably the right time in her career for it. The role requires a singer of some gravitas and experience (not to mention charisma), but also a singer with undiminished vocal agility, particularly for the high tessitura of her final scene.
I imagine that she will be singing the role everywhere in the near future. It suits her vocally, and it gives her a chance to be glamorous in a way that few operatic roles do.
In face, she will almost certainly be singing in this production again in the future: the new production was co-produced with the National Opera of her native Finland. Director Olivier Tambosi added some interesting touches to the staging: there were implications early on that Emilia can tell that her death is near--that there is something obviously wrong with her body. In a touch that I didn't particularly care for, in Act 2, she rolled around on the ground with Hauk-Sendorf. Yes, sure, he's one of her few good memories, but what's she trying to do, give the guy a heart attack?
Frank Philipp Schlossmann, the designer, set each of the three acts to one side of the rotating stage--the main feature on each set was a giant clock (incidentally, the clocks were set to the (correct) current local time). The law office featured huge bookshelves on a gleaming steel wall (I did get nervous as Vitek climbed up the ladder and sang--it was in exactly that position that Richard Versalle died onstage while singing the role of Vitek at the Met premiere of Makropulos in 1996). The second act featured some chairs and a dressing table in front of a black and silver curtain. The third act set consited of a bed at the foot of a curving corridor--the whole set looking like a pen and ink drawing featuring a lot of hatching.
The costumes were quite elegant, particularly Miss Mattila's. Her Act 1 and 3 dresses were diva-worthy. Oddly, in Act 2, she was costumed as Pierrot, which made me think that you could cast most of Lulu using the Makropulos cast: Emilia as Lulu, Gregor as the Painter, Prus as Dr. Schon, Kolenaty as Schigolch and Janek as Alwa. Although that leaves out Vitek and Krista, and who will be Geschwitz. But that's just silly talk.
Onto the singing: Mattila singing was strong and secure throughout, with her trademark lush tone. She's the rare diva who is a great artist who sings beautifully always. Gerd Grochowski, Baron Prus, while not particularly distinctive of voice, did present a menacing, dramatic figure throughout. It really would be interesing to hear his Dr. Schon. Miro Dvorsky sang Albert Gregor with a rather plaintive, character tenor sort of voice. Dale Travis as Dr. Kolenaty had one of the more difficult assignments in the opera: he has huge amounts of text to sing in not very much time. Though there's little chance for lyric beauty in the role, he did at least not bark.
Jiri Belohlavek coaxed some lovely string playing from the San Francisco Opera orchestra. I imagine that several of the instrumentalists are veterans from the last time the opera was produced, when the orchestra was conducted by the late Sir Charles Mackerras, well-known as a Janacek expert, in whose memory the new production was dedicated.
Cyrano de Bergerac (San Francisco Opera), November 9
Time for me to wax nostalgic. Fortunately, I received a case of Nostalgia Wax for my most recent birthday.
December 1990 was when I first attended the opera: that means I am just shy of having my 20th anniversary as a full-fledged opera fan.
1990, you'll remember, was also the year that a famous concert took place at the Baths of Caracalla, Rome. While the "Three Tenors" concerts would eventually turn practically into self-parody, the original concert featured some fine singing, and good-natured camaraderie between Luciano Pavarotti, Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo.
At the time, I had heard of all three singers before, but assumed that, since he was the most famous, Pavarotti had to be the best. However, after watching the tape time and time again, I realized that Domingo, with his rich, almost baritonal tenor, was my favorite of the three.
Twenty years later: Pavarotti has passed away. Carreras is still singing, although I haven't heard of him performing on stage. And Domingo is still going strong. Lucky for me, because, although I've heard him in recording after recording, broadcast after broadcast, video after video... I never was able to see him perform in person.
However, I was very happy to learn that San Francisco Opera's Fall 2010 season would include Maestro Domingo, for the first time since 1994, in the title role of Cyrano de Bergerac. And so I finally got my chance to hear my favorite living tenor.
Now Cyrano is not a commonly-performed opera--at least, it wasn't until about five years ago or so. Premiered in 1935, it was almost totally forgotten until Domingo started persuading opera companies to stage it. And Domingo is maybe the one singer in the world who has enough clout, box-office and otherwise, to have works staged for him.
Franco Alfano, the composer, is best-known for his usually-excerpted completion of Turandot, though he composer a number of other operas, notably Risurrezione and La legenda de Sakuntala. Alfano composes in a refined, chromatic idiom that seems more indebted to Massenet than to Puccini. Appropriate then that Alfano should take a French subject, with a French libretto, and a librettist, Henri Cain, who also provided several libretti for Massenet. The opera is a straightforward adaptation of Rostand's play, though with much of the detail removed.
San Francisco Opera's production of the opera was originally staged by the Theatre du Chatelet in Paris, and very lavishly too, it would seem (sets by Petrika Ionesco). The first act, set backstage in a theatre presents a theatre with wonderful 17th-century stage equipment and costumes, while Ragueneau’s bake shop in the second act is equally as opulent. Spectacular cavalier costumes all around: the opera looked great (costumes by Lili Kendaka).
The staging, also by Petrika Ionesco, was a bit confusing at times: it was easy to mix characters up (Anthony Burgess had the right idea when he fused Carbon and Le Bret into a single character. Still, the staging of the two key scenes--the balcony scene and Cyrano's death--were simple and effective.
And with the singers, starting at the top: this is a great role for Placido Domingo, which suits his voice and theatrical temperament perfectly. Even twenty years ago, he had some trouble with the high notes: Cyrano has a lower tessitura and shows off his golden tone and mastery of legato. He also did a fine job acting the role of the emotionally fragile swordsman.
Soprano Ainhoa Arteta who, it could be said, was a Domingo discovery, was the lovely Roxane, singing with a strong spinto soprano. Christian is a tenor in this opera (it makes sense--otherwise, in the balcony scene, how could Roxane believe that Cyrano is Christian?) Christian was played by Thiago Arancam: well-cast in that he cut a handsome figure onstage and because his tenor has some of the same rich, baritonal qualities as Domingo's.
Of the large remaining cast, the one singer who made the biggest impression was Stephen Powell as De Guiche. Powell was convincing as a truly nasty villain as well as his change of heart late in the third act. He has a fine baritone. The conductor, making his San Francisco debut in this production was Patrick Fournillier.
December 1990 was when I first attended the opera: that means I am just shy of having my 20th anniversary as a full-fledged opera fan.
1990, you'll remember, was also the year that a famous concert took place at the Baths of Caracalla, Rome. While the "Three Tenors" concerts would eventually turn practically into self-parody, the original concert featured some fine singing, and good-natured camaraderie between Luciano Pavarotti, Jose Carreras and Placido Domingo.
At the time, I had heard of all three singers before, but assumed that, since he was the most famous, Pavarotti had to be the best. However, after watching the tape time and time again, I realized that Domingo, with his rich, almost baritonal tenor, was my favorite of the three.
Twenty years later: Pavarotti has passed away. Carreras is still singing, although I haven't heard of him performing on stage. And Domingo is still going strong. Lucky for me, because, although I've heard him in recording after recording, broadcast after broadcast, video after video... I never was able to see him perform in person.
However, I was very happy to learn that San Francisco Opera's Fall 2010 season would include Maestro Domingo, for the first time since 1994, in the title role of Cyrano de Bergerac. And so I finally got my chance to hear my favorite living tenor.
Now Cyrano is not a commonly-performed opera--at least, it wasn't until about five years ago or so. Premiered in 1935, it was almost totally forgotten until Domingo started persuading opera companies to stage it. And Domingo is maybe the one singer in the world who has enough clout, box-office and otherwise, to have works staged for him.
Franco Alfano, the composer, is best-known for his usually-excerpted completion of Turandot, though he composer a number of other operas, notably Risurrezione and La legenda de Sakuntala. Alfano composes in a refined, chromatic idiom that seems more indebted to Massenet than to Puccini. Appropriate then that Alfano should take a French subject, with a French libretto, and a librettist, Henri Cain, who also provided several libretti for Massenet. The opera is a straightforward adaptation of Rostand's play, though with much of the detail removed.
San Francisco Opera's production of the opera was originally staged by the Theatre du Chatelet in Paris, and very lavishly too, it would seem (sets by Petrika Ionesco). The first act, set backstage in a theatre presents a theatre with wonderful 17th-century stage equipment and costumes, while Ragueneau’s bake shop in the second act is equally as opulent. Spectacular cavalier costumes all around: the opera looked great (costumes by Lili Kendaka).
The staging, also by Petrika Ionesco, was a bit confusing at times: it was easy to mix characters up (Anthony Burgess had the right idea when he fused Carbon and Le Bret into a single character. Still, the staging of the two key scenes--the balcony scene and Cyrano's death--were simple and effective.
And with the singers, starting at the top: this is a great role for Placido Domingo, which suits his voice and theatrical temperament perfectly. Even twenty years ago, he had some trouble with the high notes: Cyrano has a lower tessitura and shows off his golden tone and mastery of legato. He also did a fine job acting the role of the emotionally fragile swordsman.
Soprano Ainhoa Arteta who, it could be said, was a Domingo discovery, was the lovely Roxane, singing with a strong spinto soprano. Christian is a tenor in this opera (it makes sense--otherwise, in the balcony scene, how could Roxane believe that Cyrano is Christian?) Christian was played by Thiago Arancam: well-cast in that he cut a handsome figure onstage and because his tenor has some of the same rich, baritonal qualities as Domingo's.
Of the large remaining cast, the one singer who made the biggest impression was Stephen Powell as De Guiche. Powell was convincing as a truly nasty villain as well as his change of heart late in the third act. He has a fine baritone. The conductor, making his San Francisco debut in this production was Patrick Fournillier.
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