Verdi Don Carlo Royal Opera House London

Is it possible to upstage Jonas Kaufmann? Kaufmann was brilliant in this Verdi Don Carlo at the Royal Opera House, London, but the rest of the cast was so good that he was but first among equals. Don Carlo is a vehicle for stars, but this time the stars were everyone on stage and in the pit. Even the solo arias, glorious as they are, grow organically out of perfect ensemble. This was a performance that brought out the true beauty of Verdi's music.

Act One started a little tentatively. Perhaps it takes time for the drama to unfold and Kaufmann knew how much was yet to come. His pacing was deft: when he needed to stun, his voice rang out with ferocious colour. This was a Don Carlo one could imagine defying the Spanish Empire, its violence and tyranny. His vocal authority was matched by physical energy. Kaufmann embodies the part perfectly. His interactions were outstanding. His voice balances well with Anja Harteros (Elisabetta) and Mariusz Kwiecień (Rodrigo), and he allowed the duets and trios to work seamlessly. No big name ego dominance.
 
Verdi  prepares us from the start for the turbulence that will meet Elizabeth of Valois. Even before she leaves home, Elisabetta experiences extreme changes of mood within a compressed period of time. Anja Harteros delineates these intense feelings deftly, without exaggeration, so they arise naturally from her singing.  When she bids goodbye to the Countess of Aremberg (Elizabeth Woods), Harteros sings as though she were bidding farewell to life itself.  Indeed she is, for Elisabetta is now alone, trapped in an alien world. Harteros creates Elisabetta with such conviction that she dominates the drama even when she is silent. Her presence is felt even when others are singing about her. When Harteros sings "Tu che le vanità", we feel that Elisabetta has reached valediction, after a long and tortured journey. She sings of Fontainebleau and her brief day of happiness so tenderly that the agony of "Addio, addio, bei sogni d' or, illusion perduta!" becomes truly overwhelming. Harteros and Kaufmann have taken these roles before together. Here, in London, they achieved transcendence.

Ferruccio Furlanetto was equally outstanding as Philip II. His years of experience in the part give him authority. Verdi writes the part to reflect the personal austerity for which the historical Philip II was known. A solo cello introduces his big aria "Ella giammai m'amò", emphasizing the King's loneliness., despite the trappings of wealth and power around him. Later, violas and basses extend the mood of melancholy. Furlanetto sings with force, but with colour and tenderness. Because he makes us feel the man beneath the public persona, we realize that the tragedy involves Philip as well as his wife and son. Furlanetto makes us realize that the king is just as much trapped by the system as they are. "Beware the Grand Inqusitor!" he cries, for the Grand Inquisitor is perhaps the only truly evil character in this opera.

Verdi introduces the Grand Inquisitor with music that exudes menace. Slow, low rumbling sounds, suggesting a snake slithering, oozing poisonous slime. Eric Halfvarson was indisposed with a cold, but this didn't affect his singing. The Grand Inquisitor is supposed to sound diseased.  "Did God not give his only Son to save the world ?". Theology is twisted for evil purposes.

Mariusz Kwiecień  was a clean voiced, muscular Rodrigo, and a perfect complement to Kaufmann's Don Carlo. The dynamic between them is very good: they're both relatively youthful and fresh. This similarity is important, for it reinforces the tragedy, and the theme of sacrifice. When  Kwiecień sings Rodrigo's last aria, "Per me giunto è il di supreme", he infuses it with warmth and love, so it connects with Elisabetta's farewell to life.

One of Béatrice Uria-Monzon's signature roles is Carmen, so when she sang the Pricess of Eboli, she brought a Carmen-like sharpness to the role, which was entirely in order. Her Veil Song was a showpiece, but the song is a mask, since the princess's true feelings are also hidden behind a veil. When she realizes her mistakes, her personality disintegrates. When  Uria-Monzon sings of the convent, she suggests the horror of living death.

Dusica Bijelic sang a sprightly Tebaldo. Even the Flemish Deputies made an impact greater than the size of their parts: extremely tight ensemble, yet individually characterized. Robert Lloyd sang the apparition of Carlo V credibly. The Royal Opera House Orchestra and chorus, always excellent, were on even better form than usual.  Verdi is Antomio Pappano's great strength. He's inspired towards a highly individual but vivid reading which emphasizes dramatic detail. He's also a singer's conductor, who lets voices breath, as we heard so admirably.

This would have been an almost perfect Verdi Don Carlo, but is lamentably let down by the production. Originally directed by Nicholas Hytner and revived this time by Paul Higgins, it was first seen at the Royal Opera House in 2008.  The designs (by Bob Crowley) feel outdated, serving little dramatic purpose. Huge expanses of space are filled with grids of holes. Perhaps these represent windows, walls or even the spying eyes that are ever present in tyrannical regimes. If the image had been developed well,  it might have enhanced the paranoia that runs through this opera. Instead, the image lies inert,  like a weak joke endlessly repeated.  In the scene where the ladies of the court listen to the Veil Song, there's a wall of red plastic cubes which look like they've descended from Legoland for no obvious reason. 
 
The greatest weakness of this Don Carlo was that the staging missed the deeper, more challenging levels of the opera.  The monastery of Yuste is depicted by the tomb of Charles V with the name "Carlos" engraved in huge letters so they can't possibly be missed.  Charles V, the Holy Roman Emperor, renounced his power and retreated into the monastery where he died ten years before the Revolt of the Netherlands.

Opera isn't history. But when a composer like Verdi adapts history for art, there is a reason. In this production, the political aspects of the story are downplayed. Even the asceticism of Charles V and Philip II is sacrificed to decorative imperative, although the words " addio, bei sogni d' or, illusion perduta!" pertain to more than Elisabetta. This is the kind of production that gives modern staging a bad reputation. Yet because it's comic book cute, it's probably popular. Staging is much more than decor. Like every other element in a production, it should contribute to meaning and drama, rather than distract. A cast of this exceptional quality deserved better.

A longer version of this review with full cast details will appear in Opera Today. 
 Photos : Catherine Ashmore, courtesy Royal Opera House

New Mariinsky II Theatre Gala Opening

The new Mariinsky Theatre, or Mariinsky II, St Petersburg, looks fantastic. It sounds fantastic too.

The design concept is so innovative that you should read the architectural specs. Here's a link with lots of photos to Diamond Schmitt Architects site.  More details on the Mariinsky site here. The new building is integrated into the historic urban landscape of the city. There's a rooftop ampitheatre with views across St Petersburg. The old building remains, linked to the new over a canal. Jack Diamond, the architect, says "we have used the elements of the old architecture, which are a masonry base and a metal roof. Instead of a classical portico, we have used great structural glass bay-windows......The public areas have an exuberance and a fun because going to the opera house today is, in a sense, in competition with people who can watch it on television, see it on their computer screen, can have videos and play them at will. The difference is that going to an event is a gregarious activity. And I often think that before the show begins, and during intermission, it is not the musicians who are the performers, it is the audience."

Anything new is bound to enrage but from what we've seen so far, the building is strikingly beautiful. The whole structure seems to glow with light and transparency.  How moth eaten and oppressive the red and gold trappings of traditional theatre seem in comparison! Now the focus is on performance, not performance space. The acoustic is breathtaking. It must be balm to sit and listen in a theatre like this, purpose built for music. Yet references to the past abound, blending clean modern elegance with references to theatre history and Russian culture in particular. The Opening Gala shows a backdrop of the "old" theatre with its Imperial Box.  A group of schoolchildren sing the Ave Maria, their young voices ringing out pure and clear: past, present and future unite in a single image.

Simplicity and extrvagance combine. A solo piano demonstrates the glorious acoustic. Then the stage explodes in a gorgeous tableaux: the opening scene of Boris Gudonov, bells ringing triumphantly. The Boyars, priests and Imperial retinue emerge from the crowd of massed peasants. A moment of sheer theatre! Yet there's no heaviness in this staging.The singing shines, not the costumes, though they're suitably "historic". Naturally, there's a political element to the opening of an extremely important new house like the Mariinsky, funded completely by the state. Yet Vladimir Putin is seen sitting in the orchestra stalls. Perhaps this is shrewd. On the other hand, it says much about the role of cultural heritage in Russia. Does art transcend petty concerns? One should sincerely hope so. The men of the Mariinsky chorus emerge from a backdrop showing the Tsar's box. They look like mafia in their dinner jackets, but the sound of their singing connects to the past, distant and not so  distant.

The new Mariinsky opens out internally, too. Although much has been written about the public face of the building, what's intriguing to theatre people is the backstage technology. This, too, must be state of the art, if the Opening Gala is anything to go by. The Mariinsky Ballet are shown dancing Balanchine against a pristine backdrop that suggests a dance studio. The backdrop them morphs into page after page of "etchings" evoking ballets past. Almost miraculously as the music turns to Carmen, the backdrop transforms into full, naturalistic colour.  Later, the Rite of Spring is recreated in Nicolas Roerich's designs and elements of Diaghilev's choreography. A "curtain" of light descends, and René Pape appears, singing Mefistofele.  This is projection technology at its finest, suggesting new possibilities, just as the advent of electric light did 100 years ago. Vivid changes of scene happen in an instant : no clunky machinery, no interruptions to dramatic flow.

Plácido Domingo sings Winterstürme wichen dem Wonnemond. His voice isn't what it was but who cares? Everyone loves him, and rightly so. Later, he takes over from Valéry Gergiev at the podium, and sings along from the pit. Anna Netrebko feigns surprise, but we all know she's in on the joke. Netrebko steals the entire show, singing almost non-stop for the last half an hour of the gala, often solo. Netrebko is in superb form: this evening will be one of the great memories of her life. Putin applauds with a grimace, but who cares? Gergiev, the Birthday Boy, throws his arms around her and kisses her. Surrounded by Pape, Domingo, Nikitin, pretty much the whole company, chorus and ballet, Netrebko is absolutely radiant. The girl from Krasnodar will forever be associated with the new Mariinsky.  Watch the full broadcast here, it's superb, and extremely well filmed. Beats the Bolshoi opening gala by leagues.

Deanna Durbin EXCLUSIVE personal tribute

"How many child-prodigy artists or entertainers fulfil their youthful promise, pull out of the public eye entirely by their late twenties of their own volition, and are still remembered fondly—by millions—more than six decades later?"

Here is a beautifully written tribute from one singer to another, written by Danielle Woerner, my friend.

 "Deanna Durbin died earlier this week. She was 91, and though she committed her last film to celluloid in 1948, the singer-actress wasn’t forgotten. The darling of Depression-era and 1940s Hollywood, Durbin kept Universal Pictures afloat; and by 1947, at the age of 26, she’d surpassed even Bette Davis as the highest-salaried woman in America.

Unlike Davis, though, Durbin’s characters were never permitted to mature along with the woman who played them. She was typecast as the “plucky” (NY Times obit) young lady who was always able to save the inept adults around her from ruin--often with the help of friends from the less ritzy rungs of the social ladder. (Hayley Mills would take on that can-do girl-next-door role for a while in the early 1960s.) Though Deanna’s singing voice was mature and full for her age, even at 13 when she started in pictures, neither the studio nor her audiences accepted her as anything but a stock ingénue as she herself matured, and the gravity of World War II ruptured our sense of innocence. This was one of the frustrations that caused Durbin to choose retirement in the French countryside (with her third husband, director Charles David) over the “goldfish bowl” she had endured in the film industry. Before she was 30, yet. Since she was brought to Hollywood when just a year old, singing children’s songs by the time she could talk, perhaps that qualifies as one lifetime already.

I was both saddened to hear of her passing this week, and a little surprised she had still been with us. Her self-imposed private exile had worked well. But the obituaries and wikipedia are full of her life’s details. To me, as a singer-actress, what was so special about Durbin was not just the maturity and richness of her voice and technique even in her teens; the naturalness of her acting in 21 movies (they did call them “movies” when she made ‘em); the number of fans she gathered around the world. It was the enduring emotional connection she created with those who watched her in black & white, and listened to her recordings—not only at the time they were made, but for decades after she’d exited the scene. Though ”purity” is often used to describe her, that’s a gloss. Her naturalness was grounded in a quality older and deeper than her years. And she played an iconic role, much bigger than the girl next door. 

 My first exposure to Durbin was in the mid-’80s, when I stumbled upon One Hundred Men and a Girl on the late-night movie, probably Channel 11, in New York City. I was a young classical/operatic soprano, and of course had heard of her—a name always uttered with fondness, it seemed. The 1937 comedy was a sweet predictable story: Durbin persuades world-famous conductor Leopold Stokowski (playing himself) to conduct an orchestra of 100 unemployed musicians, including her trombonist father, portrayed by Adolphe Menjou. The moment when she began singing the Mozart “Alleluia” from the first tier box of the concert hall, walking downstairs and to the foot of the stage as she sang, was etched in my mind as a kind of artistic heroism—albeit chutzpah, in the real world of the music business. Only in the movies. My father, a professional bass soloist in Philadelphia, had worked with Stokowski during the latter’s fitful tenure as conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra. My childhood included stories of the chimerical, moody Leopold: how he’d pass Dad on the street one day, turning his face away as if he didn’t know him, and the next day would grab Dad by the arm, greet him like a long-lost brother and wonder aloud why Dad had been about to walk by without saying hello. Watching the scene in the movie, I knew Stokowski wasn’t always that lamb in the script who indulgently greeted the young upstart soprano co-opting his rehearsal.

As it happened, a few months after seeing the film, I was late for a rehearsal (another stalled subway train!) at historic Trinity Church in lower Manhattan. As I hurried into the dimly lit sanctuary, I could hear the motet that included my solo already starting overhead. I dashed up the stone stairs to the choir loft just in time to begin singing my part, right on cue. The director—also indulgent—teased me later about my “Deanna Durbin moment.” Thanks to Channel 11, I knew exactly what he meant. The Deanna Durbin moment. The moment when beautiful music, artfully and heartfully executed (OK, ok, by a solo soprano), saves the day for everyone. We could use more such moments, couldn’t we?

Bless you, Deanna. Even if you outgrew the part."

 Danielle Woernerhttp://daniellewoerner.com 

This lovely tribute ties in with another personal remembrance of Deanna Durbin. Five years ago, I was at the Cadogan Hall, where José Serebrier was being interviewed by Edward Seckerson before conducting a concert. The discussion turned to Stokowski, who was Serebrier's mentor and close friend. A lady in the audience stood up to add some words. She must have been in her mid 80's but she was tall, straight and elegant, silver hair immaculately coiffed. She wore expensive slacks and a silk shirt. Quietly, she added, "I knew Stokowski too. I am Deanna Durbin".

Powerhouse ENO 2013/14 season analyzed

The Powerhouse fights back! ENO's 2013/14 season suggests we're back to the days when the ENO was London's edgiest opera house. Ten productions new to London next year- that's around one every three weeks. How can they manage that? By linking up with the liveliest houses in Europe, and bringing in the sharpest talent. This is the kind of creative vision that could kickstart a new Powerhouse era.

One huge coup - Pierre Audi! Audi returns at last to London  after 30 years. This is major news because Audi transformed British theatre in the 1980's with the Almeida Theatre. A whole generation has grown up not realizing how radical the Almeida years were, and how it sparked off the ENO's finest years. Peter Brook, David Hare, Harrison Birtwistle, Mark-Anthony Turnage, Steve Reich, the London Sinfonietta: everybody but everybody was part of the buzz. Audi went on to run De Nederlandse Oper,  and later The Holland Festival. His 1999 Amsterdam Wagner Ring is still one of the most striking productions ever. Amsterdam is one of the most exciting music places in Europe and admirably managed, too.

Audi is directing the world premiere of Julian Anderson's Thebans, a saga based on Greek tragedy with a libretto by Frank McGuiness. A brief piece from the Thebans, "Harmony" will be the first item on the First Night of the BBC Proms 2013. Anderson was himself a singer and writes music that's very visual. Anderson's a Proms regular, both on stage and in the Arena. In May 2007, Ed Gardner conducted Anderson's Symphony at the Barbican, in his first high profile concert after being appointed ENO Music Director. So expect good things from the ENO Thebans, and book tickets early though it doesn't start until May 2014.

Here are the other new productions :

Beethoven Fidelio, (from September) directed by Calixto Bieito. whose very name strikes terror into the hearts of those who think that only they know what the composer intended. Yet those who really engage with his work realize that it is quite reasonable. Bieito's Carmen, for example, in a watered down version for British audiences, was a big box office success at the ENO -- one of the big hits of the ENO last November, (reviewed  here and here) which proves ENO audiences are smarter than the reactionary crowd think. Bieito's Fidelio  was first done in Munich in 2010 with Jonas Kaufmann. We'll get Stuart Skelton, who's good and  the production is well worth seeing. Bieito's "prison" is a labyrinth of the mind - click photo to enlarge. Despite his reputation for bums, Bieito is a very deep thinker with a strong politcial conscience, ideal for an opera like Fidelio, which is not meant to be pretty.

Johann Strauss II Die Fledermaus (from September). This is a joint production with the Canadian Opera Company. Here's a link to the COC website with many photos. It looks off the wall! But lots of fun, which arguably is what Strauss II was on about. The director is Christopher Alden, who says "Fledermaus will be fun! It’s a famous, beloved piece and not just because of the totally brilliant and inspired music or that it’s a frivolous New Year’s Eve entertainment, but it’s a wonderful story with great characters and situations.......... It has a lot to say about society, relationships and marriage".

Mozart The Magic Flute, (November) directed by Simon McBurney, whose Complicité brought us A Dog's Heart (reviewed here) which was such theatre-of-genius that the music didn't matter. With Mozart, McBurney has much more to work on. You need magic in the Magic Flute, and Complicité does magic better than most.  This is a co-production with De Nederlandse Opera, Amsterdam, and the Aix-en-Provence Festival : excellent credentials.

Verdi Rigoletto (February 2014), also a Canadian Opera Company production directed by Christopher Alden. It's set in Verdi's time, not Renaissance Mantua, but those who rage that this isn't "historical" should remember that if contemporary stagings were good enough for Shakespeare, they should be good enough for anyone else. And the Met's Las Vegas Rigoletto didn't cause the skies to fall. Another big plus on this one is Quinn Kelsey, the best of all American imports the ENO has brought us. He sang in the original, so should be well settled by the time the show reaches London.

Handel Rodelinda (February). This is major news, because it's the first product of a new relationship between the ENO and the Bolshoi. London gets first dibs. This is the first ever Handel Opera for the Bolshoi, which is quite remarkable, but they'll be getting the best:  Christian Curmyn conducts, and the cast includes John Mark Ainsley, Iestyn Davies and Rebecca Evans. Director is Richard Jones.

Mozart Cosi fan tutte (May 2014) will be done in English because it's the ENO, but not in an ordinary translation. Instead, it's a new text by poet Martin Crimp (Into the Little Hill, Written on Skin). This will be moving on to the Met in NY, which has had a partnership with the ENO for several years (Eugene Onegin and less successfully Two Boys). Ryan Wigglesworth conducts, Katie Mitchell directs.

Berlioz Benvenuto Cellini (June 2014). The ENO is making a big splash with this because it's Terry Gilliam. Presumably the Monty Python crowds will lap this up and box office receipts will clear what's left of any deficit. His Damnation of Faust was entirely based on himself, rather than the opera, the music or composer, yet was wildly popular, proving that self indulgent "Regie" is loved by the masses as long as they don't have to think or listen. .

Bizet The Pearl Fishers (June 2014). Not, strictly speaking, entirely new, but revamped to make more of the breath-taking sequences where bodies "swim" bathed in undulating blues and greens. I loved this production (directed by Penny Woolcock) first time round and would be thrilled to see it again. This time, Sophie Bevan sings Leila, so even if we don't get Quinn Kelsey again, it will be worth hearing, too.

Thomas Adès Powder Her Face (April 2014). New production, new performance space. Joe Hill-Gibbons directs this modern chamber opera classic in AMBIKA P3, a space for contemporary art at the University of Westminster, "converted from the vast former subterranean concrete hall of the School of Engineering, Baker Street". Photos show exactly that, but I can well imagine the story set in that context. The Duchess did not do worse than the men around her yet the society around her was brutal and rigid. The ENO has been using alternative performance spaces outside the Coliseum for years, and for very good reasons: some operas are better suited to smaller scale. If only the Royal Opera House could find a middle sized external theatre and retire the Linbury for all but the smallest shows! 

Jonathan Belper composer/Matthew Barney director River of Fundament. This is based on Norman Mailer's novel Ancient Evenings, describing the journey of a soul after death, a subject which probably lends itself best to a film/music theatre project.

REVIVALS ! Back by popular demand, classic and much loved productions of Philip Glass's Satyagraha (which I want to see for the fourth time), Puccini Madame Butterfly (Minghella) and  ,  Britten Peter Grimes (the luminous David Alden production and the return of Stuart Skelton))

Statistics: the ENO announced financial figures that show the company to be in better shape than the doomsayers would have.  I hope so, because the ENO is critical to the cultural good health of this country. What it does is unique. It also links London to what's happening internationally, which is good long term.. Also good news is that schemes like Opera Undressed have brought in new audiences, a large number of whom planned to come back again.  This year's new scheme is a sort of "ticket lottery" where you're guaranteed a £20 ticket (in the gods) but might get lucky and be upgraded to somewhere in the orchestra stalls (usually £100 plus).  It's a much better business model than selling tickets off for a song at the last moment, and reminds us in the audience that we can't take cheap seats for granted.

Douglas Boyd - Garsington Opera at Wormsley

 “Aim for excellence”, says Douglas Boyd, new Artistic Director of Garsington Opera at Wormsley, “and the audience will follow you”.
Wise words. With the spectacular new Pavilion, Garsington Opera is on the verge of great new things. Read the FULL INTERVIEW here in Opera Today. 

"Excellence is an ideal he learned from his earliest days as a musician, playing the oboe in Claudio Abbado’s European Community Youth Orchestra and later in the Chamber Orchestra of Europe. “Abbado has an absolutely enormous influence on me”, he adds, explaining how Abbado’s ideals shape his vision"...

“Abbado instilled into us right from the start that excellence is a fundamental to strive for. It’s not a given. Although we were young, we played each concert as if our lives depended on it. So my mantra is “dedication and energy”. When you aim for the highest possible level of excellence, then you start with a fighting chance”.

The new season at Garsington Opera at Wormsley starts on 7th June with Mozart Die Entführung aus dem Serail. This will be followed by Giacomo Rossini’s Maometto Secondo in its first full performance in this country. Garsington Opera is famous for Rossini specialities. This will be the twelfth new Rossini production staged here since 1994.  Maometto Secondo is particularly interesting, especially in modern times. Read more here. The main summer Festival concludes with Englebert Humperdinck’s Hänsel und Gretel.

For more details, please see the Garsington Opera at Wormsley website.

Arirang

"Arirang, Arirang, arariyo", Arirang, the 1,000 year old folk melody of Korea. It's  a simple tune that  lends itself to thousands of variations. It has such emotional power that it adapts to different people in different times. I can imagine it sung without accompaniment by a peasant in the mountains hundreds of years ago. Or in mass public celebrations of Korean identity. In the west, we're hung up on the dictatorship of self.  Much more organic, and beautiful, to me, the idea of a song taking on new life and being reborn with every performance. Below, three contrasting Arirangs. The first is basic pop with good scenery. The second is a more through composed artistic version with particularly wonderful words, which for me express the concept of the song. The third is a concert version of the second, with the same singer Kim Young-im and a western instrument orchestra. It's so good that it really should become part of the western classical repertoire.

What do awards ceremonies really achieve?

Why is such a fuss made of awards ceremonies? What are they really for and who do they serve? And why do they grab headlines?  Perhaps no-one dares question because awards bashes keep the mills of industry going. Just as some people are famous for no other reason than being famous, awards ceremonies exist for the purpose of making some people seem more important than they really are. Perhaps that's why there seems to be a new award organization every year. It's a licence to print money out of thin air.

Don't make the mistake of blaming the winners or nominees. Awards aren't dominated by artist agents, venues or their own PR people. They are being used just as much as us mugs the public. Awards are run by whoever thinks they can use artists to promote themselves. That's where the real money goes. We can't blame artists and managements if the want to salvage a bit of publicity. But we should learn to sniff for substance.

Anyone can create a new award and generate enough interest to get the snowball rolling. The recent International Opera Awards was brilliantly well organized, with mega high profile guests and a great party. The Olivier Awards were held in the Royal Opera House though they have little to do with opera, and were on TV. Whoever did the PR for these two events deserve awards for themselves. This is how business operates. Doing it well is genuine achievement.

So who really stands to benefit ? The International Opera Awards are aimed at "promoting excellence in opera and in providing funding through The Opera Foundation for the operatic community" and were founded by "businessman whose Nexus Group of companies has a successful record in promoting awards ceremonies in other sectors".  The Oliviers have a much longer track record, but derive their name from Laurence Olivier, who wasn't really involved.

How some awards arrive at nominations is a mystery. How can the Metropolitan Opera compete with Streetwise Opera for "accessibility", whatever that means? How could Opera Up Close win "best new production" in the Oliviers against A Dog's Heart and Adriana Lecouvreuer?  How can apples compete with pineapples, for that matter. The best that can be said is that the nominees cannot be influencing the outcome or the guys with money would win.

Nominees are good or bad on their own merits, whatever the awards might say. So how do "winners" get chosen? This year's Olivier nominations were so non-comparable that the outcome wasn't hard to guess. The Opera Awards nominations were strange because who could really choose between Terfel, Kaufmann,  Calleja or Beczala on purely artistic terms?  Perhaps it's significant that one of the categories was for "best philanthropist/sponsor" although they failed  (shock ! horror!) to mention Shell International!

The Awards Industry is a capitalist miracle. It creates its own product and market only loosely related to the real providers of creative achievement.  It doesn't reflect on reality except by accident, though the publicity generated can affect reality in the long run.  Everyone loves parties and guessing games  and no one is actually hurt, as long as no one takes artificial awards seriously. So9me awards, however, are better than others.

Schubert's offensive language

HERE is a clip from a disc recording made on 11/11/1903 of Schubert's Du bist die Ruh. The singer is Johanna Gadski.  She extends notes at the expense of line, a reminder that styles change. But read the disclaimer : "WARNING: These historical recordings may contain offensive or inappropriate language."

This disclaimer applies to all historical material in the Library of Congress some of which reflects "historical" values we don't nowadays support. But I think we can assume Schubert and Friedrich Rückert weren't contentious. A regular reader writes "Gadski was a Prussian,  who used to sing Wagner under Mahler  when he conducted in New York. She tended to get bigger billing than Mahler according to Henry-Louis de la Grange."

George Jones Country before Country was Cool

George Jones the Country singer is dead aged 81. The shock is that he lived that long. Why is it that Country stars, raised in God-fearing homes, trash their lives fuelled by alcohol?  George Jones's voice was bizarre. His legendary "twang" was the apotheosis of wild vibrato, drenching every syllable with contorted sentiment. It matched the whining wail of the slide guitar : a caricature of distortion. And yet it worked. The songs he sang weren't great classics yet the way he sang was soaked with feeling. Pickled in alcohol, perhaps. Today, everyone's singing his greatest hit with the line "He stopped loving her today/ They placed a wreath upon his door/ And soon they'll carry him away/He stopped loving her today". 

Below I've put the song that comes closest to poetry  and demonstrates "the voice" and its charms. Maybe George Jones appeals because he's so painfully sincere. Indeed, it's all the more chilling because he uses a nonchalant neutrality to sing about horrible images like police brutality. Please also read my post on Kitty Wells, The Fricka of Country, on Cajun music, the Louvin Brothers and much else

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Neo classical power : John Eliot Gardiner Stravinsky Oedipus Rex Barbican

John Eliot Gardiner marked his 70th birthday at the Barbican, London, with long-term associates the LSO and the Monteverdi Choir.

Historically informed performance is usually misunderstood, which is all the more reason why JEG's role should be celebrated. His background gives him insights that confound preconceived expectations.  His Verdi Rigoletto at the Royal Opera House (review here) brought out the turbulence in the score reached only by a conductor like JEG who knows how Renaissance music reflected turbulence and violence.

True to form, Gardiner approached Stravinsky with striking originality  Conceptually, Oedipus Rex is remarkable because it confounds expectations. Stravinsky and Jean Cocteau deliberately chose emotional distance. They cloaked the text in a dead language so the impact is indirect. Like  Greek tragedy, Oedipus Rex is stylized. . Oedipus Rex isn't opera in the popular sense of the word, but something quite unique.

Significantly, Gardiner began with Stravinsky's Apollon musagète. Like all ballets it evolves through a series of tableaux, but the structure in this case highlights something very different. Just as he shocked traditional ballet with the Rite of Spring, Stravinsky was exploring a new approach to music for dance. Apollon musagète adapts the pared down elegance of neo-classicism to the cool, clean lines of 1920's modernism.

The orchestra is strings only, limiting the palette so the refinement of form is unclouded. This music is so precise that one hardly needs visuals. The solo violin enters like a dancer, swooping and sweeping. The line is languid but elegant , defined with delicate decoration. The concept of physical movement is defined in the music itself. Curving movements, swooping and sweeping, diagonals, lines that break off to return again with fuller force. Trios and solos intertwine. The violins here are dancers, violas, celli and double basses their corps de ballet. JEG had them standing for a very good reason. As the music circulated, it became more and more rarified, shimmering with lightness, defying the concept of gravity. Music, the apotheosis of dance. Gardiner has conducted enough Rameau, Lully and masters of the French baroque to know that concepts of form and clarity are fundamental to style.

In this context, JEG's Oedipus Rex was extremely perceptive, stressing the neo-classical stylization. The emotional distance is reinforced by the use of a Narrator (Fanny Ardant) and Chorus, creating a frame around the solo singing parts. The instrumentation is spartan, used effectively rather than effusively. Observing Stravinsky's economy of gesture is important because it suggest the implacable, impersonal nature of fate. Sentimentality has no place in a drama like this. Instead, Gardiner conducts with tightly controlled tension, keeping the longer line in focus. When climaxes came, they were explosive. Suppressed violence like this works better than overt excess. When the trumpets cried in fanfare, and the chorus sang "Gloria!", we didn't hear militarist triumph, but rather choruses of terrified voices. Just as in Apollon musagète, Stravinsky uses sounds as abstract voices This time, the palette is dark and brutal, shades of granite metal and rock, as impenetrable as the fate from which Oedipe cannot escape.

Stuart Skelton was a superb Oedipe. Being the central protagonist, his part is more complex and emotionally more anguished. The rhythmic pulse in the music is relentless, almost overwhelming, but Skelton rose to the challenge so well that one could - almost - imagine that he might beat what fate had in store. In that, he created the part with sympathy. He made Latin sound like a living language -- demotic and off the streets. It gave the singing a thrilling sense of immediacy, as if the events were actually unfolding in real-time.

Gidon Saks's Creon was impressive. The weight of Saks's voice is such that it inhibits mobility, but this is a part which is meant to be taken with implacable solidity. Jennifer Johnston's Jocaste was deftly paced, and even the small tenor role of Shepherd made an impact. The part lies high, and here it was sung with an attractive fragility which worked well in the context of the drama. Five years ago Valery Gergiev conducted the LSO in an interpretation that was more low down and dirty. But Oedipus Rex isn't about false realism. John Eliot Gardiner and his forces brought out its true intellectual and musical power.

Wigmore Hall - Grime capital of the World

Wigmore Hall's secret other identity? The following exchange is real and came off a TV quiz (imagine that anywhere else but the BBC)

Question : What is the Wigmore Hall famous for? a) classical music, b) folk music or c) grime?

Answer :  Perfectly logical and rationally deduced:
"It can't be classical music, that's the Albert Hall. It can't be folk because they don't do it in town. So the Wigmore Hall must be famous for Grime".

Next question for those of us who don't know (I didn't):  Grime is a kind of edgy street music

Ivan Fischer speaks Chinese!

Ivan Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orchestra gave a wonderful concert last night at the Royal Festival Hall . Glorious playing. Fischer proves that good musicianship doesn't need dumbing down to be popular. Here's a clip of Fischer speaking Cantonese to announce an encore in Hong Kong in 2004. It's one of the most difficult dialects in the world with 9 tones and lots of variants instead of grammar. So the audience are thrilled that Fischer makes the effort un-self consciously. A friend comments : "I guess starting out life learning Hungarian gets the brain well wired for linguistic complexity. Reputedly very hard for foreigners to learn."
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Hollywood's Midsummer Night's Dream Korngold

Not Shakespeare, not Mendelssohn but Hollywood's Midsummer Night's Dream. Great play, great music and the hottest stars of the day? Could the combination fail to succeed? Midsummer Night's Dream the movie (1935) combined classics with film technology attempts to create the ultimate Gesamtkunstwerk. What a pity they din't have colour or computer animation! This is a film that screams excess. Everything's pumped up. The Duke's wedding takes place in a vast baroque palace, attended by rows of Indian Princes in turbans. The Mechanicals seem more out of place than ever.

Hollywood's Midsummer Night's Dream is a strange beast which, despite its ambition, is very much a portrait of the time and place in which it was made. Dick Powell plays Lysander, for example. He was a matinee idol and a crooner, usually cast as a romantic lead who could do comedy, too. Hear him sing tunes from Mendelssohn. Because he was a such a star, the film lingers on his part more than strictly necessary. It's hard to square Powell's persona with a subordinate part: he looks and moves like a 30's screen idol. I don't think he was miscast. He's hilarious and almost steals the show.Demetrius and Helena  barely register.

 Powell's  Hermia is Olivia de Havilland. She was being groomed for stardom, so this film was her big breakthrough. The camera loves her, and her face glows, but her lines are delivered with such campiness it's hard to imagine her passionate Scarlett in Gone with the Wind, or 30 years later, Hush, hush sweet Charlotte. Puck is no other than Mickey Rooney. It's perhaps the strangest role ion his career, but he's perfect - ugly and barbaric but athletic. He makes the corny dialogue sound anarchic. He was only 15 at the time. The Mechanicals are so fake they're embarrassing.

It wouldn't be fair to blame the wooden acting on Max Reinhardt who directed in German. He was an important Weimar director and knew his Shakespeare. Something must have got lost in translation. In any case, Shakespeare was augmented by scriptwriters who ratcheted up the dialogue, adding extras in fake archaic style that ruin the flow of Shakespeare's original. Mendelssohn doesn't escape either. Not only do we get music from his Midsummer Night's Dream, we get extracts from the Scottish and Italian Symphonies and extra snippets which are pure Eric Korngold.  To throw us off still further, the Mendelssohn parts are radically re-orchestrated and clumsily played,

But this Midsummer Night's Dream is fun because it's a thirties Hollywood musical through and through. Authenticity doesn't come into the equation. Instead, we see special effects that must have been state of the art at the time. The forest is a Maxfield Parrish fantasy of undergrowth and elongated verticals. Oberon and his cohorts are clothed in myriad tinsel lights, shining like Xmas trees.  Tatyana's hair is backlit so it shines like a golden halo. Pure 30's glamour shot! The fairies fly on hidden guy ropes. Some are played by ballerinas, who dance in formation like chorus girls. No finesse in the dancing, even though the ballet was choreographed by Bronislava Nijinska, Nijinsky's sister. In 30's style, the film gave employment to dozens of dwarves. Some, however, are costumed as monstrous grotesques. But Oberon's minions can be sinister. As Bottom discovers, the night unleashes ugliness as well as dreams.

Brindley Sherratt Interview

Brindley Sherratt interviewed in Opera Today here. 

Read about the man beneath the costumes and makeup.

Jonas Kaufmann Wagner CD review

Jim Sohre reviews Jonas Kaufmann's new CD of extracts from Wagner, in Opera Today. Read the full review here, it's pithily written ! Here is an extract :

"Kaufmann’s “baritonal” quality has been controversial, and as with many other tenors who trained as baritones..... he lacks the easy ringing high notes and the desperate-seeming quality of reaching for high C’s and beyond with an almost orgasmic youthful impulsion. The voice is trending to darker qualities, and while he has attained them with an admirably schooled and calculated strategy, he may be obliged to evade them in time. This will cause dissatisfaction in some quarters, among the tenor obsessed, but ..............., it need not do so. For complete personas within a drama, he is a performer worthy whatever fame is currently offered a leading dramatic tenor."

"What Kaufmann appears most to enjoy, from both his statements and the evidence of the current album, is the opportunity for inner dialogue, for playing with the character Wagner has devised with words and psychological acumen as well as music. Dynamics go up and down (which speaks well for his Berlin engineers), as if at times he were singing to himself, at other times explaining that self to an audience held spell-struck by his sermon".