Last weekend, Opera News Magazine celebrated five great contributors to the world of opera with its 7th Annual Opera News Awards. The honorees included sopranos Karita Mattila and Anja Silja, baritones Dmitri Hvorostovsky and Peter Mattei, and director Peter Sellars. While I would have loved to write a nice long piece about each one of them, a shortage of time renders that temporarily impossible. So I will rather pay tribute to them here with samples of their works.
Karita Mattila has been wowing audiences since she won the first ever Cardiff Singer of the World competition in 1983. Here she is in the Metropolitan Opera's recent production of Tosca.
Next up is Anja Silja, seen here in a 1968 performance of Fidelio.
Switching over to the men, we have another Cardiff winner, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, in his most recent portrayal of Giorgio Germont, which he just wrapped up at the Met earlier this week.
Next, Swedish baritone Peter Mattei gives us a taste of the lighter side of opera with his delightful rendition of Largo al factotum.
Finally, we have director Peter Sellars. Normally, I would have posted a clip of his film of Don Giovanni, but seeing that I just posted it yesterday in an unrelated piece, I had to find something else. So rather than showing another clip of something he directed, I decided to share a short interview that provides a bit of insight into his thought processes.
And there we have the five honorees of this year's Opera News Awards. I hope you will join me in sending them a huge "Thank You" for everything they have put into their art.
We've all been there before. You purchase tickets to your favorite opera. You get dressed up in your best evening clothes, and you arrive at the opera house nice and early. You find your seat, and wait in excited anticipation for the moment when the opening strains of that glorious music finally reach your ears. The lights go down, the conductor steps up to the podium, and the curtain rises on... Leporello, dressed as a chauffeur, driving a limousine made entirely of chairs. And that's it. That's the extent of the scenery. Just chairs. There's nothing else on stage, absolutely nothing, for the entire three hours. You sit there watching the performance and enjoying the music regardless of the scenery (or lack thereof), but throughout the entire evening, a part of you is unable to focus on the opera because you can't stop wondering what on earth the director was thinking.
I saw that particular Don Giovanni at the age of fourteen or fifteen, at a well-known opera house that shall remain nameless. And to this day, I can't figure out what the point of it was. The memory brings to mind my four-year-old son making trains out of our dining room chairs. Maybe there was some deep message there, and I just didn't get it. Or maybe the director was just trying to be different.
Over the years, I have seen many performances with "just chairs" scenery, in opera houses from Seattle to Tel Aviv. And the only one that has worked, at least for me, was the Metropolitan Opera's recent production of Eugene Onegin. But maybe that was because those chairs actually belonged there, and the director was going for minimalist simplicity rather than cutting-edge who-knows-what.
Last night, I had the pleasure of attending the encore screening of La Traviata in HD from the Metropolitan Opera. I had heard much discussion about the current production, which utilizes as its scenery an Ikea sofa and a giant clock. When I first saw the promotional pictures about a year ago, my initial thought was, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" But then people began talking about it, and the concepts intrigued me. I listened with an open mind, and I went to the theater with quite a bit of curiosity about what I would see. The scenery, of course, was no surprise, nor were the costumes. What I was waiting to see were the emotional, psychological, and atmospheric effects this staging would have. And I got it. I understood what the director was doing, and in a way, it worked. The production magnified Violetta's sense of isolation and despair in the midst of a sinister society that would completely consume her and cast her aside, easily replaced by the next girl to come along. She is haunted throughout by her impending mortality and by the knowledge that she cannot escape her fate. It was dramatically very effective, and yet I did not initially like it very much. I tried to put my finger on what it was that I disliked, and I realized that I have spent my whole life seeking out and admiring the most realistic, historically accurate productions I could find.
This realization made me do a lot of thinking. Even as I write this, I am reexamining my approach to modern productions of classic operas. I understand that these operas that have been repeatedly performed over the past 200 years or so, often in very similar productions around the world, occasionally need to be examined in a different light. While I always feel that the music should speak for itself, fresh ideas and new perspectives have the ability to add so much depth to the operas we think we know so well.
Now there are, of course, all kinds of updates. There are those that transport the opera to a different time period, often moving the action up a century or two in history; for example, a Carmen I once saw set in 1930s Spain, or that brilliant modern-day streets of New York-style Don Giovanni that Peter Sellars produced back in the early 1990s.
Then there are those productions that mix the old and the new, effectively removing the story from any specific time period, and thereby demonstrating the timelessness of these great works. Then you have your varying degrees of minimalist, surreal, and postmodern production, some of which work better than others. And of course, you have productions whose aim is to create controversy, such as Rusalka in a brothel and the so-called Brokeback Onegin.
So the question is this: With a growing number of opera companies opting for modern productions over more traditional ones, how much is too much? Should these traditional productions be preserved, or should they all be replaced? And to what extent should opera be updated? Do these new productions have to try to make some sort of point, or is it enough to just be different? When some productions provoke thought and others leave us scratching our heads, where should the line be drawn? For myself, I'm taking another look at my longstanding opinions. Where do you stand? I would love to hear your opinion!
Next week, the Royal Opera House in London will be broadcasting Puccini's great opera Tosca through Emerging Pictures'Opera in Cinema program. While some critics called it a "shabby little shocker" at its premiere,today Tosca is largely considered one of the greatest operas ever composed. In fact, to some, it represents what opera is all about. Basically, it has it all: love, hate, lust, torture, murder, deceit, jealousy, political intrigue, and some of the most beautiful music you will ever hear. For all this, any production can be made or broken by the right (or wrong) cast. It goes without saying that in any opera, the principles have to be able to sing well. And for some operas, that's really enough: good acting isn't mandatory for it to work. But for certain operas, no matter how pretty the music may sound, if the singers can't portray the characters' personalities effectively, the audience won't believe it. Tosca is one of those operas, and of particular importance are the roles of Tosca and Scarpia. You can have a bland Cavaradossi and still be okay, but the other two determine whether the performance sizzles or fizzles.
This particular production stars Angela Gheorgheu as the diva Floria Tosca, Jonas Kaufmann as her lover, the painter and revolutionary Mario Cavaradossi, and Bryn Terfel as the evil Baron Scarpia. Scarpia is one of that rare breed of truly evil operatic characters, as opposed to all those "villains" who are just a bunch of guys reacting poorly to their circumstances. And every baritone who has ever sung Scarpia casts that evil in a different light. Subtle differences in singing and acting styles change the whole character and his motivations. For example, Tito Gobbi, who was arguably one of the greatest Scarpias of all time, played him as so purely evil that he thought himself untouchable. He knew he was bad, and he seemed to enjoy every minute of it. Sherrill Milnes' Scarpia was ruthlessly cold and subtly calculating. No big, overexaggerated grabby motions from him. He was in control, and could afford to take his time and enjoy the hunt. Ettore Bastianini only sang the role a handful of times, and unfortunately there is very little available by way of video, but he is reputed to have played a very dark, dangerous, yet very attractive Scarpia. And then, on that note, there is Dmitri Hvorostovsky. While we have as yet only heard the Te Deum from him, when he does finally take on the role, I think we can expect a deliciously sensual, yet wholly evil, Scarpia. Such a performance will, no doubt, leave many women in the audience furious with Tosca for dispatching this sinister villain.
While I would love to include several dozen video clips of various Scarpias, I've managed to pare the list down to just a handful. Here are four Scarpias singing the Te Deum from Act I, each providing a different flavor for the character. We'll start with Cornell Macneil, whose Scarpia is pure, unadulterated evil.
Up next is Rugerro Raimondi, whose many brilliant portrayals of Scarpia each differ from the next. In this performance, taken from the on-location film also starring Placido Domingo and Catherine Malfitano, he shows himself to be so drunk with power that he is almost in awe of it.
In the Metropolitan Opera's new production, George Gagnidze plays Scarpia as somewhat of a twisted pervert. As I watched his performance, I could almost see the slime oozing out of every pore in his body!
And finally, here's a taste of what we might expect next week from Bryn Terfel. Please excuse the expression, but he is badass! Terfel's Scarpia is mean, and he enjoys bullying everyone around him. I think we are in for a real treat!
Opera is full of the supernatural. Stages are haunted by devils, demons, witches, and ghosts. Dissonant chords and eerie instrumentation often accompany these spirits, creating a creepy, spooky atmosphere. These moments add a chillingly exciting dimension to the already often-hair-raising art that is opera. For Halloween, I pulled together a few ghost scenes for your enjoyment.
Let's start off with MacBeth. The new king has had his best friend murdered, only to have his ghost (who no one else can see) turn up in the middle of a banquet. There really is no surer way to spoil a party! Of course, everyone around him thinks he has simply lost his mind.
Next up, The Queen of Spades. In this scene, the ghost of the Old Countess appears to a restless Hermann, and seeking revenge, tells him the secret of the winning cards. That doesn't really end up working out too well for him in the end, though.
The Turn of the Screw is a straight-up ghost story from start to finish. Here is a taste of bits and pieces of the whole opera:
And finally, what post about operatic ghosts would be complete without the Commendatore scene from Don Giovanni? There really is nothing I can say about this except watch and enjoy!
Welcome to the South Florida Opera Scene. This is my first post, so I'll start with a word on the purpose of this blog. There are many opportunities to experience opera in its many forms in South Florida, but not everybody is aware of all our available options. I will compile a list of upcoming performances, both live and telecast, fully staged, concerts, and recitals. When available, I will post information about upcoming performances, as well as discussions of past performances. From time to time, I will showcase various artists, both local talent and international stars.
Our first upcoming event is Saturday's Met Live in HD screening of Don Giovanni, available on about two dozen movie theater screens throughout South Florida. This new production, under the baton of Fabio Luisi, stars Polish baritone Mariusz Kwiecien as the Don.
The stellar cast also includes Luca Pisaroni as Leporello, Marina Rebeka as Donna Anna, Ramon Vargas as Don Ottavio, Barbara Frittoli as Donna Elvira, and Mojca Erdmann as Zerlina. Joshua Bloom is Masetto, and Stefan Kocan is the Commendatore.
