Turandot
Giacomo Puccini
Metropolitan Opera
October 3, 2015
Zeffirelli's grand Orientalist extravaganza Photo credit: Marty Sohl |
After having seen just a few hours earlier the Goya-dark and
emotions-stirring Trovatore matinee, the Turandot evening
show on the very same stage felt like a kitschy operatic Disneyland – all glitter but no depth or
complexity of any sort. And we experienced Puccini’s Oriental extravaganza in
its best possible form (Zeffirelli’s grand production) with a sensational cast
(Goerke, Alvarez, Gerzmava). The performance was truly spectacular, the way a Turandot
should be. One could see why this is a house-filling blockbuster: elaborate
sets that create an exotic fantasyland, extremely straightforward fairy tale
plot and dozens of dancers and singers swarming all over the stage, doing all
sorts of eye-catching stuff. Had I seen Turandot any other evening, I
would have probably been pretty excited about it, but catching it on the same
day I witnessed the best Trovatore ever, I really could not help but
compare the two operas and the Verdi one was the clear winner for me, mostly
because I found the plot way more multi-layered, relatable and interesting than
Puccini’s. No matter how gorgeous the music, if the narrative does not
captivate me, I simply don’t enjoy an opera as much.
Disneyland glitz in all its glory at the Met Photo credit: Marty Sohl |
Putting aside the sets’ many bells and whistles and the excellent
lead singers, the Met Orchestra and the Met Chorus, led by maestri Paolo
Carignani and Donald Palumbo, respectively, were the true
protagonists of this piece. The orchestration was through the roof. I never
heard the Met Orchestra playing like that. So loud, so full. So grandiose. And
the Met Chorus as the Peking mob and the court at Turandot’s imperial palace
was truly sensational and carried the opera through, matching the explosive
grandiosity of the orchestra.
Calaf mourns the loss of Liu Photo credit: Marty Sohl |
When it comes to Turandot’s individual singers and smaller
ensembles, though, while there were many perfectly enjoyable moments, very few
were memorable or captivating to me. And not for any singer’s fault. It’s just
that the opera itself does not have more than a handful of truly compelling
arias, basically Nessun dorma by prince Calaf and Tanto amore segreto
by the loving slave Liu before she kills herself. Nessun dorma is
one of the most famous operatic arias ever, as Sir Denis Forman put it in Night
at the Opera, this “wonderful aria shines out, pure Italian gold, amidst
all the surrounding exotica. It has a sweeping line, a great climax and if you
don’t fall for this you might as well give up hope of a good relationship with
Italian opera.”
Timur and his faithful Liu fare their way Photo credit: Marty Sohl |
The Argentine tenor Marcelo Alvarez was a force of nature
as Calaf. This singer is growing on me every time I see him. He truly rides
orchestras and has a manly melodic power that is a pleasure to hear and at
times pretty gut stirring, too. I particularly liked his soaring Nessun
dorma and the power with which he attacked his responses to the three
riddles. Russian up-and-coming soprano Hibla Gerzmava was a moving and
intense Liu. I will be interested to see her again in other roles. American
dramatic soprano Christine Goerke as the ice princess Turandot had
impressive and almost thunderous power, however, her lines are pretty
declamatory in nature and there’s not much expressivity that can come out of that
no matter how good the singer.
Trovatore and Turandot together total more than Die Meistersinger, however, after spending over six hours at the Met, I actually felt pretty exhilarated about the Verdi + Puccini operatic overload – which I could not really say after equally long yet painful Wagnerian experiences. Just another confirmation of the fact that I can take Italian opera in huge doses but continue to have digestive issues with Wagner...
– Lei & Lui
The ice princess Turandot remains impenetrable Photo credit: Marty Sohl |
No comments:
Post a Comment