A Benchwarmer’s Barber

Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia

Metropolitan Opera

January 21, 2017

The Barber forever lurks in the Rossini repertory
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

In terms of expanding our Rossini horizons, this last year or so in opera has been a boon. Bare Opera brought us one of his earliest youthful works, La cambiale di matrimonio. The Met simultaneously presented his first big breakout success, L’italiana in Algeri, and his final masterwork, Guillaume Tell. Bel Canto at Caramoor bestowed Aureliano in Palmira upon us over the summer. La gazza ladra landed alongside the lake at Glimmerglass; and a most memorable Turco in Italia at Juilliard not too awfully long ago. Opera Philadelphia has Tancredi in store for us next month. After lavishing its racy take on Le Comte Ory on us last June, LoftOpera is about to tackle Otello, another masterful rarity.

So much of Rossini’s back catalog has been ransacked of late that the uber-canonical joys of Il barbiere di Siviglia begins to feel less like the monolithic central altarpiece in the temple of bel canto worship and more like a quaint relic, easily overlooked, far from the main stage languishing as a sideshow somewhere. However, when the likes of Peter Mattei is slated to sing it… now that’s an opportunity that’s hard to pass up. What else are we going to hear the golden-tones of the great Peter Mattei in this year at the Met if not this?

Mattei's absence unsettles us in our seats
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Promptly taking our seats well in advance of the curtain, we were flummoxed to find that Peter Mattei had taken ill. What a bummer that little slip of paper in the program was! Our spirits sunk so low that we almost gathered our things and hit the road. But yet, something kept us there. We made a pact to sit through the first act and give the benchwarmers a chance. We vowed to decide whether to stay for the rest or not at intermission. So we settled back in. And, boy, are we glad we did.

Figaro's mobile bottega arrives bearing a surprise
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

The biggest disappointment of the evening turned into one of the greatest surprises. The sun began to shine again through our clouds of doom and gloom from the moment Edward Parks, Mattei’s substitute, was wheeled out on the roof of Figaro’s mobile bottega by his bevy of damigelle. To say Parks came out strong in his opening number, Largo al factotum, is an understatement. His round manly sound, reminiscent not of Mattei but of a more virile Erwin Schrott, instantly redeemed the evening. 

Edward Parks covers for Mattei

Parks has a handsome instrument and great stage presence. He is naturally playful and hunky. In fact he would make a perfect Don Giovanni. He’s more brutal in his attack on the notes than Mattei. He’s not as lyrical as the man we came to see and doesn’t savor the words in Mattei’s inimitable way, but it is, nevertheless, great to see a benchwarmer rise to the occasion and shine like this, considering the shoes he had to fill. Parks isn’t your average panchinaro. He is obviously a formidable talent in his own right. That’s why it’s always worth giving the back up a day in court. You never know what’s in store.

Soprano Pretty Yende is lighter and flightier than your typical Rosina. She has a way of eating up her musical line with killer agility and piercingly beautiful high notes. She expanded famous numbers like Io sono docile in her own unique virtuosic way, imbuing her tempos with more space and lengthening the time between her notes. It’s a treat to get a singer who really relishes the opportunities afforded by Rossini’s bel canto compositional style. Making the part her own, slowing certain passages down, taking extra rubato high notes, dishing out moments of pure vocal genius. She is one of the great singers at the Met at the moment. And tonight she was on fire.

Pretty Yende owned the orchestra as Rosina
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Dottor Bartolo was replaced with panache by Maurizio Muraro. His booming bass-baritone resounded through the Met with forceful self-assurance. But he is old hat in this role at the Met, so we were less worried about his ability to so fully channel, body and soul, the spirit of the dirty old tutor. As ever, Muraro was a pleasure to watch in this role.

Often sung by an older mezzo, Karolina Pilou played a youthful Berta and really showed off her acting chops. She was always in character. I kept my eye on her through my binoculars every time she was on stage. She filled the space with her big voice, which is naturally graced with fluidity and agility. She also made her vocal presence forcefully felt in the ensembles, in which she really delivered.

Muraro is Bartolo, body and soul
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

The tenor, however, was the weak link. Dmitry Korchak came out a bit cold and only finally warmed up in the second half of the first act. He just wasn’t bright or sparkly or bubbly enough for this kind of repertoire, particularly if you’re sad to have missed a Camarena night of the run. He’s not unpleasant but he’s not exciting enough, which is what this kind of Rossini demands of its singers, at the intersection of bel canto and opera buffa.

Though we had both seen this production numerous times in the past, it was a pleasure to revisit it. It is full of clever touches from the ballet of doors to the giant anvil that drops in the Act I finale as the sextet drones on about an incudine sonora. Bartlett Sher’s direction is clear, imaginative, faithful to the mood of the piece and fluid.

When done right like this with great singers Rossini’s Barbiere is a sparkling opera. The kind of night out that leaves you feeling refreshed with your spirits lifted. And the score achieved its maximal frizzante flair under the baton of Maurizio Benini. The Met orchestra sounded tight, popping out Rossini’s staccato rhythms, classical guitar, harpsichord and all, and yet remained flexible enough to allow a stellar diva like Pretty Yende to spread her wings and take her own sweet time, from time to time. Despite the sorry absence of our much beloved Mattei, what’s not to love!

– Lui & Lei

 

The wool goes over the eyes of the unsuspecting victim
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Dionysian Don Giovanni Casts Orphic Spell

Mozart’s Don Giovanni

Metropolitan Opera - February 14, 2015

Final descent of the Dionysian Orpheus
Photo Credit: Met Opera

Lei: Peter Mattei yet again showed he’s one of the best Mozart baritones around and his smooth elegant voice creates a Don Giovanni who is effortlessly and inevitably irresistible. Every single sound that came out of Mattei’s mouth, be it a recitatif or an aria, was fluid, gracious, playful, mischievous and manly at the same time, and I very much felt the bewitching draw of his character. I totally understood and felt the pain of all the women in the opera who cannot resist the charms of Don Giovanni – if someone sang to me like that I would swoon and go Donna-Elvira-crazy too. This time more than ever I perceived Don Giovanni as a truly magnetic and Dionysian force of nature, that had me rooting for him throughout the opera in a very non-feminist fashion. 

Mattei turns on the charm
Photo credit: Julieta Cervantes

When Mattei delivered Deh vieni alla finestra serenading Donna Elvira’s servant, time just stopped, hearts skipped beats and breaths were held, with the hope to prolong the magic enchantment of the canzonetta. All this for a horny guy trying to lure his ex-lover’s maid into his arms to add another feather to his seducer’s hat – oh, the genius and beauty of Mozart’s music. Mattei’s Don Giovanni was also very physical: aggressively sexual (rummaging with a predator’s urgency under Donna Anna’s and Donna Elvira’s skirts), romantically tender (seducing Zerlina and carrying her in his arms), inexplicably honorable (kissing the hand of the Commendatore he just murdered), energetically playful (dancing around and bursting with energy in Finch’han dal vino) and tragically human (twisting in agony when he shakes the Commendatore’s ghost hand and faces death in the final act).

Peter Mattei is a man possessed
Photo Credit: Met Opera

Lui: Mattei’s buttery voice lent the character a unique appeal, as everything he sang was seductive. He cast his spell on everyone. He had all of the women eating of his hand, which is my favorite take on the story. Despite how much any of his victims are in denial, they are all pursuing him because deep down they find him simply irresistible. Even Leporello cannot help but fall under his sway. Mattei gave an extra jolt to the beginning of Act II in the way that he dispatched his lyric baritone. I was blown away by the way he beckons back his disaffected servant with the smoothest, honeyed call of “Leporello” I’ve ever heard. It was unreal. It was in that moment that I felt not just that he was playing the character not merely as a man possessed by a Bacchic devil, but rather as some kind of twisted Orpheus who is in possession of the gift of song and who is less interested in using it as a civilizing force to conquer the demons of hell than he is ready and willing to use it in service of his demonic libido. The result is a Dionysian Orpheus. Playing up Don Giovanni’s special endowment with the power of music and song is a revealing way to understand this character. More than rethink the questionable morality of the story, it led me to rethink the nature of the score and what Mozart might be doing musically with this legendary figure. Only a great singer like Peter Mattei can bring this level of the character. And what a pleasure and a privilege it was to catch him frolicking amidst the maidens at the top of his game.

Luca Pisaroni balances the books
Photo Credit: Met Opera

Lei: Mattei was so sensational that truly everybody else on stage, no matter how strong, felt secondary to him, though maybe that’s the core of a certain version of Don Giovanni when the Don is so irresistible. Leporello is one of Luca Pisaroni’s signature roles and it shows. His bass-baritone is effortless and smooth and blended beautifully with Mattei throughout the opera as his wingman / alter ego. This Italian singer really savors every single word and delivers his most hilarious lines with gusto. Pisaroni also has great comic tempo and was particularly hilarious in the terzetto at the beginning of Act II when fake serenading Donna Elvira (it’s actually Don Giovanni doing the talking while Leporello mimics the gestures of a half-hearted lover). Russian tenor Dmitry Korchak made his Met debut as Don Ottavio and, while not extraordinary or particularly heart-wrenching, his voice was strong, expressive, Met-filling and tender enough. At times it even soared a bit. I’ve heard much worse at the Met in this role and all in all enjoyed his performance. Soprano Elza van den Heever as Donna Anna was the strongest female singer of the night. She attacked the role with passion and the sheer power and musicality of her instrument were impressive. When we saw her a couple of years ago in her Met debut as Elisabetta in Maria Stuarda we were not as impressed but this time she really delivered a fierce Donna Anna. Donna Elvira played by soprano Emma Bell was also vocally strong, particularly in Mi tradi’ quell’alma ingrata and had good tragi-comic acting qualities, truly embodying female obsession with the irresistible Don Giovanni.

Peasant mirth before the Lord arrives
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Lui: Kate Lindsey’s Zerlina just didn’t do it for me. She had moments, especially in Batti, batti, O bel Masetto where she was technically very precise, but her sound just did not seem to work, maybe because she’s a mezzo and this role is traditionally sung by sopranos. Her voice is far too trapped in the back of her throat and she didn’t have the lightness and effervescence of the flirty peasant Zerlina. Her husband Masetto by bass-baritone Adam Plachetka also felt technically accurate but lacked power and the raw abruptness and nervousness of his character. James Morris as the Commendatore put up a good fight in the opening scene but was not terrifying or thundering enough when he comes back as a ghost in Act II.

The Don makes a narrow escape in the Act I finale
Photo Credit: Met Opera 

Lei: Maestro Alan Gilbert’s conducting was sensational. The last time we saw Don Giovanni at the Met it was like the orchestra was only half there. Under Gilbert’s baton they attacked Mozart’s score with the kind of energy and enthusiasm that really brings this classic to life. It was a muscular and powerful show from the orchestra, and Gilbert seemed to also bring out the best in his singers. At curtain call the maestro even took the time to individually thank each of the singers, which was a very nice touch I’ve never seen before. I’d look forward to see Gilbert conduct more often at the Met, maybe once he’ll leave his post at the NY Phil he’ll have more time? A final word on Michael Grandage’s nice enough production: while the walls of balconies are very functional (they serve as streets, piazzas, cemetery and the Don’s palazzo) and at times pretty effective and all in all the direction is very loyal to the libretto, after seeing this same production for the third time I am definitely ready for a new one - though please have Mattei sing in it.

- Lei & Lui

The Don meets his match
Photo Credit: Met Opera