Showing posts with label Glimmerglass. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Glimmerglass. Show all posts

Sunday, September 17, 2017

A Patriotic Donizetti and the Siege of Aleppo

Donizetti’s L’assedio di Calais (American Primiere)
Glimmerglass Opera Festival
Cooperstown, NY
July 22, 2017

A Neo-Realist take for our time on a bel canto classic
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Lei: Director Francesca Zambello’s production of Donizetti’s L’assedio di Calais should be a case study on how to modernize an opera, respect the original, and make it relevant to contemporary audiences. The very simple decision of moving the action from the siege of Calais in 1346-1347 to the 2017 siege of Aleppo brought the point home of just how universal a story this is.

The sets reminiscent of the contemporary horrors of all-too-familiar refugee crises
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Lui: The rotating sets designed by James Noone were mostly comprised of bombed out concrete buildings with bent rebar poking out all over, an image that is (sadly) immediately recognizable from headline news in Syria (though they could easily represent any other war zone in recent memory, from Gaza to Baghdad). Along with Jessica John’s attention to detail in the tatters and rags that adorned one side of the fight and modern military garb on the other was sufficient for instantly increasing the emotional charge and relevance of the piece.

Lei: There was no need to translate the libretto into English, change the plot, or take any other Regie poetic license. The directorial choice to modernize the sets and costumes gave this nineteenth-century work a contemporary and universal depth that packed a more immediate punch than if its characters donned medieval armor and carried swords. War is war and the tragedy of defending’s ones home under siege by a despotic force remains the same fact of life whether in 1340s France or in 2017 Syria.

Confronting great adversity is a story for all times
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Lui: L’assedio di Calais is one of those underappreciated gems that fell into oblivion for a number of at times inexplicable reasons but deserves to be brought back to life. Not only is the score bursting with wonderful musical moments, but more importantly the plot and the exploration of its various dramatic tensions are uniquely compelling.

The town of Calais in the north of France is under siege by an invading English army. The young French hero, Aurelio, is first glimpsed furtively pilfering supplies from across enemy lines to feed his starved people. His father Eustachio, the mayor of the besieged city, and his wife Eleonora open the opera on pins and needles, eagerly awaiting news of their son and husband, who has skipped town, temporarily.

Aurelio reunites with his father after a scout mission
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Structurally, the action of the plot revolves around a series of foreboding situations in which danger and devastation for the folks under siege is somehow closely averted. These dramatic catalysts are accompanied by corresponding waves of emotions that run the gamut from despair and sorrow to the sudden return of hope and joy, only to repeat the cycle again.

The initial preoccupations of father and wife over the fate of our young hero which resolves in his sudden soothing return is the first event in the series. The cycle repeats itself with Aurelio’s dream of his son’s abduction and again with the infiltration of a mole sent by the invading army into the besieged town.

All rejoice for the safety of the young
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
The drama then heightens with the arrival of a message from the English King Edoardo. The city will be freed on the condition that six of its finest citizens consent to sacrificing and publicly humiliating themselves. The young hero, his illustrious father and four other brave men all enlist to die to save their city and loved ones. After many tribulations, and a regina ex machina who intervenes to save the day, a lesson in compassion is taught to one and all. The siege is lifted and everyone rejoices together (except maybe King Edoardo who is forced by his wife to play the enlightened monarch).

Lei: Assedio feels like a very unusual departure for Donizetti. It is rife with patriotic themes in ways that his other operas are not. The plot revolves around the tribulations of a family broken by war and of the larger tragedy of a population fighting for survival against an invading power. In a way, this opera feels like a bridge to Verdi, with its big choruses that advance the plot and its focus on patria oppressa patriotic themes.

Also, unlike most Donizetti dramatic operas, there is no prima donna per se to trigger the high drama. However, the absence of a more traditional tragedy of amorous triangles or unrequited love or doomed couples does not mean that the opera is less moving or emotionally compelling. Quite the contrary, Assedio evokes a range of emotions by means of its ensemble cast and in a way it felt truer than his other work (particularly considering Zambello’s provocative production).

Eustachio weighs his convictions at rock bottom
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Lui: The emotions explored in this opera were incredibly complex and rich and the excellent Glimmerglass cast was up to the task. Baritone Adrian Timpau, as Eustachio, embodied both his public role as the leader of men responsible for the welfare the town’s citizens, but also the very private one as father worrying over the life of his heroic son and consoling his daughter-in-law and grandson. Timpau displayed excellent Italian and a well-rounded, agile instrument that managed, together with his effective acting, to poignantly express the ample spectrum of emotions of his character.

Timpau’s portrayal of Eustachio was veined by a tragic desperation that was utterly moving, in particular when he faces the moral dilemma of whether to sacrifice his life to save his people from suffering further. This terrific singer appeared as a member of the Glimmerglass Young Artist Program, but his skill and artistic maturity seemed those of a far more established artist and in fact, his young age notwithstanding, he was a very convincing town elder, father and leader figure. I suspect that we’ll be hearing from him again very soon.

Aurelio and his wife and son
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Mezzo Aleks Romano in the pants role of the young hero Aurelio, together with soprano Leah Crocetto as his wife, vividly represented the love of a couple whose burgeoning family is threatened by war in their many husband-wife duets, gripped by joy and by fear but united in their concern for the future of their son (here played by a heart-wrenching little boy who at one point is seen kicking his half deflated soccer ball amidst the ruins from the bombarding).

Publicly, the Aurelio character also embodies an impetuous brave young man who is driven by principle and eager to fight the oppressor. Vocally, this role has perhaps the most show-stopping flashy coloratura-filled arias to sing and Romano embodied them with a seemingly effortless conviction and passion. Crocetto was an equally impressive singer with a big, luscious voice and easy high notes that carried duets and ensembles alike.

Lei: But perhaps one of the most powerful recurring themes of the evening is that of the love of country and the fierce spirit of resistance required to fight against an unjust invading power. This was most vividly expressed by an impressive chorus, and perhaps most memorably in the fierce Act I finale Come tigri di strage anelanti that was delivered with an electrifying force reminiscent of the Guerra, guerra chorus in Norma.

Sarà di guerra unanime
grido: la patria, il re.
(con tutto l'impeto d’una estrema disperazione)
Come tigri di strage anelanti
piomberem sul nemico spietato,
negli sguardi, nel volto spiranti
ira estrema, furor disperato...
Scorreranno torrenti di sangue,
tutto il campo una tomba sarà.

Let it be a unanimous war cry:
Our homeland, our king.
(with all the impetus of an extreme desperation)
Like tigers hungry for slaughter
We will assail the merciless enemy
In our gait, in our dying faces
Extreme ire, desperate fury…
Streams of blood will flow
The whole battlefield will be a tomb.

The men gird themselves for the good of the community
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Lui: Patriotic feelings were also in full display in the moving Act II finale, with a unique all male sextet of Calais patriots ready to make the ultimate sacrifice to save their loved ones. This moment was particularly moving as all six singers were delivering the same lines in solemn prayer-like fashion, effectively conveying martyrdom.

Patria oppressa, hear my cry!
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Lei: The emotional charge of this opera, surely enhanced by the modern day framing, was so powerful that I found myself on the verge of tears pretty much from the opening chorus, silently sobbing at many junctions throughout the opera, and really weeping inconsolably in the Act III finale. By curtain call, I was an emotional wreck, yes, but also exhilarated by such a cathartic and universal piece of art.

Lui: In our three years of Glimmerglass experience this was the most satisfying performance of all – an electrifying discovery with a top-notch cast, a thought-provoking production, all in all perfectly executed. This production made a very compelling case for bringing Assedio back into opera houses regular rotations, particularly with Zambello’s modern take through the Syrian conflict lenses.

The six self-chosen for sacrifice
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Lei: One can only wish that all modern productions were as successful as this one. The trick was to find the right analogue in which to set an otherwise universal story. The Syrian crisis fits the bill, not least of all because it so powerfully evokes a slew of emotions that struggle to find the proper cathartic release in the context of current political discourse as well as in the mainstream media.

Lui: This is what the arts are for. They provide a forum for exploring collective sentiments that have a hard time finding a venue in other areas of life but that we are desperate to confront together as a culture. Seated collectively in a dark theater, alone together with our thoughts and our solipsistic emotions, mulling over what it means to be human now and always in the company of each other – this is the perfect occasion for an intense and draining exercise in human empathy. It is a beautiful thing what Zambello achieved here in large part thanks to Donizetti and his librettist. A forgotten opera found its relevance again and for this we all can be grateful.

– Lei & Lui


Rodin's take on the burghers of selfsame crisis in Calais

The venue for our collective exercise in human empathy
Photo credit: Glimmerglass


Monday, May 9, 2016

Your 2016 Summer Opera Fix

The idyllic grounds at the Caramoor Center for the Arts
As the Met just closed its 2015/2016 season with a bang with the explosive Elektra, we’re gearing up to make the most of the extremely busy and varied summer opera scene in NYC (and surroundings). If there is still someone out there ranting that opera is a dying art form, we invite him/her to think again and go enjoy any or all of the below. We know we will!

Ines de Castro, inspiration for Malvina di Scozia
A handful of companies will unveil rarely performed works, which is a guarantee of exciting discoveries. The indie jewel-box Vertical Player Repertory led by Judith Barnes is producing a concert version of Giovanni Pacini’s Malvina di Scozia. A long lost opera that is rumored to be enchantingly beautiful but has not been performed in over 150 years. So, it will be like hearing a completely new opera from 1851, plus it’s based on a notorious Portuguese scandal involving the royally sanctioned murder of a prince’s lover. May 11 and 13, at the Christ and Saint Stephen’s Church 120 W 69th Street. 

Known for its “immersive” approach, Onsite Opera will stage a site-specific production of Marcos Portugal’s The Marriage of Figaro in the wonderfully eclectic venue 632 on Hudson in the West Village. Written for Carnival season of 1800 at the Teatro San Benedetto – just 13 years after Mozart’s Figaro, this will be a rare opportunity to hear Portugal’s vibrant music in a fado-inspired re-orchestration. This show is so hot that tickets seem to be sold out, but there is a waiting list, so there may be hope. June 14-17 at 632 on Hudson
 
The rooftop terrace at 632 on Hudson
Performances of baroque opera are sadly always a rarity, thank goodness for Jennifer Peterson’s Operamission that will bring us a concert version of Handel’s Rinaldo - Handel’s first London opera, based on Torquato Tasso’s epic chivalric poem La Gerusalemme Liberata. June 14-16 at the Merkin Concert Hall

Contemporary opera, too, is far from being commonly performed. The recently resuscitated NYC Opera will take care of that by staging Daniel Catán’s Florencia en el Amazonas. Inspired by the magical realism of Gabriel García Márquez and the first Spanish-language opera ever commissioned by a major American opera company, will be performed here in an original production of Nashville Opera. June 22 – 26 at Jazz at Lincoln Center's Rose Theater.

For productions of more familiar repertoire, Brooklyn’s Sunset Park always prolific and solid Regina Opera will stage Puccini’s Manon Lescaut. May 14-15, 21, 22 at Our Lady of Perpetual Help Catholic Academy of Brooklyn.

If you’re in the mood for more Puccini, Chelsea Opera brings us a production of the one-act opera Suor Angelica, very aptly set in an Upper West Side church. June 16-17 at the Christ and Saint Stephen’s Church 120 W 69th Street

Moving to Verdi, Amore Opera will produce the classic heart-wrenching drama Rigoletto. This is one is particularly promising as it would seem that tenor Paolo Buffagni and soprano Sarah Moulton-Faux will play the Duke and Gilda, respectively. We discovered these two singers in these same roles a couple of years ago with Regina Opera and were literally blown away by their sheer intensity and bravura. May 20-29 at the Sheen Center. 


On a lighter note, the hip and trendy undisputed queen of indie opera companies LoftOpera will stage Rossini’s Comte d’Ory at the circus school The Muse in deep Bushwick. Yes, it’s a trek to get out there but, in classic LoftOpera fashion, singers and musicians will be top notch, the show will feel like the most cool and sexy event in the city, and there will be free beer. So, the schlep out there will be well worth it. June 2, 4,7,9, 11 at The Muse, 350 Moffat Street, Brooklyn. 

For another feel good comedy, the prolific Utopia Opera will stage Massenet’s Cendrillon (Cinderella).  This indie company defines itself as a “talented group of friends (and sometimes strangers) who join together to create spirited representations of operatic works for the masses. We provide entertainment you didn't even know you were missing.” Who would want to miss that? June 3-11 at Lang Recital Hall, Hunter College (East 69th St between Park/Lex). 

The Swing (Fragonard)
Summer opera in NYC brings also a couple of training programs for up and coming young singers and are particularly exciting as they display fresh and eager talent that is always a pleasure to discover. Martina Arroyo’s Prelude to Performance program this year will produce Puccini’s Boheme and Strauss’ Die Fledermaus. July 7-10, at The Kaye Playhouse @ Hunter College, E. 68th st. between Lexington and Park Avenue

The excellent Dell’Arte Opera Ensemble led by fearless maestro Christopher Fecteau will produce a festival titled “Violetta and her sisters”, with performances of Verdi’s Traviata and Massenet’s Manon. Also, a program of  "Scenes from the demimonde", featuring excerpts from Puccini's La Rondine and Leoncavallo's La Boheme and "Chansons de Baudelaire",  featuring song settings of Baudelaire by Debussy, Duparc, Fauré, Vierne, d'Indy, Loeffler, Judith Zaimont and others.  August 13-28 at the Baruch Performing Arts Center 55 Lexington Ave. 

Last but not least, classic summer festivals! As always, we’ll look forward to driving up to Katonah for a picnic on Caramoor’s idyllic grounds and their bel canto program, this year showcasing Rossini’s  Aureliano in Palmira - July 16 at The Caramoor Center for the Arts. 

Nearby, Bard SummerScape will focus on verismo, with the rarely performed Iris by Pietro Mascagni. Debuted in Rome in 1898, ushering in a wave of fin-de-siècle exotic opera, Mascagni’s dreamlike score provides the backdrop for a tragic story of Iris, an innocent young girl tricked into abandoning her elderly blind father and lured to a brothel in Tokyo’s notorious red-light district. Pretty exciting stuff! In addition, this festival will present a series of events ranging from panel discussions, to recitals to movies, all somehow related to Puccini and the opera world after him.  July and August dates at the Fisher Center for the Performing Arts
 
A bit further upstate, Francesca Zambello’s Glimmerglass Opera Festival this year will produce Rossini’s La Gazza Ladra, Ward’s The Crucible, Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd and Puccini’s La Boheme. Who does not want to get away from the city through a bucolic drive, chill by the lovely Ostego lake and enjoy excellent quality full productions in an opera house that looks like a barn? Various dates in July and August at the Alice Busch Opera Theater in Cooperstown. 
Ostego Lake

Back in the city, the classic Mostly Mozart Festival celebrates its 50th anniversary this summer. Of particular interest, The Illuminated Heart (July 25-26), with British director and video artist Netia Jones stages an evening of Mozart’s most beloved opera arias and ensembles, featuring superstar singers like Peter Mattei (aka one of the most swoon-inducing lyric baritones out there), Matthew Polenzani, Christine Goerke, Ana Maria Martinez and Nadine Sierra. The festival will also feature staged concerts of Cosi’ Fan Tutte (August 15) and Idomeneo (August 18). Last but not least, Wolfie’s C-minor Mass and Requiem (August 19-20). 

Happy operatic summer to all!

- Lei & Lui

Monday, August 31, 2015

Caesar's Clarion Call

VivaldiCatone in Utica
Libretto by Metastasio
August 1, 2015
Glimmerglass Festival

Caesar in love.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
We were initially not so sure we wanted to hit the Glimmerglass Festival as the over four-hour drive upstate scared us a bit. But, three words won us over: Vivaldi and John Holiday. We can never get enough of Vivaldi’s operas, so rarely performed, and we were bewitched by the Operalia-winning countertenor when we discovered him at the Spoleto festival earlier this year. And so we rented a car, booked a B&B and embarked on the most wonderful weekend trip through pristine farmlands and charming lakes, all blissfully off the cell grid. I was surprised by how much the Glimmerglass Opera house perfectly blends with its surroundings, as it really looks like a big barn tucked away by a pond. There was nothing rural about the performance though, and we definitely did not regret the trip upstate to catch it.

Caesar shows us what he's made of.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Though singing not the title role but that of an impetuous young Cesar in love, countertenor John Holiday dominated Vivaldi’s Catone in Utica. He had it all: control, power, musical ability, agile expressivity and a fullness of sound so rarely found in even the best of today’s countertenors. Holiday completely transcends questions of gender when he sings. You don’t think: “Ah, this is a man singing like a woman,” or “Why is Caesar being sung like an effete man?” Holiday is just so transfixing and almost superhuman that it only makes sense for someone with his voice to play the most powerful character of this opera. The angelic sound of his instrument and his virtuosic handling of it carries you away and leaves you wanting for more, without knowing exactly what hit you. Like never before by listening to Holiday I understood why castrati (the closest sound to today’s countertenors) were the rockstars of their time and why they got the best roles.

Catone maneuvers for relevance.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
While Holiday’s Caesar stole the show, the evening’s tragic trajectory belonged to Cato, at least on paper. However, the particular setting of the opera performed here with its highly abbreviated first act, the original of which is not extant, actually configures the story in large part around the betrothal and courtship of the hand of Marzia, Catone’s beautiful daughter. Her father has in mind a politically expedient union with Arbace, chief of the North African Numidian tribe that has sided with him in his treacherous affront to Caesar’s rise. But, ironically enough, Marzia is already in love with none other than her father’s sworn enemy, the great Julius Caesar himself.

Arbace's marriage of political expediency.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Vivaldi’s Catone is the perfect example of the baroque propensity for casting countertenors as young men in love. Both Arbace and Caesar are the two contenders for the hand of the lovely Marzia, despite the waning political influence of her father. The central love triangle of the story is crisscrossed by another pair of lovers – Fulvio, Ceasar’s lieutenant, falls for Pompey’s widow, the stunning and vengeful Emilia (here played by the excellent mezzo Sarah Mesko). Then of course, there is the overarching plotline of the political intrigue between the stoic Cato (the last stubborn bulwark of the republic) and the rising emperor.

Early in Act I we get parallel peacocking seduction arias. Arbace, sung by countertenor Eric Jurenas, is the first to woo his “betrothed.” He pushes himself on his reluctant prey as he sings S’andrà senza pastore. The Numidian prince – whose Mad Max-inspired garb fits his desert lifestyle, it’s post-apocalyptic chic! – is a bit too overbearing and brusque with the object of his affections. Marzia shuns and spurns him and plays hard to get while he chases her around the stage like a wild animal on the hunt, or like a shepherd trying to catch a wayward member of his flock.

Arbace woos his reluctant betrothed.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Caesar’s introductory aria, on the other hand, his parallel song of seduction, was genuinely moving. In Se mai senti spirarti sul volto lieve, he busts out with some major male grandstanding, which forces his beloved Marzia to admire him in all his splendor, rather than force himself on her. She comes to him and he doesn’t have to make the effort to even so much as lean in toward her. In fact, in his vocal preening, posing and posturing, he is so taken with his own perfections that he almost seems to be more in love with himself than with her. And the aria in Holiday’s hands is mellifluous magic, pulling the attention of the house into his orbit, melting everyone around. She fawns over him and is just as taken as we are with his talents and gifts as a singer. This is what the power of song is about. Holiday shows us what a great operatic moment can do. The seduction of the music imbues the narrative with its Orphic power but yet also transcends the narrative. It is like coloring so vividly inside the lines that its force radiates out from it.

Caesar puts on his game face.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
In a change of tone, Caesar’s second big aria, shortly thereafter, is precipitated after a confrontation with Catone who taunts him with threats of war. Guerra mi piace (“I like war”), says a headstrong Catone. E guerra avrai (“and war you’ll have”), retorts the emperor in his fury. A sudden flood of red light washed over the scene, intimating the bloodshed of war. Caesar is seeing blood and so are we. The quip provokes him to launch into his great yelps of war aria, Se in campo armato. He doesn’t sound girly or effeminate at all. Instead, he comes off counter-intuitively as powerful and manly. His voice has an agile power and a dynamic expressivity. Pacing the stage slowly and deliberately, Holiday seemed more regal than boyish. The full bodied way his voice dropped as he prepared each time to launch into his barrage of little yelps, as he moved from a chesty countertenor to his head voice, were unforgettable. They came off as little conniption fits that gave you whiplash of the ear. That night at Glimmerglass we heard the clarion call of Caesar’s imperial revolution.

Catone barks orders at his minions.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
When we signed up for Vivaldi at Glimmerglass this is precisely the kind of musical experience we were looking for: fiery Venetian baroque operatic fireworks. The fact that the bill included John Holiday, one of the big winners at this year’s Operalia competition, was the icing on the cake. He and most of the rest of the cast that featured an exciting mix of young artists (mezzos Megan Samarin as Marzia and Allegra De Vita as Fulvio) and seasoned veterans (tenor Thomas Michael Allen in the title role and mezzo Sarah Mesko as Emilia) pushed Vivaldi’s vocal score to its expressive limit in many key moments. After Holiday, the most impressive singer on stage was Ms. Mesko, who attacked Emilia’s vengeful arias with a fury and passion worth of Vivaldi. 


Emilia and her game face.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
I wish I could say the same for the orchestra. While the singers were fleshing out the ends of their lines with bright full colors and emitting fiery vocal effects into the intimate theater from the stage, there were fewer sparks to be heard from the orchestra pit. What I love about a good Vivaldi score are ferocious strings, especially the violins that demand to be passionately attacked with a Mediterranean animality. Here there were very few Vivaldi fiery Italian flourishes. The orchestra under Ryan Brown’s direction just didn’t seem to rise to the level of the singing. They were tight though slightly academic sounding, more restrained, and more English in disposition than uncontainably Southern European.

I found Tasewell Thompson’s production to be extremely effective in its sophisticated simplicity. The staging presented a brief introduction of each of the characters during the overture. The stage was visible through a translucent scrim and each of the singers in full classical garb strutted out onto the stage one at a time. Their character’s name and a brief description of what they represent was projected onto the scrim to ease us into this world. The costumes were grandiose. The setting was the North African desert in Numidia where Cato has fled. Over the course of the evening an ominous big full moon was alternatively projected on the backdrop along with a portentously setting sun. Gold-encrusted “Roman ruins” (or ruins of the declining Roman republic?) were strewn about in heaps around the stage. An arc du triomphe framed much of the action, as if to signify that the ineluctable march toward empire is under way.

A brighter day is promised in the imperial silhouette.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
Another brighter day is promised in the form of a series of incisive projections featured at the rear of John Conklin’s set design. Silhouettes of architectural elements appear against the solemn sunset of the backdrop: a Corinthian column, the outline of the Coliseum as it stands today. The gloaming of the dusky sky is offset by a brighter world. Ironically though, some of the silhouettes are rather ominous, portents of later decline, like the that of the Coliseum already in the ruins as it appears today, which I suppose is a proleptic fast forwarding to the eventual fall of Roman imperial glory altogether. Civilizations rise, and even the greatest fall. Here is the story of one man’s convictions and his attempt to get out of the way of the inexorable storm and surge of the locomotive of Caesar’s imperial project, to whose ineluctable rise even the senate back in Rome has already succumbed.

A daughter grieves.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel
And, of course, succumb even Cato does. I was eager to see how Vivaldi or at the very least how this production would treat Cato’s final definitive gesture. Attitudes toward tyranny are at stake in how Cato’s clinging to the moral high road is staged. His is the ultimate study in conviction. Thompson’s production again gives us an abbreviated finale. Foregoing the grand finale choral passage featured in at least one version of the score, Thompson leaves us with what is perhaps the most memorable image of the evening. The lights go up on the final scene to reveal a Cato slumped over in his throne with his back to the audience. His arms hang lifeless and red streamers run from his wrists like streams of crimson blood across the stage on either side. Rather than a final flourish of vocal fireworks, the orchestra gives us a majestic oboe solo that is both haunting and incredibly moving at the same time. Simply magnificent.

Lui & Lei


Marzia ponders her personal political predicament.
Photo credit: Karli Cadel

The Glimmerglass Opera House.
Photo credit: Allegri con Fuoco