Patriotism Goes Biblical at the Met

Verdi’s Nabucco

Metropolitan Opera

December 16, 2016

Grand opera at the Met.
Photo credit: MetOpera

The revival of Elijah Moshinsky’s production of Verdi’s Nabucco brought us pleasurably back to grand, grand opera at the Met. For works like this one, where the historical context plays such a central role in the plot, sticking to traditional sets (especially those as spectacular as the Met’s here) is a necessary choice. I’m all for modernizing and streamlining productions, but for certain operas, dazzling historical pomp is just what it takes. Once we saw a minimalist Aida with an alien-futuristic take by Fura dels Baus and it was beyond grotesque. But back to Nabucco: not only did this production that debuted in 2001 prove itself a timeless classic with stunning temples and gorgeous costumes but we were also lucky to assist a remarkable star-studded cast bring the whole thing to life with none other than the inimitable James Levine at the helm.

Abigail moves in for the kill.
Photo credit: MetOpera

Mezzo Jamie Barton played Fenena, Nabucco’s daughter. I always jump at the opportunity to her her sing especially since I was completely blown away by her Adalgisa in Norma last year in Los Angeles. But after hearing Barton in Nabucco it became clear to me that Bellini’s writing for Adalgisa just suits her voice in a whole other way. Here it was like listening to another artist, a perfectly fine singer, just not as transfixing. The same goes for tenor Russell Thomas as Ismaele, nephew of the King of Jerusalem. We were bowled over by him in that same L.A. Norma. Here he was good, just not as extraordinary as when we first got to know him. True that both Fenena and Ismaele are not as meaty when compared to other roles in Nabucco.

Soprano Liudmyla Monastyrska as Abigaille, Nabucco’s eldest daughter who discovers she’s of slave descent, was a force of nature to be reckoned with. Her sound is incredibly powerful though her Italian was often a bit muddled. From the beginning, however, she came across musically and theatrically as a woman on a mission, a power hungry animal in pursuit, a rebel with a cause.

Bass Sava Vemić as the high priest of Baal, an evil character pushing Abigaille to power, was making his Met debut. We first encountered this young singer in a Roberto Devereux where he played the most minor role but was the best and most powerful singer on stage after Mariella Devia. It was great to see him again. He sounded good but not quite as forceful as we remember him that late winter day. His voice came across a bit too young for the role, perhaps he still needs to figure out the Met’s acoustic. On the other hand, baritone Dmitry Belosselskiy as Zaccaria, high priest of the Hebrews, was a discovery, which is a testament to just how solid this cast was overall.

Tenor turned baritone steals the show.
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Which brings us to the highlight of the night. The legendary Placido Domingo was strikingly expressive as Nabucco. I’m not sure that what we heard was necessarily a baritone, but he sounded full and raw, and played the emotional core of the opera like an open wound. Still going strong at his age, Domingo exceeded my expectations on every level. While some say that Placido should just stop pretending to be a baritone, after hearing him here, I cannot but disagree with them since, at least here, in a way, his lyrical expressivity as a life-long tenor translated very well into the baritonal role. No other singer on stage conveyed character as effectively as Domingo. He portrayed the journey of the hubristic king who falls into madness only to subsequently convert and become an enlightened ruler with a heart-wrenching humanity that found me tears more than once over the course of the evening.

Father-daughter dynamics turned on its head.
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

At the center of Nabucco is a father-daughter drama, around which revolves a series of satellite dilemmas that help to motivate and shape things the larger story of the captive Hebrew population and their desire for freedom. This is one of those rare operas in which the role of the villain is played not by an alpha male of one kind or another, but rather by a jealous, vindictive, power hungry woman. Who said that the history of opera was only populated by stories of men doing awful things to women?

And it all comes to a head in Act III. The individual threads come colliding together when Nabucco, the now disenfranchised father descends into his deepest darkest cave. Having lost his throne and his position as the patriarch of his people, he makes an incredibly moving reflective prayer-like plea. Having hit rock bottom, he touches a kind of madness that I can only liken to that of Shakespeare’s King Lear who suffers a similar fate at the hands of two of his daughters. Then of course, all of this is followed by Verdi’s big show-stopping patriotic choral interlude Va’ pensiero. Beautifully executed, it is staged in a golden halo of transcendent light that is as uplifting and gilded as the melody the terrific Met chorus gently sings. It is truly gorgeous stuff and perhaps the most stunning ode to nationalistic longing in the history of opera.

Biblical patriotism comes suffused in a warm halo of light.
Photo credit: MetOpera

In just the past few months we have encountered several of the most important and moving patriotic bits in the nineteenth-century Italian canon. Last October two of Rossini’s political hymns graced the stage in the same week in both L’italiana in Algeri (Isabella’s aria Pensa alla patria) and Guillaume Tell (the final chorus À nos accents religieux). In Macbeth, which LoftOpera so brilliantly brought to us in December, we got to hear Verdi’s breathtaking moment of collectively displaced reverie in Patria oppressa.

It has been a season rife with Risorgimento undertones, as all the great classics in the nationalist songbook were here. With the election cycle rattling away through it all in the background like an obnoxious New York radiator in the dead of winter, it has somehow felt fitting. If only today we were so lucky as to be blessed with a populism that sounded so melodious.

– Lui & Lei

 

The great king crumbles, moves us to tears.
Photo credit: MetOpera

Viennese Operetta Gets Some New York Glitter

Die Fledermaus

Johann Strauss, Jr.

Metropolitan Opera

December 4, 2015

Die Fledermaus is nothing but festive fun.
Photo credit: Ken Howard / Met

Lui: That holiday feeling is now officially upon us. There is nothing that says seasonal cheer like Die Fledermaus. Bursting with catchy waltzes and bubbling over with champagne, Johann Strauss, Jr.’s scintillating operetta really can’t help but put you in a good mood. The air is redolent with the sweet festive fragrance of schnapps. I never thought I would be as fond of this crowd-pleaser as I immediately became upon our first encounter. 

Prince Orlofsky cordially invites.
Photo credit; Metropolitan Opera

Lei: Last year we fell in love with this Viennese operetta when we saw it performed by indie company NY Opera Exchange, that opted for a hybrid approach of having the dialogues translated in English and leaving all songs in the original German. I thought that was the perfect balance of respecting the musicality of the original and making the dialogue-dense operetta more approachable. And so, softening up my purism about respecting the original, I got to the Met’s production with a relatively open mind, notwithstanding the fact that critics pretty much crucified the show when it opened back in 2013.

Time keeps ticking, ticking away.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: Having heard such dismissive remarks about the English adaptation of the original German libretto, especially when it comes to the extended dialogue passages, I was ready to be irked. But instead many of the jokes were actually funny and the lighthearted laughter was infectious. Truly contagious. Only a few of the comedic interludes drug on a bit too long. But even then, just when you thought it had gone on too long, a zinger of a line grabbed you and you’re back into it. Laughing and letting go.

Dressed for jail, Eisenstein bids his wife farewell.
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Lei: The revised libretto was modernized and Americanized, with puns galore (“Breakfast Epiphanies”) and some truly hilarious lines. Think of Alfred the tenor who, when accused of doing only “Second rate productions of third rate operas,” retorts: “But hey I just got booked for a Death of Klinghoffer in Kuala Lumpur.” A particularly laden joke, since the lead here sung in the Met’s controversial revival not too awfully long ago. Or else, when the jailer Frosch, looking into the first rows of the orchestra, says, “You know what’s it like to work for a living. [beat.] no actually maybe you down here don’t. But you up there.” Gesturing to the peanut gallery. Yes, none of that was in the original German libretto by Carl Haffner and Richard Genee but boy I laughed hard, probably way more than if I had to listen to German recitatif and read a translation on the little screen. 

Frosch cracking eggs like jokes.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

When it came to the lyrics though, the English translations just did not work for me. Sung English is just not as musical and does not work as well with the score as the original. Also, the translation was often choppy in an effort to force the rhyme and resulted in a way less fluid result than if it had been sung in German. While it is true that operettas are closer to musicals than grand opera, Jeremy Sams’ production turned Die Fledermaus into something that sounded way too much like a Broadway musical for my operatic taste.

The dashing Prince Orlofsky.
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Lui: The cast was top notch. During the last run, I remember reading that the role of Count Orlofsky was sung initially by a countertenor which apparently added to the irksomeness of the English bastardization. This time mezzo soprano Susan Graham sang the role and she was much more palatable displaying not only great vocal power but also incredible acting chops. Pretty amazing to see her shift from the tragic role of the lesbian countess in Berg’s Lulu a few weeks ago to the extravagant Russian royal with such comedic ease. 

The Bat drinks to the sweet taste of his revenge.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Brazilian baritone Paulo Szot was a jovial Dr. Falke, aka Die Fledermaus, and displayed his usual charismatic stage presence and strong vocal expressivity. Tenor Toby Spence as Eisenstein moved well on stage and shined vocally, particularly in his duets and trios with other characters. Actor Christopher Fitzgerald was hilarious as Frosch the jailer. Even when you started to think he was taking it a little over the top for standard operatic taste especially at this venue, he went and turned things ridiculous and had you laughing. If you didn’t like tonight’s Frosch you have problems: living, laughing, letting go, loving.

Rosalinde carries the show.
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Lei: Soprano Susanna Phillips as Rosalinde carried the show. More than everybody else on stage she displayed terrific comic timing while also delivering some delicious musical numbers. Particularly memorable were her rendition of the “Hungarian Countess” aria and her many trios with other male characters. Soprano Mireille Asselin stepped in at the last minute as Adele, replacing Lucy Crowe and shining brightly in the show stopping arias of the coquettish maid turned actress. Dimitri Pittas as Alfred, Rosalinde’s ex-lover, was full voiced and hilariously ardent in the stereotype of the Italian tenor, sadly the revisions to the libretto took out most of his cameos of blockbuster Italian arias (which I find super funny in the original ‘Maus).

New York gets a little dose of Viennese glitz.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: Jeremy Sams’ production with sets and costumes designed by Robert Jones is both simple and opulently elegant all the same time. Like few recent productions at the Met, this one really seems to have struck the right balance. Its minimalism is used to create maximalist effects. Certain aspects are all effervescent glitz and fin de siècle glamour, like the elaborate gold leaf inverted dome at Prince Orlofsky’s ballroom and the Eisenstein’s abode, others, like the jail and the make-shift promenade-the-garden space, duly set the scene with just a few scenographic brush strokes. An excellent model on which to build. The orchestra under James Levine waltzed through Strauss’s ear candy score with grace and poise. So many catchy tunes. So many greatest hits.

The Vienna of Klimt looms large over the Eisenstein abode.
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Lei: All in all a night of great fun at the opera. A tad on the musical-theater end of the spectrum but the score is so pleasant, the production so spectacular, the cast so hilarious and the dancing so delicious that I could not help but give in, enjoy the fun, dance in my seat and hum Die Fledermaus’ tunes on my way home.

- Lui & Lei

Alfred puts the moves on his old flame.
Photo credit: Marty Sohl

Ida shines in the spotlight.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Rosalinde on the verge of renewing her vows.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

A troupe of Hungarian dancers completes Rosie's farce.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

The Marking of Die Meistersinger

Thoughts on Wagner’s “comic” opera (seen at the Met on December 6, 2014)

Photo Credit: Metropolitan Opera

I live for Italian opera and have always been scared of Wagner. I thought that trying a “comic” work such as Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg would be a soft and painless entry into the Wagnerian world. I was so wrong. While the six hour length did not bother me, I very much disliked the pedantic approach of going on and on about what good singing should and should not be and building a whole absurd plot to try to prove the point. All I got from this is that Wagner does not know what master singing is or at least is incapable of achieving it in his own right in this opera. 

Let’s play Wagner’s game for a moment and wear “The Marker”’s hat to give Die Meistersinger some grades:

Photo Credit: Metropolitan Opera

Dramatic tension and plot: below zero - one can see from the beginning that the lovey dovey couple will end up together and the only obstacle to that seems to be a singing competition ruled by a bunch of old school form devotees and our hero will win because he sings from the heart instead of by the rules. And the journey through which we get to the happy ending is not a particularly exciting one, the turning point being the fine-tuning of a song.

Comic timing and sense of humor: below zero - it is seriously not funny at all. The attempts at comedy are pitiful and awkward and basically all focused on the character of the town clerk Beckmesser, his highlights being things such as the scornful marking of mistakes in his rival’s song and his inability to serenade because Sachs the cobbler keeps hammering away. Oh and let’s not forget that he limps for the second part of the opera because he got beaten up by the cobbler’s apprentice.

Photo Credit: Ken Howard / Met

Pacing: below zero - Wagner takes too much time to make a point that isn’t even compellingly made, not to mention the fact that it is an utterly obvious one that was clear after the first hour before the first act was even over. And by then there were still another four and a half hours left.

Photo Credit: Ken Howard / Met

Emotional impact: below zero - the point of Wagnerian opera seems to be to remove from the operatic medium any and all moments of heightened emotions, any moments of musical virtuosity, all arias, in favor of including hours on end of the most boring quotidian details of ordinary life that are hard to care about. It’s like exchanging a single five minute aria like “Cortegiani vil razza dannata” from Verdi’s Rigoletto, in which the plot is advanced, character is communicated, emotions are heightened and a story is told through musical energy, for three hours of aria-less, arid, insipid insignificant details that plod along at a snail’s pace while we wait for the opera to make its overwrought and overly obvious point. Which is one that I might add, when it does finally make it, only does so in pretty cheesy ways. The prize song is a sorry excuse for an aria. There is no emotional impact there. Play it on its own for anybody on the street and my guess is that it won’t elicit much of a response. Do the same with Donizetti’s “Una furtiva lagrima”, and any unsuspecting listener will fall victim to its gravitational emotional pull. I’m sorry but Wagner just isn’t on the same level. Does he ever tap into the emotions? Does he ever get there?

Photo credit: Metropolitan Opera

Libretto and Lyricism: below zero - the only poetic moment is supposed to be the big passionate song our hero sings to win the competition and the hand of his beloved (incidentally, what sort of father gives his daughter away as a prize of a singing competition?), with lyrics that boil down to stuff like “I had a beautiful dream where I was in a gorgeous garden and I saw an amazing woman under a tree /  then it was evening and I saw the most beautiful woman by a fountain and was really really inspired”. This is not poetic (or moving for that matter). It is empty mumbo jumbo that has nothing to do with the love relationship of the protagonists. Wagner needs to specifically have other characters be visibly moved by this aria (“Kothner is so moved that he drops the sheet which he had started reading”) and expressly compliment it (“No one can woo like him!”), since otherwise it would not be particularly moving (or wooing for that matter).

Pleasantness: below zero - this is not something that I would like to listen to, savor or relive again. Once in a lifetime it’s plenty.

Musical firepower: pretty high - the beefed up orchestra is sure impressive and the score complex and multilayered. That may be good for a symphonic concert but it’s not by itself enough for an opera.

Proto-nazi factor: pretty high - not only the last act’s parade with all the insignia of the different master singers looked disturbingly like a third reich pageant, but also Zach’s final aria is as nationalistic as it gets:

Beware! Evil tricks threaten us:

if the German people and kingdom should one day decay,

under a false, foreign rule

soon no prince would understand his people;

and foreign mists with foreign vanities

they would plant in our German land;

what is German and true none would know,

if it did not live in the honour of German Masters.

Photo credit: Metropolitan Opera

Don’t get me wrong; my hat goes off to the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra and Chorus, James Levine and the cast of singers who all did a great job in keeping this opera alive for six hours. It’s just that comic Wagner is really not my piece of cake, next time I will man up and dive straight into his tragic stuff.

- Lei & Lui

Three Nozze and a Remarriage

Met Opening Gala 

Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro
September 22, 2014

Evvivan gli sposi!
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lei: I always get to the Met’s opening gala with a mix of excitement (tiaras! a new season!) and apprehension (what if it’s flavorless?). I find that the first show of the year in some way sets the tone for the rest of the season and I very much expect to be thrilled, wowed and surprised. If I get to shed some tears, all the better. This time even more so since Le Nozze di Figaro is a personal Wolfie favorite.

Lui: This year’s gala production brought us Richard Eyre’s refreshing take on a classic. While it was by no means revolutionary, it was definitely a welcome modernization of the hyper-traditional production of Nozze by Jonathan Miller in powdered wigs, tights and corsets that it replaces. And it certainly exceeded the low expectations set by the unimaginative Elisir d’amore that opened the season two years ago. Eyre moves the action of the opera up a century and a half to 1930s Seville and the shift feels natural. It presents only a few hardly perceptible disparities with the text of the libretto, unlike some of the gross discrepancies between text and action that resulted from last year’s 1950s era Falstaff, no matter how pleasant it was.

Rob Howell's jewel box sets.
Photo credit: The New York Times

Lei: The sets were not only gorgeous but also highly functional with a rotating mechanism that kept stage action fluid and seamless. This production was probably able to cut as much as thirty minutes off the show time, as transitions between acts were minimized to next to nothing. Sure, we’ve seen rotating stages before, but this one was particularly successful since it was entirely made up of a series of dark gold elaborate Moorish cylindrical towers of different heights, encasing and unifying bedrooms, salons, pantry nooks, corridors and gardens. The universe created by set designer Rob Howell felt like a sultry micro-cosmos encapsulated in a glowing jewel box.

The plot thickens.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

We were off to a good start, with an extremely cinematic overture, during which the slow rotation of the sets, very much like a camera, swooped through the main characters, introducing them in their habitat, all while James Levine and the Met orchestra made fireworks with that all too familiar Mozart score. It afforded an in medias res overview of all the players that also cleverly showed off the sets and offered nice touches to emphasize narrative points. The class divide between masters and servants and the Count’s sexual escapades were made very clear from the start. The Countess sleeps alone in her sumptuous bed while a half-naked maid rushes across the stage to get into her uniform and head back to work after a quickie with the Count (who looks very pleased with himself and his silk night robe). Meanwhile, Figaro and the rest of the staff are already busy with their various chores around the house and Antonio the drunkard gardener is, of course, already drinking. The whole comes together like a virtuosic tracking shot by an Orson Welles in his prime over the urgency of Mozart’s fiery overture. It was a brilliant introduction to a fleshful world that is already bursting at the seams with day to day activity, sensuality and life.

Susanna sets the trap.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: At this point I was ready to be blown away by Peter Mattei’s Conte Almaviva, especially after seeing him strut through the empty house like a triumphant lion in his robe. All of a sudden I began to rethink the possibilities of this count figure. Was he really a Don Giovanni in a different phase of his life? Somehow cut from the same cloth as the notorious Latin lover? I found myself reconsidering everything I knew about the character. He is usually played as something of a dirty middle aged man who seems more frustrated in his upper crust existence than driven to delicately feast on any young piece of flesh he happens upon. Knowing Mattei’s considerable smooth operator vocal abilities, I braced myself for a performance of the Conte imbued with a debonair Don Giovanni flare. But instead, despite his seductively lyrical honeyed baritone, Mattei played him with his nice guy good looks as more of a boyish ingénu. I also came to realize that the role really only showcases his voice all too rarely. It all served as a reminder that you don’t go to Le nozze di Figaro to be moved by the male roles. The emotional core of the opera lies elsewhere.  

The remarriage plot in motion.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

The second half of the show finally gives the Count more to work with. Mattei lathered it on and melted us with his duettino with Susanna “Crudel! Perché finora / farmi languir così” in grand Lothario fashion. Of course, in that sequence he seems to delude himself as much if not more than he manages to seduce Susanna. Which is also why a Don Giovanni-esque count does not in the end really work and why we cannot expect the wonderful Mattei to redeem the Count’s character from his fundamental foolishness. The Count is the one who ultimately gets played, and, especially in sequences like this one, he even acts against his best interests. He overhears something regarding the scheme his servants are plotting against him and, despite his best intentions, he still falls right into the trap they’ve set for him as though he doesn’t know any better. In the Count’s big Act III aria, “Vedrò mentr’io sospiro / felice un servo mio,” where he shows us just how aware he is of the class warfare being waged behind his back, Mattei came out as strong as ever, giving us glimpses of just how commanding and swooningly smooth his instrument can be. I wanted to hear more from him and very much look forward to be whisked away by his Don Giovanni later this season at the Met.

Figaro has a bone to pick with the ladies.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lei: Bass baritone Ildar Abdrazakov as Figaro was very present and in character, playfully cocky, showcasing some extremely mobile, at times even acrobatic acting. He sang the opening aria while literally building up a bed by moving around wood bases and placing what looked like metal boards on them. Abdrazakov danced across the stage, energetically hopped around, crawled on the ground with a camera, and did very dramatic tango-like moves with Susanna in the final act, all of this while fluidly singing in his deep and smooth Italian. For some reason at times his volume drastically dropped, maybe it had something to do with the acoustics of the sets. Abdrazakov’s Figaro delivered his best performances of the evening in Act IV, particularly in his tirade against women “Aprite un po’ quegli occhi / uomini incauti e sciocchi,” that he delivered with great verve and perfect diction, really doing justice to the delicious text of this aria (think “Son streghe che incantano per farci penar / sirene che cantano per farci affogar / civette che allettano per trarci le piume”),* all while shining his flashlight on the women in the Met’s public.

Cherubino mulls over matters of the heart.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

The gentlemen were strong, but in the war of the sexes the ladies won big time, both plot-wise and in the singing department. The women stole the show, and it was truly Isabel Leonard’s night. Not only she can sing with great expressiveness, perfect Italian diction and sustained power, but also her acting was terrific. She embodied Cherubino with the physicality of a consummate theater actress: her slick short wig enhanced her beautiful features and turned her into a handsome elfin boy, she moved as an entitled horny adolescent but also wobbled convincingly on high heels when disguised as a woman, feigning to coquettishly smoke like a flapper from a long cigarette holder. 

Some crushes die hard.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Cherubino’s attempts at seducing Susanna (really the Countess in disguise) in Act IV were hilarious. In a fitted tux and confidence bolstered by booze, Leonard put on all the suave moves of the most awkward and endearing teenage boy going through puberty. Whenever she was on stage, even when not singing, I simply could not take my eyes off her since she was always doing something interesting and very character specific. As one of many examples, when Susanna dressed Cherubino up in “Venite inginocchiatevi,” Leonard kept going out of her way to turn her head to smile to the Countess, in dreamy adoration. While we saw her last year as a solid Dorabella in the Met’s Così, this rendition of Cherubino revealed Leonard to be an even more mature, confident and well-rounded artist. It is a pleasure to follow her continued evolution.

Susanna schools us.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: Marlis Petersen’s Susanna grew on me over the course of the evening. Hers is the most extensive role of the opera and Petersen definitely rose to the occasion. Her singing was spot on throughout but during her rendition of “Giunse alfin il momento” and “Deh, vieni, non tardar” her voice rang out clear and strong through the house and time simply stood still. It was a magic other worldly moment that on its own made the whole evening worthwhile. One of those rare experiences that you go to opera for. While this is one of my favorite passages in the opera, Petersen’s rendition of it was completely (and ecstatically) surprising.

The wounded bird sings.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lei: I have mixed feelings about Amanda Majeski. The press made a big deal about how she got to make her Met debut on opening night when, as an understudy, she “got the call” because Marina Poplavskaya canceled for sickness (a month before the opening?) and I was honestly worried about her being up to the task. The Countess’ role is not for novices and really is the emotional core of the opera. Majeski’s “Porgi amor” was a bit too frail and tentative for my taste. In “Dove sono i bei momenti” however she was moving and her perfect balance of nostalgia for lost love and determination in getting it back made me tear up a couple of times. Her higher register was a bit wobbly though throughout and that should not happen to a Countess on the Met’s opening night (or any night).

Lui: I, on the other hand, was pleasantly surprised by her performance. Unlike other second stringers we’ve heard at the Met over the years (and just to be clear in this case she wasn’t merely an understudy but the singer scheduled to sing the second half of the run later this season), Majeski was definitely on the level and up to the role. Her “Porgi amor” was tender and delicate and moving. Though her high notes may not have soared transcendent, her sound was nevertheless that of a wounded bird, which perfectly fits with the role, especially in this second act opening aria. She was particularly moving for all of these very reasons in her act three aria of wistful reflection, “Dove sono i bei momenti.”

Lei: Last but not least, soprano Ying Fang might have had a minuscule role as Barbarina but was brilliant in it. Her light lyric soprano is young and fresh but also piercingly powerful. Fang delivered Barbarina’s Act IV opening aria “L’ho perduta! Me meschina!” with an intensity and expressiveness that were truly impressive. We discovered and appreciated her in Shostakovic’s The Nose last year at the Met (in yet another minor role) and after seeing her in this Nozze we will definitely be looking out for this singer.

Cherubino gets a make over.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

Lui: Richard Eyre’s direction was successful in conveying the core of the opera though generally not radically innovative. There were some nice touches here and there (Figaro building his wedding bed from scratch during “Se vuol ballare,” the use of a flash camera to document the Count’s escapades), but there were also some missed opportunities – why on earth in “Non più andrai” does Figaro stroll around the stage alternatively with Susanna and Cherubino? Susanna is lovely but she has absolutely nothing to do with content of the aria being sung.

Three Nozze and a Remarriage.
Photo credit: Sara Krulwich/The New York Times

Lei: Eyre’s directorial choice for the finale, however, is what brought the entire opera to a whole other level. The final spotlight falls on the Count-Countess couple affectionately kissing on a bench immediately after Mattei erupts into the most heartbreaking “Contessa perdono,” asking for his wife’s forgiveness after having been very publicly shamed for his infidelities. Such big emphasis on the reunion of the Count and Countess, very much in the manner of those old Hollywood screwball comedies of remarriage, was definitely more transformative and moving than the traditional happy ending where everybody cheers in an “all is well” fashion, in  celebration of three weddings (Figaro/Susanna, Barbarina/Cherubino and Marcellina/Don Bartolo). This Nozze’s finale struck a more mature chord and it was again very cinematic, with the light closing in on the reconciled couple leaving everybody else in the dark. Perched on the edge of the bench in the garden in Susana’s borrowed wedding dress, the countess basks in the glow of her rekindled love and the evening ends with what is effectively its fourth wedding, making for a very promising and exciting start of the new season.  

– Lui & Lei

All's well that ends (and begins) well.
Photo credit: Ken Howard

* “They are witches enchanting to torment us, / sirens singing to drown us, / owls alluring us to skin us alive.”