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 Flute Lost its Magic

Die Zauberflöte

A singspiel by Wolgang Amadeus Mozart

Met - October 11, 2014

Photo credit: Met

I was so looking forward and ready to like this Die Zauberflöte. It had a lot of good things going for it on paper. For starters, it was finally performed in its original German version, very welcome news after the Met butchered this opera over the last few years by offering a reduced English version as a Christmas holiday treat for families. I (somehow) get the need to sell tickets but please please Mr. Gelb do not tamper with Mozart ever again. It’s really perfection as originally conceived and, also, English translations of any opera sabotage its musicality. Honestly, how hard it is to push the little subtitle button in front of you? Thank goodness this year the “approachable” English kids show is Hansel and Gretel (which I don’t care for). I was also excited to catch Adam Fischer doing Wolfie again (loved his semi-staged Nozze a couple of summers ago), not to mention bass René Pape as Sarastro and soprano Pretty Yende as Pamina.

Photo credit: Marty Sohl / Met

Tonight, however, it was one of those rare times where no matter how solid the musicians and singers, the production managed to negatively affect the whole experience. The biggest problem was the lack of cohesion throughout. True that the Flute is a hodgepodge of improbable elements: we’re in a mythological age and magic land where there are wild animals, African slaves, professional bird-catchers, classical temples, Egyptian gods and western music. This opera, however, also offers the opportunity to an imaginative director to create a wonderful magic world and unfortunately Julie Taymor’s production just missed the mark. The supposedly unifying theme was provided by giant transparent structures in the shapes of triangles, circles and squares, functioning as the core of the sets framing each scene. While maybe a good idea in principle, these things felt like clunky cheap worn out plastic, badly illuminated by neon and also disturbingly noisy, squeaking and creaking at every scene change. Some of the choral scenes in the last act felt unfinished, with a plastic temple so far back that I almost felt the Met’s stagehands peeking behind it and what looked like bright white plastic tent material on the floors and walls. The Papageno/Papagena reunion happened over a (noisy) mobile plexiglass staircase. When squeaky plastic seems to be the dominant theme of a production something is wrong.

Photo credit: Met

Costumes, too, were disappointingly all over the place, some of them refined and elaborate (the Queen of the Night and Tamino, both Japanese-inspired), others put together at the last minute by a team of children armed with scissors and cardboard (the temple chorus, at times even sporting a ridiculous rainbow across their chest), others again out of a Mexican lucha libre match (Monostatos, who also wore inexplicable high heels, essential to rape maidens?).

Photo credit: Met 

I enjoyed only a handful of special effects in Taymor’s production: the kabuki puppetry (particularly in the dinner scene, where shiny food magically appears floating in the dark), the trials by water and fire (with the loving couple going up and down through a fluid sheer silk column) and the spirits’ different appearances (now floating on a flying bird, now on the shoulders of other characters).

Photo credit: Sara Krulwich / The New York Times

Photo credit: Marty Sohl / Met

While generally singspiel is not my favorite, it does work with the complicated symbolic plot. All singers were, though not extraordinary, consistently solid across the board. Mozartian tenor Toby Spence as Tamino delivered convincing expressions of pure love and virtue. Baritone Markus Werba as Papageno had good comic presence and was entertaining, at times silly (I could live without the “my name is Geno, Papa-Geno” gag, that’s definitely not Mozartian) but all in all pleasant. Too bad poor Papageno was wearing a green ill-fitting pyjama that had nothing to do with the rest of the costumes (and seemed to have been recycled from a different production). René Pape, today on double duty impressively switching from Verdi (as Banquo in Macbeth’s matinee) to Mozart, as Sarastro in the Flute’s evening performance, was simply glorious, exuding charisma every time he was on stage, with his commanding and seductive bass. I just felt really bad for Pape having to wonder around the stage looking like a huge yellow piñata with a Japanese hat on. I get the sun metaphor, but still...

Photo credit: Ken Howard / Met

Photo credit: Marty Sohl / Met

Soprano Ana Durlovski as the Queen of the Night had good technique but her voice was just not strong enough for the Met, which is a shame because the whole show shines a bit less brightly if her big second act showstopper “Der Hölle Rache kocht in meinem Herzen” doesn't blow the roof off the place in a super-human fit of vengeful rage. Young soprano Pretty Yende was the loveliest Pamina, with a beautiful clean sound and at times really soaring and filling the Met, way more than the Queen of the Night. Yende did share with Pape the prize as worst dressed of the evening, with an ill-fitting electric blue gown plastered by a color block apron stripe in the front. I felt relief for Pamina when in the final scene she finally ascends to the temple in a simple elegant white tunic. 

Photo credit: Met

The boys performing the three spirits (Connor Tsui, Sebastian Berg and Andre Gulick) delivered some unbelievable singing, eery and powerful. It was truly impressive (and slightly uncanny) to hear these piercing sounds from such young singers, whose costumes, for once, kind of worked with the characters (white body paint, diapers and long white beards). The three ladies (Amy Shoremount-Obra, Renee Tatum and Margaret Lattimore) were also vocally strong and had good comic presence, though at times Taymor had them mess around too much with masks sitting on top of their fully dyed blue faces and one single oversized hand - go figure.  

Die Zauberflöte’s score is fantastic, multi-faceted and expressive through a broad range of characters: illuminated priests, lusty slaves, pure innocent love, raging evil queens, happy bird-catchers and a variety of spirits and fairies. Ivan Fischer’s conducting was brilliant - if I closed my eyes it sounded all blissful, wonderful and inspiring, unfortunately the production and costumes just did not work as well as they could have given the world of  possibilities that this opera offers.

Photo credit: Marty Sohl / Met

- Lui & Lei