Enfin!! Enfin, j’ai pu voir sur scène Natalie Dessay… A l’Opéra de Paris Bastille, dans “La Bohème” de Giacomo Puccini (Manon Lescaut, Madame Butterfly, Tosca,…). Cet opéra en 4 actes se passe à Paris dans les années 1830, au coeur du Quartier Latin rempli de peintres, musiciens, philosophes et écrivains vivant de leur art au jour le jour. Ce sont eux les bohémiens, artistes libres et joyeux de vivre. A leurs côtés sont les grisettes, ces jeunes filles brodant, chantant, … qui leur font tourner la tête. Cette oeuvre est inspirée des “Scènes de vie de bohème” de Mürger.

C’est l’histoire de Rodolfo et Mimi, Marcello et Musetta, et de leurs compagnons. C’est l’histoire d’une jeunesse qui n’a qu’un temps, d’un amour qui ne vit qu’une seule fois et se termine tragiquement par la mort de Mimi. C’est également l’histoire d’un Paris qui porte les espoirs, les rêves et les chimères des jeunes artistes.

“Il n’est peut-être rien de plus simple que La Bohème : un jeune homme et une jeune fille se rencontrent et s’aiment, sont séparés par la vie, se retrouvent pourtant avant la séparation suprême. C’est à Paris, un Paris à la fois légendaire et bien réel, au temps éternel de la bohème. De cette simplicité sourd le surnaturel, une émotion toujours nouvelle et irrépressible. Dans La Bohème, Puccini a su créer des images inoubliables : Mimi entrant, telle la muse, une bougie à la main dans la chambre du poète, le duo d’amour sous la lune, le grand café illuminé, les adieux impossibles dans le matin glacé, la mort enfin sur le lit misérable. Mais les lieux sont autant de régions de nous-mêmes : son café Momus, c’est le tournoiement même de l’existence, sa Barrière d’Enfer l’effrayant désert du coeur. La Bohème évoque ce qui nous hante tous : l’amour qui flamboie et nous emporte au ciel, la jeunesse qui s’enfuit et le temps qui détruit tout. En 1896, Puccini a encore de nombreux chefs-d’oeuvre devant lui. Mais plus jamais peut-être il ne retrouvera cette évidence et cette splendeur de la mélodie, où chaque phrase nous touche et est inscrite en nous depuis le premier jour où nous l’avons entendue” – Livret de l’Opéra de Paris

Site Opéra de Paris sur La Bohème !

Puccini signe là un opéra dit de la maturité. Les airs de Mimi sur sa vie dans sa petite chambre blanche, d’où elle ne voit que les toits de Paris, qui lui offrent au printemps le premier soleil, de Musetta sur son plaisir d’être admirée dans la rue, de Rodolfo sur l’amour, et les duos admirablement orchestrés, font de cet opéra une petite merveille à mon sens.

 Un bémol, la mise en scène est naturaliste, un peu trop conformiste. On retrouve de vieilles publicités aux murs, de grandes affiches dans les chambres et hôtels, les pavés de Paris et bien sûr le vieux poële qui n’a pas assez de nourriture pour travailler. Le deuxième acte se passe tout entier sous une neige artificelle, les premier et dernier acte se déroulent dans le studio de Rodolfo et Marcello. Le deuxième acte a pour cadre le café Momus, grouillant de vie et d’activité, et est le seul qui dynamise un peu cette mise en scène.

Les voix correspondent, je trouve, parfaitement aux personnages, et la couleur apportée par chacun est dans le bon ton de l’histoire, entre drame, romance et moments de comédie. La soprano Tamar Iveri incarne une Mimi joyeuse, romantique qui mourra dans les bras de son amant. Stefano Secco est un parfait Rodolfo, partagé entre l’amour et la peur de perdre Mimi à cause de sa maladie, à la voix bien posée et pleine d’émotions. Ludovic Tézier en Marcello est excellent, sa voix résonne dans tout l’opéra.

Natalie Dessay

Et bien sûr, Natalie Dessay qui incarne pour son premier rôle puccinien la grisette Musetta, illumine la scène lors de ses apparitions. Dynamique, pétillante dans le côté frivole du rôle, elle devient grave et émouvante à la fin, devant la mort de Mimi. Sa voix virevolte entre jeu de séduction, colère, émotion et douleur. Toujours claire et pure, elle est accompagnée des talents de comédienne de Natalie Dessay, qui fait de Musetta plus qu’un personnage secondaire.

L’orchestre de l’Opéra de Paris, que j’entend pour la deuxième fois, était dirigé par le chef Israëlien Daniel Oren, qui excelle dans le sens du drame. Un point spécial pour les lumières (Guido Levi) que j’ai trouvées particulièrement réussies, et pour le choeur des enfants de l’Opéra.

Bref, en plus d’accomplir un de mes plus vieux rêves, voir Natalie Dessay en “vrai”, j’ai passé une soirée excellente grâce à un opéra qui s’est révélé, comme d’habitude, trop court!

Astăzi s-a terminat minunatul Festival Internațional „George Enescu”. Ediția a XIX-a.

Ieri am avut o zi full, începând cu munca pe la radio, dup-aia latină, dup-aia nu m-au lăsat să intru la Loussier. De la 22,30 am fost la seara Mozart cu Orchestra de cameră din Bremen, corul Madrigal (dirijor – Marin Constantin), dirijorul Louis Langree, etc.

Etc. = în prima parte a cântat minunatul Peter Jablonski un concert pt pian (de Mozart, doar am zis că a fost seară Mozart). Nu m-a impresionat. Și în partea a doua (Missa în do minor) soliști au fost Natalie Dessay, Lisa Larsson, Emanuel-Cristian Carman și Simon Kirkbride.

Multă lume venise special pt Natalie Dessay, care a fost extrem de bună, dar nu genială. Probabil și pentru că a avut un acces de tuse înainte să intre pe scenă, am auzit.  Mi-a plăcut în schimb extrem de mult Lisa Larsson. Tenorul nu m-a dat pe spate. Și îmi pare rău să zic că românul a fost cel mai slab. Dar n-avea volum. Ca tehnică era ok. Și pe bas l-am auzit f puțin, na.

Oricum, au fost f buni soliștii, cu toate ornamentele alea mozartiene and stuff. Adică Missa chiar a sunat f f bine.

E, after all that m-am dus la Parov Stelar. În Krystal. Da, știu, nici eu nu m-aș duce acolo. Mai ales când e deschiderea. DAR. A fost Parov Stelar. + Band.

Am ajuns pe la 1 și ceva. Concertul începuse în jur de 1 am înțeles. Dar chiar dacă am ajuns la jumătatea lui tot a meritat. Serios a meritat. Era atât de multă lume și era atâta energie și era totul… Da, era viu. Era nice. Și erau unii care clar veniseră la deschiderea Krystal, nu la concert, niște cocalari mai exact. Dar nu mulți. Sau nu i-am văzut eu. Am văzut însă mulți indie-people. Fetițe în rochițe și cu fundițe în păr and stuff.

Și, pe scurt, azi s-a terminat festivalul. Cu Suisse Romande și al lor Marek Janowski.N-am fost prea atentă la concert, to be honest with you, dar la bis au cântat partea a 3a din simfonia a 3a de brahms which was brilliant. i love that one.

a, și azi am primit cadou un vinil cu kate bush. yay! mai mult decat yay! de fapt: wow!

superb.

Chiles
Santa Fe, New Mexico

I’ve been looking for a good excuse to visit Santa Fe for quite some time. Natalie Dessay gave me one.

She was to appear at the Santa Fe Opera, a spectacular venue I have longed to see in person.

I had to go.

Since you probably don’t read my blog for my opera reviews, I’ll move on to the eating portion of my trip.*

New Mexico sky

Hand-in-hand with its vibrant arts community, Santa Fe has a small, but focused, restaurant scene. With a high percentage of jet-set and wealthy visitors from afar, the restaurants in this tiny town are used to catering to a somewhat sophisticated audience.

Pro: The menus I saw boasted high-quality ingredients.  In line with the progressive and hippie nature of the local population, the restaurants emphasized sustainable and organic agriculture.  Produce was notably fresh, spices were vibrant and alive, and meats were full of flavor.

Con: Prices were uniformly inflated.

Although I had a good variety of recommendations for restaurants, I chose to stick largely to the old favorites – the restaurants, like Cafe Pasqual’s and Geronimo, that first made Santa Fe an object of dining interest nearly two decades ago.

Here is where I ate:

Cafe Jean-Pierre
Cafe Pasqual’s
Coyote Cafe and Cantina
Geronimo
The Shed
Terra at Encantado Auberge & Resort
tune-up cafe

Loretto Chapel
Santa Fe, New Mexico

I’ll hyperlink this list to the reviews when they get posted in the coming weeks (or, months, more likely).

Santa Fe and its environs offer more than just food and opera.

At an elevation of 8,000 ft. above sea level, the air is considerably thinner in Santa Fe, making the sky a brilliant and dazzling sight to be hold.  Clouds sweep by with an added touch of drama. And at night, there are countless more stars in the sky.

Although I had hoped to eat in Taos, my drive up there was limited to a short time.  The pueblo – which I had specifically driven up there to see was, unfortunately closed.  But a short journey outside of that town rewarded me with a breathtaking walk over the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge.  The bridge looks its age: constructed over forty yeas ago.  It rattled and shook with the passing of large trucks. It is not for the faint of heart.

New Mexico sky

I wasn’t able to make it out to Georgia O’Keeffe’s home in Abiquiui, but I did visit the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum in downtown Santa Fe. She is an amazing woman with an amazing story.

Lastly, while killing some time before my flight back, I went for a nice hike through the Rinconada Valley in the Petroglyph National Monument, near Albuquerque.

* The Santa Fe Opera is set in the mountains and is exposed to the elements. It makes for a wonderful evening if the weather is as gorgeous as it was the night I went. Holding steady in the upper 60s (Farenheit, of course) the occasional breeze that drifted through the house was quite lovely.

Tailgating
Santa Fe Opera

Pre-opera tailgating is a huge past time. We’re not talking beer and grills. These hoity toits set up camp with linen-lined card tables, bottles of wine, boards of cheeses and fine meats, and multi-coursed dinners. The view, if you manage to park toward the look-out, is fantastic. The opera has also set up a couple of designated picnic areas with tables and benches.

It is somewhat unfortunate that Ms. Dessay was not to appear in a more interesting production. For me, “La Traviata” holds all the appeal and excitement of watching my neighbor (who is not a super-model) mow the lawn. It features one of the biggest schmucks in all of operadom (Germont), and boasts one of the most abusively agonizing deathbed scenes this side of “La Boheme,” with the heroine hopping in and out of bed until she draws her long-overdue, last breath. It’s an opera that’s repeatedly cursed by unimaginative productions like the one I last saw earlier this year in February.

Santa Fe Opera

Thankfully, this production was made bearable – and at times quite enjoyable – by a strong cast. The vocal talent was solid. I’m not convinced that Dessay was in her finest form, but she was wonderful all the same. [It is a pity I missed seeing Dessay and her husband (L. Naouri) sing opposite each other (he played the roll of the schmuck for the majority of the season). His engagement ended before the last two performances (for reasons unknown to me, but anticipated by the playbill).]

The set, which had been heavily criticized, I found quite compelling, a reflection of the local landscape: the large, dark boxes stacked on a rise with walkways and stair steps woven throughout looked like a mountainside tumble of boulders. This set was used to great effect in the second act, when the stage was convincingly converted to a mountain-side stretch of green, with the “boulders” peeking out here and there.

More opera which is not boring.

This is a clip from a remarkable production, of which I was hitherto unaware, of Offenbach’s Orpheus in the Underworld. We all know the “Can-Can” from this work, something of an essence of Parisian naughtiness. This production, however, breaks new ground. Briefly, the opera spoofs reverent musical redactions of classical mythology, and gives us an Orpheus and Eurydice who are both bored with their relationship and stepping out with other people. Eurydice, alas, runs off to the Underworld with Pluto, who’s even more tiresome as a lover than Orpheus, but never fear, Jupiter — in one of his many animal disguises, this one a fly — turns up to save the day.

Just so you know, it’s OK, they’re actually married IRL.

Bzzzzz.

When war breaks out in the lull of summer 1914, it surprises and pulls millions of men in its wake. Christmas arrives, with its snow and multitude of family and army presents. But the surprise won’t come from inside the generous parcels which lie in the French, Scottish, and German trenches. That night, a momentous event will turn the destinies of four characters: an Anglican priest, a French lieutenant, an exceptional German tenor and the one he loves, a soprano and singing partner. During this Christmas Eve, the unthinkable happens: soldiers come out of their trenches, leaving their rifles behind to shake hands with the enemy.

A fotógrafa francesa Brigitte Lacombe está desde 1975 usando suas câmeras para documentar os bastidores do cinema. Federico Fellini, Steven Spielberg, Martin Scorsese, Spike Jonze, Mike Nichols e tantos outros cineastas já a convidaram para fotografar seus sets, produzir fotos de divulgação de seus filmes e clicar retratos tecnicamente perfeitos de seus astros e estrelas. O portfólio de Brigitte Lacombe é repleto de belas imagens, sobretudo em PB. No site da fotógrafa, você encontra um bom apanhado de seu trabalho. Aqui compilo meus preferidos, pinçados de fontes diversas:

A soprano Natalie Dessay

Javier Bardem

Jeanne Moreau

John Malkovich, Uma Thurman e Swoozie Kurtz no set de Ligações perigosas

Jude Law

Kate Winslet

Kate Winslet no set de O leitor

Kate Winslet

Leonardo DiCaprio

Leonardo DiCaprio e Martin Scorsese no set de O aviador

Leonardo DiCaprio no set de O aviador

Mick Jagger e Jerry Hall

Nicole Kidman

Nicole Kidman no set de Cold mountain

Quentin Tarantino

Robert DeNiro e Martin Scorsese

Kirsten Dunst no set de Maria Antonieta

Susan Sarandon

Tilda Swinton

Tom Cruise

Vanessa Redgrave

Isabelle Huppert

Bob Dylan

Daniel Day-Lewis

Dustin Hoffman

Hi!  I just had the most amazing weekend in Santa Fe.  Well it was Sunday-Thursday, but it had the feeling like a long weekend.

It was so great.  Like, all of it.  It was just so great!  I usually temper my enthusiasm more than that, but it was really one of the best vacations I’ve ever taken, even though I was working like the whole time.  It was all work I love.

It was my first time in the Southwest.  I’ve been to Vegas plenty, and Denver for one day, but that’s it.  It was so beautiful!!!  I have a thing for mountains.  I guess from growing up in the Midwest, where there aren’t any!  But I just feel so great when I see a mountainous landscape, and the scenery around Albuquerque and New Mexico was amazing.

The weather was great.  The first two days it rained on-and-off, but it was never overwhelming.  It rained and then it stopped.  The sky is so big and long there that even when it’s raining you can see the clear skies in the distance.

I was staying with the son of the producer of the opera I’m doing this summer.  He’s a producer, like a producer of like albums, not a producer of like operas.  He and his girlfriend were cool, we all went out to a big dinner the first night and they introduced me to New Mexico cuisine, which is its own thing.  We had a vegetarian dish called Chiles rellenos which was delicious and didn’t resemble anything else.

Albuquerque I was only in very briefly, it was pretty but I didn’t see much- just had some coffee in the Old Town (is that what it’s called?) before heading to Santa Fe to meet my hosts.  Santa Fe was a great town.  The Plaza was wayyyy to touristy for me, but once you got away from there the town was just right.  What does it remind me of?  Maybe Cusco, Peru?  Drastic mountains, indiginous people alongside non, tons of tourists but they don’t own the town, lots of local crafts, nice weather, a little altitude chill at night.

Monday I swung by the Opera just to introduce myself.  Everyone was so nice!  They were going to give me a personal tour, but at that point it was raining so we decided to hold off.  That night I played in a sort of open mic at the Tin Star Saloon. It wasn’t really that much of an open mic, though.  It was more of one big pick-up band playing standardy stuff.  But they let me play solo, so I played a couple songs (they told me as many as I wanted, I played three and they insisted on a fourth- that never happens in actual open mics!), and spent the rest of the time hanging out and chatting.  I really liked the people I met.  I tried to rustle up an audience for my gig Tuesday, though most of the people I talked to told me they couldn’t come but would talk me up to their friends.

Tuesday was the big day- my interview with Natalie Dessay AND my gig at the Santa Fe Brewing Company Pub & Grill.  I hardly slept, though I’m not sure if that’s because I was nervous (very rare for me) or because I had slept 13 hours the night before and couldn’t get on a real-person schedule.

I got to the opera house early for my personal guided tour.  Everything is outside!  The theatre, all the rehearsal spaces, the cafeteria seating.  They have a pool, too.  I saw a lot of rehearsals- a really, really promising-sounding Don Giovanni on the mainstage, Alceste with Christine Brewer, and The Letter (a world premier) with Patricia Racette.  I should have done my homework- if I’d realized what amazing people were hanging out on “campus,” I could have knocked off a bunch of interviews on one trip!  Seriously, it seems like Santa Fe is the place to be this summer.

My host had lent me an insane recording device, the Zoom H4, and I totally totally have to NEED TO buy one, like NOW.  It was amazing.  I tested it in my room and the sound was shockingly clear.  Only problem is it looks like a taser- I’m afraid I’d have problems bringing it on airplanes… Anyways it took me forever to get it set up in a way where I could just leave it on the table, but it wouldn’t pick up too much background noise (it was lunchtime and the whole organization was sitting around the Cantina chatting over “Frito pie”), so I’m glad I had extra that time to get set up.

Natalie Dessay came with her husband, Laurent Naouri- I invited him to join us but he was checking his email.  Anyways I spoke to them both in French just to impress them, but we conducted the interview in English.

First thing was I gave Mme Dessay a gift- this French book based on the Dialogues of the Carmelites story that’s so obscure I can’t even find so much of an image of it online.  (It’s called “Autres dialogues des Carmelites, qui suivent pas-a-pas le cheminement historique” and it’s a more historically accurate retelling of the story.)  Something I bought at the esoterica branch of the used bookstore chain Gilbert Jeune in Paris, randomly discovered half off on the outside clearance rack.  I read it and really enjoyed it, and since I had read that Mme Dessay wanted to sing the role of Blanche, I thought she’d be interested.  I was right on all accounts- she did a double-take at the book, having never heard of it before, and we talked about the opera and her intentions of singing it.

So then we had the interview, I asked her about Traviata and everything I’d been wanting to ask her.  We talked a lot about acting, since I knew that’s what she’s most interested in.  I was hesitant to bring up her nodes and subsequent surgery from several years ago, but she brought it up herself twice before I even thought of it, so finally I went with it.  The most interesting things she said were about that, but you’ll have to wait for the article to read it!

I usually conduct really long interviews, but I felt that I had asked all the questions I wanted to before half an hour was up.  So I let her go, giving her my card in case she had anything to add.  When she saw that I was a singer too, she became instantly interested.  This was the most surprising thing of all for me.  Instead of being like, “Oh yes of course, another singer, I’m surrounded by 50 other singers right now and I’m being interviewed about singing for a singer magazine, whatever,” she became like intensely interested in asking me about my career and stuff.  I’m not sure if it’s because she’s interested in how young American singers make their careers (we had talked about American training and opp0rtunities young singers) or if she just had an intuition about me (if only she knew how much we have in common!), but she asked me a lot of questions, and seemed genuinely interested in my story.  I tried not to talk about myself too much (I usually try not to let on at first to anyone how insane my life is because it’s just too much to process), but I couldn’t help but answer her inquisitive gaze with some nuggets, musical and otherwise.  As a result, we kinda made some plans for next time she’s in New York in the Spring.  Sweet.  But yeah it was so touching how much she seemed genuinely interested.  The most brilliant people I know, though, are fascinated by other human beings.  So I guess it makes sense.

She took off suddenly when her husband established a Skype connection with I-don’t-know-who, and I followed her interview up with a briefer one with David Holloway.  I’m working on an article about directors who want singers to move around when they act versus those who want you to stand still, and stuff like that.  That can all be done by email, but I figured, since I was there, and I do like to talk to people face-to-face, I might as well kill two birds with one stone.  So I asked the press office if there was someone I could talk to, and they recommended Mr. Holloway.  They were right- he was totally intense.  And gave me exactly the information I needed.  Wait for the article, people!

Since the interview with Dessay was so short, I managed to transcribe the entire thing before leaving for my gig.

There was almost no one at the Pub and Grill, but two tourists came in in time to hear my set.  They were so enthusiastic- one laughed so hard during “The Reason” that I almost lost it myself- that they wouldn’t let me leave the stage when my set was long since over.  I played every song I knew, plus some opera arias.  They totally made the night worth it, they were so fun.  I hung out with them afterwards, while I enjoyed my free beer and sandwich.  Mmm, sweet potato fries.

Wednesday, since I had checked off my interview with Mr. Holloway the day before, I had some free time.  Everyone kept talking about how amazing the hiking was, but all I had brought with me were dresses and strappy heels, and I was very sad not to be able to partake of the hiking.  But not sad enough to buy new shoes.  My host recommended I take a drive through Hyde Park to the ski lodge to enjoy the scenery and the view, so I did.  It was pretty frickin nice.  Just what I needed.  Then I went to Burt’s Burger Bowl for a French Coke, which was sooooo yummy.  I don’t know how they make something so delicious out of Coca-Cola.

So the opera company comped me a free ticket to see Dessay’s Traviata that night.  They gave me a really good seat, plus a press parking pass, use of the press room during intermission (including the bathroom with no line), and even a free poster. I got such the VIP treatment all week (they even invited me to use their pool, though that’s not really my scene) that I felt guilty and wanted to tell them I’m not actually important.  I mean, they knew I was there to interview Natalie and not to review their opera.  But at least I can review it in my role of blogger.  I loved the Traviata.  Pelly’s production was really cool, it totally worked, most of it was visually interesting, there was symbolism but not to the point that it was too much of a stretch with the staging, the costumes and behavior of the character were of course not period, and very much over the edge in their excesses, but it was what they were going for and it worked.  And Dessay was the most beautiful Violetta I’ve ever seen.  I’d be lying if I said she was 100% on spot vocally (I’ve only seen her live twice, I don’t know if she’s ever 100% vocally, but most people aren’t, even among the pros), but you didn’t even care.  And I’m picky.  You just loved her character so much.  And I do love her voice.

Look for the interview extremely soon- the cover story of the September issue.  You’ll love it.  Buy it, order it, get it somehow, even if you don’t subscribe to Classical Singer.  It’s a really great interview.  I can’t take credit for that beyond requesting to track her down for an interview because I knew she would have just the best things to say.

So, New Mexico, two thumbs up.  Santa Fe Opera, two thumbs up.  Natalie Dessay, two thumbs up.  Pelly’s production, two thumbs up.  This is one for the Amanda White annals of history, folks- I never give unqualified approvals like that.

I still am kinda feeling a floaty buzz from the whole week’s experience.

The idea of production effecting the opera at its core–a combination of words and music–came up in last week’s Monteverdi and Sant’Alessio viewing/listenings.  Which, natuerlich, got me thinking about opera in performance today, especially in light of Anne Midgette’s recent post in the WashPost’s Classical Beat.  Though talking about symphonies, a truly different beast, her central idea is a clear crossover:

“Of course, today’s symphony orchestra is essentially a 19th-century phenomenon; as Fischer said, it hasn’t fundamentally changed for 100 years. But what does it mean, in concrete terms, to change an orchestra? No one wants to throw the baby out with the bathwater and eliminate artistic standards, quality, the ability to play Mahler symphonies.”

This is light-years beyond where I’m at in the Opster Project, but I was in a Massenet mood this weekend and, while listening to the San’Sulpice scene from Manon, was struck at how many different ways this piece could be performed.  And, thanks to YouTube, I was able to sate my curiosity very easily.

There is the purely institutionalized version which, unfortunately, has to come out of the Met–the most famous opera company of the US, if not the world.  It lacks a modern edge and the performances of Vargas and Phlegming Fleming remind me more of two fat people wrestling over the last Milk Dud than it does of two people full of conflict, passion, and hormones a-go-go.  It was embarassing to watch this as they fought towards grandeur with every note, each in their own world and leaving the audience wondering where the fire was, where the passion was.

Not eager to further subject myself to Renaaaaay but interested in seeing as many points of view possible, this was a slightly more on-target production with a more minimal set and the added fire of Marcelo Alvarez, though again they lacked a certain connection that, while imperative in any opera, is uber-important when you’re doing a scene as former lovers, one attempting to reconcile, the other attempting to repent, fighting it out to see which one will win (spoiler alert: the soprano wins).

In one of my freshman theatre seminars, we read Grotowski’s “Towards a Poor Theatre,” which argued that theatre would never be able to compete with television and film in terms of grandeur, so the best theatre should go in the opposite direction entirely.  I sometimes think about what Grotowski would say to the Met, or at least the old, Joe Volpe/Rudolph Bing Met which was full of camels and chandeliers.  It’s upsetting to see our country, a country that was not a part of the creation of opera, still married to the “tradition” of grand theatre, a tradition that they more or less adopted from the European houses and a tradition that is, for the most part, all but dead in Europe.  There are some notable exceptions, and ironically not all of them have to do with age–this Sills/Price San’Sulpice is almost as old as Fleming (or at least Fleming’s birth certificate), yet it is focused entirely on the singers.  There is barely a set, but their energy fills the room.  Sills is sensual in a way that would still make some people call “scandale!” today.   It’s clear here that a production is a living, breathing thing and even the best set can be useless without the right singers/performers.

The two that really got me going, however, were both–ironically–with Anna Netrebko sliding into Manon in Vienna (with Roberto Alagna) and Berlin (with Rolando Villazon).  The Villazon shows restraint, particularly physically with the gates of San’Sulpice separating the lovers.  It’s cruel, acerbic, and spiteful, and ultimately worn down by Netrebs.  But she seems a tad out of place at times, for split seconds it’s as though she’s morphing out of Manon and back into Anna.  Not so with Alagna.  The violent passion mirrors, serves, and enhances Massenet’s score–what every opera production ought to do.  What’s more, it’s as hot as any Brangelina clip.  Show this scene to a bunch of 20 and 30 somethings and there won’t be a dry seat in the house.

And then there’s the one where they almost go too far to the other side, thanks to Natalie Dessay who, while bringing the crazy beautifully in the Met’s Lucia, seems to lack a purpose to her marble-tossing here.

Production study such as this is also innumerably helpful to singers, particularly in researching new (or at least new-to-them) roles.  Ultimately you want to create a character that’s true to your own self as much as it’s true to the composer and librettist.  There’s more than one way to skin a cat, there’s more than one way to sing Manon.  With only one exception, each of these Manons truly works in its own unique way.  The marketers and administrators for opera houses–and in most industries these days–talk about authentically connecting with new audience members/customers through copy, advertising, and the internet, but we also must remember that one of the other vital forms of authentic connection is through the performers themselves.

How beautiful the Queen of Night, on high
Her way pursuing among scattered clouds,
Where, ever and anon, her head she shrouds
Hidden from view in dense obscurity.
But look, and to the watchful eye
A brightening edge will indicate that soon
We shall behold the struggling Moon
Break forth,–again to walk the clear blue sky.

- William Wordsworth, 1846

Mozart, Die Zauberflöte
Natalie Dessay, Paris, 2001

]]> http://oliviagiovetti.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/quando_rapito_in_twitter/ Mon, 27 Apr 2009 02:34:06 +0000 cultureonthecheap http://oliviagiovetti.wordpress.com/2009/04/26/quando_rapito_in_twitter/

So today, amid no furniture, I watched the re-broadcast of Lucia di Lammermoor from the Met in HD series.  I think the Met in HD is a great idea still getting its legs.  This production was worlds better than the Boheme I saw with Gheorghiu and Vargas last year, but when we saw it in theatres my boyfriend and I were the only people with all of their original teeth.

What started as a few Tweets in reaction to seeing this production on the small screen and on our home turf turned into a full blown Live Tweet of the performance–a concept many opera, dance, and orchestral companies are considering implementing into their concert series.  This reminds me of Vancouver Opera’s recent Blogger Night at the Opera, allowing a live-feed but with less pressure to write longer posts.  In fact, the bite-sized comments, facts, thoughts, questions, praises, and critiques are the perfect medium to allow a continual flow during the performance without causing Tweeps to get too caught up in what to say.  Most of these tweets took me all of five seconds to hammer out.  More blog platforms (including WordPress, on which this blog is hosted) are also offering templates that allow for these Bridget Jones-like entries, which could be kept for posterity on the company website (and not clog up a ton of Twitter/Facebook feeds, which is exactly what I inflicted on my poor, unsuspecting friends and colleagues).

But what really would have been fun is to have gone head-to-head, tweet-to-tweet with a Met staffer who had worked on the piece, offering two sides of the coin.

The impressions from my side are below (read from the bottom up)…

• And we’re at curtain, concluding my live Tweeting of the Lucia broadcast. Which, if nothing else, clogged up everyone’s feeds quite nicely.
• I got nothing new to say for Tu Che a Dio; except that in the Who’s Afraid of Opera version, they do it first. (Thanks, Mom)
• These mourners totally remind me of Eleanor Rigby.
• Technically, it’s good. But Beczala is losing me in the final inning pathos-wise. Maybe Rolando > Piotr? http://tiny.cc/SVphO
• Finally, a high note!
• Sorry, Anna. You can never, ever top Dessay’s scream (@ 7:52 in this clip): http://tiny.cc/EGrYY
• Revisiting the sexual tension between Lucia & Enrico by having her imagine him as Edgardo. Love these little intricacies.
• Anthony, this one’s for you: Where’s the high E?
• But kind of amazing how I didn’t pick up on the missed notes in the mad scene the first time around.
• Seeing the mad scene again is making me think this isn’t Anna’s role. Or it isn’t her time for the role. But she’s such. A. Good. Actress.
• (Spoiler alert): With all this teetering on suicide from Lucia and Edgardo, why does L’s ghost need to help E shove the knife in @ the end?
• You could save that set for Rusalka and do a killer “Song to the Moon.”
• Raimondo totally knows that all hell is about to break loose. And then enter Lucia.
• Can someone explain the red dress to white dress switch? Were they doing an Asian wedding in 19th Century Scotland?
• There’s barely anything on the set but two amazing singers. Yes, that’s really all you need.
• Dear Mariusz Kwiecien (Part II): You can run me through with your conquering sword any time
• I’m tempted to make a Polish joke, but Beczala and Kwiecien going at it in the oft-cut scene is just too damn good.
• And, as always, thanks to Viewers Like You. I think that was one of my first sentences as a kid.
• And now a word from our sponsors: Thanks, Toll Brothers! Rock on Irene Diamond Fund! Go NEA! Love Vivian Milstein! Hats off to CPB!
• G-d, between that top note and the scrim that comes down at the end I could live in the Act 2 finale.
• I love this one chorus member who knows, because he’s behind Netrebs, he’ll probably be on camera and works it like he’s on ANTM.
• I’m so picky about Enrico’s “Rispondi,” and Beczala knocks it out of the park. (Wish the Yankees could do the same…)
• Oh, shut up, R, you totally want them to kill one another. That “lives by the sword” bit is irony at its finest.
• Still can’t decide how I feel about the sextet staging. But boy is it clever. Especially when Lucia PTFO’s.
• Enrico is such a shyster.
• Is the Raim./Luc. duet really necessary? I get that it adds to R’s profile as the orchestrator of the tragedy, but it’s not working for me.
• Aaaaand now Netrebs is singing from the floor. I forgot about this part–the gift that keeps on giving! (Seriously)
• This productions remains one of the best explorations of the character of Enrico. Wish they had given Raimondo the prominence he’s due.
• This Lucia/Enrico relationship borders on incestuous at times in that sort of Donna Tartt/”The Secret History” kind of way.
• Geez, some of these camera angles just scream “bad indie film.” And don’t do Netrebs and her baby weight any favors.
• Ha! I never noticed that ghostface killa makes an appearance in the background of the Act II opening as well.
• Oh, are we not doing intermission chats? Was that only if I paid $25 for a movie ticket and sat in a room full of septuagenarians?
• Still, I love me a full-throated tenor.
• Piotr Beczala > Rolando Villazon (maybe), but needs more pathos in the voice. What was that “Ah, Lucia” about?
• I guess I’m live-Tweeting this Lucia-cast (after seeing it in HD in Feb.): Anna Netrebko sees dead people.
• Dear Mariusz Kwiecien: I can’t decide on what I love more; your name or your sustained note at the end of Act I Scene i.
• My apartment may be nearly empty, but at least I have Lucia on PBS to fill the void.

I had so many things to say about Mary Zimmerman’s production of Bellini’s La Sonnambula before ever seeing it that I have finally decided that I ought to see it – at the movie theatre. 

My first problem with the Met’s new Sonnambula was its selling feature. In the words of Peter Gelb himself, Bellini’s comédie larmoyante would have a helplessly flimsy libretto and ergo it needs help from the likes of Mary Zimmerman and Natalie Dessay. The idea that such a well-loved masterpiece should be fixed by a clueless stage director and a soi-disante intellectualized diva is simply disgusting and put me immediately in a negative disposition.

To start with, there is nothing wrong or stupid or undramatic about La Sonnambula’s plot – it is an insightful study on the theme of innocence, more precisely its “ideal type”, the ingénue. In a backwards Swiss village, the beautiful Amina, an orphan raised by an adoptive mother, is engaged to the local prospective good catch, Elvino. Everybody is radiant about the upcoming wedding but Lisa, the village’s resident bitch and Elvino’s former girlfriend. While Lisa has a sexy thing about her, Amina is the sort of angelic beauty with modest manners. Apart from Lisa, everybody is exultant about what promises to be a marriage made in Heaven. However, there is always a little hell hidden in every heaven – and the arrival of Count Rodolfo adds a little spice to the proceedings.

As soon as the gentleman sees Amina, he is immeditaly smitten by the girl’s artless charm. Surprisingly, the girl unconsciously responds the Count’s gallantry, what triggers a jealous fit for Elvino, who proves to be increasingly charmless, whiny and ultimately unseductive. But the girl is an angel, the boy is a decent fellow and they make peace.

Because of a ghost that haunts the place, the villagers return to their homes early in the evening – and the Count takes a room in Lisa’s hostel (ah, Lisa has a job too). Lisa tries to seduce the Count, but they hear some noise nearby and she goes away before someone sees her alone with a man in his room. The noise proves to be Amina in her nightgown. She is a sleepwalker and by sheer accident, of all rooms in the village, she shows up at the Count’s room. Although the girl is innocent, the events that took place that afternoon spurred thoughts in her mind about her wedding night and she is presently fantasising about that.  She embraces the Count while calling Elvino - and the way she calls him reveal hidden sparks. The whole event is too much for the Count’s steadfastness and he decides to leave the room before things get out of control. But Lisa sees everything and , in the next morning, invents a pretext to have the whole village witness that Amina had slept in the Count’s room. The engagement is broken to the bewildered girl’s dismay.

Obviously, on a conscious level, Amina is innocent – but the sleepwalking theme is used to put things on an unconscious level. The encounter with the Count revealed the kind of arousal she obviously never had with Elvino and her repressed instincts led her to the events that caused her rejection by her fiancé.

After an attempted rebound wedding with Lisa, Elvino witnesses one of Amina’s episodes of somnambulism during which the girl almost dies while lamenting the loss of Elvino’s love. Regretful, he  wakes her up and, in jubilant coloratura, she says she is in a “heaven of love”. Curiously, the librettist leaves to our imagination what she is going to do with the fact that Elvino won’t make her toes curl.

If we remember all that was written before the days of psychology, I would say that the plot is even quite clever. But Zimmerman and Dessay’s Marie-Claire-reading-worldweariness doesn’t do coyness – and they decided that the audience wants more. But the problem remains that Dessay is still a soprano leggiero and Zimmerman won’t ever be invited to direct Die Frau ohne Schatten. But that’s no problem if you transform the Swiss village into a rehearsal room, if Amina becomes an opera diva, Elvino her co-star and boyfriend, Lisa a stage director, the Count is probably an impresario, Lisa´s inn… Lisa’s inn is still the rehearsal room… and the rich impresario has to sleep in a hospital bed in the rehearsal room… and Amina also has to sleep there… actually she sleepwalks through the Met’s audience… and then she gets to the rehearsal room… and the choristers are so horrified to discover that the diva probably had, omygod, sex with the impresario that they tear all their sheet music away… As you see, this actually makes more sense than La Sonnambula’s libretto as written…

In any case, if I hadn’t read anything before I got to the movie theatre, I would say that there is still something to cherish. The sets are beautiful, the chorus members are extremely well directed with clearly defined personalities and, if Zimmerman really tried to solve the (many) loose ends in her concept, the whole idea of a show in the show could have worked. Maybe if Amina were not an opera diva, but the star of a high-school musical, maybe if Rodolfo were a handsome school teacher and if their scene happened in the house of Lisa, a rival teenager – maybe it could have worked in a Splendor-in-the-grass way. But if you take the naïveté out of the equation, the whole thing looks really silly.

Curiously, in spite of the present unfocused and colourless quality of Natalie Dessay’s high register, her Amina seemed to me far more convincing than her Lucia. She made more of the words and could conjure a girly and sweet tone when necessary. An ideal Amina would need more artlessness, more directness – this is a role that must go straight to the heart and eschew any braininess. Dessay falls more than once in the trap of coquettishness – and that is a no go. As for Juan Diego Flórez, although the tone is not attractive and does not ideally float in the tender moments of his duets with Amina, his phrasing is clean and accurate, his acuti are firm and exciting and he is truly engaged. I would say that both pale before Michele Pertusi’s elegant Rodolfo. This was one of the best performances I have seen from this singer. It is a pity, though, that Jennifer Black’s soprano is foreign to bel canto. Evelino Pidò’s expert conducting should be mentioned. At least as caught by the microphone, he could produce rich sounds without drowning his singers and always found tempi that made it comfortable for them to deal with their difficult florid lines.

With Natalie Dessay and Juan Diego Flores as the lovers Amina and Elvino, this promised to be a superb performance and it was. Their singing and their rapport with one another was a joy to behold, and with Jennifer Black singing beautifully as the jealous Lisa, and Michele Pertusi equally eloquent as Count Rodolfo, the whole thing went swimmingly, under excellent musical direction from Evelino Pido.

The production by Mary Zimmerman transposed the action into the modern world, but with a strange twist. It was all played as a rehearsal, with the setting for each scene written on a blackboard. The first sleepwalking scene, where Amina eventually reaches the Count’s room, started with her walking down one of the aisles in the audience. This worked well, and I liked the rehearsal aspect of the production. But what really counted was the orchestral playing and the singing, and this was as a good as it gets. Congratulations to the Met for another superb live cinema screening, with the intermission items well presented by Deborah Voigt.

I make no attempt to be Opera Chic or La Cieca, but several press outlets had some choice words on Sonnambula.  Just goes to show that high budgets does not always yield good results.  Just look at Gotham Chamber Opera.

Dessay and Florez in the Met's Sonnambula

“Gimmicks, gimmicks, gimmicks. When La sonnambula was last ventured by the Met, the staging was tacky. At least it was traditional-tacky, and a cast led by Renata Scotto, Nicolai Gedda and Giorgio Tozzi provided stellar distraction. The company waited 36 years for a new production of Bellini’s poignant yet fragile period piece, but the presentation on Monday turned out to be no such thing. This was Mary Zimmerman’s distortion of the original, a travesty in which the action constantly fights the score.” — The Financial Times

“I have no problem with updating opera or reinterpreting it, as long as the whole thing hangs together. But in order to work, it has to make sense. This production managed to follow the contours of the story while making no sense at all.”–The Washington Post

“…exasperating…hopelessly absurd…As a directorial concept, “This is just a rehearsal” has become almost as clichéd as “It’s all a dream.” So despite its seeming boldness, Ms. Zimmerman’s staging, the first Met production of the work since 1972, comes across as a cop-out.”–The New York Times

“Stranger concepts have succeeded in the opera house, but Zimmerman’s ideas lacked both conviction and consistency. Why, for example, did the chorus tear its music into confetti during the first-act finale?…Even the finale, with the entire company decked out in glitzy Swiss costumes for a campy “Springtime for Hitler” production number, puzzled more than it pleased.”–The New York Post

At least we got a recent beautiful production out of the Santa Fe Opera (also featuring Dessay):

Dessay as Santa Fe's Sonnambula

Word on the street is that Mary Zimmerman and the design team for the Met’s new production of La Sonnambula (which debuted tonight using the show-within-a-show concept) were booed at tonight’s curtain call.  Disappointing, as I loved La Zimmerman’s Lucia from last year and I’m just starting to appreciate La Dessay (pictured above in a promo shot for the production).

Updates to follow.

UPDATE: Check out the MP3 here (Click the Listen link on the page…)

UPDATE: Here it is in video:

I estudiant per al concert de la setmana que ve, tres versions ben diferents de “Glitter and be gay”, que canta la histèrica Cunegonda al musical Candide de Bernstein.

La primera, Natalie Dessay, soprano clàssica donde las haya, amb uns sobreaguts envejables i una dolçor en el timbre que ja voldríem moltes…

La segona és la ja abans esmentada Kristin Chenoweth, la superdiva dles musicals (Glinda en Wicked, entre d’altres). Ojo al momento twang en el minuto 1:27…

De fet aquesta dona ja parla bastant twangejat tota l’estona, diria jo. I sí, és molt expressiva, i li treu bastant de partit a la combinació de les dues maneres de cantar. Potser els sobreaguts un poquet tibants per al meu gust… i no hi ha l’exhibició del La sobreagut de la Dessay… Però és que la tercera és Diana Damrau, que en la meva opinió clava aquest número com ningú.

No només fa servir registres tan diferents com els de la Chenoweth, sinó que a més cada frase que diu l’aprofita al màxim, cada gir de tècnica està estretament relacionat amb el text… Els primers “haha” entre dents, després més convençuts, el moment “droop my wings”, “I’ll take the diamond necklace”… Y para colmo, toma la sobreagut al final. Per mi, un 10!

I tot això perquè la setmana que ve toquem l’obertura de Candide amb la banda. Però això és un altre post!

Ah! lyrics aquí:Glitter and be gay
That’s the part I play
Here I am in Paris, France
Forced to bend my soul
To a sordid role
Victimized by bitter, bitter circumstance
Alas for me! Had I remained
Beside my lady mother
My virtue had remained unstained
Until my maiden hand was gained
By some Grand Duke or other

Ah, ’twas not to be
Harsh necessity
Brought me to this gilded cage
Born to higher things
Here I droop my wings
Ah! Singing of a sorrow nothing can assuage

And yet of course I rather like to revel
Ha ha!
I have no strong objection to champagne
Ha ha!
My wardrobe is expensive as the devil
Ha ha!
Perhaps it is ignoble to complain…

Enough, enough
Of being basely tearful!
I’ll show my noble stuff
By being… Uh… Bright and cheerful!
Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha!

Pearls and ruby rings…
Ah, how can worldly things
Take the place of honor lost?
Can they compensate
For my fallen state
Purchased as they were at such an awful cost?

Bracelets… Lavalieres…
Can they dry my tears?
Can they blind my eyes to shame?
Can the brightest brooch
Shield me from reproach?
Can the purest diamond purify my name?

And yet of course these trinkets are endearing
Ha ha!
I’m oh, so glad my sapphire is a star
Ha ha!
I rather like a twenty-carat earring
Ha ha!
If I’m not pure, at least my jewels are!

Enough! Enough!
I’ll take their diamond necklace
And show my noble stuff
By being… Gay and reckless!
Ha ha ha ha ha! Ha!

Observe how bravely I conceal
The dreadful, dreadful shame I feel
Ha ha ha ha!

Creo que nunca en mi corta vida me había maravillado tanto como al escuchar a la soprano coloratura Natalie Dessay, y he escuchado a unas cuantas… Nadie que me transmita tanto, nadie a quien admirar tan profundamente. Su voz es tan perfecta y armoniosa, en mi opinión está en el justo medio, no es ni demasiado oscura ni demasiado clara, no sé si me entienden. Es como cuando te formas una imagen ideal en tu cabeza y de repente ves esa idea materializada, delante de ti. Ese control, esa agilidad, esa ejecución limpia y perfecta de los más complicados stacatto y su increíble fuerza expresiva. Confieso que siento envidia, pero de la buena, de la que es pura admiración. A veces me llena de esperanza y otros días me dan ganas de no cantar nunca más, me avergüenzo profundamente de llamarme soprano. Quizá su técnica no sea la mejor del mundo, no lo sé pues no me considero una experta, pero lo que sí sé es lo que siento al escucharla, cuando dejo a un lado el análisis técnico, dejo de pensar y me dejo hipnotizar… Sé que no puedo escuchar su interpretación de Doll song (Olympia en los Cuentos de Hoffman) sin dibujar una sonrisa, me alegra el día.

En fin, la boca se me llena de palabras vacías al intentar describir su voz, así que sólo queda escucharla.

Els camins d’Internet són inescrutables i, si tens temps per perdre-t’hi, no saps si arribaràs a Roma o a qui sap on. El pretext, veure un vídeo que t’envia un amic de la interpretació de Gundula Janowitz i Lucia Popp de la «Canzonetta sull’aria» de Le nozze di Figaro; d’aquí passes al mateix duet interpretat per Renée Fleming i Cecilia Bartoli; d’aquí a un altre duet de Mozart, de La flauta màgica, interpretat per Bryn Terfel i la Bartoli, que et porta a una reina de la nit interpretada per Natalie Dessay, d’on saltes a una altra reina de la nit interpretada per Beverly Sills i acabes… bé, vegeu-ho vosaltres mateixos. No tinc paraules, només llàgrimes als ulls de tant riure. «I can sing higher – hojotoho-oh»!