Richard Sasanow - Page 3

IL TABARRO has a special relationship to New York, since it’s the only Puccini to premiere here at the Metropolitan, in 1918. While it’s only the first third of the trio of short operas that go by the title IL TRITTICO, no one attending the other night’s performance by On Site Opera in partnership with the South Street Seaport Museum should have felt short-changed. It definitely felt like an evening’s worth of opera--and a fine one.

While I’ve always been bothered by the cruelties and misogyny of the main character, Mozart’s DON GIOVANNI has (musically) been my favorite of the composer’s operas, though either casting or design has been a regular issue in bringing off the work at its best. Happily, the Met’s new production by Belgian provocateur Ivo van Hove is a success for me, with a cast filled with wonderful singers--and the Met orchestra and chorus sounding great under debutante Nathalie Stutzmann.

In an opera filled with gorgeous music, it’s hard to beat the end of LA BOHEME’s Act One, with the trifecta of arias about young love. If only tragedy and sadness weren’t going to catch up with the central pair, Mimi and Rodolfo, and their friends, in the succeeding three “tales from the Bohemian life” (as the work’s source material was called). But wait. Director Yuval Sharon to the rescue, with a version that just finished a successful run at Opera Philadelphia, playing out the story in reverse.

Maybe the Met should stop thinking about THE MERRY WIDOW and DIE FLEDERMAUS when it takes a turn at operetta—let alone the bevy of comic operas by Rossini and Donizetti that are given more than their due on a regular basis—and let Gilbert & Sullivan (G&S) have a turn at bat.

There are no supernatural women arriving on horseback to escort slain warriors to the afterlife--just a trio of mermaids, a couple of giants and a loveless dwarf, along with a bunch of gods, demi-gods and grotesque humans in Richard Wagner’s DAS RHEINGOLD, the first part of the composer’s Ring cycle (officially DER RING DES NIBELUNGEN). Saturday night’s audience stayed to cheer the opening of General and Artistic Director Tomer Zvulun’s production after nearly three intermission-less hours.

While there’s always a great deal of talk about where the next generation of operagoers is coming from, there’s much less hand-wringing about the sources of the new generation of singers. After hearing the Eric and Dominique Laffont Competition’s Grand Finals Concert at the Met on Sunday afternoon, we could plainly hear that the future of the Met roster is alive and well and waiting to take center stage.

In search of new audiences, the Met has followed Terence Blanchard’s FIRE SHUT UP IN MY BONES with the jazz musician/composer’s first opera, CHAMPION, the story of closeted boxer Emile Griffith’s rise and fall from grace. Honestly, never have I heard people whose usual venues are Madison Square Garden, Yankee Stadium and Monday Night Football on ESPN talk about how they “wanted to see the new opera at the Met.”

If we needed any further proof about how opera continues to evolve--as in “what’s an operatic experience?”--a concert at New York’s United Nations Headquarters featuring a live-and-in-person version of Paola Prestini‘s and Magos Herrera’s CON ALMA album celebrated International Women’s Day. The album--and event--were subtitled “An Operatic Tableau on Isolation.”

It took Richard Strauss only about 100 minutes apiece (with no breaks) to tell the lurid tale of SALOME and the tragedy of ELEKTRA. So why on earth did he and librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal need almost five hours (including two intermissions) to tell the personal stories of an “aging” (she was really in her 30s) noblewoman, a couple of teenagers in love and a repulsive sexual predator?

It’s hard to compete with yourself — especially the ‘you’ that was at the height of your powers. I think that’s part of the problem with the place that Richard Strauss’s DAPHNE holds in the composer’s canon. Often referred to as a second- (or even third-) tier work, it has much to offer and enjoy, as the performance by the American Symphony Orchestra under Leon Botstein at Carnegie Hall the other night proved quite well.

Combine a supreme farceur with a stentorian voice that thrills and you get baritone Michael Volle’s portrayal of the title role in Verdi’s FALSTAFF, which breezed into town late last week for a limited run at the Met. While we’ve had dramatic singers in the role before, they were mostly from Italian repertoire; I don’t know when the last time a Wagnerian--a Wotan from the Ring, for instance--took on this role around here, but Volle did himself proud.

Soprano Angel Blue’s Violetta didn’t seem as tragic as we’re used to seeing in Verdi’s masterwork and maybe that's right. She’s lived life on her own terms and if she’s dying of tuberculosis, well, c’est la vie. (After all, the source of the piece is French: the Alexandre Dumas fils “La Dame aux Camellias”).

You’ve got to admit that the Met had a lot of guts to dedicate this season’s performances of Vincenzo Bellini’s NORMA (libretto by Felice Romani) to the memory of Maria Callas on the 100th anniversary of her birth. Hers was simply one of the most legendary portrayals of the role, by a fabled singer. Period. But Yoncheva--and her costars--pulled off the performance with aplomb and made the Met audience very happy indeed.

The Met’s new production of Richard Wagner’s LOHENGRIN showcases startlingly good singing from tenor Piotr Beczala in the title role, supported ably and nobly by soprano Tamara Wilson’s Elsa, bass-baritone Evgeny Nikitin’s Telramund and bass Gunther Groissbock’s King Heinrich. And soprano Christine Goerke’s evil Ortrud nearly steals the show. With the Met’s orchestra and chorus in glorious form, led by music director Yannick Nezet-Seguin in the pit, the performance made you want to scream and yell for more.

Friday night, the Metropolitan Opera gave its second concert honoring “Ukraine and its brave citizens as they fight to defend their country and cultural heritage.” The country’s colors flew above the performance, which opened with a pretaped video message from First Lady, Olena Zelenska, along with the Ukraine national anthem. She remarked that the concert wasn’t really marking the one-year anniversary of the horrendous, illegal conflict (although, indeed, it did), but a time closer to peace for its citizenry.

Two operas in two days at Barcelona’s legendary Liceu opera house. Who could ask for anything more? Well, turns out you can, judging by the visiting ALCINA from Marc Minkowski’s Musiciens du Louvre and the Liceu’s new production of Verdi’s MACBETH by Jaume Planes. Part II: Verdi’s MACBETH

Two operas in two days at Barcelona’s legendary Liceu opera house. Who could ask for anything more? Well, turns out you can, judging by the visiting ALCINA from Marc Minkowski’s Musiciens du Louvre and the Liceu’s new production of Verdi’s MACBETH by Jaume Planes. Part One: Handel’s ALCINA

I’ve heard the opera a number of times at the Met over the years and this year’s run holds up with the most breathtaking of them. Despite the number of star performances among the magnificent ensemble currently being heard at the Met, the star of the show doesn’t have a single word to say or note to sing. It's the John Dexter production that does it.

Donizetti wrote more than six dozen operas in the course of around 30 years, so it must have been hard for him not to steal from himself. Still, it always strikes me during the overture to his great comedy L’ELISIR D’AMORE, whose run at the Met opened the other night, when I hear echoes of the oh-so-dramatic LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, which would come just a few years later. Yet, the similar music somehow works in both operas.

A powerful double bill by Irish composer Emma O’Halloran, to libretti by her playwright uncle, Mark O’Halloran, deals with disappointment, connection and heartbreak--and what makes people tick. You know, 'the usual.'