Prima la musica

CD shopping in the blistering heat

I have no sense of direction. However I must have some sort of CD shop finding radar, because on my first afternoon here (I'm in Melbourne), with no particular memory from last time of where things were, I was nevertheless led automatically to HMV, JB HiFi and Thomas' music, all three of whom became a little richer thanks to me. And it's only just beginning.

Haven't given anything a proper listening to yet, but my purchase list at present is as follows:

Barbara Bonney: Wolf & Strauss Lieder. I'm listening to this right now and she's as unbeatable and gorgeous as ever. This was rather a nice find too, as it's on the Eloquence label: Barbara Bonney recital at budget price. Naturally, having bought it for $12 I saw it elsewhere for $10 and then $8 but not to worry, even $12 is pretty darned cheap for such a good CD.

Elisabeth Schwarzkopf: Liederabend. Another cheapish one, with some Mozart, Schumann, Schubert, Wolf and others. Haven't listened to a single track yet, but if it's half as beautiful as the fabulous cover photo then I shall be very happy.

Natalie Dessay: Air d'opéras français. This is not the same French Arias CD as the one which sent me spinning in adoration of the lovely Natalie, it's an earlier one with a slightly more unusual programme. There's Offenbach, Ravel, Poulenc and others. The Mad Scene from Thomas' Hamlet is on there too, which is interesting as it's also included on the other French Arias. I intend to leave this country with a sizeable collection of Natalie.

Patricia Petibon: French Touch. Finally, finally, a Patricia Petibon CD! The last time I was here, in February, my interest in Patricia was only beginning, and I resisted her French Baroque Arias for some unknown reason. And I've managed to maintain my attachment all these months with only a few mp3s to keep me going; but now I've got French Touch. The bits I've listened to so far are as brilliant as I expected, I'm happy to say. And really, how can you resist a red-headed soprano who poses on a carousel horse for her album cover?

Le nozze di Figaro. Susanna = Anna Moffo. La Contessa = Elisabeth Schwarzkopf. I have only this to say: Sull'aria.

And I'll finish this post here; I think my review of Manon, which we saw on Saturday night, deserves a post all to itself.

Voices

Quite simple really: the singers who have brought tears to my eyes this week and why I think they're so great. Add your own to the list in the comments if you like.

Elisabeth Schwarzkopf. Elisabeth singing her song (possibly called 'Schöne Liedler') in black and white in the 1950's with Gerald Moore on piano is still one of the best and nicest things I've seen on film. She's adorable and in perfect voice. I've watched this about 15 times now at least and I still get excited. And just generally, I've loved Elisabeth this week. Her 'Vier Letzte Lieder' are indescribable, so I won't try.

Barbara Bonney. Barbara's lieder CDs go perfectly with the weather we've been having in the last week (I mean the hot sunny bits, not the wet rainy bits). Mendelssohn, Schumann, Liszt, Mozart and at this very moment Grieg. Listening to the Mozart Lieder had me thinking: if I really had to choose, I'd take Mozart's lieder over Schumann's or Schubert's. I mean, it's one of the great joys of music that we have the whole lot. But if there could be only one, Mozart would be my man. Or would he...

Angelika Kirchschlager did a better job than anybody of sowing the seeds of doubt in my mind about this. Her Châtelet recital of Schumann and Schubert is excellent: highly recommended viewing (it's on DVD). She's just so intense and intelligent and heartbreakingly good; I'm not exactly a fan of the texts of 'Frauenliebe und -leben' but..oh..in her hands all is forgiven. Has she recorded Dichterliebe? I ought to check. As you might imagine I'm not bothered in the slightest by women singing it. I need Angelika's CD of duets with Barbara more than almost anything in the world.

Maria Callas. No, not singing. I haven't watched the Lord Harewood interview on the 'Callas Conversations' DVD yet but I have watched twice the 12 minute interview in French with Bernard Gavoty. Maria interviewed is always a pleasure, and here especially she's adorable and fabulous and fiercely intelligent. And beautiful too of course.

Robert Tucker. Dear me, a baritone in a list like this? Apparently so. He sang at Marama Hall on Sunday and made me very happy. 'Aprite un po quegl'occhi'. Fabulous. And congratulations on the Simon Gibson Memorial Prize. Very much deserved.

That's my list at an end. So come on, reading public: who's been melting your heart lately?

Also: Song Quest semi finalists are recording their full six item programmes this week I believe. So I hope that goes well for everyone involved, I'm looking forward so much to hearing them. Even though I do have to wait an inhumanly long time.

Extravagance

All I intended to do when I went into town yesterday was go to the jeweller. But somehow on the way I managed to pick up a Régine Crespin recital DVD, Maria Callas interviews on DVD and a Don Pasquale on CD. I ought, I suppose, to be saving cash for serious CD shopping in Melbourne but I couldn't help myself.

The only one of the three I've played so far is the Régine Crespin DVD. It's part of a very very exciting looking series by EMI called 'Classic Archive'. Disk Den has a whole heap of them. Archive performances, restored and on DVD for $24.95. $24.95! I almost bought more, but decided that, cheap as it was, Maria Callas' 1958 Paris recital deserved to go to an adoring fan rather than me. Anyway, Régine. It's a fabulous DVD. Three Berlioz arias from 1965, a good chunk of a Liederabend from 1964, and then a couple of songs from 1972. This woman is one of the best lieder singers I've seen: quite apart from the gorgeous voice, she's captivating to watch and really makes something of whatever song she's singing. The Ravel song, 'Le Paon', is unbelievable to watch. It's a rather funny little story about a jilted groom which she sings with such sincerity and humour that it's almost like someone just standing there telling the story- you almost forget she's singing. Except that of course you can't forget she's singing because she's singing so fabulously. I continue in my love of this voice, something I'm very glad to report: until tonight all I'd heard from her was a couple of Verdi arias and an Offenbach one so I'm very happy to find that she's just as impressive in lieder. Her 'Lachen and Weinen' is another wonderful one to watch as well as hear. And then of course there's the French stuff where she's an Unparalled Goddess. Fauré has had me melting all over the place in the last week and this is no exception: 'Soir' is gorgeous gorgeous gorgeous. And the Berlioz arias! From what I've read, Berlioz was a bit of a calling card for Mme Crespin, and rightly so. She's stunning. The technically knowledgeable will have ways of describing her voice; I don't particularly. It's this strong powerful instrument and yet there's this sort of lightness and effortlessness to it as well, if that makes sense. It's a big and impressive voice, but it's warm and friendly as well, and pretty in its own way. All of which works wonders when she comes to the Berlioz. 'Le Spectre de la Rose' from 'Les Nuits d'été' is perfect.

And as if Régine weren't enough on her own, the DVD comes with a bonus. A French soprano I've never heard of before called Denise Duval. She sings Poulenc: three arias, filmed in 1959, and two songs, from 1961. All of which mightn't be particularly except for one thing: her accompanist is M. Poulenc himself. I have to say, although Poulenc mightn't be my favourite composer ever, it's pretty neat to see the composer himself playing his own work. Even better, in the (rather hilarious) aria from Les Mamelles de Tirésias he himself takes the part of the husband, half-speaking half-singing his lines and obviously enjoying them. The whole spectacle is rather odd: Thérèse goes on a bit of a feminist rampage and turns into a man- Tiresias. Meanwhile her husband has little more to say than 'Bring me some meat'. However my favourite Denise Duval-Francis Poulenc moment is the songs. According to the notes these seem to have been filmed in Poulenc's studio. The two of them were good friends and it shows. First she sings a rather lovely little song, 'Les Anges musiciens' ("Car c'est toujours Mozart que reprennent sans fin les anges musiciens"). Then there's a rather gorgeous little exchange, as she leans over and pages through his music to find the song she'd like to sing next- 'Quelle aventure!'- tells him, and then, while singing it, acts as his page-turner as well. Very sweet. Not exactly worth $24.95 on its own, but almost.

At some point I'll watch the Maria Callas interviews. The DVD- called The Callas Conversations consists of her conversations with Lord Harewood and also an interview with Bernard Gavoty. Then there are three arias- 'Adieu, notre petite table', 'Ah, non credea mirarti' and 'O mio babbino caro'. As regular readers can no doubt guess, it's not the arias that I bought the DVD for. However, they should be interesting. And the interviews I'm looking forward to: whatever my opinion du jour of her singing, Maria is utterly fascinating when interviewed. And if the Lord Harewood interview is the one I think it is- excerpted in the Maria Callas documentary on earlier this year- then she's also absolutely fabulously gorgeous in it.

The Don Pasquale, by the way, has two distinctions. Firstly, some singularly hideous cover art; secondly, a Norina sung by a certain excellent Slovakian. I downloaded Lucia's 'Quel guardo il cavaliere' quite some time ago and it's one of my favourite things ever; so when I saw the whole opera secondhand for $25.95, I ignored the fact that it only has one soprano, and succumbed. I'm sure it will be fabulous. For the moment, however, I'm rejoicing in Haydn's Armida with its double treat: Cecilia Bartoli and Patricia Petibon. Thankyou Mr Harnoncourt.

Quartet

Do you know, I think I might need to write a fan letter to Anthony Ritchie. Or else find an opportunity to throw myself at his feet with Wayne's World-type cries of 'I'm not worthy'. The man is a genius, pure and simple.

Yes, there is a reason for my outburst. I accidentally stumbled across his chamber opera Quartet this evening. Well, can I call it an accident? I saw it listed on the Concert FM schedule a week or two ago and made a mental note (also known as a guarantee I'll forget) to remember and listen to it. I forgot about it, naturally, but was reminded after the Sunday opera last weekend (a somewhat lacklustre L'elisir d'amore) and thought, yes, I really must remember to listen to that. So of course I proceeded to forget about it entirely. But arriving home tonight at half past nine-ish from my Italian lesson I decided I'd rather have Concert FM than Michael Palin being intrepid. I turned the radio on. Two thoughts struck me simultaneously: dear me, modern opera; and dear me, this is great. Seconds later, when I realised they were singing in English, everything flooded back to me and I knew that I was listening to Anthony Ritchie's Quartet. I can't tell you the triumph I felt: usually things conspire against me, but here I was, despite my hopeless memory, actually hearing it after all. And loving it. Not only wonderful music but excellent singers making sense of a fantastic and very very funny libretto. It was captivating and perfect and I was feeling dangerously pleased with myself. Dangerously? Yes. Because (I should have known) what I'd in fact managed to do was catch about the last 15 minutes. Just as I was getting seriously involved, bang, it was over. Needless to say, I am not a very happy chappy.

However, I'm happy at least that I did get to hear some of it. It truly was brilliant. The Arts Festival website has a good description, so I'll quote it here:
The Ithaca String Quartet begin their New Zealand tour on the beautiful West Coast, but although their performances radiate harmony and idealism, behind the scenes they are riven with greed, jealousy and backbiting.
Violinist Penelope is married to Julian, a budding composer, but she’s developing an unhealthy friendship with Buddy. Julian, meanwhile, is obsessed with the manic depressive Russian violinist Nadezdha, who can’t stand his pretentious compositions. As the stresses of touring increase, can the group keep it together for the tour’s finale – the Arts Festival? A remarkable collaboration between one of New Zealand’s leading composers and one of her major playwrights, Quartet is a delightfully anarchic comedy chamber opera that combines exquisitely crafted music with a wickedly witty libretto in a hilarious and memorable night out.
It's even better than it sounds, I think. Can I make that judgement, having heard so little? I think so. Wish I'd heard more. Wish I'd seen it. Anthony Ritchie is a Very Important Person.

One other thing before I go. I've prepared a little something, if you've the time/energy/inclination. I mentioned a few days ago the surreal DVD of Jean-Pierre Ponnelle's 1975 Carmina Burana. Well, in a very low-tech roundabout and no doubt not very legal way (dark living room + digital camera + pause button on remote) I've managed to put together a few photos of the production. And you can see them here. (Let me know if it doesn't work). Of course, this is but a taste: there's all sorts of other amazing/bizarre stuff too; really I think you could freeze absolutely any frame in the whole film and get some sort of weird image. Anyway, enjoy.

(Also, apologies if you're having trouble reading the blog, I'll get the colours sorted out soon I hope.)

Kathleen

It's nice sometimes to pull out an old CD you haven't heard for ages. I listened today to Kathleen Battle's Salzburg Recital. This, along with The Radiant Voice of Barbara Bonney, was pretty much on loop on the CD player throughout my Bursary exams, but since then, as my tastes broadened (I was not at that point the devotee I am now) the CD slipped into the depths of the collection and I haven't heard it for quite some time. However as I was setting of on a book shopping expedition today, I thought that it was just the right accompaniment so- I love technology- I loaded it on to the MP3 player and went on my merry way. And dear me, I'd forgotten how fantastic it is! Purcell, Handel, Mozart, Fauré, Strauss, Mendelssohn and some spirituals and every moment is just bliss. I think 'Schlagende Herzen' is just about as cute as it gets and Kathleen's voice goes with it perfectly. Also I love the spirituals, I really do. I think she does them wonderfully, and I have no problem at all with the opportunities to show off afforded to her by the arrangements. 'Witness' is particularly fun: back when I was listening to this daily I used to know all the words; and 'His Name So Sweet' I also like although I'm now rather partial to Leontyne Price's live version as well. The thing is, I'm absolutely a sucker for a virtuoso: so when Kathleen gets to hit those high high notes I'm just putty in her hands. It's very difficult, you know, walking around in public with this music in your ears and trying not to smile like a crazy person.

Then tonight there was Fauré's Requiem at Knox Church. Honestly, the lengths I'll go to for a bit of singing! And not a soprano in sight! No, I'm not complaining. Matthew Landreth is a STAR: he sang gorgeously. I didn't want him to stop. And the Knox Choir was amazing! Especially given last night's less than fabulous choral experience; I'd love to hear this lot (with their numbers swelled somewhat) do Carmina Burana, they're just beautiful. The 'Pie Jesu' was nice enough too. I was worried about it, given that none of the advertising for this mentioned a soprano. Since they couldn't cut it out, I figured it would be sung by someone from the choir; I was struck with terror at the thought they might use a boy soprano. Boy sopranos are all well and good but I'd rather not listen to them sing for very long. Well, it wasn't a boy soprano. They used two girls from the choir, and they did a nice job of it. I much prefer it sung by a proper soprano (Francine Knowles-Weller who sang it with the staff/student choir last year was out of this world) but it was listenable in any case, if a little quiet. And the choir had a celebrity member tonight: Roger Wilson! Which was nice, although somewhat tantalising since it made me want to hear him sing some more Carmina.

Actually it's been a Fauré sort of a day: listening to Kathleen sing 'Les Roses d'Ispahan', 'Mandoline', 'Notre Amour' and 'En Prière' made me think I need to hear more Fauré songs. They really are wonderfully pretty. And I've been in love with 'Chanson d'amour' ever since I heard Charlotte Carman sing it so fabulously earlier this year. So I've just now been exploring the options on Amazon. There's a 4 CD set of ALL of the songs recorded by Elly Ameling and Gérard Souzay which seems rather nice although I think that might be a little much for me. The same search also yield a result which I think might be in the running for a 'Most Pointless CD' award: Classical Barbra. Barbra Streisand singing, among other things, Débussy's 'Beau Soir', 'Mondnacht', 'Lascia ch'io pianga', 'In trutina'... oh I can't bear to continue. I actually don't mind Barbra Streisand, and at her best she's great, but why oh WHY did she record an album like this. Why would anybody think that the world needed 'Lascia ch'io pianga' recorded Streisand style? This is not Barbra singing in a classical manner, it's Barbra singing classical pieces the way she sings everything else, more or less. I don't understand. More importantly, though, I found the Fauré songs CD I want- and I want it desperately. It's the Requiem, followed by thirteen songs sung by Hakan Hagegard and Barbara Bonney. My Barbara! I listened to her singing 'Chanson d'amour' and it alone is clearly worth whatever price I end up paying. So sweet and perfect you can taste it.

I wish I could finish on that cheerful note but I can't because I want to mention the St Matthew Passion. Or should that be the St David Passion? The soloists were advertised on the back of the Carmina Burana programme: David Burchell conducting, with David Hamilton, David Griffiths, David Hansen and David- sorry, Pepe- Becker. Spot the problem. Yes, that's right. David Hansen is a counter-tenor. I've talked about counter-tenors before and while they're not generally my cup of tea, I don't object to their existence or to their use, in principle. In principle. in the St Matthew Passion, however, I do object. Authentic? Fine, if you like. I'd still much rather have a mezzo and I think a mezzo is a better choice. I don't know how I'll cope, with only one female singer to get me through, and 'Erbarme dich' being sung by a boy to contend with. I'll be there, no doubt, but I'll be sulking.

Brass, brass & brass

Interesting evening.
"The City of Dunedin Choir and St Kilda Sentinel Brass welcome you to an evening of Luck, Love and Liquor! as presented in Carl Orff's Carmina Burana and a South American Fiesta from Constant Lambert's Rio Grande" But there was more to it even than that. The first half was a rather...interesting collection of pieces for brass band. Oh, look, I'll be honest: I'm desperately impressed by St Kilda Sentinal Brass, I think they're fantastically talented but I spent much of the first half reading the programme and waiting for the second half. I did like the arrangement for brass band of 'Pastime With Good Company', which is attributed to Henry VIII (did he have time for composing between women?). Then there was something called Spectrum, involving movements organised by colour (and clever lighting to go with); followed by 'Hymn for Diana'. Yes, that Diana. I'm just not going to say anything.
And then the first half ended with the first of the featured pieces, Constant Lambert's Rio Grande. Which did actually have a couple of moments of soprano solo but nevertheless, I'm sorry, did nothing for me. It was all very fast and exciting and Brazilian and jazzy but, well, bring on Carmina Burana.

Which they did. I love Carmina Burana. It's just so much fun and quite lovely at the same time: 'In trutina' is gorgeous and 'Tempus est iocundum'- my favourite part- is great. Now, I'll start with the soloists. First and foremost Roger Wilson who was brilliant. And deserving of bold type. What a beautiful beautiful voice! Added to which he obviously knew exactly what he was singing and has captivating to watch as well as hear. I don't usually wax so lyrical about baritones but wow. And Morag Atchison was worth the wait (no soprano solos at all until the third part and then she gets about a million). Also sounded gorgeous and gave me no cause for worry in the stratospherically high 'Dulcissime'; 'Stetit puella' was also particularly nice. I always wish the soprano in Carmina Burana got to spend longer singing. Orff obviously could write wonderful things for soprano so it's a shame there's not more- what there is, I love. Even so, though, Roger was the star for me tonight: I just about melted when the moment he started singing.

And now I suppose I ought to deal with the choir. The City of Dunedin Choir is a fantastic choir. Carmina Burana possibly is not an excellent choice for them though. It's very intense and rather high and I think- in the sopranos particularly- it just needs to be sung by younger and more robust voices. The altos were fine and the boys sounded very nice but when the sopranos were on their own, well, it wasn't great. And I was a little disappointed by the St Paul's Choristers too. I mean, I realise they're children, but I was sort of expecting fabulous sounding boy sopranos and that's not really what they did. But they were fine and I don't want to seem to be being nasty about children (much). So yes, the choir. They coped, but it wasn't their best moment (and if I'm honest, I think that Rio Grande was one of their worst moments). 'O Fortuna', as cliché as it's become, is still a fantastic and frightening piece of music and what you really want is a frightening good choir to go with it, which isn't what this particular choir was tonight. Oh well. They're doing the St Matthew Passion in March next year- that's the sort of thing they're fabulous in. Nevertheless I'm glad they did Carmina Burana, it was nice to have the chance to see it in the flesh.

But speaking of flesh and Carmina Burana, there is a DVD. I've mentioned this before, quite some time ago. I'm as unable now as then to describe this production. Carl Orff called it a 'dramatic cantata' and intended it as a sort of stage pageant, which is basically what this DVD is. But yet it's so much more. It's from 1975. If you can imagine a combination of 70's variety show sets and medieval county fairs, and add a healthy dash of fetishism and hallucinogens, you might start to get the idea: Jean-Pierre Ponnelle let loose on Latin texts about fertility and sex. I'm not sure if anyone actually is naked but we come pretty close: Lucia Popp in a bathtub, or in an immense headress with a dove, or in singlet and bloomers wrestling with Hermann Prey who I believe is dressed in a nappy (update: not a nappy- although such a costume wouldn't be out of place-just a rather suggestive pair of leather breeches. I was confusing him with Hermes from the Armand Assante film of the Odyssey. And no, I've no idea why). And people popping out of trees, and scantily clad women floating about in ponds. And when 'The roasted swan sings', he really does- sort of. It's one of the most surreal things I've ever seen. It's also stunningly beautifully sung, even if it is a lipsynched film rather than a live performance and thus a little disembodied. Words do this DVD no justice; if I can get myself organised I might try a few low-tech methods of putting some photos of it online, it needs to be seen to be believed. I can't imagine the sopranos of the City of Dunedin choir frolicking in quite the same manner; however I think Roger Wilson could probably pull off the Hermann Prey romping stomping-style performance if he wanted to, he was having fun tonight I think.

And what about Renée Fleming's Handel CD? I like it. I don't love it, but I like it a lot. The first two tracks don't do wonders for me, but there's a reason for that. They're both from Semele, and I'm used to hearing both of them sung by Ruth Ann Swenson or Kathleen Battle. You know, those high, sweet, silver voices. Renée's is rather different and while it's certainly pleasant enough, it doesn't make me drool the way the other two do. Besides, Semele is young and flighty and a bit of a floozy..I mean, look at the text:

Endless pleasure, endless love,
Semele enjoys above!
On her bosom Jove reclining,
Useless now his thunder lies;
To her arms his bolts resigning,
And his lightning to her eyes.

Honestly! But Renée's just a bit too grown-up and sensible sounding to be convincing. But it gets much better thereafter. Her 'Lascia ch'io pianga' is wonderful, and 'To fleeting pleasures make your court' is gorgeous too. 'Da tempeste il legno infranto' is on Ruth Ann's Handel CD and so I'm a little biased, but Renée does brilliantly with it also. In fact, she sounds great all the way through, and I'm glad and a little relieved: she keeps her voice suitably light and pretty and doesn't overwhelm the music the way she could quite easily have done. Helped no doubt by the fantastic Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, who I'm sure bring out the best in the singers who work with them. I only have a couple of slight quibbles. One is something I mentioned after I'd listened to the samples of the website- she does have a tendency from time to time to sound as if she's a non-native speaker in the English arias. This can't be an American thing: Kathleen, Ruth Ann, Sylvia McNair, Marilyn Horne are all Americans who I've heard sing English Handel; so I don't know what it is. But it's not always an issue, so it doesn't really worry me. The other thing is just a sense sometimes that she's focusing so hard on doing it right and sounding right and Handelian that she loses something in interpretation. It's about balance I suppose: I'd rather she do this than sing it inappropriately, but I just feel a little like she could afford to abandon herself to the music a bit more sometimes: because she's a fabulous singer and I'm sure it would work. I don't want her to take huge risks- but a few little ones might be nice. All in all though, it's a very nice album and probably my favourite Renée CD so far.

Libiamo

If Mozart had never been born then there's a good chance that La traviata would be my favourite opera. I mean it's like a greatest hits CD. Never a dull moment. I don't even skip the Prelude, and I'm usually very much a philistine about things instrumental which delay the appearance of sopranos. Of course it helps that it's such a soprano-based opera, and that so many fabulous women have sung Violetta. Traviata plus Anna Moffo is really just an unbeatable combination. I haven't seen her film of it yet although it's at the top of my wishlist; the chunk of it that's on Volume 1 of the Bell Telephone Hour DVDs is absolutely gorgeous. But actually I tend to love Violetta no matter who's singing her: it's such fabulous music that if you can sing it then you will be wonderful. Joan Sutherland's diction and pronunciation and accent might all be abysmal but I still love her singing 'Sempre libera'; I'm far from being a Maria Callas fan (sorry, sorry) but I have a highlights record of her Traviata which I bought in order to hear her 'Teneste la promessa...Addio del passato' (I like the spoken bit almost as much as the singing) without paying the earth for the whole opera- and it was compelling listening.

So what I'm getting at (partly) is that when I got a video of La traviata from the public library last night I knew that I'd enjoy it regardless. But of course this was helped somewhat by the presence of some Romanian woman called Angela. Actually, I thought watching Angela's Traviata might be a bit risky. It was, I think, this production which turned her into a supersuperstar, so I knew it should be fantastic. On the other hand, though, I haven't exactly been feeling well disposed towards Ms Gheorghiu of late, voice-wise and personality-wise, so there was the possibility that I might feel obliged to pick holes in her performance or at least to be determinedly unimpressed- in this part particularly she has a lot of hype to live up to. Well of course as it turned out, even if I'd wanted desperately to find fault, I just couldn't have. She's Perfect with a capital P. I mean it. My heart belongs to Anna Moffo, but there nevertheless is not a thing wrong with Angela's Violetta. True, she doesn't for the high note (an Amazon reviewer said it's an E? I wouldn't have a clue) at the end of 'Sempre libera' but who cares? She's one of the best actresses I've seen anywhere (not just opera) and to go with it there's this beautiful voice.

But I have to say, it did take me a little while to warm to the voice. In fact, for the first fifteen minutes or so I considered turning the video off and going and listening to Anna instead. Not that it wasn't good but it didn't strike me as particularly stunning either, and I couldn't quite see the point of sitting and listening to something I wasn't interested in for two hours. But once everyone disappeared and Violetta was by herself, such thoughts were but a distant memory. No weird behaviour, no smashing of champagne glasses: just a soprano being magnificent. From then on I enjoyed every minute of it. It's no wonder this did such wonders for her career.Apart from the acting skills, she really does sound gorgeous and like she really knows what she's on about. It may or may not be the case now, but at this point she really was thinking about the words and their meaning and their relation to the music and all that stuff which makes for a brilliant interpretation.

And the others in the cast are more or less worthy of her too: Angela isn't the only one who manages to act convincingly. In fact for the first time ever I felt genuinely sorry for Alfredo. (Usually he seems so unworthy of his fabulous Violetta/Marguerite that I don't really care). Frank Lopardo really has rather a lovely voice too. And Leo Nucci was suitably infuriating as Germont père. I just cannot stand that man, and I wish he would go away. He's bizarre. Especially when he turns up at the party: I can't help but think he's only there in Alfredo's mind. Because why on earth would anybody in their right mind invite such an unpleasant, interfering old man? I'm being pedantic I know but honestly: the man ought to get a life, instead ruining other people's. Vocally I wasn't too interested in Leo Nucci but he was fine. Flora too sounded rather nice, but she looked absolutely frightening. And I might also mention Sir Georg Solti. I usually fast forward overtures but I thought I might actually take the chance this time to watch him in action. He was rather fascinating. And looks like a bit of a sweetheart, although I might be wrong (and he's not as cute as Leonard Bernstein). In any case he still, I think, holds the world record for most Grammy awards.

Back to Angela Gheorghiu. This quite possibly is the most I'll ever write about her! What I wondered was whether watching her Traviata would change my feelings at all. I thought it might; in fact I don't think it has. I still think it's a lovely voice (more so then than now perhaps) but it still doesn't give me that kick I get from the girls I adore. Technically speaking she might be better than Anna but I still think Anna is the best Violetta I've ever experienced. In any case though, as far as the whole package goes, Angela as Violetta in 1994 (I'm not going to make any generalisations here) is unbeatable. I mightn't have been surprised as such, but I certainly was captivated. And she's, well, not exactly hideous to look at either.

I've written enough now, I know, but I do have other news. Turn green with envy, one and all. I want to the big Echo Records (I don't want to say Real Groovy even though that's what it is now) and had a look, surprise surprise, in their secondhand classical CD section. I don't know why. For those unaware, this 'section' consists of some Charlotte Church, too much Andrea Bocelli, Relaxing Classics and not much else. So imagine my shock when I came across this: Renée Fleming: Handel Arias. I kid you not. Renée's brand new CD, secondhand for $19.95. Somebody owned this and decided to get rid of it. The mind boggles. However, their loss is my gain- and a cheap one too. Don't you wish you had my luck? But enough gloating; I'd better go and listen to it!

Singers & subjectivity

I said I didn't like Dawn Upshaw. Perhaps I was unfair; perhaps I wasn't. I had one comment determined I should and one in agreement. In any case I dutifully went to Amazon and listened to a few things. The Barber piece, as prophesied, was certainly pretty. Her 'Deh vieni' I'll concede I liked better than, say, Renée Fleming's. But I think that in the end I shall stand by my original statement. Because after all, although it may have come across otherwise, I didn't really mean that I disliked her voice. I don't dislike anybody's voice, not exactly. There are voices I adore, voices I could do without, and plenty somewhere in between, but there's nobody (singing professionally at least) with an essentially and consistently ugly voice, or at least I don't believe there is. There may be- and are- singers that certain of us never ever want to hear but the fact that for each such singer there is also an adoring fan hanging on every note means we can't ever really dismiss anybody's voice.

For instance: I think Cristina Deutekom's 'Der Hölle Rache' is one of the most hideous sounds I've ever heard a professional opera singer make. Yet go to the Amazon page for her Zauberflöte highlights and the first reviewer says:
"Deutekom's Queen of the Night is the best of the 20th century."
This is what I mean. I personally can't imagine even thinking such a thing given the existence of Lucia Popp. But somehow, something in that performance does appeal to some people, even though it's the sort of thing that I think gives opera a bad name.
Then there are changes in my own opinion: the first time I heard Cheryl Studer's Donna Anna I was horrified. But when I was finally brave enough to give her another try, I warmed to her a lot. Not that I particularly like her Donna Anna now, but I don't really feel too strongly either way.

These are extreme examples (and Maria Callas would be another one but I haven't the energy for that particular controversy). But there's also my ongoing off-and-on relationship with Miss Renée Fleming. Of all the sopranos popularly adored these days, she's the one I most feel I could grow attached to, and there are moments when I think she's just divine. The problem is it's all half and half. Her 'Hear Ye, Israel' is wonderful, I love her Bel Canto CD and I love parts of her Mozart CD. Sometimes I think, yes, it's a nice voice but it's just not my cup of tea. And every now and then I just think NO. Nevertheless I'm in the minority: the world is full of those who hear perfection in every note she sings; and I think they're right- perfection surely is in the eye (or ear) of the beholder. It's very much the same with Kiri Te Kanawa. A notoriously hardboiled critic (I forget his name) who was mean about everyone said that when he died, the name 'Kiri' would be found engraved on his heart. When I hear her singing in A Room With a View I can see his point absolutely. But to be utterly honest she doesn't make my top ten. I'm technically illiterate; the closest I can come to the reason is simply that there's too much of her somehow; the same thing is part of the difficulty I have with Renée.

And all the girls in my clutch of favourites have their detractors. Cecilia Bartoli, obviously. She sells records like nobody else, she's adored by thousands and thousands. The standing ovations at her Vivaldi recital in Paris (available on DVD) started halfway through. I love Cecilia more than I can say. And yet I've even read one review which went so far as to say that much of what she does 'isn't even singing'. Most people aren't so extreme. But the fact remains that there's one voice and yet two worlds of opinion. Kathleen Battle, Barbara Bonney, Anna Moffo, Lucia Popp: I've seen negative reviews for each and every one, and I've seen arguments flare up in the Amazon reviews.

I don't know if I could give a review like that. There are singers I don't like, but as I've said it's not because I dislike their voices as such. I experimented tonight with Anna Netrebko and Angela Gheorghiu, two big soprano stars. Both undeniably fabulously talented but somehow there's nothing that grabs me. It took about 3 seconds of a below-average English translation of 'So muss allein ich bleiben' from Die Fledermaus for me to fall irretrievably in love with Anna Moffo; perhaps about thirty seconds of Natalie Dessay and then I was hooked. When it comes to sopranos I do believe in love at first sight and I just don't see it happening for me with Anna N. or Angela. So what's the difference? I can hear the flaws in Anna Moffo's recordings; I can hear what Cecilia's critics are on about; I can hear what an excellent singing actress Angela Gheorghiu is; I can hear how gorgeous and silvery Anna Netrebko's voice is: but it's the first two I would go to the ends of the earth for, not the second two. It's not just a voice thing, I admit: it's about personality and expression and style as well.

Have I made sense? I think perhaps I've got a little more philosophical than I planned. What I'm on about really is subjectivity. And after all, what fun would it be if we all loved every singer equally? I'd particularly like your comments on all this. I'd love to hear from the people who worship the people I only like; who detest the ones I adore; who agree with me wholeheartedly; who just can't see what I see or who absolutely can. It's all fascinating stuff.

Chance find

Talk about luck. For no apparent reason I was struck at 10.30 this morning with the urge to check the Concert FM programme listings online to see what was on. Oh, Fauré's Requiem. Oh, Lucia Popp. I'll turn the radio up then. And I did. I'd barely missed a moment and what's more, I managed to tune the one decent radio in the house to 92.6 in time for Lucia doing the most stunningly good 'Pie Jesu' I've ever heard. This is not a judgement made lightly either, given that I have Cecilia doing it somewhere too. It was just mindblowingly fantastic. Nothing more to be said really; a very nice way to start my first official day of holiday freedom.

However, there was also bad news. Just lately I've become a daily visitor to The Opera Critic. It's the most unbelievable source of opera news: articles, reviews, photos, all searchable by singer, conductor, composer, opera- and all free. But now they've made an announcement: from the 8th of November you have to subscribe to access the articles. No mention even of limited access for non-subscribers: just a US$34.95 subscription fee for a year's access. Now I've never subscribed to anything in my life but I'm starting to think I might have to break the habit of a lifetime. To be honest I'm a little annoyed with them, especially springing the announcement on its users with only a week's notice. But just as I was all set to say get thee hence and pretend I didn't care anyway, I saw the little notice which said 'subsribe and win'. Always a sucker for a competition I had to find out what was up for grabs. Dear me: Alcina. With Renée Fleming (good thing), Susan Graham (fantastic thing), and Natalie Dessay (!!!). I want Alcina; I wanted it anyway. So it's looking very likely that despite my annoyance, I shall indeed be handing my NZ$50 or so over to The Opera Critic: who, as it happens, are based in Auckland. Somehow it seems particularly unfair to pay US prices for something produced from within New Zealand, but that's just me being silly. And it is after all a magnificent service which deserves a proper source of funds; I just wish that source didn't have to be me. But naturally if I win the Alcina all will be forgiven. And if I don't, then I'll probably buy it and be in such a good mood I can't be mad with anybody- Handel's a bit like that.

And I want to finish up with something I keep forgetting to mention. Possibly everyone realises this anyway, but just in case, I want to let Dunedin people know that the Echo Records store in the Meridian has a few racks of classical stuff on one of its sale tables at the moment: and that this table includes Barbara Bonney's CD While I Dream (or did last time I looked). Highly highly recommended: Liszt songs and then the Dichterliebe cycle. Some have questioned whether a soprano ought to sing these songs instead of a baritone, but I think it works wonderfully. Her 'Ich grolle nicht' tears me apart. 'Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen' is adorable. Really it's all just gorgeous, especially for someone with a soprano bias like mine. Yes so anyway, that's on the sale table. Along with some other rather good things: some Kathleen Battle I think, an operetta by Mendelssohn (yes really), and a few complete opera sets including a Rosenkavalier (but not the Elisabeth S & Christa L one, it's still full price). There's also a Dawn Upshaw CD, if you happen to like her. (I don't). And I think there's a copy of Lucia's Viennese Operetta Arias in the secondhand section. But that's enough free publicity for Echo, so I'll stop.