Prima la musica

The Last Savage

Mr. Menotti, my apologies. I should have written about your adorable opera straight away. The Last Savage, which I saw at Santa Fe Opera on Thursday, turned out to be one of the most fun filled evenings I've ever spent at the opera. I love MGM musicals, and this opera looked and felt like an MGM musical — but with even more singing and funnier jokes. The score is good, not great, but Menotti's dramatic instincts are sterling as ever (as were those of conductor George Manahan) and the opera is genuinely entertaining. It definitely deserves better than the obscurity it's enjoyed since its Paris, New York and Venice premieres flopped so resoundingly.

So, the plot, briefly. Kitty is a budding anthropologist from Vassar. Her wealthy father has taken her to India, where he meets the Maharajah and negotiates a marriage between his daughter and the Maharajah's son. Kitty, however, won't marry anybody — or give up anthropology — until she finds the titular "last savage". So a country boy is found to impersonate said savage. It works, but then, because it's opera, everybody starts falling in love the wrong way round and complications ensue, until a G&S-style revelation intervenes to sort everybody out for a happy Ever After. 

You see what I mean. It could easily be an MGM movie. In fact, it probably is, so it was fitting that Anna Christy (Kitty) looked eerily like Jane Powell. She sang, of course, far better — I'm no fan of those tweety Hollywood sopranos — which is fortunate, since the role is full of deliberately over-the-top coloratura. Kevin Burdette channelled that MGM vibe perfectly as well — the man can not only sing (and he sure can sing), he's a first rate comic actor, who stole the show even when standing in the corner of the stage not singing. 

Those two were probably the highest of the highlights, but it's a close call — everyone was beautifully in on the joke, throwing themselves into the madcap fun of the show and singing wonderfully to boot. Daniel Okulitch has far more than just a talent for shirtlessness to recommend him for the role of the so-called savage; Jennifer Zetlan's Sardula was lovely, particular in her rather long, serious aria which calls Leïla's "Comme autrefois" from Pearlfishers to mind; Jamie Barton was a campy delight as the oversized Maharani and the list goes on...truly, there was never a dull nor a disappointing moment. 

The true star of the evening, though? Ned Canty, who's directed a production so bursting with comedy, colour and detail that you'd need to see it three or four times to appreciate the genius of it all. The lion! The whiskey gag! The blink-and-you'll miss it Nixon reference! None of which means anything to you if you haven't seen it! In Canty's hands, this show is as non-stop hilarious as you always wish Figaro was, and it's at least as good looking as anything in Glorious Technicolor. Fabulous costumes, simple yet brilliant sets, and visual gags most directors would kill to come up with. And all of it totally in service of the score. At the end of the evening, my companion was heard to utter "Ned Canty should direct every opera ever." I'd struggle to disagree. 

Now maybe the opera isn't the finest ever, or even Menotti's finest, but I have to say, thanks to Ned Canty, George Manahan and such a supercool cast, I'm convinced that it deserves a higher place in the repertoire. Principal and supporting roles are mostly rewarding — particularly Kitty, her father, and the Maharani; there's lots of fun for the chorus, and the potential for comic gold is huge. The potential for falling flat is thus probably also considerable — the thing did flop, after all, and comedy is hard — but hey, just hire Ned Canty, or clone him, and you're sorted. 

My only regret is that we waited so long to go, and now have no chance to see it again. 

(Photos: Ken Howard/Santa Fe Opera)

Biblical revelation

I've recently started reviewing opera DVDs for Limelight. It's a nice gig, although if they'd the height of my "unwatched" pile back in Sydney, they might have thought twice about trusting me. Deadlines work wonders, however, so I've watched more opera on DVD than I usually would, and then attempted to summarise them in 250-300 words. Amazingly, given that word limits are usually my bête noire when it comes to opera, this has not so far been a problem. 

But that's because I've been just a little bit cursed. Only a little bit. Nothing I've watched has truly hurt my brain or eyes — in fact most of them have been reasonably entertaining — but none of them has seemed to require more than 300 words. Until yesterday. I watched Handel's Belshazzar, and I've already submitted my review, but it turns out that this time, there's more to say.

This is a production from the 2008 Aix-en-Provence Festival, directed by Christof Nel and conducted by René Jacobs. I have to be honest. The thought of a staged Belshazzar wasn't exactly thrilling me to the core, and the rather grey cover image didn't much help. Well, insert proverb about DVDs and judging here. It's actually quite wonderful. 

I mean, it's Handel, so there's a level of musical gorgeousness which goes without saying. Then you have the particular musical forces involved: René Jacobs, the Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin, the RIAS Kammerchor and, oh yes, some fairly sensational soloists, including my current favourite countertenor, Bejun Mehta. So that's the musical side of things sorted, but what lifts this to the next level is that everybody on stage — soloists and chorus — is acting their heart out. A fairly standard Biblical oratorio is transformed into an incredibly intense human drama.

The production has its oddities but it is, despite its literal colour, full of life, and its sharpest edges are nicely smoothed out by the neverending loveliness of the music — there are no big hit arias, but the score is full of inventive music and the libretto is probably one of the best Handel ever had to work with. (It's certainly better than Joseph and his Brethren, with its aria about a pelican.) Nel's production certainly left me with the impression that it had some profound things to say about politics and human nature, and whether that's true or not, it still reflects well on the work and on Nel's staging.

Bejun Mehta in action lived up to the expectation set by Bejun Mehta on record — his Handel arias is still the only CD I've given a five star review (clearly I haven't reviewed Joyce DiDonato's Diva/Divo yet) and he's five star Cyrus here too. Voice just as beautiful and acting remarkably good. He lives every inch of that role. Kenneth Tarver as Belshazzar is less human and much more animal. Deliberately overplayed, I think; I kept thinking he was the embodiment of all the evil qualities than any group at war naturally ascribes to its enemy, if only for propaganda purposes. He's so creepy that it's a surprise, when he finally sings, to hear such a clear, attractive voice. 

Right. But. Rosemary Joshua. That's really why I'm here. I've known her name for a long time, and heard her occasionally on disc (she's even on Bejun's CD) but she'd never registered with me as somebody to actively pursue. Then she arrived on my screen with her extraordinary opening monologue and ... wow. As strong as all the acting in this show is, she still tops everybody for intensity, for beauty, for all round amazingness. She's scintillating, and her voice will apparently do anything she asks it to. So dignified and so fragile, with an uncanny ability to make even the most gossamer da capo ornament sound like an essential part of her character.

Seriously, she's so completely my type it's not funny, and I can't account for my delay in falling for her. No excuses. I just need more Rosemary. There's a box in Sydney somewhere which contains my copy of her Handel duets CD with Sarah Connolly (I know), a CD I only managed to hear once before packing everything up and putting in storage. I'll get it back eventually. In the meantime, YouTube is my friend, and there are a couple of Handel operas I might need to own.

Trailer. No Rosemary, but plenty of Bejun, and how fantastic is that choir?

Opera Australia in 2012

Opera Australia's 2012 season has been officially launched. It's combative and equine. By which I mean, it's all about the warhorses. Below is Operabase's list of the 20 most frequently performed operas worldwide since 2005. The ones in bold are in Opera Australia's season.

1. Die Zauberflöte
2. La traviata (Opera on the Harbour)
3. Carmen 
4. La bohème
5. Le nozze di Figaro 
6. Tosca 
7. Don Giovanni (Oz Opera tour) 
8. Madama Butterfly 
9. Il barbiere di Siviglia
10. Rigoletto 
11. Così fan tutte 
12. L'elisir d'amore 
13. Aida 
14. Hänsel und Gretel 
15. Turandot 
16. Die Fledermaus 
17. Nabucco 
18. Eugene Onegin 
19. Lucia di Lammermoor
20. Pagliacci 

Operas in the season which don't make this list are: The Merry Widow (#22), Salome (#32), Pearlfishers (#80), A Midsummer Night's Dream (#84), Die Tote Stadt (#138) and South Pacific, which is not an opera so not ranked.

My opinion of this season is more or less irrelevant, given that I don't live in Australia any more. I also don't have any fundamental objection to warhorses per se; there's a reason the favourites are the favourites, they're always going to be the backbone of most opera seasons, and rightly so. I can tell you, though, that if I was still in Australia, I wouldn't be jumping for joy over this season. There's plenty worth seeing and hearing — and I'd still go to everything — but I like variety and novelty and a challenge, and the fact is that, in only five years of operagoing (and four of those based in Sydney), I've seen all but two of these operas on stage at least once before.

Then again, those two are two of the most exciting things ever, because they're both awesome operas — Die Tote Stadt and Salome — and they both feature Cheryl Barker. AND they've been scheduled to coincide perfectly with trips we already had planned to Australia. Thank you, opera gods. Frankly I might resign myself to a whole year of nothing but Carmen and Bohème if it meant Cheryl's Salome and Marie/Marietta at the end. She's that good. 

I've known her name for years and years, so why did it take until this evening for me to fall in love with her?

Semele Aix Rosemary Joshua (by vilaph)

Wozzeck in Santa Fe

Yesterday evening at seven o'clock, just as we were preparing to leave for the theatre, the heavens opened up. Now, there have been some showers here lately — much welcome drought relief — but they've rarely been torrential and when they are, they're usually shortlived. Last week, for instance, it was bucketing down as we drove out to Bobcat Bite, but the rain was drying up even before our burgers arrived. But last night's was the heaviest and most diagonal we've seen. It brought the full stormy complement with it — thunder, lightning and wind — and showed no signs of letting up. Even the short trip from front door to car was suddenly looking like an ordeal, and I wasn't much relishing the prospect of the time I had to kill between depositing my tenor backstage and the start of the opera, two hours later.

Needs must, however. We made it from house to box office to backstage to Opera Club with minimal saturation. And once I was in the shelter of said club, with a Diet Coke and a squillion dollar view, the weather was no longer a problem. In fact it was downright picturesque. What other opera company could offer you a pre-show electrical storm? And what better opera to see in such conditions than a dark and stormy piece like Wozzeck? As the sun set, we had lightning in every direction, crackling across a pink and cloudy sky; and while it settled somewhat in time for the show, there were still intermittent flashes for the whole first half — including a magnificent bolt in time for Marie's first entrance, framed perfectly by the open back wall of the stage. It was as if they'd planned it.

Not that Daniel Slater's production needs much help in the atmosphere department. I've said on Twitter, and will say again here, this is one of the best productions of anything I've seen this year. The line between imagination and reality — sanity and madness — is blurred so gradually at first that you hardly realise it, and then when you do, the whole thing twists in an instant. Quite literally, in terms of the set, but figuratively as well. With a quick change of lightning and choreography, a perfectly innocent scene become grotesque, and you're pulled irresistibly into Wozzeck's crumbling psyche. In particular, I love how Slater has expanded the role of the Fool, who now — with pallid death mask and gently choreographed movements — becomes the embodiment of Wozzeck's darker thoughts, spurring him on to the murder of Marie and to his own demise.

David Robertson's conducting has been similarly revelatory. Of course it was thrilling to hear James Levine's Wozzeck in New York, but David brings out other facets of the score — its lyricism, its beauty — and in combination, I think my two contrasting experiences of the piece, especially so close together, make for a fairly special first encounter with this opera. One could hardly do better than to start with Levine; and upon that ear-opening foundation, David's reading has worked considerable new magic. 

I don't suppose anybody would turn their nose up at the cast here, either. Richard Paul Fink outstanding in his role début as Wozzeck — a tour de force any way you look at it, especially as this production has him onstage almost constantly — and Nicola Beller Carbone beautifully bringing out both Marie's hardness and her fragility. Eric Owens is somehow both jovial and malevolent as the deranged Doctor, Robert Brubaker superb as a tightly-wound Captain, and my own tenor a disturbingly convincing Drum Major. (Those high notes, which one reviewer in New York compared to hand grenades, sound even better in Santa Fe's far less barn-like acoustic.) Jason Slayden's fresh-faced Andres is a striking contrast to Wozzeck's broken spirit, Patricia Risley's Margret is delightfully arch, and Randall Bills as the Fool takes Slater's unusual concept and makes poetry of it.

The above are all my highly impartial views, of course, but take a look at the blog posts already up from the far less beholden Out West Arts and Opera Tattler, and you'll see I'm not alone in them. I'm curious to see the print reviews as well. Over the last few weeks, I've heard more than one Santa Fe veteran describe this production (it was last staged here in 2001) as one of the company's finest. It's my first Santa Fe show, so I've nothing to compare it to; but having already seen it three times this week (two rehearsal plus opening night) I'm more than prepared to believe them. I don't think it will be an easy one to beat.