Prima la musica

Can't help but post this. I suspect I saw the person filming it.

Parsifal - Zurich Opera House - October 2nd 2011 - Final curtain call (zoom) (by FanaticosdaOpera)

Cheryl's Tosca

From Taiwan I flew to Sydney and then, after a few days of shopping and catching up with friends and former colleagues, on to Brisbane, for Opera Queensland's Tosca. Or rather, for Cheryl Barker's Tosca. The list of Sopranos I Will Travel For has only one consistent entry, and Cheryl is it. I couldn't justify an Australian trip for her Capriccio earlier this year, but this Tosca I was determined to see. 

Now, if had still been living in Sydney, a quick trip to Brisbane and back would have been no big deal — I might have even done it on two consecutive weekends, to see more shows — but arranging such a trip in the midst of this year's travels required more advanced logistical skills. It was fortunate, then, that the Taiwan Fidelio put me at least put me in vaguely the right part of the world. Had I been coming from Europe, it would have been a much more gruelling trip: getting back over here (I arrived in Dresden last night) from Sydney took roughly 38 hours.

Would I have travelled 38 hours to see Cheryl's Tosca? You bet I would have. Maybe that's the sheer lunacy of devotion speaking, but she repays me so completely for any effort or money I spend in seeing her, that I've always felt I had the better end of the deal. In truth, she transcends all those boring, quotidian things — booking fees and airplane food and unwieldy broken-handled suitcase — anyway, so that the question of whether she's worth the price is irrelevant. She's Cheryl, she's my diva, and she's priceless.

Her Tosca did to me what all of Cheryl's characters do to me the moment she turns her hand to playing them: she changed for the better, gained an extra degree of warmth, sympathy and just plain irresistibility. She always finds room for a revelation (or at least a revelation to me) in every role, even something like Tosca, where so many have gone before. I always love a character more when she's passed through the Cheryl Barker filter, and Tosca — whom I've always respected but never felt especially close to — was no exception.

I loved the sweetness and lighthearted humour she brought to her Act I interactions with Mario, her jealous behaviour — which tends to irritate me — delivered with enough self-awareness to make it endearing instead. I loved also the intense play of emotions in her eyes in Act II, as she gripped the knife and built herself up to the fatal moment. And her naïve optimism in Act III broke my heart almost as much as Cio-Cio San's does, which is saying something. I've never loved Tosca like I do Butterfly, but in Brisbane, let me tell you, I came close. It was also a joy to hear such a remarkably organic and sensitively developed Vissi d'arte, not always the case with such a famous set piece of an aria. 

Lest I be accused of ignoring everybody else, let me say that we had a wonderfully heartfelt Cavaradossi in Julian Gavin, a malevolent, dark-voiced Scarpia in Douglas McNicol (best Sharpless ever!) and very buffo Sacristan in the inimitable John Bolton Wood. Most of the rest of the cast were making role débuts, and all did so admirably. The chorus were excellent, the orchestra better still, and I liked Nicholas Braithwaite's majestic and highly dramatic reading of the score a lot.

John Copley's production has been around a long time, and is as traditional a Tosca as you could hope to find, but unlike some productions of similar vintage, this one deserves its longevity, because it still works incredibly well. It's as opulent as it needs to be, but not overstuffed with crowds or lavish costumes, and it tells the story clearly and with strong theatrical instincts. Beyond that, it just gets the hell out of the way and lets great performers do what they do best: bring the opera to life. Which is exactly what this cast (and revival director Cath Dadd) did.

I cannot, however, tell a lie. This was an excellent show in all its facets (probably one of the best all-round nights at the opera I've had this year, in fact) but I was there for Cheryl alone and oh my, it was wonderful to see and hear her again for the first time in very nearly a year. I don't think I realised how much I'd missed her until I heard that first offstage "Mario!" and got, yes, a bit teary. Just to hear that incredibly familiar and oh-so-glorious voice again, and to watch her weave her very particular magic, as I have so many times before, was a beautiful thing. It was at least as much a homecoming as when I'd arrived in Sydney a few days earlier; possibly even more so.

I've had an extraordinary year of opera. Even I can't really grasp the people and places I've seen, the voices I've heard, or the fascinating backstage world to which I've been gradually admitted. Yet with the sole exception of my own particular tenor (and that's different anyway) Cheryl still wins. She's still the highest highlight, just as she always was. I always knew she was my favourite in the world, and this year's adventures have only served to make me even surer. Vive la reine. 

Fidelio

Sunday night's Fidelio — the second of two performances with the National Taiwan Symphony Orchestra under Lan Shui — was in Yuchi Township, site of Sun Moon Lake and accordingly of the Sun Moon Lake Festival, of which this concert was a part. There had also been a performance the previous evening at what I assume to be the orchestra's regular venue in Taichung.

It was an adventure. The lake is gorgeous, although sadly among the cast only Rocco was lucky enough to have a room with a view. And you can't see it from the car park either. Did I mention that? The Fidelio was performed in a car park. A very large car park, mind you, and presumably the biggest open space in town, which is why it's used for open air concerts like this. Nevertheless, it was slightly disconcerting having to pick our way through all the tour buses to find the dressing tents (yep, tents) but we made it in the end.

And despite occasional attempts by car alarms to Ligetify Beethoven's score, it turned out to be a pretty cool evening. It had been pouring with rain throughout the afternoon soundcheck, but by the time 7.30 rolled around, it was starting to dry. Nevertheless, I wasn't too keen on the plastic seats, so I found a spot in the wings instead, and watched from there. Being a concert performance, there was very little dialogue included, but happily the gaps were bridged by not one but two costumed narrators — a gentleman (who had directed the semi-staging) dressed as Beethoven and a lady in spangled quasi-Victorian garb. I'm not sure who she was — perhaps the ferne Geliebte? — but the pair of them definitely added to the evening's entertainment value. 

Our cast, for the record: Janice Watson as Leonore, Carsten Wittmoser as Rocco, Simon Neal as Pizarro, Klara Ek as Marzelline, Diang Wang as Jaquino, Simon Lim as Don Fernando and of course The Tenor In My Life, Stuart Skelton as Florestan. Much fun had by all, I think — it wasn't the most straightforward week, but was definitely an adventure, and often quite hilarious. And the singing wasn't too shabby either.

Sleepless in Taichung

For reasons best known to Herr Doktor Jetlag, I have not slept for nearly thirty hours, but nevertheless I am, of my own free will, going to watch a six hour Fidelio rehearsal tonight, here in Taichung with the National Taiwan Symphony Orchestra. The first concert is tomorrow (in a venue I've not yet seen) and then on Saturday, there's an outdoor concert at the very scenic Sun Moon Lake — it's part of the Sun Moon Lake Festival — to what we've been told will be an audience of ten thousand. Ten thousand. 

Anyway, that's all to come; rehearsal first, which will be the first I've attended and, more significantly, the first time I've heard The Tenor In My Life sing even a note of Florestan. I understand he's rather good at though; shall report back on same. My well-established soprano partisanship has always made me a fool for Marzelline, though; there's something about that Act I aria of hers that just gets me. Every time. I know that the quartet which follows should be the opera's first Big Transcendent Moment, but thanks to Marzelline, I'm always teary before it's even begun.

I've already posted Lucia Popp's glorious rendition of said aria here at least once, so instead, here's one I've just watched for the first time and which I think is also seriously gorgeous. Obligatory lump in throat already rising. Here we go. Elizabeth Gale.

Elevator girls at SOGO department store, Taichung. (Taken with instagram)