Prima la musica, poi le parole

Good news, slightly less than good news

Slightly less than good news first. Via Iron Tongue of Midnight comes word that Ewa Podles has withdrawn from SF Opera's Ariodante. Ewa, don't leave me! Her replacement is none other than Sonia Prina, who sings Orlando for Opera Australia two months later. I've been terribly excited about the chance to hear Sonia over here — international singers at her level are a rare treat in these parts — but in place of Ewa? Not quite the same thing. I'm sure she'll be glorious. But I'd still have loved a chance to hear Ewa, Force of Nature, in person. Oh well.

The good news, however, is that I've had an excellent answer to one of my questions. I asked if anybody who knew who the TBA Rodolfo for the October season of La bohème would be. And, lo and behold, an anonymous comment tells me it will be Carlo Barricelli! This is in fact precisely the answer I'd hoped for. Carlo was seriously impressive in Il tabarro last year and I was very much disappointed by his absence from this year's season. Let's hope subsquent seasons will be able to make even better use of him; but for now, a Rodolfo will do. This boy may just be destined for very very Big Things; a comment on Parterre a little while ago mentioned he'd been covering Rodolfo at the Met, which is a bit impressive. So, looks like I'm off to yet another Bohème. Such is life. Thankyou for the tip, Anonymous!

Various

• Despite appearances, my experience of the La Scala Series La traviata was not All About Angela. There were other things. I liked Ramon Vargas and his voice a lot more in Alfredo than in Rodolfo. (And I liked him well enough there, but his Alfredo was just a bit more mellifluous and a bit more charming and, well, a bit more not La bohème.) Roberto Frontali's Germont père had the easiest flowing sound of the principal trio. The production is super traditional and kind of gorgeous; I liked it — Violetta gets fantastic frocks and I want to live in their country house. The La Scala Series experience is not as glossy or as full of features as the Met in HD moviecasts — sound and picture are both a bit scratchier, there's less sense of the audience, and there are no backstage shots and Conversations With Renée (or equivalent) — but still highly satisfying and, in its no frills way, sometimes a bit more immediate and exciting than the Met series. My hat is off to Greater Union Bondi Junction — screenings are in a smallish theatre, exactly the right size for the audience and for this kind of show. I didn't think any movie theatres still did reserved seating, but they do; seats are more steeply raked and further back from the screen than at the Chauvel, which, coupled with the small size of the theatre, means there are really No Bad Seats. The popcorn is brilliant, none of this upmarket (and admittedly tasty) "popped in olive oil" business like in Paddington; here it's your trademark fake butter flavour and a world of salt. Bought from a gargantuan snack bar.
  
• I don't suppose anybody out there has any idea who's singing Rodolfo for OA when La bohème returns in October? The website is still listing him as TBA. Otherwise it's basically a dream cast — the best people from the two casts we had earlier in the year. Amelia Farrugia as Musetta, José Carbo as Marcello and the scintillating Antoinette Halloran as Mimi. That's probably enough to make me see it again (yes, even though it's Bohème — I'm taking my Antoinette opportunities wherever I get them) but I'd like to know if they'll have a Rodolfo to match. Any clues welcome. Offer them anonymously if you like.
  
• Speaking of the scintillating Antoinette Halloran — any Wellington readers manage to attend her recital in the wonderfully named Sings Wellington series? Gorgeous Lieder in the first half and Poulenc's La voix humaine in the second. If you did — I am jealous. And a little in awe. I think anyone just performing the Poulenc is a bit special, but to do it with piano only and after already having sung the first half of a recital? Wow.
  
• Everything is booked and (touch wood) unjinxable now. So, my official schedule for San Francisco, in case anybody will be there and would like to say hello/stalk me (not so much the latter) is as follows:
  20th June — Lucia di Lammermoor
  21st June — Ariodante
  22nd June — Das Rheingold (matinée)
  23rd June — Lucia (again)
  24th June — death by exhaustion (presumably)

More movies

Have I been living in a cave? I didn't think so, but I'm more than a little surprised I hadn't already heard about this. The "La Scala Series" — cinema presentations of recent productions from La Scala (and a couple from Venice and Florence) — is being screened in a selection of Greater Union cinemas, including one near (well, near enough) me. Why hasn't this been bigger news? Or is it just me? I found out because I've ended up on the mailing list for Opera Queensland and happened to notice an ad for screenings in that state. I followed the link and discovered they're happening in Bondi too.

And they look pretty fantastic. The program detail links on the Greater Union site don't seem to work, but there's more information here, courtesy of the distributor, Arts Alliance Media. My timing is perfect, thank god — I'm just in time for a La traviata this weekend starring none other than the bewildering star of my last post, Angela Gheorghiu. A week ago I might have wished for somebody else but for now her ambiguous fascination holds and I'm curious to see her Violetta. I've seen her famous Covent Garden performance on DVD, but that was years ago, and if I'm completely honest, while I enjoyed it, I wasn't overwhelmed by it the way the rest of the world seems to have been. But now the prospect of Angela is semi-alluring and I suspect that (even if against my will) I might get a bit more of a thrill this time around. Or not, but we'll see.

Also, Maria Stuarda! Which makes me happy in itself but comes with a dynamic duo as a bonus — Mariella Devia as Maria and Anna Caterina Antonacci as Elisabetta. Yes please! Mariella is somebody I forever reading about but haven't yet had an opportunity to enjoy. The darkly fascinating Anna Caterina, meanwhile, is somebody I already know and adore.

There appears to be an Aida featuring Roberto Alagna, which is intriguing. Pre walk-out, presumably. The chance to hear the rest of La rondine appeals; the name Fiorenza Cedolins rings bells, though I'm not sure if they're good bells or bad bells. What else? A Forza conducted by Zubin Mehta, with Violeta Urmana and Marcello Giordano — not bad. Il Trittico, which as far as I can tell may or may not include lovely Barbara Frittoli as Angelica. Paoletta Marrocu, who I remember as a strange and terrifying Lady Macbeth to Thomas Hampson's funny looking (sorry — he did sound wonderful) Macbeth, is Giorgetta in Il tabarro. Those are pretty much the only names I recognise but that's no indicator of anything; in fact much of the appeal here is the chance to hear singers I don't know — one of the disadvantages of living in this half of the planet is that, without travelling, it's hard to know much about anyone without a recording contract. The final production in the series is, lo and behold, a Tristan und Isolde! So unless I finally go and buy myself a recording in between, both my first and my second Tristan will be enhanced by popcorn. Did I mention this one has Waltraud Meier? It does. I like her a lot, based on nothing more substantial than her appearance in James Levine's Anniversary Gala. Michelle DeYoung reappears as Brangäne. Ian Storey is Tristan and I can't shake the feeling that his name should mean something more to me than it does.

Of course, all this does mean that I have to start going to Bondi in my weekends, which doesn't have me wild with joy. But suffering for art is part of the deal.

Elsewhere

Bits and pieces from around the place that need sharing. Nothing blazingly new, so you might have already seen/heard/read it all, but if not, voilà.

• Lord knows I have raved enough about Cheryl Barker here, but rarely have I been able to offer any evidence of her fabulousness to those who haven't had the good fortune to experience her. So now, for any who might have doubted the truth of my words — Musica Viva has posted a short excerpt from her Butterfly for Opera Australia. Watch it and tell me she's not beautiful. Go on, I dare you. Me, I can watch it five times in a row and my knees go weak every time. One week until Arabella opens!
• The link to this video was posted to the Opera Australia Facebook group (the one whose moderator hates this blog was once quite unkind about this blog but evidently [see comments] does not, in fact, hate it). Comedian Rainer Hersch provides surtitles for Carmen. Very clever and very funny.
• Surely anyone who reads this blog must also read the blog of Glorious Joyce DiDonato, where she writes beautifully and posts gorgeous photos. But just in case, a couple of recent favourites of mine that you need to see: I absolutely love this photo (and covet that dress); and I just have to share this admirable sentiment.
• A commenter has pointed out this site, dedicated to Kathleen Battle. It's not an official site, but all the important information is there. It is so nice to see something current, and even nicer to see that my adored Kathy is still performing. I hope her Carnegie Hall recital is wonderful. Her Baroque Duet is on my iPod and it's all I can do not to burst into tears on the ferry to work.
• Vivat Kiri. She's already been taken out of context and vilified, and will no doubt continue to be. But I'm with her all the way. See Ross Browne's comment at the top of this page.
• And of course, since this is one of those posts, the obligatory NatalieTube link: an interview with Laurent Ruquier. If she told me to jump off a bridge, I might just do it; I'm totally under this woman's spell. Oh, and this too. Natalie sings Poulenc! (audio only)
  

Various

• There are more reasons every day for me to love Alice Coote. The latest — her recital on the EMI Début label, released in 2003. I heard this for the first time perhaps a year ago, but only the first half, and I never got to hear it again. This week I bought it at a bargain bin price and swooned anew. I remembered that it was drop dead gorgeous, but remembering that is one thing; drowning in it is another. What perplexes me is that she doesn't appear to have recorded another solo album since this one. She ought. Just for me.
• I'm so devoted. Despite the higher prices (yes, I'm still bitter about that) I went on Monday afternoon to book myself in for second helpings of two operas I don't much like or want to see again, in order to see somebody I do like sing in them. Antoinette in La bohème tomorrow night (and, as a bonus, lovely Taryn Fiebig as Musetta) and Joshua Bloom as Escamillo on the 28th. I really had to push myself into the Carmen — I had at least hoped I could make it to one of the few performances where Joshua and Kirsten Chavez coincide, but they're sold out. (That's Carmen for you. The reviewers — by which I mean The Mighty McCallum and (hah) myself — were not enthusiastic.) However missing out on my third Joshua Bloom Dandini (yes, still bitter about that, too) persuaded me; it will also be nice to see Catherine Carby as Carmen — about time I saw her in a proper role, not the Bela Lugosi role in Streetcar — and Tiffany Speight as Micaela.
• While looking for something else — I forget what now — I stumbled across the information that Opera Australia will stage Fidelio in 2009. That prompted me to do a little more Googling, from which I've gleaned (look away now if you'd prefer to be surprised in August) that the 2009 season will also include Madama Butterfly, a Cav/Pag and an Aida, the last of these with imported principals, which is hardly surprising. There may or may not be a Manon Lescaut. And of course, there's presumably the Dido & Aeneas I posted about the other day, which I'm already breathlessly anticipating.
• I really, really, really like Alice Coote (and I must be a Handel geek, because my brain said Alice but my fingers typed Alcina). I'm listening to the CD while writing. She's too gorgeous to be believed. And this is five years ago. Need. More. Alice.

Saper vorrei

Next month Opera Australia is doing Un ballo in maschera. With the exception of an aria or two, this is an opera with which I am not at all familiar. And so I ask you, dear readers, for advice.

Which recording of Un ballo in maschera would you recommend to a Ballo-beginner such as myself?

Preferably something still in print and reasonably priced — though all suggestions will be considered — and at the risk of being yelled at/politely admonished, there's not much point recommending me the Maria Callas recording of anything. At least not in this kind of situation.

As I say, all suggestions considered. However, having paid a quick visit to Premiere Opera, I have a second, more specific question which is perhaps more to the point:

Do I want the live 1978 Ballo from Covent Garden with Sylvia Sass, José Carreras et al, or the live 1981 Ballo from Covent Garden with Montserrat Caballé, Luciano Pavarotti et al?

My immediate leaning is towards the 1981 recording, but what do I know?

Advise away.

Various

• I had meant to write something about La bohème but other things happened and I didn't. Anyway, it was fine. It was La bohème. Aldo di Toro was lovely, as always, though I have to say, not as blazingly so as in La traviata; José Carbo as Marcello was in fact the star of the evening. I'm still concerned about Amelia Farrugia's apparently non-existent middle-to-lower register. And I still cannot wait for Antoinette Halloran's Mimi; I know, I know, I put myself at risk with such high expectations, but the risk is what makes it so much fun.
• Is 2008 my year for baritones? I saw La cenerentola last night (review for The Opera Critic forthcoming) and as with Bohème, the baritone — Joshua Bloom — stole the show. And it was a pretty fantastic show anyway, but he was just superb in every way. And is most of the reason I'm planning to see it a couple more times. There's probably a longer, rhapsodic post on him in the offing.
• And excuse me for stating the bleeding obvious, but — Lorraine Hunt Lieberson = perfection. I've been listening to her for several years, her Handel CD is on my iPod, it's not as if she's a new discovery, so this is nothing I didn't theoretically already know. But somehow in the last week I've begun to truly feel it in my bones. Thank god she's already been written about so beautifully by far better writers than myself, because I wouldn't know where to start. But wow.

Two thousand and eight

Typically at the beginning of a new year I start thinking about what I'm looking forward to. And generally speaking, the events I expect will be the greatest, the most exciting, the most important, turn out to be nothing of the sort, and the true highlights come from unexpected quarters. Not that my poor success rate prevents me predicting. So.

I expect The Makropulos Secret (as Opera Australia has chosen to translate the title) to be one of the Events of the year, even though it comes quite close to the end of the season. I expect not to attend My Fair Lady, but am grateful to it for funding things like the Janacek and Billy Budd. I expect as well that I'll love Billy Budd more than I think I will, too; no sopranos, it's true, but it is Britten after all. I very much hope that Rachelle Durkin, as both Donna Anna and Angelica, will live up to the stratospheric standard I've set based on her gorgeous Alcina. And I expect to fall in love, either again or for the first time, with at least one opera which right now I think myself immune to.

In the world outside the Opera House, I plan to spend more time with Mirella Freni, Patrizia Ciofi and the works (in every genre) of Francis Poulenc. I may or may not pursue Felicity Lott further. Natalie just happens, so no need to expect or resolve anything there. One of the most exciting musical events on my horizon is actually not operatic or even vocal: a visit in October from the fabulous Angela Hewitt, part of her Bach World Tour. The Musica Viva recital featuring Cheryl Barker, Peter Coleman-Wright and Piers Lane (and, apparently, a gigantic swan) looks pretty irresistible too. And I resolve to acquire a cat.

And 2008 will bring a few changes in this blog too. You may or may not recall, I began an experiment some months ago, establishing a second blog devoted exclusively to Opera Australia. It's been mildly successful, but not enough so to merit its separate existence, so it's being incorporated into this blog, meaning, in short, more Sydney content here. At the same time, there will be fewer actual reviews: beginning with La boheme tomorrow night (well technically tonight) I'll be reviewing Sydney performances for The Opera Critic. So that's where the reviews will be. But I've no doubt I'll still find plenty to write (read: bleat on) about here. There may be a few other changes here and there, but they're still in the planning stages, and none are drastic.

Is that everything? Not by a long shot, I shouldn't think. However it's all the occurs to me for now; and I have the rest of the year to remember the rest.

Two thousand and seven

Quelle surprise! A year-in-review post.

Best live performance

For the first time, I actually have a great deal to choose from. This was my first year of frequent and regular operagoing, when all it took to get to an opera house was busfare, not a plane ticket and a hotel. In terms of excellence across the board, I think I have to pick Rusalka as the highlight from Opera Australia. The opera was revelation to me, the performance woke me up to the talents of Cheryl Barker and even despite a couple of serious flaws (Jezibaba's laboratory and white coat, for instance) it remains a seriously good-looking and striking production. Alcina deserves honourable mention also, another impressive production with Rachelle Durkin ferociously fabulous in the title role; if only every other role had been cast as strongly. And kudos to Moffatt Oxenbould's Il trittico which has stood the test of time, fresher and brighter than its age might suggest, and adorned with a radiant Cheryl Barker as all three heroines. Of course there is more to Sydney than Opera Australia (just). Philippe Jaroussky's concerts with the Brandenburg Orchestra were baroque bliss. I enjoyed a trip to the Kangaroo Valley Arts Festival for a recital by the one and only Yvonne Kenny, above all for the opportunity to hear once more her performance of Liszt's "Der du von dem Himmel bist". The first time I ever heard Yvonne in recital (two and a half years ago now) she sang this and I nearly blacked out (seriously); this time I kept my composure and revelled in the total beauty of her singing, which is like nothing else in my life. Best of all in 2007, however, was the Sydney Symphony's performance of Mozart's Mass in C Minor, an exquisite and deeply moving musical experience which I shan't ever forget.

Best on record

Three new releases this year stand out for me. Sandrine Piau's collection of German and French songs, Evocation, is a pleasure which everyone deserves to enjoy. Perhaps the most personal and intimate of Sandrine's solo releases, her usual pyrotechnics replaced by a depth and radiance of expression which is no less breathtaking. Carolyn Sampson's Purcell disc, Victorious Love, is another must have for those with ears, a candy shop of a CD - every track a delectable (and yet calorie-free!) treat. The third is a disc I haven't written about here, mostly because it's a very difficult one to write about, but it's perhaps the most extraordinary CD I heard all year: Terezin/Theresienstadt, a selection of music written in Terezin concentration camp, performed by Anne Sofie von Otter and friends. There is no way in the world to write in a normal way about a project like this, but it is a truly amazing recording, in terms of historical interest, musical values and devastating emotional content.

Discoveries

Quite a few this year, but again three of particular significance. In January I found Carolyn Sampson via Rameau, was immediately bewitched and have only grown more so. Frankly I find it hard to fathom that the person who has this voice just walks around, existing like any normal human being; and meanwhile she has the ability to make that sound. Incredible. Then there was the totally divine Mirella Freni, who caught me off guard in a Best of Puccini collection and has yet to release her grip. The third, if you hadn't guessed, was of course Cheryl Barker, one of the hugest changes of heart I've experienced. From inexplicable indifference I moved to slightly begrudging admiration and then, courtesy of Il trittico, to abject devotion.

Rediscovery

2007 was also a year for rekindling old affections. My love for Kathleen Battle has never waned, as such, but this year was stronger than ever. Likewise Barbara Bonney, who has never sounded lovelier to me than she has this year. And after a worrying period of ambivalence, I returned, thanks to her incredible disc Maria, to one of my very first loves, the unique, wonderful and probably insane Cecilia Bartoli.

Other stuff

Naturally I continued this year to adore and venerate the miraculous Natalie Dessay, and remain very very grateful to the YouTube user who managed to post footage of the Mad Scene from her Met Lucia barely a day after it opened. Pinchgut's Juditha triumphans was a fantastic pre-Christmas treat, with the particular thrill of Fiona Campbell's out-of-this-world "Armatae face et anguibus". I was amused by the brief flurry of attention I received from a Vittorio Grigolo fan club message board after giving him a less than great review for his performance in Rossini's Stabat Mater. One of the most entertaining nights of the year was the Sydney Symphony's concert performance of Isaac Nathan's rightly obscure Don John of Austria, mostly lacking musical merit but a gorgeous vehicle for gorgeous Cheryl, and pretty hilarious too. Two loves of my life came together when I had the immense joy of hearing Yvonne Kenny sing Strauss' Four Last Songs with the Australia Ensemble. And on the second-to-last day of the year, I attended my first Met cinema broadcast, an excellent Roméo et Juliette and a sign that these broadcasts will continue to be a source of great pleasure.

But above all else

In my mind, 2007 will remain The Year of Streetcar. I started preparing for this months before it was announced. I bought the play a week before the press release. I bought the recording eleven months before the premiere and listened and listened and listened. And read, and thought, and wrote. A couple of posts turned into a vast series, a track-by-track dissection of the opera. Naturally it was about Blanche, one of the most taxing roles Yvonne Kenny has ever taken on. By the time I saw the first performance, I knew most of her words. By the end, when I'd seen it eight times, I knew all of her words and, in a rough kind of way, her music too. I still do. I won't claim it was Yvonne's greatest role but it was nevertheless an extraordinary triumph for her, a demonstration of her talent, her musical intelligence and her personal strength. And I won't claim that I love A Streetcar Named Desire, nor that I ever desire to hear it again. But I've never approached any opera the way I did Streetcar, and that intense immersion will remain my most enduring impression of 2007.

Curiosities

• An interesting (read: seriously weird) juxtaposition. Lucy Shelton singing David del Tredici's bizarre, atonal and often hilarious "Vintage Alice" (set for soprano, two saxophones, mandolin, banjo, accordion and chamber ensemble) followed immediately by Elena Souliotis crashbanging her way through Anna Bolena's "O dolce guidami" and some Big Verdi. Frankly, Elena is jarring enough (though not without a thrill or three) without the added confusion of listening when my brain was still in del Tredici mode.
• I haven't listened to it yet. But as it was 1. appealing and 2. a serious bargain, I've bought a copy of Kent Nagano's recording of the French version of Salome. I probably should own a copy of the German version before trying this one out, but too late. It looks intriguing, and contains José van Dam, which is always a plus.
• Very very bored yesterday afternoon, I amused myself by typing "O mio babbino caro" into iTunes, removing the Artist field from the results and listening at random to see who I could pick from the hundreds of recordings. Mirella was lovely to hear, Rita Streich adorable and Angela Gheorghiu surprisingly appealing. But oh my there are a lot of nowhere-near-ready sopranos with CDs available for purchase, recordings which display huge vibratos and minimal personality. And then there's the truly terrifying Aria Tesolin. Google her. I daren't link. You Have Been Warned. (Hint: she's also known as "Baby Soprano".)
• I have a CD released by Etcetera in 1987. I've always been struck by the warts-and-all sound of it — you can hear the soprano's every breath and gulp, you can hear exactly how much air is being expelled and when, you can more or less hear how every syllable is being produced. Fascinating, but mercilessly exposed; thankfully for her, she comes through it pretty well, but others wouldn't. Then last night, when all was silence, I listened to it on headphones and realised the first time just how much background noise has been picked up. I'm used to the odd tap and click, a page being turned and so on. But on this recording I can hear church bells, a child shouting and incessantly chirping birds. All in all, I think if you'd recorded these songs in a single take on a summer day in a practice room with the window open, and released them without much further production, you'd achieve the same effect. What I wonder is why? I have a couple of other Etcetera records from around the same time, neither of which display similar oddities. And it's not that I mind; actually I rather love that feeling of reality and intimacy, but it's not something I've noticed elsewhere, and it does seem strange, so I do sort of wonder why it happened.