Prague Music Orchestra – Frantisek Pok, conductor; O. Jelinkova – soprano. May 20, 2018.

Smetana Hall, Municipal Building, Prague.  Orchestra B (Seat 21-10, CzK 950).

Program – Strauss, Mozart, Dvorak & Opera with Ballet.

When we planned this trip we found out, somewhat to our chagrin, that both the opera and concert seasons would be over by the time we come to Prague.  That, of course, refers to the major organizations such as the Czech National Symphony or the State Opera (not sure what the actual names are.)

Of course in many major European cities there are always concerts and operas going on, some of them designed for tourists and marketed heavily – Vienna is a good example.  Turns out Prague is similar, in many tourist spots (e.g., Republic Plaza) there are ticket booths for these sort of concerts.

When it comes to Czeckoslavia (we are of course talking the Czech Republic) the composers Smetana, Dvorak, and Janacek come to mind.  If one digs deeper, the names Suk and Mahler would also come up.  We had a chance to see Turnadot, but decided not to as we had an early flight the next day.  However, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see Smetana Hall, and thus bought tickets to this event.  The tickets cost about US$40 each.  A tourist trap, no doubt, but – as someone reminded me – we are tourists.

The concert was reasonably well attended, I would say 40% full in a hall that seats about 1250 (per Wikipedia.)  And it appears to host some world-class events also.  For instance, David Robertson would be conducting the Czech Philharmonic in a June 1 concert as part of the annual Prague Spring series.

The program tonight, however, was mostly familiar favorites.  The orchestra was small, maybe 14 people total, and there was a piano that sometimes was used as a continuo instrument.

When they first got started with the Magic Flute Overture I said to myself “uh uh” as the two first violins were not quite in sync.  To my relief things got better soon afterwards, and I got to appreciate how good the acoustics in the hall was.  Every now and then ballet dancers would come out and perform.  There was this little girl (perhaps 8?) who was quite impressive.

Jelinkova did quite a few songs.  (It may not be Jelinkova, as the program lists three possible alternates.)  Her voice is quite strong, but a bit muffled, probably due to where she stood on the stage.

Curtain Call.  Soprano Jelinkova is on the left in this photograph.

I am sure one can connect the pieces performed somehow to Czechoslovakia, I would have preferred more direct references.  How about some excerpts from The Moldau, we are in Smetana Hall, after all.

Overall, we were glad to have attended this concert.  And it was indeed an hour in duration, as advertised; the Magic Flute overture counts as Opera.

With this, our 4-city 8-concert European Concert Tour concludes.

Volksoper Wien – Offenbach’s Hoffmanns Erzahlungen. May 18, 2018.

Volksoper Wien.  Galerie Rechts (Seat 5-18, 44 euros).

Story.  See previous post.

Gerrit Priessnitz – conductor.  Hoffmann – Vincent Schirrmacher, Die Muse/Niklaus – Juliette Mars, Olympia – Sophia Theodorides, Antonia – Anja-Nina Bahrmann, Giulietta – Kristiane Kaiser, Stella – Ursula Pfitzner, Lindorf/Coppelius/Dr. Mirakel/Dapertutto – Josef Wagner.

Poster describing tonight's cast and creative team.

Vienna State Opera evidently has a little sibling called People’s Opera, so we decided to give this a try, making the Tales of Hoffmann our sixth opera on this trip, and our seventh musical event.

The website for the opera said the show would be done in German and French, and that there would be German (only) surtitles.  A bit of a worry, but we thought we should know enough about the music, and that the story is simply a retelling of three of Hoffmann’s failed love experiences.  How difficult can it be?  On top of that, Shirley and I each had a year of German in college … Bottom line, while we clearly knew what story was being told at any moment, there was really no way to get the gist of the action.  One year of German 30 odd years ago?  No use. What was to me most surprising was that there were only a few tunes that I remember well: Olympia’s song, and the opening theme to the Giulietta segment came readily to mind.

Volksoper stages more than operas.  Here they are clearly doing the Wizard of Oz.

Overall it was an enjoyable experience.  For many reasons - including language, length of opera at 3:45 hours, and this being the seventh concert in 10 days – we were slightly overwhelmed.

Our seats were in the middle of the Galerie, the highest level in the theater.  The sound was generally so good that I wonder if there is some sort of enhancement system in place.

Schirrmacher looked very Asian – he is equal parts British, Chinese, Japaneses, and Mongolian – and has lived in Vienna for a while.  He had to sing against several “leading ladies” and did very well.  The costumes were a bit humorous.  Olympia the robot had a wide hemmed dress which she opened up at some point to show her “legs” which could be contorted in different ways.  Half of Antonia’s dress was painted as a skeleton which extended to part of her face – she was on the verge of dying, afterall.  For the gaudy scenes, women were in flesh-colored body suits.  Mad scientists and the like looked their parts with wired headgear and very long fingers.  Given the undoubtedly low budget they had to work with, the set designers did a credible job of creating believable scenes for the various acts.  The Met production we saw last year may have been more intricate, but I don’t think it had a lot over tonight’s production.

Schirrmacher taking a bow.  Behind him are Olympia, Giulietta, the conductor, the Muse, and Antonia (notice the half-skeleton dress and make-up.)

The Hoffmann in this poster looks nothing like Schirrmacher.

There was considerable “stand-alone” orchestra music, which was well-performed.  Again it sounded so loud that I wondered if it was sound enhanced.

The posters on this opera had a bearded western-looking gentleman in the role.  I wonder if Schirrmacher was a last-minute substitute.

The idea behind a “Volksoper” makes sense, and given the relatively inexpensive tickets seems to be realized to a certain extent.  We noticed many young people (teenagers) in our section, a phenomenon unthinkable in the US.  However, the availability of only German surtitles makes the show of only limited to tourists. I wonder if any thought has been given to making this more accessible to people who don’t speak German. One argument against it is probably they don’t want this to be like Vienna State Opera, but tourists will drive up the ticket prices, or make tickets more difficult to get.

Getting to the opera house was easy enough, although CS – who was on his own taking photographs in the city – went to Volkstheatre instead.  He eventually realized it was the wrong place and got to Volksoper about 10 minutes late, again a testament to the efficient transportation system.

Wiener Symphoniker – Manfred Honeck, conductor; Igor Levit, piano. May 17, 2018.

Grosser Musikvereinssaal, Vienna.  Balkon-Mitte (Seat 4-10, 58 euros).

Program

Concerto for piano and orchestra No. 5 in E major, op. 73 by Beethoven.

Symphony No. 5, op. 47 by Shostokovich.

 
Program

 While wandering around Vienna after our visit to the State Opera, we came upon this poster and recognized Musikverein and Honeck.  At first I was confused as I thought the Vienna Philharmonic season was already over by now, then we realized that it was the Vienna Symphony that would be playing.  That didn’t deter us, and we bought tickets to this concert.  Beethoven’s Emperor, played in Musikverein, what could possibly go wrong.

And nothing did. Overall, we were very happy to be able to make it to this concert.  It was quite well attended, and people seemed to dress much more casually than they do for operas (in any of the three cities we have visited.)

 Waiting for the concert to begin.

In case one wonders why in the ceiling paintings there are these women holding severed heads, they are muses of drama holding masks.

The Emperor concerto is always a crowd pleaser if it is competently played, and tonight was no exception.  While our seats were in the third row of the balcony, the view was surprisingly restricted given people sitting directly in front of us, and each tier of seats was raised only slightly from the tier in front.  Every now and then we could catch a glimpse of the young (31-year old) Levit working away at the piano.  He overpedalled a bit for our taste, but his playing was generally fluid and took the audience on a nice journey through Beethoven’s different moods.

Igor Levit after performing Beethoven's Emperor Concerto; Honeck acknowledging the orchestra members.

For encore he played a simple piece (Bach two-part invention?) probable to showcase his chamber music techniques.  Beyond appreciating the contrpuntal lines I couldn’t tell how well it was played.

I must have heard the Shostakovich a few times before as it sounded quite familiar.  Honeck brought out great contrast in the orchestra, and the orchestra seemed to respond well to his direction.  He was able to garner a huge dynamic range from the ensemble, except during the quiet moments the creaking caused by the seats in the house was annoying; even I felt embarrassed.

A much larger orchestra was used for the Shostakovich.  There were quite a few audience seats in the left-rear section of the orchestra.

The horns sounded tentative in the Beethoven piece, but here they were steady and robust.  Both the concertmaster and the flute had some solo lines, and they both discharged them confidently.

The applause was thunderous, and Honeck must have come out to acknowledge the audience four or five times.

This concert was not in our original plans for the trip, but we were happy to encounter this “bonus event.”

Wiener Staatsoper – Donizetti’s Don Pasquale. May 16, 2018.

Vienna State Opera, Balkon HalB Mitte Links (Seat 2-28, 68 euros).

Story.  See previous post.  In the telling of the story tonight, the scheme to deceive Pasquale was much more in evidence.

Program as posted on walls at Vienna State Opera house.

Conductor – Frederic Chaslin.  Don Pasquale – Roberto De Candia, Ernesto – Antonino Siragua, Malatesta – Adam Placherka, Norina – Danielle de Niese.

This was the last of the five operas we would see during this European trip.  They came fast and furious during the past week, and I have been having trouble keeping up with the writeups, more because my impression of one can easily be confused with that of a later one.  So I am trying to record my observations as quickly as possible.

If La Scala is known for its rich history, and the number of operas that saw their premiere there, then Vienna State is known for the number of operas it stages every year (they may do over 300 shows a year, if memory of my tour serves), and that the venue is very popular with tourists.

Our seats tonight certainly didn’t compare at all with what we had for the prior four concerts.  We didn’t have a good view of the right front part of the stage (from singers’ perspective), and much of the action – it felt like most of the action – took place there.  So that detracted from a full experience.  Not far from our seats stood the “standing room only” crowd.

The curtain was raised a few minutes before the performance, with the orchestra seated.

The other problem is the general lack of vested emotions in a comedy.  Having said that, I thought they did a good job of the comedic aspects of the plot.  This was the third time I saw the opera, and I thought this was the funniest.  Usually the “funny” either doesn’t take with me, or becomes “old hat” after I had seen it once, so this was a rare exception.

I was surprised at the low-budget stage, which put the time frame in the early 1940s, maybe, when there were rotary dial telephones.  For most of the performance diner tables were set up on stage, with a bar to the left, and a ballroom in the back.  For an inside scene a curtain was lowered and the audience was expected to fill in the mental details.  It got the job done, but I couldn’t help but wonder whether the place has fallen on hard financial times, as Don Pasquale did.

The orchestra did well, coming to the front or fading into the background as necessary.

The roles of Don Pasquale and Malatesta were sung by previously-unknown-to-me singers, and they both did well, articulating their lines.  Especially impressive was Siragua as Ernesto.  His voice was strong, and did a credible job imitating a young man in love.

The one name I had known before today was Danielle de Niese, whom I saw singing a relatively minor role at the Met (as Ariel in Jeremy Sam’s “The Enchanted Island,” in 2011.)  I remember being very impressed with her singing and had been wondering why she was not seen that often. For her to land a lead role at Vienna State is a testament to her persistence and talent, no doubt.  For tonight, her voice was strong, but that’s the only positive adjective I can think of to describe her performance.  Her voice sounded surprising grating and unrefined.  Which might well have been how the director wanted Norina to be, but nonetheless not a good reflection on her capabilities.

 The "supporting" cast at the end of the performance.

From left: De Chandia as Don Pasquale, de Niese as Norina, Siragua as Ernesto, and Placherka as Malatesta.

This was a relatively short opera.  With a start of 7:30 am, we were done at around 10 pm, which allowed us to walk around Musikverein and made a discovery about a concert … but that is a blog entry for another day …

Teatro alla Scala – Verdi’s Aida. May 15, 2018.

Teatro alla Scala – Palco I ord. Des. (Palchi Zona 2, Palco 10, Posto 3, 240 euros.)

Story.  See previous post.

 

Conductor – Daniel Oren.  Aida – Krassimira Stoyanova, Radames – Fabio Sartori, Amneris – Violeta Urmana.

Let’s again start with the bottom line: With tonight’s performance, La Scala by-an-large redeemed itself.  Perhaps it was the familiarity of an opera staple, or better singers, or better seats, or more understandable staging, … or a combination of these factors.  All four of us came away thinking this was a well-performed opera.

Outside the Teatro all Scala opera house.

First about the seats.  This was one of the first events we got tickets for this trip.  La Scala puts tickets on sale two months ahead of time – those that have not been claimed by subscribers, or via other means.  By the time this concert became available, only selected seats were left, all (or most) in the expensive 240 euro category.  And they were not contiguous seats.  We ended up with posti 3’s in different boxes on different levels.  They have a good view of the stage, but there are no screens for the subtitles, which make following the story difficult.  The two French folks in front put the screens in English and Italian for our benefit, but they were difficult to read.

The singing was generally superb.  It was remarked (forget by whom) that Amneris’s voice was weak, I don’t agree, and I thought it would be wrong to overshadow the protagonist anyway.  Stoyanova has one of the sweetest voices I have encountered, and she simply sang beautifully.  While Sartori may be too heavy to act like a dashing captain, he was steady and sounded substantive.  The two kings – especially the Nubian, performed by George Gagnidze– did well, the Nubian king was convincing when he tried to get Aida to get Radames to give up military secrets.

We saw this at the Met last year (April 2017).  When I looked at my blog entry I discovered to my amusement and chagrin that both the leading ladies were in the cast, and I found out just now that Gagnidze sang the role of Amonasro.  If my words are consistent, then today’s singing was better than what happened at the Met.  I certainly don’t recall enjoying Stoyanova’s singing to this extent.  With the 2017 Met performance I complained about the singers having only a "high" volume setting; they certainly could put out captivating soft passages.

The orchestra again put in an excellent performance.

The staging is billed as done by Franco Zeffirelli but “revived by” Marco Candini.  All I can say is the props looked like a subset of what we saw at the Met.  The Met stage seems to be considerably wider and deeper than La Scala’s, so things are consequently less “grand.”  Still elaborate, and for certain scenes too busy.  Generally it worked.  The only real objection I have is the unceremonious way Radames entered the tomb.

This is curtain call at conclusion of Opera.  However, the set was also used for the famous triumphal march.

Curtain Call for the main cast and Maestro Oren.

The dancers put on dark brown/black (couldn’t quite tell) for some of the scenes.  Both Anne and I wondered if that would fly in the US.

CS and I agreed that the Met is every bit as good as what we have seen in Zurich and Milan, even though the two opera houses were built over 100 and 200 years ago, respectively.  Over the last 40 years the Met had a music director whose name it not longer mentions, but Levine has to be given much credit to bring the Met to a standard that matches or even exceeds any other opera house in the world we have seen.  That our seats at the Met are usually not nearly as good further accentuates the point.  I have read many singers are reluctant to sing at the Met, simply because the audiences are more demanding, and the size of the auditorium must also be hard on their voices.

To paraphrase Frank Sinatra, if you can make it at the Met, you can make it anywhere.

Teatro alla Scala – Zandonai’s Francesco da Rimini. May 13, 2018.

Teatro alla Scala, Palcon II ord. Des. (Palchi Zone 2, Palco 13, Posto 5, 93.5 Euros).

Story.  Based on one of the encounters Dante had in Inferno, Francesca is tricked into marrying Giovanni, while she is actually in love with his brother Paolo.  The third brother Malatestino also loves Francesca.  So when he sees Paolo entering Francesca’s bedroom and stays the night, he informs Giovanni.  Giovanni tries to kill Paolo with a spear, but Francesca steps in front and is killed instead.

Conductor – Fabio Luisi;  Francesca – Maria Jose Siri, Paolo il bello – Marcelo Puente, Giovanni Io sciancato – Gabriele Viviani, Malastestino dall’Occhio – Luciano Ganci, Smaragdi (la schiava) – Idunnu Munch.

A major drive behind this trip is to see an opera in La Scala.  And I must say compared to our experience in Zurich, this was not nearly as positive.

Our seats were quite good, probably among the best in the house.  Evidently most balcony levels are occupied by boxes, with each box seating 6 people.  The boxes we were in had 4 seats at 110 euros, and one each at 93.5 and 60.5 euros.  When I booked the tickets, I saw that there were quite a few empty seats still, so I booked the first 2 and the last 2, hoping that the middle two seats wouldn’t be occupied: and the strategy worked.

Other than the top tier, all the balconies at La Scala are set up as boxes seating 5 or 6 people each.  View from our box is good for the occupiers of the first two seats, but only so-so for other seats in the box.

First the story, it is straightforward, but not the way it is told in the opera.  It didn’t help we didn’t know how to turn on the LED screens for the translations at first – I had to go ask an usher.  To complicate matters, the traditional-cum-modern design, with some liberty taken with the acting, added to my confusion.  For instance, there is this three-tier structure that is used to depict a catapult tower, and instead of catapults we have cannons.  At the end of the opera when Francesca dies, there is a spear that drops from the ceiling, and both she and Paolo lie dead on stage.  Fair enough, other than I worry the rope tying the spear may break and end up hurting someone.

One constant about the set is a statue of Francesca.  After Act I spears come out of the backstage, including her body, and they seem to lengthen in subsequent acts.  For the battle scene we have the aforementioned three-tier structure.  The prop for the scene where the lovers read from Shakespeare is a large book with pages that turn.  Also, at some point Francesca has in her hands a downed bi-plane, my guess would be to signify the disaster that is enfolding.  At the beginning there are a couple of scantily dressed ladies, perhaps to emphasize that in Dante’s book Francesca is condemned to hell for carnal pleasure.

The singing was generally okay.  It was weaker than what we heard in Zurich, but this is to be expected as La Scala is a much larger hall (2000 vs 1200 seats.)  To the extent I understood what was going on, the mood was consistent.  The only weak voice among the principals was Marcelo Puente as Paolo.  A few of the “minor” cast members did very well.  I hadn’t heard of any of the singers, evidently Jose-Siri is an up and comer in the opera world.  Fabio Luisi was the chief conductor of the Met for a few years, and we have heard him several times before.  I didn’t realize that he conducted with so much energy, and the orchestra seemed to respond well.

The "Catapult" scene with cannons.  Photo taken when singers came out for acknowledgement after Act 1.

Curtain call (video) at the conclusion of the performance.  Notice the spears coming out of the statue, and the plane held in her left hand.  Her right hand is holding a book.

I am writing this a couple of days later, and in a couple of hours I will be seeing Aida.  My hope is that the opera staple will help improve my general impression of this Opera house.

Opernhaus Zurich – Massenet’s Werther. May 10, 2018.

Hauptbuhne Opernhaus, Zurich.  Parquet Left (Seat 10-11, CHF 75).

Story.  See previous post.

Lorenzo Viotti – conductor.  Werther – Piotr Beczala, Charlotte – Anaik Morel, Sophie – Melissa Petit, Albert – Andrei Bondarenko, Le Baili – Cheyne Davidson, Schmidt – Martin Zysset, Johann – Yuriy Tsiple, Brahlmann – Stanislav Vorobyov, Kathchen – Soyoung Lee.

Other artists: Children’s Chorus of Opera Zurich.

Program for Werther.

This was the second of our five operas.  It appears both the Zurich and the Vienna State Opera companies designated some of the performances for the season as “discount events.”  When I first looked into this opera (around January) I couldn’t get the link for tickets to respond.  Around April 10 that link worked, and seats that cost over CHF 200 for other performances cost only CHF 75 for this one.  Our seats in Row 10 in the Orchestra section felt even more “intimate” than last night’s performance.

Again, the singers put in excellent performances.  I saw Beczala only one time as Rodolfo in Luisa Miller, earlier this season, and was very impressed with his singing.  In the smaller auditorium he sounded even better.  All other singers were new to me, and they again did very well.  As Charlotte, Morel conveyed how she was torn between duty and love in a sympathetic manner.  Petit as Sophie was innocent, not aware of the issues that were consuming the other characters.  There were about six children in the Bailiff’s family, and they nailed the songs they sang at the beginning of the opera.  Albert, Charlotte fiancé and later husband, was portrayed well by Bondarenko. All the other voices came through clearly, in no small part due to the volume of the auditorium, no doubt.  I can understand why some singers prefer these smaller European opera houses: they can get through to the audience much easier.  That the smaller halls are easier on the voices is supported by the shorter intermissions (they lasted about 25 minutes today and last night.)

We saw this opera at the Met with Jonas Kaufman as Werther and Sophie Koch as Charlotte.  From what I remember of the opera, the emotion built up slowly and didn’t become frantic until the last act.  Here things for Werther unraveled very quickly as soon as he found out Charlotte was engaged.  As a result, the emotional levels were very high for most of the opera, which, in my opinion, was difficult to sustain.  It was indeed to Beczala’s credit that he delivered a moving performance of “Pourquoi me reveiller” with an admirable dynamic range.

If I had a low opinion of the set for last night’s opera, tonight’s simply left me scratching my head.  For all the sets and scenes the same basic layout of a room was used.  All the sides, the roof, and the floor were built from ash-like (faux?) wood.  Different doors open and close as the room was repurposed for different acts.  There were several instances where extras were left frozen (i.e., not moving) while the singer(s) carried on.  There was a scene where several old-looking people (as far as I could tell, they were old) were put on stage, and one old couple was in the background during the death scene.  I have no idea why it was necessary to use these actors, perhaps to describe the love between Charlotte and Werther would last a long time?  That death did not diminish that love?  No matter what reason I could give, it didn’t work.  One child was in a wheelchair.

I just read through my writeup of the Met Werther, which we saw in 2014.  I was quite critical of that performance, but pointed out how I liked the cleverly designed sets, and that Kaufman and Koch were good.  I didn’t have to read the review to remember I didn’t like the death scene, probably muttering to myself “please die already” as the duet dragged on.  Today’s Werther found enough energy to stand up to do the singing, which made the scene actually quite bearable, and enjoyable to the extent death scenes can be enjoyed.  For the background (seen through the open windows and doors) stars and the earth were projected as background, again puzzling.

Even without the better death scene, I would have rated tonight’s performance better than the Met one.  The passage of time probably eroded some of the negativity I associated with the Met performance.

Oh, and there was this clock on the wall.  It would speed up a few hours to denote evening progressing into night, and the clock case served as the gun storage cabinet.  Not as puzzling as the clock last night, but still somewhat so.  It just occurred to me: the Swiss are known for their timepieces, so they don’t need much reason to put in a time piece of some kind.

Curtain Call.  This room is the set for all the acts.  Notice the old couple (3rd and 4th from left).  The young conductor is flanked by Morel and Bezcala.

After the curtain call, some person came on stage and said a lot of things in German, the gist of which was both the conductor Viotti and the tenor Beczala won recent awards in London as "artists of the year."  Viotti looked very young (born in 1990) and this was his debut series at the Zurich opera house.  And it appears Beczala built his reputation at the Zurich Opera.

It was around 5 pm when we got out of the Opera House.  The Yangs and we went and had a quick dinner at Nordsee in the main train station.

Opernhaus Zurich – Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda. May 9, 2018.

Hauptbuhne (Mainstage) Opernhaus, Zurich, Switzerland.  Parkettgalerie rechts (Seat 4-18, CHF 95).

Story.  See previous post.

Enrique Mazzola – Conductor; Elisabetta I – Serena Farnocchia, Maria Stuarda – Diana Damrau, Roberto, Graf von Leicester – Pavol Breslik, Giorgio Talbot – Nicolas Teste, Lord Guglielmo Cecil – Andrzej Filonczyk, Anna Kennedy – Hamida Kristoffersen.

There is no available English programs.  These are screenshots about the program from the Opera House's website.

The Yangs and we are on a 3-city 5-opera trip, we left Newark yesterday at 6:30 pm and arrived at Zurich this morning.  We managed a nap in the afternoon, so were all in good shape for the evening.

We are going to another one tomorrow, so I just wanted to jot down some thoughts I have.

The opera building, with its black roof and white walls, sits on the East Bank of the Limmat River.  It is surprisingly small, seating about 1200 (per Wikipedia), and there are so many columns at our level that many seats have a blocked or claustrophobic view of the stage.  The orchestra pit is small, so was the size of the orchestra for tonight – two double basses, for instance.  Our seat in the last row (of 4) have an okay view, but the surtitles are projected high above the action.  All four of us agreed it was an advantage that we were not tall and speak English (not German, as those lines were projected above the English).

Anne took this panoramic view of the Opera House.

On the other hand, the small auditorium made the experience intimate (my word) or chamber-music-like (Chungshu’s).  All the singers did well.  While Farnocchia’s voice may not be as refined as Damrau’s, she acquitted herself well when she led off the entire opera with a rather long scene, basically giving the audience an introduction to the story.  Damrau made exquisite use of her ability to hold the crowd with her soft pleas, and brought back memories of her as Queen of the Night when she cursed out Elizabeth.  The choir as Mary’s supporters sang sadly as they lamented the fate that was to befall Mary. The orchestra enhanced the mood appropriately, from hope to hatred, from fear to resignation.

Curtain call, with Mazzola taking a bow.  The saying in the back translates to "May he ashamed who thinks badly of it," not sure I understand its relationship to the opera.

The staging was puzzling to me.  Take the costumes, for instance.  Many dresses were traditional, but the men simply wore suits and ties, for the most part.  The forest where Mary and Elizabeth had their encounter was a small patch of grass with some bushes moved in for the purpose.  The backdrop is a curved wall (prison perhaps) that was sometimes covered by a curtain.  Elizabeth’s throne sits on a sideways horse, which she also rode to the “forest.”  For a scene there were these “skeletons” (people with masks on) that initially hid behind a long sofa. To top it all of, for the last scene there was a wall clock that moved, but wasn’t set to the right time.  That, together with Cecil’s black costume and his multiple “attempts” to kill Mary, reminded me of Father Time in the La Traviata we saw a few years ago.

When a lady with red hair (with orange hues) appeared as the curtain drew open, I thought she was Mary (a Scot, after all).  When she then showed up with simply long red hair, I was puzzled as she was clearly singing the role of Elizabeth.  Then Damrau came out with blonde hair, and I was sure she sang Mary.  To prepare for her execution, Elizabeth’s hair was cut.  She did took off her black dress to reveal a red dress.  As to the execution, the lights went out as Cecil was lowering an axe on her.

[Note added 5/10: One effect I admired was the use of spotlights to cast shadows of a few people onto the background.  It added a certain sense of doom, and it was certainly interesting to decide whose shadows were being projected at any given time.  Also, the Program Book - in German - is available on line in its entirety.  Browsing through it I was reminded how ridiculous the hunt scene looked, with people wearing antlers to act the role of game.]

This was a great start to our trip.  We had great weather, the singing was great, and the story was simple enough for our tired bodies and mind.

New Jersey Symphony – Dima Slobodeniouk, conductor; Nin Feng, violin. May 5, 2018.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC, Newark, NJ.  Orchestra (Seat Q101, $15).

Program

Isola (2007) by Fagerlund (b 1972).

Violin Concerto in E Minor, Op. 64 (1844, rev. 1845) by Mendelssohn (1809-1847).

Symphony No. 5 in E-flat Major, Op. 82 (1915, rev. 1916, 1919) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

One of my reactions to yesterday’s New York Phil concert was that it was a “pops” concert with a serious composition wedged in.  For tonight, the reaction was quite the opposite, two serious compositions sandwiching in a showpiece.

Sebastian Fagerlund is a young Finnish composer who has built quite a reputation for himself, such as being the composer-in-residence of the Royal Concertgeouw Orchestra last season.  This composition is inspired by Seili Island of Finland.  It is beautiful – rugged rocky beautiful, per the conductor – but has a dark history as a leper colony in the middle ages where lepers were sent to fend for themselves and presumably die, and as the location for a mental hospital until 1962.  The music is supposed to reflect this dichotomy.  The program notes calls this a tone poem, but the conductor insists there is no program to the music except for the inspiration.

Fagerlund’s music is characterized as “a fusion of post-impressionism and modernism, with a dash of minimalism.  He often juxtaposes meditative, trance-like stasis with jagged rhythms.” Whenever I see “minimalism” I think – rightly or wrongly – Philip Glass.  In Fagerlund’s case, there were many occasions where different simple not-quite tonal motif of a few notes were repeated again and again, and other “stuff” evolved and revolved around these motifs.  I heard a lot of darkness, not much beauty (well, perhaps in Finland beauty and sunny are different things.)  The music ended softly, if I recall correctly.

This was our first encounter with Ning Feng, a young Chinese violinist who now lives in Germany.  The Mendelssohn violin concerto is a tricky one to perform, not so much for its difficulty – and it is difficult enough – but more for how one interprets it.  Feng pulled off the technical part, and I was particularly impressed by how he managed to keep the bow glued to the strings, but I am not sure the performance was enjoyable beyond that.  Per his website, he plays on a Stradivarius, but some passages didn’t quite come through.  In his defense, he was playing against a large orchestra.

Ning Feng after performing Mendelssohn's Violin Concerto.

When he returned to the stage, he lamented to the audience the limited solo violin repertoire, and asked the audience whether it should be Bach or Paganini.  He ended up playing the latter’s Caprice No. 24.  While impressive, it wasn’t as clean as one could imagine, and I certainly won’t call it perfect, as I called Hadelich’s encore a few years ago.

I am only somewhat familiar with Sibelius’s Symphony No. 5, so I appreciated the description I found in the Program Notes.  The music is challenging to pull off.  As examples: for the strings, the use of tremolos makes it difficult to sound precise; the horns have to hit many ascending and descending intervals (4ths, 5ths, and 6ths) in the last movement, and it is difficult to get the notes perfectly righ – and no safety in numbers!  Going over my blog, I have heard this a few times already, and each time I said/implied that I needed to hear this some more to fully appreciate it.  Alas, tonight is no exception.

Slobodeniouk after Sibelius's Symphony No. 5.

We stopped by Hoboken before heading out to Newark.  Dinner was at Wok to Walk, a small fast-food restaurants a couple of blocks from NJPAC.

New York Philharmonic – Manfred Honeck conductor; Nikolaj Znaider, violin. May 4, 2018.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat O113, $84.)

Program

Rusalka Fantasy (1900; arr. 2015) by Dvorak (1841-1904); arr. M. Honeck, orch. T. Ille.

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D minor, Op. 47 (1902-04; rev. 1905) by Sibelius (1865-1957).

Selections from The Sleeping Beauty (1888-89) by Tchaikovsky (1840-93); arr. M. Honeck.

The Program contains a listing of the selections from The Sleeping Beauty.  The selected numbers are not in the order they appear in the full ballet score.

If asked which is the best Sibelius violin concerto performance I have heard, more often than not I would answer “the current one.”  We have heard this performed live many times, including by Znaider, and I feel there is a lot of truth to that sentiment.  Today was no exception.  There is so much in this violin concerto that I always enjoy listening to it.  First is the sentiment (which may nor may not be how Sibelius felt when he wrote this), and then there is what the violinist is asked to do – very difficult techniques in passages where even small mistakes will stand out, and the folk melody (real or made up) of the last movement that can easily induce foot-stomping; they all make any credible performance of this piece an enjoyable occasion.  For today I even identified somewhat with Sibelius.  A few days ago I saw a live on-line broadcast of the Cornell Symphony, and thought back on my best days as a violin player – I was not that good – and how becoming a good violinist was beyond my grasp.

The performance was not without its problems, even though they were minor ones.  Znaider certainly had no problem with the virtuosity required, and he also did great musically; however, the phrase I came away with was “sloppy.”  One could put up all kinds of excuses, such as he played it the prior evening, but it was what it was.  We heard him a couple of times before, I was effusive about his 2007 performance (same concerto), but wondered if he had trouble with concentration when he played Beethoven’s concerto in 2016.  The Guarneri violin was well-suited to the concerto, and being quite close to the stage, we had no volume issues.

Znaider was unusually aggressive today, often infringing on the conductor and the concertmaster’s “personal space.”  I do wonder if Huang should have excused himself, at least from the concerto; evidently a gentleman, and a hard-working one at that.  Anne also noticed that Huang probably had a cold as he was coughing, downing lozenges, and brought along a large pile of tissues.  I suppose one reason was he had solo parts in the Rusalka and The Sleeping Beauty, and it may be difficult to find a last-minute substitute.

Honeck congratulating Znaider after the Sibelius violin concerto.

The concerto was framed by two works arranged by Honeck.  We saw Rusalka a few years back, and the “Silver Moon” aria was played by a solo violin, in this case Frank Huang, who also played a solo in “The Sleeping Beauty.”  Both arrangements were crowd pleasers, especially The Sleeping Beauty, with its many familiar tunes.

The concert led with Honeck's digested version of Rusalka.

However, I walked away thinking this is a concert worthy of The New York Pops Orchestra (which, it turns out, celebrated its 35^th anniversary, and Anne’s brother went to see it.)  While the selection of music was enjoyable, the use of intellect was not necessary, or at least optional; even the Sibelius can be heard just as a show piece.  I am all for “let’s not pretend to be sophisticated,” but we call some orchestra “pops” for a good reason.

Due to scheduling issues, we ended up exchanging the date for this concert, twice, and end up attending this 11 am performance.  We stayed at Hoboken last night, so it wasn’t that much of a rush this morning.

Metropolitan Opera – Massenet’s Cendrillon. May 3, 2018.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat B11, $110.50).

Story.  The familiar Cinderella story with a couple of variations.  One is there was only a minimal ballroom scene, another is Cinderella leaves *after* the clock strikes midnight, the third was her father is willing to stand up to the step-mother at the end.  A dark element not usually found in the story is that Cinderella thinks of suicide in Act III. She wanders into the forest, and meets Prince Charming with the help of the Fairy Godmother.  There were no special effects where a pumpkin turns into a coach, for instance.  There are so many retellings of the 1697 work by Charles Perrault, itself based on earlier fairy tales.

Program.  This is the first season of Cendrillon ever at the Met.

Conductor – Betrand de Billy.  Pandolfe – Laurent Naouri, Madame de la Haltiere – Stephanie Blythe, Noemie – Ying Fang, Dorothee – Maya Lahyani, Lucette, known as Cendrillon – Joyce DiDonato, The Fairy Godmother – Kathleen Kim, Prince Charming – Alice Coote.

We saw Rossini’s telling of the Cinderella story about 4 years ago, also with DiDonato singing the lead role.  It was one of the two live operas I we have seen with an encore, by Javier Camerena as the Prince.  So I went not knowing if I would end up comparing the two operas, or simply seeing it without any preconceived notions.

Which may not be possible, as I have always enjoyed DiDonato’s singing.  Tonight I wasn’t disappointed, she sang very well, and did an admirable job as a young woman.  There were a couple of arias (such as “reste au foyer, petit grillon” lamenting a little cricket would never become a butterfly) that were delivered perfectly.  The rest of the cast also put in stellar performances.  Alice Coote as Prince Charming sang her lines clearly – the best in the multiple occasions I have seen her.  Kathleen Kim as the Fairy Godmother added a touch of humor to the story, and made good use of her strong soprano voice.  Stephanie Blythe is always dependable, and as the evil stepmother elicited more chuckle than disgust, her flipping to Cinderella’s side is one example.  Similarly commendable performances were put in by Naouri as the (mostly) hapless father, and Ying Fang and Maya Lahyani as the clueless stepsisters.

Amid the all-out praise, there is this issue of one star outshining all others.  And we have such a case here.  I am not suggesting they shouldn’t have cast DiDonato, but am musing how much better the production with be if the other principals in the story can match her capabilities and charisma.

I am not sure how I should characterize the sets.  The basic backdrop are three walls “in perspective,” for lack of a better term.  With my limited knowledge of French, it seems the story is written on the walls.  The center opens in layers to expand the useable stage area, and all the other props are either wheeled in (such as the forest scene) or brought in (lamps).  The props work in the sense they don’t distract from the singing, although I had to spend some mental energy to try to understand them.  Equally puzzling were the occasions where multiple Cinderellas and princes were on stage.  If the idea is to express confusion, it succeeded beautifully in my case.  The lookalikes were so good that I couldn’t tell which ones were the real Cinderella or Prince.

The "fundamental set."  With the help of Google Translate: Once upon a time there was a gentleman who married for a second time ...

One thing I admire was all the different costumes worn by the ladies competing for the Prince.  And some characters came on the scene for only a short time – show up and try on the shoe.

The music was pleasant on the first hearing.  The Playbill explains why there are no singable melodies: “… not a score from which discrete arias can be extracted.  Instead, Massenet uses a flexible vocal style, varying between recitative, lyrical song, and sometime simply the spoken word.”  Perhaps, but someone should at least give that a try.

Another curious fact is this is the first season ever of Cendrillon at the Met: we saw the sixth performance.  The Playbill talks about three other Massenet operas (Thais, Werther, and Manon, which incidentally we have seen), and he wrote many others.  I can understand taste in music changes, but not ever, over 120 or so years?

The opera has three major roles sung by mezzo-sopranos.  In this case, the voices of DiDonato and Coote bear such similarity that I had trouble at times telling them apart.  And there were quite a few scenes where they sang together.  It was easier with Blythe as the stepmother.

All said and done, this was one of the more enjoyable operas this season. And this was the opera this season, for us.

Curtain Call.  Each of the red dresses worn by the women in the back was different.

The New York Times review has a lot of good things to say about the opera, describing the music as Massenet “doing his best impression of Baroque dances, conjuring an ethereal world out of Mendelssohn for the realm of the fairies, whipping duetting lover to Wagnerian heights.”  The reviewer does have some criticism of the singing: DiDonato’s “tone has taken on a noticeable beat … pitch grows uncertain …,” Coote’s voice is “too blunt to expand over the score’s long lines, and her crucial duets … trouble spots for both singers to negotiate rather than luxuriate in,” and even Blythe was “uneven in intonation.”

We went to Hoboken in the afternoon and took public transport to Lincoln Center from there.  It was after midnight that we got back to Hoboken where we stayed the night – there would be a New York Philharmonic concert at 11 am the next day.

Cornell Symphony Orchestra – Chris Younghoon Kim, conductor. April 29, 2018.

Baily Hall, Cornell University, Ithaca, New York.

Program – Tchaikovsky

Marche Slave, Op. 31

Symphony No. 6

No, I didn’t go to Ithaca for this concert.  I was sent a link for their live broadcast, which I sat through.

I played in this orchestra in the 1970s, the conductor was Karel Husa.  It was an enjoyable experience, so it was good to see these young people participating.

A few changes are quite evident after 40-odd years.

First, Bailey Hall seems to have been renovated.  The last time I was there was when the Chinese (or Asian, I forget) Student Association put up a play that my son wrote, titled “A Sister’s Love.”  That would be the late 90s, and the hall was basically the same then.

Second, I remember both the concertmaster and principal second violin were older people (when you are eighteen even thirty year olds appear old.)  Today’s orchestra were mostly young people, including the two lead violin positions.  However, I suspect some are graduate students, as those “old folks” might well have been.

Screen grab.  Evidently 67 people were watching this on line at this time.

I recall only myself and a woman from Singapore were the only Asians in the orchestra.  That woman eventually married my high school (and college) classmate, and is now a professor at a prestigious Ivy League school.  Now both women and Asians are well represented.

Before the music began Kim asked the senior to stand up to be acknowledged by the audience.