Royal Opera House – Giordano’s Andrea Chenier. May 28, 2019.

Main Stage, Royal Opera House, Convent Garden.  Amphitheatre Level 5 (Seat F60, GBP 92).

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor – Daniel Oren.  Andrea Chenier – Roberto Alagna, Maddalena di Coigny – Sondra Radvanovsky, Carlo Gerard – Dimitri Platnias, Bersi – Christin Rice, Madelon – Elena Zilio,The Incredible – Carlo Bosi.

 The large atrium of the Opera House.  Last time I was here they had a long intermission (45 min) where people sat down and ate real meals.  Tonight's intermission was only 30 minutes, but still quite a bit of eating going on.

This is the tenth and last concert of this trip.

Our seats would be in an area comparable to the balcony area of the Met.  They are a bit narrow, and there are no armrests.  Good thing Anne had an empty seat next to her, so she and I could lean a little bit and get out of our neighbors’ way.  We did have a great view of the stage and the orchestra, though.

This was simply a very enjoyable performance of a dark opera.  One of our complaints about the five German operas we saw on this trip was their harder-than-necessary edges.  Both sexual and physical violence was gratuitously graphic.  The most graphic scene in Andrea Chenier would be Chenier and Maddalena going to the guillotine together.  In the Met production we saw a silhouette of the instrument projected onto the screen.  For tonight we saw only the cart that was to bring the two to the scaffold – and it was sufficient to express the emotions and horrors of the scene.  I could only guess how this would be done in a German opera house – a screen coming down with a couple of heads thrown onto the stage, as they did in Nabucco?

The setting was realistic, and quite elaborate.  The Reign of Terror was a horrific page in France’s history, and certainly there would be a lot of opportunity to portray violence if one is so inclined.  I am glad the production team didn’t see the necessity of doing that.

The singing?  Simply splendid, as the Brits would say.  Of course, the cast is international, and I have seen Oren, Radvanovsky and Alagna before.  As good as Alagna is, Radvanovsky was the one who brought the house down – who can compete with the aria “La mamma morta …” of Philadelphia fireside fame. When the aria started, I attempted to compare tonight’s rendition with Callas’s iconic track, but by the second line I was completely caught up in the despair expressed by Maddalena.

We saw Oren conducting Aida at La Scala last year. He was very energetic and elicited a great performance.  Of course one of the memorable moments was when a single cello (joined later by a small group of instruments) accompanied “La mamma morta.”  There were several other arias with great melodies, but none as memorable.

Curtain Call.  To the left of Maddalena is Gerard, to the right are the conductor Oren and Chenier.

A few other remarks.  Gerard was a much more sympathetic figure than I remembered.  While his jealousy of Chenier set the whole tragedy in motion, he turned out to be quite honorable in that he didn’t take advantage of Maddalena, and he put himself out there trying to save Chenier.  The really sinister character was The Invincible, from how he went spied on people to how he got Gerard to accuse Chenier.  While the story is mostly fiction, based on the historical character Chenier, the Reign of Terror was real enough: over 16,000 official sentences were passed down in the span of one year.  The performance of Madelon was a bit disappointing, she had already lost her son and one grandson to the revolution, and was ready to offer up her last grandson.  It could have been a very compelling scene, but tonight that part of the plot felt insignificant.

Someone asked me which opera I liked best, and my reply – without hesitation – was this one.  The auditorium has a capacity of about 2250, larger than all the others I encountered, but its not so cavernous that someone in the back may have trouble hearing the music.

Recital – Hyungi Lee, Marimba. May 27, 2019.

St. Martin in the Fields, London.  (Nave, GBP 3.5 donation).

Program

Three Moves for Marimba III. Slide by Paul Lansky.

Ameline by Eric Sammut.

Toccata by Anna Ignatowicz.

Dream of the Cherry Blossoms by Keiko Abe (arr. Hyung Lee).

Goldberg Variations: Aria, Variations 21 and 22; Aria by J. S. Bach.

Arirang (traditional Korean melody).

Charon by Jonathan Anderson.

 St. Martin in the Fields Church is right across from Trafalgar Square.

 The pulpit.

The organ.

The Program.  She added another Bach variation, and played her own adaptation of Arirang.

Hyungi Lee is a young British-Korean, born in Seoul, came to the UK at age 12, and has spent 10 years here. (That would make her 22.)  Her training as a percussionist has been in the UK.

She made short remarks about each of the work she was going to perform, Anna Ignatowicz wrote her piece shortly before she died of cancer and the piece reflected her emotions at that time.  Charon is the ferryman who takes people across the River Styx on their way to hell: it has its haunting moments.

The marimba is a rather large instrument, Li is quite small, so sometimes she had to leap to get to the right notes. The sound is bell-like, the pipes below the keys make it quite resonant.  Two mallets are held in each hand, and one or both can strike the keys, which are arranged like those of a piano.  It seems the interval is controlled both by how the player position her wrists as well as changing the angle between them.  I don’t know how difficult that is, but imagine it’s like most things: practice makes perfect.

 Lee at end of recital.

Quite a few people walked up to ask Lee questions about the instrument.

Frankly 40 minutes of marimba solo is about all I can take, despite the delightful sound and the competent musician.

St. Martin in the Fields traces its Christian heritage back to possibly AD 410.  It’s location near Trafalgar Squares makes it one of the most famous churches in the UK.  I don’t know much about where in the Christian spectrum it falls, but it’s also well known for its social justice (“Church of the Ever Open Door”) and musical programs.

Today about 200 people attended the recital.

Oper Leipzig – Verdi’s Rigoletto. May 25, 2019.

Opernhaus Saal.  Parkett rechts (Seat R4-P17, 73 euros).

Story.  Will provide.

Conductor – Christoph Gedscheld.  Gilda – Bianca Tognocchi, Giovanna – Dorothee Schlemm-Gal, Maddalena – Kathrin Goring, Herzog – Kyungho Kim, Rigoletto – Devid Cecconi, Graf von Monterone – Jurgen Kurth; Sparafucile – Randall Jakobsh.

 New banner announcing tonight's opera.

 Another evening, another dark opera.  Whether it is coincidence that all the operas we have seen so far this trip, or that’s what Germans do, we are not sure.  For the record, the next opera we will see is at Covent Garden, and it’s another dark one, Andrea Chenier.

Photo taken from last row of hall.  Not a bad seat in the house.

Deep orchestra pit.

Before we get to how dark things get, let’s first say a few good things.

First and foremost, the music was simply ravishing.  Today everything seemed to click: the orchestra produced dramatic music, all the principal singers could sing and act, and I got a new appreciation of Verdi’s music.

Both last night’s and tonight’s operas called for several low voices, and for tonight the principal, Cecconi as Rigoletto, was well-suited and well-prepared for the role.  He was equally strong in the low and the high registers, and expressed credibly the different emotions of his character: disdain, self-doubt, fear, and love of his daughter.  Tognocchi as Gilda did her lines superbly, working emotions from wistful to fearful.  I was surprised to see Kim again, today as Herzog (the Duke).  While his acting skills may not be at the level of his peers, his voice was a match for theirs, singing exquisitely and with abandon.

What I most appreciate about Verdi in this opera is how he made simple melodies memorable.  “Gaultier Malde … Caro nome che il mio cor” has as its main building block a 7-note descending scale, with some embellishment built in, but sung properly conveys such a sense of joy and longing that one could not but hold out hope for the singer.  “La donna e mobile” on the other hand conveys the cavalier attitude of the Duke towards women.  There are some heavy duty songs that transfix the audience.  Verdi also put in some ensemble vocal music with simple harmonies that are extremely pleasing to the ear.

Of the operas I have seen so far in this trip, today’s sets worked the best.  They were simple, but at least they reassured you where things were happening.  For the last scene where a river is called for, there is a grate that presumably would allow a body to be dumped into a sewer.  Since no body gets dumped anyway, it was okay.

While the original concept Verdi had meant no disrespect for women, in today’s “me too” atmosphere the subject has to be treated with care and sensitivity.  Here I think the production failed.  When the curtain was raised, we saw a dead woman lying on a table.  That turned out to be Monterone’s daughter; she was seduced by the Duke, but here she died from the violence of the assault.  At the end of the scene there was a gang rape (everyone was fully dressed) which was again violence towards women.

And then there were other acts of gratuitous violence.  Giovanna, Gilda’s nurse, was bribed in this production to let the courtiers kidnay Gilda.  Which was bad enough, but then she was murdered by one of the kidnappers, completely unnecessary.  Instead of Monterone being taken away to prison, tonight he was stabbed to death, with blood stains clearly visible on his white coat.

On thing that worked, though, was how Gilda was killed by Sparafucile.  I never understood why Sparafucile would simply kill the first person that came along instead of meeting his customer’s actual demand.  I thought there was an assassin’s code.  Here one could interpret the actions as Gilda pretending to be a man approaching Maddalena and thus mistaken for the Duke.

Curtain Call.  Second from left: Monterone, Sparafucile, the Duke, Conductor Gedsheld, Rigoletto, Gilda, Maddelena.  The other four are probably courtiers.  Not sure why Giovanna didn't shoe.

While the Duke isn’t the title role, it had a lot of strenuous singing.  I was surprised that Kim did this tonight after the substantial role of Ismaele yesterday.  I noticed other names that appear in the same program too.  Kim did so well that I wouldn’t be surprised if he is Alfredo in La Traviata tomorrow (he is not).

Since we knew that there would be no English surtitles, we read up on the synopsis before the show.  It helped very much.  The story was a bit convoluted to write down (as I attempt above), the action is pretty straightforward.  It was good to be able to match the words and action with what I thought was happening.

We had something light at the train station (Leipzig Hbf) before the performance, and after we got back to the hotel ate what we bought earlier from Backwerk.

Motette in der Thomaskirche. May 25, 2019.

St. Thomas Church, Leipzig, Germany.  Choir (2 euros).

Program

Johnann Sebastian Bach: Kantate “Bisher habt ihr nichts gebeten in meinem Namen” BWV 87.

Artists

Leitung: Thomaskantor Gotthod Schwarz; Thomasorganist Ullrich Bohme; Klaudia Zeiner (Alt), Floria Sievers (Tenor), Dirk Schmidt (Bass); Thomaschor Leipzig; Gewandhausorchester Leipzig.

 St. Thomas Church probably got its start at this location in 1212, per the Church's brochure.

Today's program and the full list of artists.  Not pictured is the hymn "Vater unser im Himmelreich" sung by the congregation and the choir.

Anyone with any knowledge of Johann Sebastian Bach would know that he worked as the Cantor at St. Thomas Church in Leipzig from 1723 to 1750 (he died that year).  He was also the cantor at St. Nicholas Church, less than a 10-minute walk away, but St. Thomas is much better known; there is even a Bach statue outside.

Every Friday at 6 pm and Saturday at 3 pm St. Thomas Church puts out a concert.  For today it was a motet.  So we expected a small group of singers for this concert.  The program turned out to be much more expansive.  Their website showed one Cantata, but in actuality the program contained many more pieces, starting with an organ piece “Vater unser im Himmelreich” choral and variations by Mendelssohn.  I have included photos of the program in this blog entry, what is missing is the same hymn with alternate verses sung by the congregation (that would include me) and the choir.  The melody of this hymn is from 1396, the words by Martin Luther.  (There is a Wikipedia entry on the title.)

We were seated in the second row to the right of this picture.  There is some debate whether Bach is interred here.

The musicians before the program began.  Perhaps in keeping with this being a service, there was no applause, they just stood up and walked off when the program was done.

Our seats in the choir section gave us a good view of Bach’s tomb, but we had to strain to see the musicians at the other end of the hall.  The church was filled to capacity as many people visit Leipzig for its music, especially Bach’s.  The price was 2 euros, at the door, no advanced tickets.  The quality of the music (perhaps more my appreciation of it) was uneven: I really enjoyed the first piece, but couldn’t quite appreciate the last one (the “advertised” cantata.)  In Bach time the musicians were all full-time employees whose job was to provide music for church service; I suspect that is not the case today.  The orchestra members are from the Gewandhaus Orchestra, and they carry a heavy concert program at their regular venue.  (Some of them are on tour in China at the moment.)

The concert felt more like a service.  There was a sermon given by the Rev. Britta Taddiken, and she also offered a prayer and gave the blessing.  Perhaps this was how a service was structured in Bach’s time?

The program lasted about 1:15 hours.  We were thinking of going to St. Nicholas Church for an Organ Concert and decided to skip as it would mean a rushed afternoon.

Oper Leipzig – Verdi’s Nabucco. May 24, 2019.

Opernhaus Saal.  Parkett rechts (Seat R4-P17, 73 euros).

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor – Matthias Foremny.  Abigaille – Mlada Khudoley, Fenena – Sandra Maxheimer, Anna – Stefania Abbondi, Nabucco – Dario Solari, Oberpriester des Baal – Jean-Baptiste Mouret, Abdallo – Sven Hjorleifsson, Zaccaria – Randall Jakobsh, Ismaele – Kyungho Kim

 Leipzig Opera.  Center panel displays the opera being shown today.

 View from our seat in the fourth row.  The pit is quite deep, I saw the conductor only occasionally.

 Looking back from our row.  25 rows in the main area, 40 seats each row.

Our experience with Leipzig Opera started with two unexpected things.  First was how small the auditorium is, it’s basically two levels, orchestra level with perhaps 1000 seats (Anne said 25 rows of 40), and balcony with 250.  It is a good-sized building.  Second was there were no English surtitles; and I thought I checked to make sure all three venues had English surtitles.

So we started with a huge problem.  While the story is simple, intertwining the fate of Jews and the two daughters of Nebuchanezzar, it does not develop in a straightforward manner.  So for the first half we sat there trying to guess what was happening.  The little German I remember from college was of little help.  During the intermission we read up on the Wikipedia synopsis, and managed to have a better grasp of what was happening at any given moment.  (The story line was also more straightforward.)

I don’t remember having encountered any of the cast before, so I didn’t know what to expect.  Our seats in the four row, close to the center, provided both a great vantage and had excellent acoustics.  I thought Khudoley’s start was a bit unsteady, but she got much better as the performance progressed, conveying well the emotions of Abigaille – the most complex character.  The Hebrew Chorus had the chorus members start in the back, making them a bit difficult to hear.  When they eventually moved to the front of the stage, it became very enjoyable.  The song certainly sounded simple; it’s Verdi’s genius that made this such a moving and uplifting song.

The production places the time (my guess) at around the time Saxony was strong, say around 1780 (?).  The uniforms the soldiers wore were certainly consistent with that period.  For me this is a problem: the relatively modern setting reminds me of recent history.  Rifles were often aimed at the crowd, which made me very comfortable.  Not so much because they were guns, but because we were in Germany, and the guns were pointed at the Hebrews. The sets are so simple that they are close to inexplicable.  There is this temporary platform where the singers would go up and down.  There were sets (and screens) that looked like auditoriums, and in a couple of scenes one may think of (again) play-within-play as there were these two women hanging around in the background, observing and smoking.

The most inexplicable part was saved for the end.  Without the benefit of the English surtitles, some of the following is my guess.  The story as Verdi intended it had the condemned pardoned by a recovered Nabucco, who became the ruler again.  Here Fenena was placed on a block (think Delaroche’s Executive of Lady Jane Grey), a screen with a blood stain fell down (quite effective if they meant it, I must admit,) and Nabucco picked up a severed head.  Meanwhile, the screen was raised, and we saw Fenena standing there with the other freed prisoners.  I assume the surtitles didn’t say a ghost was singing after that point.  Equally inexplicable was the fact that Nabucco remained sick and Abdallo (?) picked up the crown and put it on himself.  Gratuitous violence?  Trying to be deep? 

Curtain Call.  From Left: Anna, Ismaele, Zaccaria, Abigaille, Conductor Foremny, Nabucco, Fenena, Abdallo, Priest.

Anne and I were both surprised by how edgy the productions we saw in Berlin and Dresden were.  Today’s also fell into that category.

Leipzig opera is putting out this Verdi weekend.  We have tickets for tomorrow’s Rigoletto, but will have left town Sunday when they show La Traviata. I wonder if Rigoletto will be made much more violent than it is, and we will find out tomorrow.  It will have been interesting to see how they put a hard edge on La Traviata.

Overall, though, this was a good experience.  That is in large part due to the excellent singing.  The conductor had great control throughout.  He wasn’t for much applause after each aria, which helped to move the action along.

Leipzig weather has been great.  We enjoyed the short walk back to the hotel.

Semperoper Dresden. Mozart’s Don Giovanni. May 22, 2019.

Semperoper Dresden.  Parkett Links (Seat R13-P10, 94 euros).

Story.  Don Giovanni boasts a long list of romantic conquests and encounters, this opera talks about a few of them.  It begins with Giovanni trying to assault/seduce Donna Anna but is repelled/rebuffed.  Donna Anna’s father – il Commendatore – fights with Giovanni and is killed by him.  Part of the story is how Donna Anna and her fiancée Don Ottavio try to find Giovanni to both avenge the attack on Anna and the murder of il Commendatore.  Donna Elvira was abandoned by Giovanni and thus dogs him and often points out to others the kind of person Giovanni is.  Zerlina is about to be married to Masetto, but is tempted by Giovanni.  In all this Leporello is Giovanni’s accomplice, although he often considers leaving his master.  The story then takes a supernatural turn with the appearance of the ghost of il Commendatore.  Giovanni doesn’t think much of the incident but instead asks the man to dinner.  The ghost appears at Giovanni’s house, offers him a chance to repent, and disappears after Giovanni refuses.  A group of devils appears and carries Giovanni away.

Conductor – Omer Meir Wellber; Don Giovanni – Ildebrando D’Arcangelo, Il Commendatore – Alexandros Stavrakakis, Donna Anna – Elena Gorshnova, Don Ottavio – Joseph Dennis, Donna Elvira – Iulia Maria Dan, Leporello – Evan Hughes, Masetto – Martin-Jan Nijhof, Zerlina – Anke Vondung.

 Screen grab from the video about this opera in the entrance foyer of Semperoper.  This is Act 1 Scene 1.

On occasion, a modern stage setting works, this opera is one of them.  No doubt in large part due to the timelessness of the story.

When the curtain rose, we saw a living room, with a large window, and with several women sitting in a sofa, probably representing Don Giovanni’s conquests.  For Scene 2 this set was raised to reveal a courtyard where the rest of Act 1 is performed.  Some props were moved around to change the scenery ranging from a courtyard to a ballroom.  A similar setup was used for Act 2, beginning with drunken guests in Don Giovanni’s house, and ending with his dining room.

Most of the opera is a comedy that one can accept, perhaps with a groan here or there for a bad twist. It ended seriously enough with Giovanni being carried off, probably to hell since it was bright red where he was going.

Our seats were again near the stage, so we had no problem with the acoustics.  I do not know Mozart’s operas well enough to know if they all have this much recitative.  I enjoyed all the singing, even though some of the fast runs might be a bit sloppy; Mozart required a lot from the singers, and they met the challenge.

The singers also brought out their characters in a credible way, simplifying a bit: Giovanni with his devil-may-care attitude, Leporello as the toady with somewhat of a conscience, Anna as bent of avenging her father, Ottavio as the somewhat reluctant support of his wife, Elvira as the spurned lover who still cares about Giovanni, Zerlina as the bride who wonders if she can do better, and Masetto as the jealous and hapless groom.

The orchestra performed well under the excellent direction of the (apparently) young Wellber, who conducted with great enthusiasm and precision.

Curtain Call.  From left: Masetto, Maestro Wellber, Donna Elvira, Don Giovanni, Leporello, Donna Anna, Don Octavio, Zerlina, and Il Commendatore.  (As far as I remember.)

The two familiar tunes are still there, and I thought I heard another familiar one at the end.  Indeed I did, but it was from Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, he put that in so Leporello could complain there was too much Mozart.  I sometimes feel the same, but not tonight.

Attendance was great today.  There were some applauses after some arias, but in general German audiences seem to watch all operas as German operas – don’t interrupt the story.

We had a late lunch, so I didn’t eat anything before the performance.  It was raining when we got out, so we didn’t bother to look for food – I had an apple and some nuts in the room after we got back to the hotel.

Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia - Roma - Anthony Pappano, conductor. May 21, 2019.

Frauenkirche Dresden.  Empore D (Seat R3-P45, 75 euros).

Program

Symphony No. 6 in A minor by Mahler.

When I was looking for concert listings for Dresden during the three days we would be here, I found out about this festival.  Some “big names” will be here, including Yuja Wang, Yo-Yo Ma, Joshua Bell, Yefim Bronfman, and several world class orchestras.

The name of this Rome-based orchestra, established by Papal bull in the 1500s - is a bit on the long side, and I just found out Cecilia is the patron saint of musicians.  This would be the first time I get to hear them.

The Dresden bombing towards the end of the second world war destroyed the church, and under East German rule it laid in ruins as a memorial to the war. The rebuilding started after the reunification of the country, and re-consecrated on October 30, 2005.  Outside was a statue of Martin Luther, the only indication I could find that this is a Lutheran church.  The dome is supposed to be 

The altar area of the church was converted into the orchestra area, from where we sat (second balcony would be my description) we had a clear view of how the musicians were organized.

 A statue of Martin Luther stands outside of Frauenkirche.

A panoramic shot of the inside from our seat.  We couldn't see the dome, one of the largest in the world.

All this should provide an interesting concert experience.  On top of that, it was a delightful concert competently delivered by this orchestra.  We also had fun observing how the musicians went about their business, how the woodwinds would be raised for some passages, and how the percussionists moved from one station to the other, and – of course – how the special drum was struck.

There were two strikes for tonight’s concert, and the order of the inner movements was scherzo – andante.  Again, a discussion better reserved for the specialists.  My opinion is go with all three hammer blows, it takes a lot of logistics to get the drum to the stage.  On the other hand, superstition can make people do different things.  There is a music stand with (I'm quite sure) music in front of this special instrument.  One would think for two notes they can memorize when it is supposed to strike ...

Again, I couldn’t quite hear “tragic” in this symphony.  One could argue this or that theme is that of a funeral march, or that certain passages are sad, and that the quiet ending is a final surrender after tragedy strikes twice (or three times), but that is not necessary.  I may have said this before, in this Symphony Mahler wanders less and develops more.

The orchestra in general sounded great.  The few balance problems may be due to the acoustics of the hall.  The concertmaster’s solo lines were on the soft side, the flutes didn’t stand out as much, and the sound lingers a bit.  It is always interested to see the oboists being asked to play such long passages that their faces turn less, as they were on several occasions tonight.  (It was even more so at the Berlin Philharmonic concert.)

There were over 100 musicians in the performance.  The special drum and hammer can be seen in the back.

The concert started at 8:30 pm, and lasted till about 10 pm.

Semperoper Dresden. Puccini’s Tosca. May 20, 2019.

Semperoper Dresden.  Parkett Links (Seat R11-P10, 94 euros).

Story.  See previous blog.

Conductor – Stefano Ranzani.  Tosca – Hui He, Cavaradossi – Andeka Gorrotxategi, Scarpia – John Lundgren, Angelotti – Chao Deng.

 Inside the opera building.

I was made aware of this opera house by someone from my high school.  A search of the web indicated that Semper was the architect of the house first built in 1841, employing an eclectic combination of styles including Greek Corinthian, Baroque, and Renaissance.  It was destroyed by fire in 1869, and rebuilt in 1878 in Neo-Renaissance style.  This was largely destroyed by the Dresden bombing of 1945.  It re-opened 40 years later, with the outside almost exactly the same as before, but a modernized interior.

We traveled from Berlin to Dresden this morning, and seemed to have traveled back in time by many decides.  The backwaters feeling was further compounded by the blackened local sandstone which evidently was used quite extensively in the other impressive Theaterplatz.

The auditorium felt ornate, especially compared to what we just experienced in Deutsche Oper Berlin.  The detailed artwork all over are dedicated to various artists.

Our seats were again close to the stage, so we heard the voices very well.  I enjoyed the well-known arias, as well as some of the “dialog” in the opera.  The several motifs that are associated with the various characters were used repeatedly, to good effect.  He was a bit off in Vissi d’arte, although she still managed to get across the emotion quite well.  Gorrotxategi could have delivered a stronger “E lucevan le stelle.”  Instead of acceptance, I wanted more of “screaming at fate.”  Scarpia did well in that he probably made the audience hate him.  The orchestra – again not visible from where we sat – sounded great.

 End of Act 1 where the sinister singing of Scarpia sounded particularly evil against the pious singing of a church service.

From left are: Conductor Ranzani, Tosca, Caravadossi, Scarpia Boy soprano, ...

The sets were also on the simple end of the spectrum.  For the first two acts (church, and Scarpia’s dining room) three panels are used, for the last act the middle panel was taken away.  Accessories are added as appropriate.  These panels probably helped to reflect the sound of the singers.

It was a crisp evening (around 60F).  We stopped by Nordsee to grab a quick dinner before heading to the performance.

Deutsche Oper Berlin. Puccini’s Turnadot. May 18, 2019.

Deutsche Oper Berlin.  Parkett 1 (Seat R13-P23, 82 euros).

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor – John Fiore.  Turandot – Anna Simirnova, Calaf – Stefano La Colla, Liu – Meechot Marrero, Timur – Andrew Harris, Ping – Samuel Dale Johnson, Pang – Gideon Poppe, Pong – Michael Kim.

 Minimalist exterior of the Opera House.

 No chandeliers, no murals, simplicity defines the inside as well.

The walk from the train station was more interesting.

This was the first opera of this trip, and it was an opera staple, Turandot.

The Deutsche Oper Berlin first opened its doors in 1912, was destroyed during the second world war, and reopened with a newly design building in 1961.  The word to describe the outside design is “austere” and the inside is “practical.”  Which may not be all bad.  Another example would be Lincoln Center.  The auditorium seats 2000, which makes it rather large by German standards (La Scala seats also about 2000).  Our seats are in the center, close to the stage.  The acoustics are generally good.

The orchestra pit is deep, so we had no view of the conductor or the musicians during the performance.  During intermission I went up to a higher level to look at the set up, and a rather large orchestra was used.

The experience was mixed.  Let’s start with the good.  All the principals sang very well, Liu gentle and pleading; Calaf a bit insensitive,  but consumed by love; and Turandot quite severe.  The German audience probably isn’t much into applauding after each aria, it happened only once, after Liu delivered her haunting “Signore Ascolta.”  Calaf turned in an excellent Calaf in “Nessun dorma,” but there was no applause.  To make up for it, the applause at curtain call was very enthusiastic.

The costume is modern, but quite non-descript.  Most people are dressed up as Westerners, but one of the three “clowns” had a Chinese official dress on part of the time, the other sometime dressed up as a Turandot. 

Most “traditional productions” (I haven’t seen that many) have a severe-looking executioner wielding an axe at the beginning of the show.  What we got here was more like a comedy sketch, the victim pulled his coat above his head and ran around a bit before leaving the stage.  Liu has a skirt on, which was okay; but the light denim coat makes her look a bit ridiculous.  This most likely contributed to why the show seemed a comedy at the beginning.

The set was just a bit better than minimal.  There seemed to be this attempt to make the whole thing a play within a play.  We have several rows of folding chairs where the mob/chorus sat, with seat numbers painted on them.  In the back is a wall with a cutout up high, serving as the place where the officials sat.  For the third act the wall fell down (done after curtain, so for a couple of seconds the audience thought something went wrong.)

As the opera progressed, some surreal and disturbing elements crept in.  The “play within a play” aspect was done with some production people walking around the stage, but they more than direct, they herded and used their batons to keep people in line.  We are in Berlin, I am not sure it’s time to make references to its dark history yet.  After Liu committed suicide, her body (in effigy, no doubt) was hoisted up and remained hanging for quite a while, adding to the macabre feel of the production.  The most inexplicable thing was at the end Calaf and Turandot would knife Timur and the emperor, respectively, to death.

Curtain call in front of the set used for Act 3.  From left: emperor, Liu, Timur, Calaf, chorus master, conductor Fiore, Ping, Pang and Pong (the three not necessarily in order.)

In the on-line description of the story there is this “deep philosophical” discussion.  First, the annotator points out how inexplicable it was for Turandot and Calaf to come together, and that Liu sacrificed herself.  All good, I attribute that to the librettist not being able to put together a coherent story.  To me, one goes to Turandot for the music, not the story (for the first timer, some funny moments).  He (Jan Philipp Reemtsma) lost me when he then proceeded to talk about the connection between might and violence, and even proceeded to invent – as far as I know – the word “autotelian” which simply meant sadistic.  No one can deny his last sentence “Wherever spaces are created for the perpetration of autotelian violence, autotelian violence will be perpetrated.”  No kidding.

It took a lot of research for me to find out which is the most popular of the three or so opera houses in Berlin.  Berlin State Opera is in the former East Berlin, it has as Barenboim music director for life.  In a few days they will stage Macbeth with Placido Domingo in the lead role (read into this whatever you want, but still a big name).  It seats 1300 people. We walked by Komische Oper, you have to look for it to find it; photos of the interior show a more traditional opera theater.  It seems to put on less-known more modern operas.

Berlin Philharmoniker – Herbert Blomstedt, conductor; Yefim Bronfman, piano. May 17, 2019.

Grand Hall, The Philharmonie, Berlin.  Block B links (Seat Row 4 Platz 5, 91 euros).

Program

Concerto for Piano and Orchestra No. 2 in B flat major, op. 19 (ca. 1788-1801) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Symphony No. 2 in G minor, op. 34 (1911-1915) by Stenhammar (1871-1927).

Since I will be writing quite a few of these reviews during this trip, each needs to be short, or I will fall terribly behind, and probably can’t recall the specifics.

Berlin Philharmonic is of course one of the best-known orchestras in the world.  Their home is the Philharmonie, completed in 1963.  That was about the same time Lincoln Center was completed. On the outside Philharmonie looks a lot more interesting for those into that kind of architecture.  Per Wikipedia, the inside “vineyard-style” was the first of its kind, with audience seating surrounding the orchestra stage.  After all these years it still looks fresh.  Interestingly the organ pipes are not in the center but to the left of the orchestra.

 Outside the Grosser Saal, Berlin Philharmonie.

Inside of the hall during intermission.  Note the organ on the right side of the picture.

The acoustics were okay, but I thought it could sound a bit cleaner.  We could hear the musicians fine (even the violas), but the overall effect was a bit too muddled for me to give it a perfect score.

Bronfman dispatched the Beethoven piece competently.  This early (or earliest if you use when the concerto was started as a measure) work of Beethoven had passages that sounded very Mozartean, although it showed a lot of Beethoven’s use of contrasts.  For a moment (second movement I think) the orchestra was a bit sloppy, but otherwise it proved to be a worthy partner.

Bronfman acknowledging the orchestra, with Blomstedt looking on.

As the encore Bronfman played Liszt’s Liebestraum No. 3.

This was my first encounter with the music of the Swedish composer Wilhelm Stenhammar.  I do not need to feel too bad, Blomstedt himself conducted this piece for the first time three years ago, and he is a Swedish conductor.  As Blomstedt is quoted in the Berlin Philhamonic website, this piece is less Richard Strauss but more Bach and Beethoven.

The 45 minute piece has four movements: (1) Allegro energico; (2) Andante; (3) Scherzo: Allegro, ma non troppo presto; and (4) Finale: Sostenuto – Allegro vivace – Tranquillamente – Allegro ma non troppo.

How does it sound?  It does contain quite a few melodies, which I assume to be Swedish.  And, as advertised, the structure is very easy to follow.  So easy that I sometimes wondered: could the guy have put a bit of mystery into it?  There are many instances where a melody is passed from section to section, and stretches of music where many sections play in unison.  For instance, the main theme of the last movement is an 11-note line consists of notes in a minor fifth that kept re-emerging in different sections, with variations that fail to disguise.

The Berlin Philharmonic at the conclusion of the concert.  Half the bass section was cut out in this photo.

In searching for more information on the work, I come across this article from the San Francisco Symphony.  I quote from the notes: “The Second Symphony dates from what is known as Stenhammar’s late, third and final period, which begun around 1910. It aims at objectivity—or even austerity in its most beautiful form—and displays some truly clever and masterful writing (especially in the finale). Full of lush allusions to Swedish folk music and folk-dance rhythms (particularly in the first and third movements), this symphony brings together all the best qualities of this master Swedish composer. It is no wonder that the Second Symphony has become known as one of the most outstanding orchestral works in the Swedish repertory.”  The symphony was premiered at the SFO in February 2018.

On the other hand, the piece is complex enough that on a first listen it didn’t sound boring.  I am sure I can find other good things to say about it, but nothing comes to mind right now.  Blomstedt calls this “undoubtedly [Stenhammar’s] greatest work.

This was my first encounter with the orchestra, but both Blomstedt and Bronfman are staples at Lincoln Center.

We took Bus M85 to the concert hall.  They run every 20 minutes after 10 pm, so we had to wait a bit for the return.