Budapest Festival Orchestra. Ivan Fischer, conductor; Renaud Capucon, violin. February 23, 2020.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat Q3, $66).

Program: All-Dvorak (1841-1904)

Legend, Op. 59, No. 10 (1881).

Misto kiekani (“Evening blessing”), from Four Choruses (1876-78).

Slavonic Dance, Op. 46, No. 7 (1878).

Violin Concerto in A minor (1879).

Symphony No. 8 in G major (1889).

When Lincoln Center Great Performers released $55 seats, I bought tickets to five concerts.  (They also charge $11 in fees per ticket.)  Three Sunday concerts for myself (as Anne has commitments Sunday afternoons) and two Monday concerts for the two of us.  I have always enjoyed listening to orchestras other than the NY Phil and NJSO, so look forward to hearing these orchestras in the coming months.

I have some familiarity with both the orchestra and the conductor, having heard them several times in the past (though a review of this blog returns far fewer entries than I expected).  It is much to Fischer’s credit that he has built a reputation for the organization, starting from scratch in 1983.

It was overall a delightful program, and brought out the “best” in Dvorak.  That despite the many shortcomings of the performances.

“Legend” was initially written for piano four-hands, today we heard the last of them (I assume they were orchestrated by Dvorak himself).  These pieces were modeled after Brahms’s Hungarian Dances for piano four-hands, and evidently Brahms, born about 8 years earlier, had a lot of interaction with and influence over Dvorak.  Among other things, Brahms introduced Dvorak to his publisher, and they both solicited Joachim David when they wrote their violin concertos.

In any case, the Legend was a nice and lyrical piece.  The Slavonic Dance started with a lively oboe line, and did sound like the “jump dance” that it was supposed to be.  In between the two orchestral pieces, all the orchestra members stood up, joined by a few more people, and sang the “Evening Blessing” song, a cappella.  Unexpected, and appreciated: who needs a chorus when your musicians can sing so well.

The orchestra can also double as a chorus.  "Evening Blessing" was a delightful song.

I was rather looking forward to the Dvorak violin concerto, a lovely but for reasons unknown to me not a very popular work.  It asks a lot from the soloist and the orchestra, and this afternoon they turned in a mixed performance.  The adjective that occurred to me the most was “unrefined.”  The orchestra was loud, and sounded like a collection of individual instruments.  I was seated close to the stage, so had no trouble picking out the violin.  Compared to what I heard from Bell a couple of days prior, the violin also sounded coarse.  Capucon’s violin is a Guarneri de Gesu, which belonged to Issac Stern.  It sounded more brilliant than I expected of a Guarneri, but lacked the silkiness I expected of one.  He also had intonation problems throughout.  I am sure he could be up to the task, but today it felt like he could barely hold on to the more challenging passages.  The three movements of the concerto are Allegro ma non troppo; Adagio ma non troppo; and Finale: Allegro giocoso, ma non troppo.  Dvorak says “ma no troppo” a lot.  Capucon also performed a lyrical tune as an encore, I wasn't impressed.

 Renaud Capucon is a French violinist who performs on the Guarneri del Gesu "Panette" (1737).

The same “abandon” served the orchestra well in the Eighth Symphony.  The first movement was one of the more exciting renditions I have heard.  The picture painted wasn’t an idyllic stroll in the meadows, but rather someone chomping through the forest, which was an interesting take on the work.  However, the same abandon didn’t work as well for the later movements, although I did jot down in my notes “like the third movement.”  The four movements are Allegro con brio, Adagio, Allegretto grazioso, and Allegro ma non troppo.

Ivan Fischer and the Budapest Festival Orchestra after performing the Dvorak Symphony.

I left soon after the concert concluded to try to catch the 5:07 pm (which I didn’t make), and they were doing an encore (with the orchestra singing again) as I exited the building.

Tonight (I am typing this the day after) Anne and I will go to the second BFO concert, an all-Mahler program.

I barely made the South Amboy to NY Penn train (going up the stairs as the train pulled up), and walked to and back from Lincoln Center from NY Penn.  A nice day to be on the streets of New York.

New York Philharmonic – Jaap van Zweden, conductor; Renee Fleming, soprano. February 22, 2020.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat X103, $82.50).

Program

When the World as You’ve Known It Doesn’t Exist (2019) by Reid (b. 1983).

Dark Harbor XXXV and Dark Harbor XI, from The Strand Settings (2012-13) by Hillborg (b. 1954).

Virus (2011) and All Is Full of Love (1997) by Bjork (b. 1965); orch. H. Ek (2016).

Symphony No. 4 in E-flat major, Romantic (1874/1878-80, 1886; ed. R. Haas, 1936) by Bruckner (1824-96).

Singers for Reid’s composition: Eliza Bagg, Martha Cluver, Esteli Gomez.

This is the case of a well-known name helping to sell tickets.  I included this concert on my CYO subscription on the strength of her name.  That I had no idea how Bjork would figure in a classical concert did not deter me from doing so.

We can start with those two pieces, since I don’t have a lot to say about them.  It was a large orchestra, and Fleming used a microphone.  Evidently her practice is to use one for Broadway or pop songs (which she also did at the NJ State Theater in a concert I attended).  At the beginning she mentioned that concert programs were decided up to two years in advance, and no one had any idea that the COVID-19 virus would wreak such havoc on China (especially Wuhan) and she would send her love.  The song titles describe the songs rather well: one was about how a virus attaches itself to a person, and the other is about unrequited love.  There is enough ambiguity in the lyrics that one could interpret them in a variety of ways, good, bad, or indifferent.  All I can say after hearing these two songs: I don’t understand why Bjork is so famous.  Which may say more about more closed mind than her appeal to her many fans.  Interesting fact: Bjork has a last name Guomundsdottir, reflecting the name of her father in the Icelandic tradition.

Mark Strand (1934-2014) was a Pulitzer-winning poet.  His work is often described as “dark,” which is also a word used often by him.  Anders Hillborg took four of his poems from Strand’s Dark Harbor – a 45-part poem preceded by an introduction - as the basis for his composition “The Strand Settings.”  The poems suggest “a journey from uncertainty to safe harbor, perhaps a consolation of advancing age.”  The songs were composed on commission from Carnegie Hall and the New York Philharmonic, and dedicated to Renee Fleming, who was involved with the composer in the process.  Kisses are the subject of XXXV, and XI connotes lovers finding safe haven from the elements.

Here Renee Fleming sang without the aid of a microphone against the large orchestra.  I sometimes find her voice a bit on the harsh side, which actually was quite suited to the bleak and bitter tone of the lyrics.  Those were the phrases I jotted down as she sang, not quite how the Program Notes describes the songs.

Renee Fleming after her performance.

Ellen Reid, also a Pulitzer Prize winner, is the second Project 19 composer we encountered.  She describes her composition as not directly about the 19^th Amendment, but about freely presenting her artistic voice.  She also described what the work meant to her, and that she hopes each listener has their own journey.  One would think the previous statement makes sense only when a listener understands what she has to say; or perhaps I am very limited in how I appreciate music.

Readers of this blog know I have trouble with fancy or clever titles, in this case I have no idea how the description Reid provides in the Playbill would lead one to think about one’s world not existing.  Neither does the music.  It does contain some of the “clouds of sound, exaggerated contrasts, large drop-offs, and surprise.”  And there were three women’s voices added to the mix.  I do wonder, given Reid’s connection to film music, if she ever imagined a movie unfolding as the music is played.

Composer Ellen Reid and the three vocalists for her work.

One wonders why van Zweden picked a long Bruckner symphony as the second half of the program.  While quite a few people left after the first part of the program, I am of the opinion that the Bruckner was by itself worth the price of admission.  The four movements are: (i) Moving not too fast; (ii) Andante quasi Allegretto; (iii) Scherzo and Trio: Moving – Not too fast, on no account dragging; and (iv) Finale: Moving, but not too fast.  Bruckner evidently used a mix of Italian and German in his movement markings.  The first movement was particularly enjoyable, the many repeats of the themes (as Bruckner is wont to do) did not feel boring at all.

This was supposedly one of the few Bruckner compositions with a “program” behind it, and the composer did offer up some short descriptions of the four movements.  The first describes a morning at a medieval city, second is a rustic love scene, the scherzo a hunt, the trio a dance melody, and the finale a folk festival.  I could make a case that’s how the music sounded like, with the exception that I wouldn’t have imagined that’s what a folk festival looked like.

The Bruckner symphony produced great sound effects with just a "traditional" complement of orchestral instruments.

We noticed the Assistant Principal of NJSO’s cello section on stage.  She is still on the NJSO roster, an extra?  Or greener pasture?

We got to the city at around 6 pm, so had time to have a proper dinner at a neighborhood restaurant.  There was no detour on the way back.

Academy of St. Martin in the Fields – Joshua Bell, director and violin. February 21, 2020.

Prudential Hall at NJPAC.  Tier 1 (Seat C5, $78.15).

Program

Coriolan Overture, Op. 62 by Beethoven (1770-1827).

Violin Concerto No. 1 in D major, Op.6 by Paganini (1782-1840).

Symphony No. 4 in E minor, Op. 98 by Brahms (1833-1897).

One of the more noticeable aspects was the auditorium was well occupied for this concert, compared especially to most of the NJSO concerts I have attended.  Tier 1 was about half occupied, and the part of the orchestra section I could see from our seat was also quite full.  Something like “a prophet is not welcome at home,” or there are too many NJSO concerts every season.

The “advertisement” for the concert had a placeholder called “The Opening Work,” turns out to be the Coriolan Overture.  It was clearly Beethoven (duh) but isn’t nearly as popular as some of his Lenore overtures.  The Wiki entry for this work describes the general outline of the play for which  the overture was composed: Coriolan wanted to invade Rome but was dissuaded by his mother, he ends up killing himself.  In hindsight the music made a lot more sense.  I couldn’t have prepared for it since I didn’t know what it was until I got to the concert hall.

After performance of Beethoven's Coriolan Overture.

Paganini’s works for the violin need no introduction; they are show pieces for the soloist.  I listened to it, a lot, when I was much younger, so still remembered quite a bit of it.  Suffice it to say it asks a lot from the violinist: double stopes (some with 10ths), double harmonics, double glissandos, great speed, left-hand pizzicatos, large interval jumps, and notes that reach the end of the finger board.  Most of that I got from looking at the score, I am not sure Bell did all of them.  What he did was amazing.  There were sloppy bits here or there, unavoidable in a live performance, but generally the exquisite sound he made while tackling all the technical challenges was just impressive.  And it was against a rather large orchestra with quite a few brass instruments in it.  Thrown in the midst are nice breaks of very hummable melodies that highlight the lyrical aspects of the instrument.

The cadenza that Bell wrote sounded like the highlight reel of the movement.  I imagine he knows which parts he does well and concentrated on those.

After the Paganini Violin Concerto.  Notice the additional brass instruments in the back.

The Wiki entry to the piece says the key is actually E-flat major, and that the solo violin is written in D major, with the instrument tuned a semi-tone higher (scordatura) so it is both easier to play (Wiki says it’s impossible) and to sound more brilliant.  Supposedly on of Paganini’s tricks that he was very secretive about.

The concert concluded with Brahms’s Symphony No. 4.  While it is not as thrilling as the Paganini concerto, it was a heavy intellectual piece that required concentration to appreciate.  From the applause the audience gave at the end of the third movement, I was not the only one who felt a little tired.  I was quite familiar with the first three movements, but the fourth sounded unfamiliar.  One reason I give is my attention span got used up by then (chuckle).

The concert concluded at around 10 pm with the Brahms Symphony.  A rather intense program.

It is difficult not to compare this Orchestra with the Orpheus or the Australian Chamber Orchestra (which we saw on TV).  It is larger than the Orpheus, but unlike the ACO, the director (in this case Bell) also played in the Brahms Symphony.  It is clear that Bell had only the violin part in front of him, so either he has a great memory (possible) or he only cues in the critical parts (likely).  My question is does the orchestra need him to play or direct?  Would there be less muddling of the sound if he directs?

In any case, a great evening of music.  Even traffic to Newark was heavy, NJPAC was still easier to get to than Lincoln Center.  Naturally for the next few days we have concerts in Lincoln Center every day (3 concerts and an opera).

Metropolitan Opera. Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro. February 19, 2020.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat J27, $25).

Story.  Figaro and Susanna are servants of Count and Countess Almaviva.  The Count has designs on Susanna, and Marcellina has loaned money to Figaro which compells for him to marry her in case of default.  Cherubino is a young man enamored with every woman he meets.  The story is basically a romantic comedy: Figaro and Susanna foil the Count’s plans; the Countess wins back the Count; Marcellina discovers she is the mother of Figaro.

Conductor – Cornelius Meister.  Figaro – Adam Plachetka, Susanna – Hanna-Elisabeth Muller, Cherubino – Marianne Crebassa, Count Almaviva – Etienne Dupuis, Countess Almaviva – Amanda Woodbury, Dr. Bartolo – Maurizio Muraro, Marcellina – MaryAnn McCormick.

For this season this was my first successful bid for Rush Tickets, in 3 or 4 tries.  Either my typing has slowed considerably, or the opera is getting more popular.  Probably a combination of both factors, as I notice better attendance at the performances I have been to this season.  The current set was introduced in the 2014-15 season, and tonight was our first encounter with it.  I still have a vague recollection of what the set we saw.

The other somewhat surprising fact is that this was the first time we saw the opera since I started this blog; I thought I was familiar with both the story and the music; again, probably because the story – at least the basics – is easy to get, and many of the tunes are immensely singable, and popular.  The Overture opens many orchestral concerts, attested by the many entries in this blog.

The curtain was already up before the performance began.  The set is best described as three ornately-designed cylinders.  For the first two Acts the large cylinders in the middle sits on a platform which rotates to show (i) the servants’ bedroom; (ii) the Countess’s bedroom; and (iii) a banquet hall.  For Act IV one of the bedrooms was converted into a garden.  The two small cylinders are mainly thoroughfares people walk through to get from one place to another.  There seemed to be a lot of attention to details, but a simple concept nonetheless.  Fine with me.

Servants were milling around in the Countess's bedroom before Act III began.  The "three cylinders" of the set.

The Playbill describes the setting as “A manor house near Seville, the 1930s.”  The opera premiered in 1786, so the setting was moved forward 150 years or so.  Other than the costumes, things probably didn’t change all that much.  The purist would say the style of the furniture is also different, my argument was there was no attempt to generate a realistic setting anyway – otherwise something would have been done about these cylinders.  One problem though: the feudal society where elites “owned” other people didn’t exist in the 1930s (after many revolutions, no doubt), so the class distinction feel a little contrived.

One very pleasant surprise: I found the story quite funny.  I tend to groan more often than chuckle when it comes to opera buffa.  While the details of the story may not withstand close scrutiny, the general outline is easy enough to follow.  Class distinction today is not as pronounced today as it was (even the 1930s), so I probably missed all the subtleties the story makes fun of that aspect.  Credit must be given to the artists who generally acted well.  As a side remark, they all looked credible in their roles.  The names are all new to me, with the exception of Maurizio Muraro (who played Dr. Bartolo), whom I saw in 2012 in Paris (I suspect the connection was probably confusion on my part).  Crebassa as Cherubino was a standout; her gestures and movements added a lot to the comedic aspects of the story.

A consequence of concentrating on acting maybe the neglect of the singing.  We had never sit this close to the stage before, but we found the singing a bit weak.  My first thought was to attribute to the acoustics at our seat, which I “confirmed” after listening to Figaro’s “Non piu andrai” (didn’t hear any sarcasm as suggested in Playbill).  However, when Cherubino stood still and did “Voi che sapete” I realized that acoustics wasn’t the issue at all; it was well-delivered probably because she wasn’t wandering around.  Most singers eventually acquitted himself/herself; the one exception is Plachetka as Figaro, he generally came across as weak.

From left: Basilio (lawyer), Curzio (?), Bartolo, Marcellina, Countess (dressed as Susanna), Figaro, Maestro Meister, Susanna (dressed as Countess), Count, Cherubino, Barbarina, and Antonio (gardener).  The garden scene.

The music is quite complex.  Mozart put in many ensemble singing ranging from simple duets to complex tunes with nine (or eleven, I couldn’t tell) singers.  And there are some tunes that evolve from simple ideas to complex emotions.

Driving into New York during the winter time is easy, and we had no trouble finding parking tonight.  The entrance to the Turnpike coming out of Lincoln Tunnel was closed, and we circled around a few times before we finally got our orientation straight.

New York Philharmonic. Jaap van Zweden, conductor; Janine Jansen, violin. February 13, 2020.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat HH103, $43).

Program

Concerto in D major for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 77 (1878-79) by Brahms (1833-97).

Stride (2019) by Leon (b. 1943).

Der Rosenkavalier Suite (1909-10/1944) by Strauss (1864-1949).

On the front of the Playbill is the line “Project 19: 19 commissions to celebrate the centennial of the 19^th Amendment.”  That amendment being women’s right to vote, and it happened only 100 years ago.  Over the course of two years these commissioned work will be premiered at the Philharmonic.

For tonight it was the work by Tania Leon, who came to the US as a refugee from Cuba in 1967.  Van Zweden had a short interview with her about this work.  The work was inspired by Susan B. Anthony, whom Leon learned a lot about as she researched her life for this work.  Paraphrasing Leon’s words, Anthony would not take “no” for an answer, and kept pushing and moving forward; hence the title for the piece.  She also mentioned that women of color couldn’t vote until 1965, and her piece also had something to say about that.

Leon also came out after the orchestra performed "Stride."  Tonight was the world premiere of her work.

Typing this blog entry a couple of days later, I have no real recollection of how the piece sounded, and if it appealed to me at all.  I do remember remarking to myself that nothing close to “stride” would come to mind if I listened to this without the benefit of the Playbill, and that it was still a mystery why the music represented stride with the benefit.  I don’t think it’s unfair to characterize it as random movement; perhaps there was an underlying theme of progress, if there was, I didn’t get it.  The interesting aspect about the piece is the instruments used, including the djembe (tuned drum originally from West Africa), and the sizzle cymbal; the first time I heard about these instruments.

The evening started with Brahms’s violin concerto.  Jansen is a familiar name to NY Philharmonic audiences, but this was the first time I heard her perform.  She was an exciting performer, very bold in her approach; she had to yank the broken hairs off her bow on multiple occasions.  Nonetheless, tonight’s performance sounded more like a practice session, there was not a great deal of excitement in how she approached it.  And I was surprised at the instances of intonation problems; the misses weren’t by much, but enough to be noticeable.

She performed a short piece as an encore.

 Janine Jansen after performing Brahms's violin concerto.

My last two encounters with this concerto was with Jing Wang, HK Phil’s concertmaster (van Zweden conducting), and Gil Shaham (NJ Symphony, Xian Zhang conducting).  I called Shaham’s performance sound but business-like, and really enjoyed how Wang did it.  I am not sure tonight’s rose to the level of either soloist.  For those keeping track, we are talking about van Zweden conducting the HK Phil, and Zhang the NJSO, here.  One would have bet tonight’s should have “won,” hands down.

Having seen the opera and listened to the suite multiple times, I have some familiarity with both the story and the music of Der Rosenklavalier.  It is romance with an element of grotesqueness (the Baron, who eventually “got the memo.”)  But overall I expected elegance in the music.  I was disappointed that most of the music came across as crude, that would include the “silver rose” theme of descending notes, and the waltzes.  A new take on the music, but not necessarily an improved one.  The other issue I noticed was how the different orchestra sections seemed to be working independently of one another, to the point of incoherence.

Interesting fact: the suite was by an identified arranger, but was published with Strauss's approval.

A large orchestra was used for both the Leon and Strauss pieces.

It is fair for the reader to conclude that I didn’t think this was one of the Philharmonic’s better concerts.  A large orchestra (complete with many extras) was used for both the Leon and the Strauss piece.

Anne had to teach a class so we gave up on her ticket.  For the second half I could move one seat over and didn’t have to look over the heads of the people sitting in front of me.  I took the train in, the 6 pm train arrived a bit late, so I barely made it to the beginning of the concert.

Metropolitan Opera – Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess. February 12, 2020.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat C107, $104.50).

Story.  As stated in the Playbill, the setting for the story is the slightly fictionalized versions of real places in and around Charleston, South Carolina.  The protagonist Porgy is a disabled beggar.  Bess, the other, is with Crown, an alcoholic and a drug user.  Crown gets into a fight with Robbins, kills him, and flees.  Sportin’ Life offers to take Bess to New York, but she refuses.  Porgy offers Bess shelter and protection, she accepts. About a month later, the group go on a church picnic on Kittiwah Island, Porgy stays in Catfish Row. Crown is hiding out on the island and confronts Bess, who willingly stays behind for a couple of days.  When Bess returns to Porgy, she is ill.  When Crown returns and tries to take Bess, Porgy kills him.  While the police take custody of Porgy, Sportin’ Life gets Bess to take drugs again, and the two head to New York.  A week later, Porgy is released from jail and returns.  Upon learning that Bess has gone to New York, he starts his trip up north to find her.

Conductor – David Robertson.  Clara – Janai Brugger, Sportin’ Life – Chauncey Packer, Porgy – Eric Owens, Crown – Alfred Walker, Bess – Angel Blue.

I was very happy when I got tickets for this performance.  We had originally bought them for a different date, but couldn’t make them because of travel plans.  Just as I was resigned that we wouldn’t be able to see this opera, the Met announced they would put on additional performances, which I managed to get tickets for.  Given how popular the opera appeared to be, and that I could get tickets to this performance, I was certainly looking forward to it.

Bottom line, however, was that it didn’t meet my (admittedly) high expectations.  I will get to the specifics as I write this blog entry.

First, the story is unnecessarily complicated.  I don’t know what the original story is like, but I get the impression that the lyricists were not willing to edit out a lot of the peripheries.  Even the compelling story of Clara and Jake, who both drowned in the thunderstorm.  One could argue there are artistic differences, but I would much rather see how the protagonists’ characters are developed so I can understand them better.  Given where I sat, I had trouble telling them apart anyway; that had to be the case for most of the audience.

There is a lot of talk about culture appropriation, and if I am not mistaken, the Met recruited many African-Americans for the roles.  The only whites in the cast were the police and the coroner, and not portrayed in a friendly way; they also had only spoken lines.  I have no problem with that.  My only question is why was the line drawn there; not a dig on Robertson, weren’t there African-American conductors that could lead the performance?  And surely we don’t expect operas such as La Boheme to have an all-European (I may even say all-White) cast, or Turandot to have an all-Chinese cast.  Sometime it is difficult to tell the difference between principle and pandering.

There was a lot of applause when the curtain first rose to show the set.  I don’t quite know how to describe the structure, other than it was to represent different living quarters, with Porgy’s on stage left.  A simplified set was used for one of the scenes, and a stage rotation showed a boat by the sea.  There was this beach scene (where the picnic was held) that was used for about 10 minutes at the end of the first half.  Interestingly there was no attempt to show the ocean other than projections on the screen in between scenes.

As to the music, I must admit other than the few famous tunes, I knew very little about the opera.  Given how singable those tunes are, I was surprised at how a lot of the music sounded, even taking into account my overall exposure to his music (American in Paris, Rhapsody in Blue come readily to mind).

As to the singing, there were a few bright spots, but I was generally disappointed.  It didn’t help that one of the first tunes was Summer Time.  I am sure for most people the version they are familiar with is the one by Ella Fitzgerald.  I was surprised at how high the pitch was.  And that Brugger was no Fitzgerald.  Still an enjoyable rendition.  That song is the best-known one from the opera, and to a certain extent also was the best part of the performance.  (To be fair, Blue also sang it towards the end, and was quite good.)

In general the women singers did quite well.  While there voices didn’t carry well into the balcony, I could at least hear them, sometimes over a very large orchestra.

Owens has seen a lot of “action” lately.  I remember him as Alberich in the Ring, where he did poorly in my judgment; Anne remembers him from Messiah, where he did well.  Today he was a disappointment.  I could barely hear his voice, and what I could hear wasn’t particularly compelling.  A good example was the tune “I got plenty o nuttin’,” which can be funny as the voice of Porgy blends seamlessly with the banjo.  Not tonight, they singer and the instrumentalist kept stepping on each other.  I heard at intermission criticisms of his acting skills, indeed he didn’t make Porgy into as sympathetic a character as he could be.

This set is used during most of the performance; it sits on a rotating platform.  To the right of Robertson are Crown and Porgy, to his left Bess and Sportin' Life.  Palumbo is in the second row.  There is another chorus master.

The premiere of the opera (which Gershwin subsequently called a Folk Opera) was in a Broadway Theater.  To me two characteristics stand out: size of the orchestra, and use of microphones.  In terms of the singing, I can’t go beyond the observation that the techniques are very different.  (Some Broadway singer tried to explain that to me many years ago, as a non-singer I didn’t understand.)  Today’s orchestra was huge, and Robertson seemed to be able to keep them under control.  He just finished his Sydney Symphony tenure, I wonder what he is up to next.

I often wonder if much of the bruhaha behind some of these “must see” shows are audience members trying to out-sophisticate one another, or that I am the wannabe who doesn’t understand anything more sophisticated than [take your pick.]  Some while back I decided I should trust my sense of pitch; perhaps it is time to say I can trust my judgment on good art.

We drove up, and found plentiful parking on the streets.  NYC is slow during the winter months.

Opera Theater Rugters – Offenbach’s Les Contes d’Hoffman. February 7, 2020.

Elizabeth Ross Johnson Theater, NBPAC, New Brunswick.  Orchestra Main (Last row, center, $17).

Story.  See previous post.  There are some variations from the “story” I wrote on the Met performance I saw in 2017.  Most notable is that in tonight’s performance all the events happen during Hoffmann’s last hour on earth, and the Muse kills him at the end.  The Met production refers to Stella, and that the three women in the tales represent different aspects of her.  Yet another is that both the Muse and her mortal form Nicklausse appear on stage on multiple occasions.

Mark Shapiro – conductor.  Woo Young Yoon, Marie Ferguson, Marija Bosnar, Paul La Rosa, Tingting Zhuang, Xiao Li, Motomi Tanaka, John Heiserman, Colin Levin, Aidan Gent, Carl Muhler, Will Berman.  (See photo for their roles.)

I came across this opera when I was looking at tickets for A Christmas Carol late last year.  Tickets were not on sale then, but I marked their availability on my calendar.  To my surprise, the tickets cost $10 each, with an additional $7 fee, and it was to be open seating.  Not too many people were at this performance, the main auditorium was about 40% full (I’m probably generous,) and I don’t think anyone was in the balcony.  I also got the feeling many people were comp’d their tickets.

The production is presented by Rutgers University’s Mason Gross School of the Arts, and in the pit was the Rutgers Symphony Orchestra.  I didn’t know what to expect from this (mostly) university students, and as far as I could tell, Yoon (Hoffmann) is a professional.  At the end of the performance, I was glad I went, and impressed with many aspects of how the performance was put together.

First a bit about the story.  I am sure much editing took place to make the opera a bit less than 2 ½ hours.  Perhaps as a result some aspects of the original story (assuming the Met version was more complete) were modified or deleted altogether.  I mentioned some of my observations above.  The net effect is the vignettes were not as coherent as they could be.  Two years ago we saw this production in Berlin, without subtitles, and it made more sense than tonight’s production.

“What set?” is probably the best way to describe the staging.  We have three layers lined by lightbubls (see photo, I can’t quite describe it) and they served as the set for all the acts.  A table and a stand are moved on and off stage as necessary, and lights come down from the ceiling.  The most elaborate was the umbrellas that come down from the ceiling.  Chorus members sit on the stage every now and then.  Sometimes for a good reason, sometimes for inscrutable reasons.  And there is this briefcase carried by the muse.

Some other takes that were a bit different.  Olympia wasn’t rewound by a key as her energied drained away, she popped pills.  Hoffmann died of a drug overdose administered by the muse.

The singers did quite well.  As far as I could tell from their short bios, Hoffman was played by a (young) professional Korean singer, and the rest of the cast were students at Rutgers.  Hoffmann’s voice dominated, although most other people held their own.  The orchestra did well.  Initially their sound was in good balance, but dominated (most of) the vocals as the performance went on.  I don’t know if the orchestra went wild, or the vocals couldn’t sustain their initial volume.  It must be said this is a small auditorium, and one doesn’t have to have a very strong voice to be heard.

Front left is Maestro Shapiro.  The three (Asian) ladies behind him are: Olympia, Giulietta and Antonia.  Hoffmann in the colorful jacket.

Thinking back on my college days when I prepared for a Broadway show and played in the orchestra, I must say I am impressed how this performance came together.  It would be nice if more people showed up to support these young people who poured a lot of energy into this.