Metropolitan Opera. Verdi’s La Traviata. March 9, 2020.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat C119, $104.50).

Story.  See previous post.

Conductor – Betrand de Billy.  Violetta – Lisette Oropesa; Baron Douphol – Dwayne Croft; Alfredo – Piero Pretti; Annina – Maria Zifchak; Germont – Luca Salsi.

When I did my CYO series a while ago, I reluctantly included this opera so we could have the required number of operas for the subscription.  My original plan was to switch to an opera we might actually want to see, thanks to the generous exchange policies of the Met.  Nothing wrong with the opera, except my perceived familiarity with it.  A search on this blog returned only two entries: once by NYCO, once by the Met.  And the Met one was in 2013.

I am glad I never got around to exchanging the tickets (although we did change the date due to a conflict), as this was a really enjoyable opera – to the extent a tragedy can be enjoyed.

First a few words about the production.  Tonight’s production could not be more different from the one we saw in 2013.  In the latter sparse and black were the main ideas.  The current production (debuted last season) was as ornate as could be.  The chorus members were all dressed in fancy clothes, no two alike as far as I could tell.  There were many colors, but not the bright satin pastel one would expect, but a “matte” (for lack of a better adjective) sheen.  For the ballet scene the dancers were also dressed more traditionally.  Interestingly, the same “furniture” was used in all 3 acts.  It’s hard to rationalize why the bed belonged in the ballet scenes of gypsies and matadors.

The curtain was raised as the orchestra played the overture.  We see Violetta dead in her bed, with Alfredo next to her, and several other characters also in the room (I recall Germont, Annina, and the doctor).  As the overture drew to a close, Violetta sat up, left her bed, and walked backstage.  She came back out in her courtesan dress as Act I unfolds.  This reminds me of Agrippina where all the characters were introduced at the beginning lying on their tombs, and the opera ended with them back on their tombs.  No, it’s not the same producer; perhaps this the technique currently in vogue.

One can like or dislike the production, but there is no doubt the singing was great.  We were in our usual balcony seats, and were amazed at how strong the voices came across.  While everyone held his/her own, Oropesa clearly stood out.  Turns out I have seen her perform several times before, as far back in 2011 as a Rhinemaiden.  During the second act her voice faded a bit, but came back strongly in the final act.

Conductor de Billy flanked by Oropesa and Pretti.  The chorus didn't come out for the curtain call, which was too bad.  It added a lot to the opera, and wore colorful, over-the-top costumes.

One of Giorgio Germont’s arguments is that Alfredo has a sister whose finance would leave her if Alfredo stays with Violetta.  For this production the sister shows up as Giorgio visits Violetta – not sure if that adds to anything as the sister does nothing.  Also in the final act she walks across the stage in a bride’s outfit, with a long train.  Anne said these little things made for a more realistic story.  I say things like this detract from the opera.  Case in point: the opening scene ruined a very well played overture.

Overall, a very enjoyable evening.  There were many empty seats in the auditorium, I wonder how much the coronavirus COVID-19 is making people reluctant to attend public events.

We drove in, and had takeout in the car, again.

New York Philharmonic. Louis Langree, conductor; Isabel Leonard, mezzo-soprano. March 7, 2020.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat S113, $82.50).

Program

Prelude a l’apres-midi d’un faune (1892-94) by Debussy (1862-1918).

Nocturnes (1897-99) by Debussy.

Scheherazade, Three Poems of Tristan Klingsor for Voice and Orchestra (1903) by Ravel (1875-1937).

Le Poeme de l’extase, Op. 54 (1905-08) by Scriabin (1875-1937).

One could tell this is an eclectic program just by the fact that all the titles are in Italics.  Nothing simple like Symphony No. 3 or sonata no. 4.  In my case, other than the Debussy Prelude (a short work), all the other pieces would be new.

I was surprised this was Langree’s NY Phil debut.  He has been for a long time the music director during the summer Mostly Mozart Festivals at Lincoln Center, and by all indications the force behind that Festival being very popular.  A couple of years ago Anne and I were in Cincinnati and got to hear him lead the Cincinnati Symphony.

Since I don’t know the music well, I can’t really say how he did as the conductor.  From what I could grasp, however, they put in a good performance.  And there is this feeling about how extraordinary the program is that made this concert a unique experience that stretches the listener’s imagination.

Perhaps true to the spirit of the concert, the Program Notes is not that easy to follow either.  I read it twice, and there are things I am still not certain (will get to those later).

The first remark in the Program Notes that was helpful was that Debussy’s style was different in several ways: architecture, intuitive, momentary excitement, somewhat Symbolist in character.

Nocturnes is a collection of three symphonic movements: Nuages (clouds), Fetes (festivals), and Sirenes (Sirens).  In addition to the rather large orchestra, this 24-minute work has vocals from a women’s ensemble.  For this concert the voices are provided by the Women’s Chorus from the Juilliard School (Pierre Vallet, chorus master), four each in Soprano and Alto 1 and 2.  They add an interesting timbre to the sound of the pieces.

Debussy did write a commentary on the three movements, starting with the music is to designate the various impressions and the special effects that the word “nocturne” suggests.  “Clouds” describes how the clouds fade away; “Festivals’” vibrating and dancing rhythm blends music and luminous dust participating in the cosmic rhythm; and “Sirens” depicts the sea.  I could with some imagination made believe “Clouds” and “Festivals.”  However, it was difficult to make the case that there was much “sea” in “Sirens,” particularly if one references Debussy’s La Mer.

After performing Debussy's Nocturnes.  The "unfamiliar" faces are members of the Chorus.  Standing next to Langree is the Chorus Master Vallet.

Ravel’s Scheherazade is nothing like Rimsky-Korsakov’s, the latter being a much better-known composition based on The Arabian Nights.  The subject matter is somewhat similar, although in Ravel’s case the story (such as it is) is told via a mezzo-soprano’s voice.  The three poems by Klingsor are Asia, The Magic Flute, and The Apathetic Fellow (or The Indifferent One).  Rimsky-Korsakov’s version is more magic and fantasy, Ravel’s focuses more on the sad and macabre aspects of the fairy tale.  Asia is quite long, the other two are a few minutes each.

I had heard Leonard sing at the Met a couple of times before, and came away either unimpressed (as Marnie) or with no impression at all (as Blanche in Carmelites).  In the smaller David Geffen Hall, and with me sitting in Row S, she came across a lot better.  If singing paints a landscape, the landscape always had a spotlight on it, with no wistfulness or shadows one would expect from Ravel.

Isabel Leonard after singing Ravel's Scheherazade.

Scriabin probably will always be known as the one who came in second (after Rachmaninoff).  His music is nothing like that of Rachmaninoff’s, at least not what I have heard.  The Program Notes certainly didn’t set high expectations for the listener in terms of grasping the music.  It quotes Scriabin as saying “When you listen to Ecstasy, look straight into the eye of the sun!” And from Prokofiev: But it was hard to imagine, at first hearing, just what he was trying to do.  One can go blind by looking directly at the sun, and probably go deaf by listening to the loud passages in this work.  Prokofiev did have something good to say about this work, such as how Scriabin balances his various composition techniques; those were lost on me.

One of my blog entries is on this piece being performed by the NJ Symphony.  I contrasted the NJSO “loud” with the NY Phil “loud.”  Perhaps the NJSO loud has improved, but I must acknowledge NY Phil always has things under control.

Many instrumentalists had solo lines: strings, flute, English horn, and others.  The woodwinds did very well, strings sounded weak in comparison.  The NJSO cellist wasn't on stage tonight.

Anne couldn’t go to this concert, so I went by myself.  There were quite a few empty seats.  The concert ended at around 9:55 pm, and I just made it to NY Penn for the 10:07 train (had to run/walk very fast while inside the station).  A Rangers game just finished, so it was a tight squeeze until the train got to Secaucus Station, after which I managed to find a seat.  Anne came by to pick me up.

Emanuel Ax, piano; Leonidas Kavakos, violin; Yo-Yo Ma, cello. March 6, 2020.

Isaac Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall.  Balcony (Seat F120, $0).

Program – All-Beethoven

Cello Sonata No. 2 in G Minor, Op. 5, No. 2 (1796).

Violin Sonata No. 6 in A Major, Op. 30, No. 1 (1801-1802).

Piano Trio in E-flat Major, Op. 730, No. 2 (1808).

We again got tickets from our friend, who bought them for $101 each.

Tonight’s program was a lot more satisfying than the one prior.  The pieces all seemed a bit more complex, and with the good interplay among the musicians, a lot more enjoyable.  As I listened to the pieces, I thought I had something to say.  Typing this a day later, however, I have forgotten those points.

The movements of the cello sonata are: Adagio sostenuto ed espressivo – Allegro molto piu tosto presto; and Rondo: Allegro.  For the violin sonata: Allegro; Adagio molto espressivo; and Allegretto con variazioni.  For the trio: Poco sostenuto – Allegro ma non troppo; Allegretto; Allegretto ma non troppo; and Finale: Allegro.

For encore the trio played Brahms.  The remarkable aspect of this slow movement was that the violin often played in its low registers while the cello did high notes.  It made for an interesting effect.

It was refreshing; which made me wonder if one could get too much of Beethoven.  I vaguely recall sitting through most (if not all) of Beethoven's symphonies during one of these festivals, and it was okay.  We shall see as this year of his 250^th birthday progresses.

It was raining most of the day, so made for a somewhat miserable night out.  I was surprised how easy it was again to find parking.  Dinner was at a pizza joint on 8^th Ave.

Emanuel Ax, piano; Leonidas Kavakos, violin; Yo-Yo Ma, cello. March 4, 2020.

Isaac Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall.  Balcony (Seat D38, $0).

Program – All-Beethoven (1770-1827).

Seven Variations on “Bei Mannern, welche Liebe fuhlen” after Mozart’s Die Zauberflote, WoO 46 (1801).

Cello Sonata No. 4 in C Major, Op. 102, No. 1 (1815).

Violin Sonata No. 10 in G Major, Op. 96 (1812, rev. ca. 1814-1815).

Piano Trio in C Minor, Op. 1, No. 3 (1794-1795).

First a note about the price.  We got these tickets from our friend CS who was not able to attend the concert.  The value of the ticket as printed is $84.  Sitting around us were two ladies who got rush tickets that morning for $10 each, and a couple who got it “off the street” for $35 each.  The ladies had to stand in line starting at 9:30 am (rush tickets available at 11); and I wouldn’t buy tickets from street touts.

2020 is the 250^th anniversary of Beethoven’s birth, so there are many programs to celebrate the event.  This trio has three concerts at Carnegie Hall; we would be back Friday, but I couldn’t make it on Sunday (CS has tickets to all three).  In about two weeks NJSO has two concerts to go through all five of his piano concertos.  All this in addition to the usual Beethoven programmed into various performances.

One must say tonight’s was a light program, even though it is delightful.  The enjoyment of chamber music is the give and take among the various musicians, and there was a lot of that.

Some remarks about each piece, many taken from the Playbill.  Before that, though, the Playbill’s writeup isn’t particularly favorable to Beethoven.

One remark is that Beethoven often supplemented his income by composing variations on popular themes.  Included in this list is “Rule Britannia.”  Nothing wrong with that, and in any case this is a delightful piece consisting of a theme and a (very short) coda, with seven variations in between.

The Cello sonata was written rather late in Beethoven’s life.  As cello compositions go it is not particularly technically challenging.  The unusual aspect is its structure, which consists of two movements: Andante-Allegro vivace and Adagio-Allegro vivace.  At 15 minutes it is also much shorter than usual.

I have a Beethoven Violin Sonatas book, so there is no excuse why I thought there were only nine of them(Kreutzer being the last).  And this is one of Beethoven’s more familiar violin sonatas.  The sonata was dedicated to Archduke Rudolf, a patron of Beethoven, and is described by the Playbill as “the antithesis of virtuosic display,” with the only “touch of brilliance” in the coda.  The four movements are: Allegro moderato; Adagio espressivo-Scherzo: Allegro; and Poco allegretto.

The last piece on the regular program is from Op. 1 (composed 1794-1795).  It is the most complex work for the evening.  Another unfavorable remark from the Playbill is that Beethoven was so impatient to get out from the shadow of Haydn that he didn’t even acknowledge him in the title page (evidently that was practice).  The movements are: Allegro con brio; Andante cantabile con variazioni; Menuetto: Quasi allegro; and Finale: Prestissimo.

Kavakos, Ax, and Ma at the conclusion of the Program.

I have not said much about how well the musicians did.  Actually I don’t know.  What I can say is I hope they paid Ax the most.  First, he was there the whole time, and the piano parts were no cakewalk.  Mozart’s violin sonatas are often called piano solos with violin accompaniment; to a large extent the duet pieces gave that impression.  And I know it to be so for the violin sonata.  Here is what the Playbill says about the trio: If the writing for violin and cello falls well within the competency of accomplished amateurs, the piano part presents technical demands of a higher order …

And the musicians did well.  With duets and trios errors can be amplified, or at least more noticeable, and there were a few minor ones.  However, the problem for me was I could imagine my playing at that level when I was at my peak with the violin.  That may not be true, but it points out other than the simple delight in these works, these world-class musicians didn’t seem to bring a lot more to the concert.  To take me out of the equation, I don’t think I can tell the difference if it was another competent chamber group on the stage tonight.

The thunderous applause by the audience seemed to prove me wrong.  Could it be they were just awed by the names?  They did provide an encore, a work by Schubert.

I dreaded driving into this part of town.  Turns out parking was easy to find along 57^th Street a couple of blocks away.  We had dinner at Brooklyn Diner.

New Jersey Symphony Orchestra. Christoph Konig, conductor; Simone Porter, violin. February 29, 2020.

State Theatre New Jersey, New Brunswick.  Orchestra (Seat G104, $49).

Program

Overture to the Magic Flute, K. 620 (1791) by Mozart (1756-1791).

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

Symphony No. 6 in A Major (1879-1881) by Bruckner (1824-1896).

This is the last of five entries I end up writing in the span of two days.  Didn’t quite get to finish all five in one day.

To those eagerly awaiting to hear if we saw the NJSO cellist tonight.  No, we didn’t.  Therefore the intrigue continues. With Bruckner on the program, it’s not like the NJSO could do with one fewer musician; I suppose there are many qualified extras who could fill the role.

The program started with a light-hearted and delightful overture from the Magic Flute.  This opera was Mozart’s last.  Mozart conducted the premiere in September 1791 and died in December of the same year.  Neither the opera nor the overture would give any foreboding of Mozart’s looming demise.

For me, the Mendelssohn violin concerto is so familiar that I have problems with any performance that deviates from how I think it should be played (probably influenced by my first exposure to the piece when I was very young).  By all indications Simone Porter is a promising new star: solo performance with the Seattle Symphony at age 10, with the Royal Philharmonic at age 13, and recipient of the Avery Fisher Career Grant in 2015.  She was born in 1996.

She met most of the myriad technical challenges the concerto throws at the violinist, including the flying arpeggio section (technically spiccato bariolage) in the cadenza.  However, her right hand sometimes gets sloppy, and the double-stopped thirds sound muddled.  Make no mistake, it was a performance any soloist would be happy with, but it will still take some time for her to get to the “superstar” level (Joshua Bell’s performance and Itzhak Perlman of old come to mind).

Simone Porter after the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto.

Konig talked a bit about Bruckner and how one should approach it: patience and faith.  (There is one more aspect, I forget.)  Patience because even the sixth is his shortest, it still lasts about an hour.  Faith in that it will be a rewarding experience.  The Program Notes also calls this the least performed of Bruckner's symphonies, a search of my blogs returned I have heard both the 6th and the 9th three times before tonight.  With the concert the sixth wins.

If I am not mistaken, tonight was the first time we heard NJSO perform Bruckner.  They did great.  Not yet world-class great, but impressive nonetheless.  We saw Konig a few years back, and I also remarked that he did a good job with the orchestra.  Tonight he brought out a great, serious sound from the ensemble.

Our seats in the front orchestra section didn’t offer a good view beyond the musicians sitting in the front, so we didn’t get to appreciate the work put in by the woodwinds and brass.  We did see how hard the principal bass worked.  Surprisingly Bruckner does not need a large percussion section to pull off his grand music, the instruments for this are, quoting from the Program, “woodwinds in pairs, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, and strings.”

Christoph Konig after the Bruckner Symphony.

Attendance was okay, not great.  The applause was one of the most sustained I have heard from an NJSO audience.

New York Philharmonic. Franz Welser-Most, conductor. February 28, 2020.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat DD104, $66.50).

Program

Babylon Suite (2014) by Widmann (b. 1973).

Symphonia domestica, Op. 53 (1902-03) by Strauss (1864-1949).

We are now on the fourth blog entry.  And it will be short.

Per the Playbill, Jorg Widmann was commissioned by the Bavarian Staatsoper to write an opera (his third) which resulted in “Babylon.”  The resultant work, first performed in 2012, is described as “personnel from the orchestra pit overflows into the side boxes of the theater, … provides lush, extremely colorful sonic experiences.”  The work was also “greeted with a range of critical response, including a lot of head-scratching.”  He was further commission by several organizations to excerpt a suite from the orchestra, condensing the three-hour composition into 30 minutes.  He probably didn’t try very hard to reduce the instrumentation, as the list is one of the longest I have seen; although from where we sat the orchestra didn’t look particularly imposing, with five or six percussion players in the back.

The piece is basically as advertised: the sound “range from ferocious modernism to reactionary waltzes and marches, with salutes along the way to a good many earlier composers, … not to mention the folk song Scarborough Fair.”  To me it sounded like one walking around the busy streets of a “music town,” as one turns a corner different sounds and melodies are heard over the hustle and bustle of the town.  Indeed interwoven into the suite are stretches of music that sounded very traditional.  I didn’t catch the specific composers referenced, nor anything from Scarborough Fair.  Even though I am not a fan of music that requires more analysis than appreciation, I must say this was quite interesting, and enjoyable.

Note the large number of percussionists in the back of the orchestra.

Richard Strauss went about documenting his domestic life when his son Franz was about five years old.  The seven sections each depict a personality or event in the Strauss household.  The sections are (i) Theme I: Agitated, describing Richard; (ii) Theme II: Very lively, describing Pauline, his wife; (iii) Theme III: Peaceful, their son Franz; (iv) Scherzo: Vigorous; (v) Lullaby: Moderately slow; (vi) Adagio: Slow, describing private time between husband and wife; and (vii) Finale: Very lively, a new day begins.  The clock strikes seven twice in this piece, after sections v and vi per the Program Notes.  I heard them strike twice (sound from a triangle) but not at the places described in the Notes, or I got the sections mixed up.

After performing Strauss's Symphonia Domestica.

I don’t find Symphonia Domestica as compelling thematically as Strauss’s other tone poems (or symphony poems, not sure what the difference is), but it is pleasant enough a composition, and it is always fun to correlate what I hear with the “program.”

Frank Huang got quite a few solo lines in both pieces, he didn’t come across as clearly as I expected.

Speaking of musicians, we saw the NJSO cellist in the cello section again.  NJSO will be playing the next day (Saturday) while this program is repeated, I wonder if we will see her in New Brunswick “tomorrow.”  (I know the answer, but let’s keep things suspenseful for a short while.)

It is interesting to compare the control of the NY Phil with the Budapest Festival Orchestra.  Things are a lot more precise, and great contrasts (and volumes) can be generated without sounding wild.  And there were some loud passages, I could see many musicians covering their ears as the brass and percussion sections got very loud.

Welser-Most conducted with precision.  I thought he elicited a great response from the orchestra.  The applause was on the reserved side.

We took the train in for this 2 pm concert.

Metropolitan Opera. Mozart’s Cosi Fan Tutte. February 27, 2020.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat Q16, $25).

Story.  The sisters Fiordiligi and Dorabella are in love with Guglielmo and Ferrando respectively.  The men’s friend Don Alfonso bets that these women will quickly fall for other people if the opportunity arises.  They place a bet on whether the women will remain faithful.  To do so, the men pretend they are being called up to the war.  The girls are heartbroken, and the maid Despina is bribed by Alfonso to introduce the disguised men as infatuated admirers of the two women.  While they resist at first, the women decide there is no harm in amusing themselves, with each woman picking the other’s finance (in disguise).  Dorabella quickly gives in to Guglielmo, and eventually Fiordiligi falls for Ferrando.  They agree to get married, and as the ceremony proceeds the two men switch back to themselves.  After the entire plot is reviewed, the lovers are reconciled.

Conductor – Harry Bicket.  Ferrando – Ben Bliss, Guglielmo – Luca Pisaroni, Don Alfonso – Gerald Finley, Fiordiligi – Nicole Car, Dorabell – Serena Malfi, Despina – Heidi Stober.

Continuo.  Harpsichord – Jonathan C. Kelly, Cello – David Heiss.

 

I remember seeing this opera a while ago (in 2005, per my blog entry).  What I remembered of it was mostly neutral, and that it is a comedy trying to have a moral statement that doesn’t make sense.  I decided to grab a rush ticket for tonight’s performance.

It is a different production.  The set reminds one of Coney Island in the 1950s.  During the overture, many characters come out from a box at the front of the stage (think clowns from a VW bug), they are “sideshow” characters ranging from a bearded woman to a tribal chief – not sure that’s politically correct nowadays.  With the inclusion of a fire-eater and a couple of sword swallowers, this set is not for young children.  The audience felt the need to applaud, several times, as the characters emerged from the box, making the music in audible; which was too bad.

The basic Coney Island set morphs into a motel and circus grounds.  Walls of the motel rotate so we can have outside and inside views.  The pleasure garden scene has this gizmo whose function isn’t clear to me a couple of days after the performance.

It was a good performance, as long as one doesn’t try to read too much into the story.  This is the third comedy in a row I have seen, and surprising they all work to some extent.

The final scene of the opera has these three hearts and swans for the wedding ceremony.  From left: Don Alfonso, Dorabella, Ferrando, Fiordiligi, Guglielmo and Despina.

From the Met website.

And the singing by all six principals was great.  I sat in seat Q6 for the performance (attendance not good), and the acoustics at the seat helped.  We heard Nicole Car on a couple of occasions as Luisa in Luisa Miller and Marguerite in Faust (Gounod), in Sydney.  She began appearing at the Met a couple of years ago, and if tonight’s performance was any indication, she belongs here.  We have seen Gerald Finley quite a few times before, both at the Met and as a soloist with New York Phil.  I could also find the names Luca Pisaroni and Heidi Stober in my blog entries.

I just realized that I have seen quite a few Mozart operas in the past couple of years.  Is it me, or is his opera back in vogue?

My train was supposed to get in at around 6:30 pm, which would leave me a lot of time for a leisurely meal or a walk to Lincoln Center.  Signaling problems forced our train to linger around Secaucus Junction for a while, and I barely made it to the Met for the 7:30 pm start.  The $20 ham and brie sandwich during the intermission tasted great.  The signaling problems were fixed, so I had to wait for the 12:05 am train.  Anne drove by to pick me up.

Metropolitan Opera. Handel’s Agrippina. February 25, 2020.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center.  Balcony (Seat C118, $87.50).

Story.  When it is thought that the Roman Emperor Claudio is lost at sea, his wife Agrippina wants to have Nerone, her son from a previous marriage, installed as the new Caesar.  She does this by encouraging Nerone to do charity work and recruits help from Pallante and Narciso by promising them sexual favors.  As it turns out, Claudio was saved by Ottone and has promised Ottone the throne.  Meanwhile, Claudio, Nerone and Ottone are all enamored to the courtesan Poppea, who loves Ottone.  Agrippina tries to turn Claudio against Ottone by telling Poppea that Ottone is willing to give her up for the throne, and have Poppea telling Claudio that Ottone is standing in the way.  Pallante and Narciso also discover Agrippina’s deceit, and decide to cooperate.  When Claudio returns to the city, he calls Ottone a traitor, others also abandon him.  Eventually Poppea also finds out Agrippina’s plot and plots revenge.  Agrippina finds a way to revive her plan: she gets Pallante and Narciso to agree to murder each other, and Claudio to agree to give Nerone the throne.  When Ottone and Nerone visit Poppea, she convinces them to hide in separate closets.  Claudio then enters, and Poppea convinces him that Nerone is the one who is his rival, and she reconciles with Ottone.  Pallante and Narciso also reveal to Claudio Agrippina’s plot.  Confronted by Claudio, Agrippina extricates herself with an elaborate defense.  Claudio decrees that Poppea go with Nerone, and that Ottone be the next emperor.  Poppea declares her love for Ottone, who refuses the throne.  Nerone is thus crowned the next Caesar.

Conductor – Harry Bicket.  Agrippina – Joyce DiDonato, Nerone – Kate Lindsey, Pallante – Duncan Rock, Narciso – Nicholas Tamagna, Lesbo (a servant of Claudio) – Christian Zaremba, Ottone – Iestyn Davies, Poppea – Brenda Rae, Claudio – Matthew Rose.

Continuo: Harpsichord – Harry Bicket, Cello – David Heiss, Theorbo/Archlute/Guitar – Daniel Swenberg & John Lenti, Harpsichord Ripieno & Onstage Solo – Bradley Brookshire.

Joyce DiDonato's images were used a lot in promoting the opera.

This opera premiered in Venice in 1709, and over 300 years later, the Met is putting this on the first time this season.  We saw the sixth performance.

Most of my prior exposure to Handel’s opera was with the NYC Opera, and I had at best a lukewarm feel towards them.  My encounter with Giulio Cesare at the Met was mostly positive, if memory serves.  Tonight’s performance added to my appreciation of his work in the genre.

This is a comedy with a dash of humanity thrown in.  All the characters have flaws, but they try.  No one dies.  One could make the case that Agrippina deserves to die, or at least punished severely, given how she is the instigator of all the troubles, but she doesn’t.  Instead she reconciles with Claudio.  The real-life Agrippina became a domineering mother of Nero, and was eventually murdered by him.

The opera is quite heavily promoted.  It was relatively easy to include this opera as part of our subscription as DiDonato is the headlined singer.  The opera was quite enjoyable.  Even one may expect such a story to be a tragedy, as a comedy it also worked.

The story was originally set in Rome (Claudio died 54 AD), the Met production “updates the action to the current day: an era in which sly posturing and questionable tactics continue to drive political discourse.”  From that statement one might expect some commentary on the current political situation; however, I didn’t get any of the political satire the production team was trying to convey, if that was their intention at all.  The “update” allows for regular costume of suits and dresses worn by the musicians.  As far as the set was concerned, the center piece is this flight of stairs at the top of which sits a throne.  Columns are moved around the stage so it would denote a palace, a courtyard, a bedroom, and other scenes.  As a bedroom we have a painting of a woman’s partial face that reminds me Warhol’s painting of Marilyn Monroe.  Looks low budget, but provides the backdrop for the singers to move around, and there are enough hard surfaces to help project the singers voices.  At the beginning and the end of the opera there are these tombs (with the characters' names on them).  Not quite sure what they mean: the futility of it all?

The only visual reminder of Rome is the image of Romulus and Remus nursing at a wolf projected onto the curtain.  Of course the origin of the myth is from around 750 BC.

 The wolf became a discombobulated figure after the intermission.

The orchestra was on the small side, but dominated by the two harpsichords, one played at times by the conductor, the second harpsichordist was also on stage for a while, it was interesting to see a virtuoso harpsichordist working.  I overheard someone complaining the harpsichords’ sound dominated the orchestra; there is some truth to that.  Also used were period instruments the theorbo, the archlute (I thought it was simply a lute), and the guitar.  Overall the music was of high caliber.

DiDonato didn’t disappoint, both as a singer and an actor.  Nerone was sung by a mezzo-soprano, she also did well as an actress.  A side remark is many actors smoked, and in Nerone’s case also took drugs.  Was that necessary?  And all those middle fingers!  Narcisco and Ottone are sung by countertenors.  Altogether there are three men’s roles sung by voices that cause confusion (for me).  The plot is a bit on the convoluted side, and not that easy to follow.

Curtain Call.  From left: Narcisco, Claudio, Nerone, Agrippina, Maestro Bicket, Poppea, Ottone, Pallante, and Lesbo.

A couple of years ago I saw a Vivaldi opera at Zurich opera.  I was very impressed with how the singers maintained their strong voices during the rapid runs typical of the composer.  Handel requires a similar technique (think all those 16^th notes in Messiah), here the singers often didn’t quite measure up in that the could do that only in a softer volume.

All in all a very enjoyable evening.  We drove in, dinner was takeout eaten in car.

Budapest Festival Orchestra. Ivan Fischer, conductor; Gerhild Romberger, contralto. February 24, 2020.

David Geffen Hall at Lincoln Center.  Orchestra (Seat O104, $66).

Program: All-Mahler (1860-1911).

Kindertotenlieder (1901-04).

Symphony No. 5 in C-sharp minor (1901-02).

Today is March 1, and I have fallen way behind with my blog entries.  I need to write about this concert, Agrippina and Cosi Fan Tutti at the MET, a New York Phil concert, and last night’s NJ Symphony concert.  And I want to finish these by the end of today.  (It is 1:30 am now.)

This was our first encounter with Kindertotenlieder. Mahler’s daughter Maria Anna died in 1907, Mahler remarked later that he could not have written these songs anymore as the death was too personal.  Instead, Mahler might have been motivated by the early deaths of his own siblings, and the poet Friedrich Ruckert penned several hundred Kindertotenlieder after two of his own children died.

Romberger had a voice that brought out the emotion such a situation would cause.  She sang with serenity, resignation, and sadness.  The Program Notes says “despite the despair in Ruckert’s texts, Mahler ends his cycle with a transcendent vision.”  I didn’t catch that vision, it was heartache throughout.

Gerhild Romberger after singing Mahler's Kindertotenlieder.

The Program lists the songs in German.  Here are the English translations (from Wikipedia):

     Now the sun wants to rise as brightly.

     Now I see well, why with such dark flames.

     When your mama steps in through the door.

     I often think: they have only just gone out.

     In the weather, in this storm.

Mahler’s Fifth is a symphony I got to know well while in college.  The beginning trumpet solo, the adagietto are among Mahler’s best-known tunes.  When done well, it can paint a lovely landscape.  The Program Notes says this: the trajectory of the work is from darkness (death in Mahler’s case) to triumphant affirmation.

I described the orchestra’s playing (the day before) of Dvorak’s Eighth as with “abandon,” and that worked with the first movement, and not so well with the latter movements.  The orchestra played with the same abandonment, and it mostly didn’t work.  My other observation was “don’t confuse loudness with musicianship.”  If the length of applause afterwards was any indication, many in the audience loved it.

Mahler has these long markings for the movements: (i) Trauermarsch, In gemessernem Schritt.  Streng.  Wie ein Kondukt.  (ii) Sturmisch begwegt.  Mit grosser Vehemenz.  (iii) Scherzo.  Kraftig, nicht zu schnell.  (iv) Adagietto.  Sehr langsam.  (v) Rondo-Finale.  Allegro.  The first movement indeed is a funeral march.

The audience loved the performance of Mahler's Fifth Symphony.

We drove in.  Dinner was at East Szechuan; we hadn't been there for quite a while.