New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Emanuel Ax, piano. June 20, 2013.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat MM105, $66.)

Program

Piano Concerto in D major, Hob. XVIII: 11 (1780-84) by Haydn (1732-1809).

Symphony No. 3 (2011; New York Premiere) by Christopher Rouse (b. 1949).

A Ring Journy, a Suite from Der Ring des Nibelungen (1848-76) by Wagner (1813-83) arr. Alan Gilbert, after Erich Leinsdorf.

One of the tickets for this concert was an exchange from an earlier event that Anne couldn’t make.  When I checked a couple of days prior, I noticed there were only very few seats left, so I went ahead and bought one in the rear of the orchestra section.  Anne had the seat in row T, and I had the seat in row MM.  The acoustics, it turned out, was quite okay.

One would usually expect Ax to do a Beethoven or a modern piece, but instead today he chose a rather straightforward and short composition by Haydn.  The most curious about this work is musicologists have not been able to determine when it was actually composed; the only thing that is “almost certain” is that it was the last keyboard composition by Haydn.  It is a delight to listen to, but I couldn’t tell if it was a great performance.  The three movements are Vivace, Un poco adagio, and Rondo all’Ungherese (Allegro assai.)

Christopher Rouse is finishing up his first year as composer-in-residence at the Philharmonic.  Today’s work was written before he took up this appointment, it was jointly commissioned by several orchestras; his Prospero’s Rooms was premiered by the New York Philharmonic in April 2013, and Symphony No. 4 will be performed in 2014.  In a remote sense he and I had some connection: he studied composition under Karel Husa (among others,) and I played in the orchestra that Husa directed; probably around the same time.  I usually groan when it comes to listening to a modern piece like this as more often than not they are completely beyond my grasp.

The composer did write a short description of how the work (with the tempo marking ♪=176 Theme and Variations) which helped a lot in following the overall plot (plan.)  It actually made the piece understandable and enjoyable.  A seat in the orchestra section did not offer a good view of all the instruments, thus I wasn’t able to tell the difference between a Chinese cymbal, a crash cymbal, and a suspended cymbal; nor that between a tam-tam and a tom-tom.

Rouse also made a connection between this work and Prokofiev’s second symphony, making the claim that he followed Prokofiev’s architecture, and that Prokofiev was influenced by Beethoven’s last piano sonata.  He also said there was little in the way of quoted passages from the Prokofiev piece.  On top of that, the second was one of the more obscure symphonies of Prokofiev’s.  All I can say is that if I was asked to link Rouse’s work with another composer, Prokofiev would be way down the list; and I suspect I still won’t get the connection if I had had listened to it.

After reading through the Program Notes a couple of times, I still don’t quite know what Leinsdorf or Gilbert did to generate this evening’s suite from the 15-hour Ring cycle.  That this is also billed as the premiere performance of the Ring puzzles me even further as Maazel had done a “Ring without Words” when he was leading the orchestra.

Be that as it may, when you condense 15 hours into 50 or so minutes, things can sound quite interesting; especially if you extract the nicer, singable tunes, and repeat each of them several times.  The excerpts work very well as music, but there is no continuity to the story.  Having sit through the cycle three times, I can claim some familiarity to the music and the story.  All I heard were various vignettes.  When you see the operas, you listen for the leitmotivs; while they do appear here and there in this suite, they sounded more accidental than intentional.  Maazel’s adaptation was more true to the original plot; it at least started and ended with the Rhine.  The snobbish in me would say the Gilbert piece was more accessible to your typical concert-goer.

Having said all that, it was still a very enjoyable experience.  There is considerable difference when the orchestra is on center stage, where it gets all the attention, compared to when it is down in the pit.  Also, there was no need to worry about drowning out the singers.

Our friend played the lead (of two) in his section for the Haydn piece, and was at the assistant principal’s place for the Rouse and Wagner pieces.  Good for him.  Also, there were nine double basses for both the Rouse and Wagner pieces, and six harps for the Wagner piece.

I did not get tickets for this concert when I did my annual subscription, thinking it wasn’t going to be that exciting.  Both Anne and I thought it was very enjoyable.

The New York Times review is glowing.  The reviewer made the “connection” that Ax and Rouse are respectively the artist- and composer-in-residence.

New York Philharmonic – Lionel Bringuier, conductor; Leonidas Kavakos, violin. June 14, 2013.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat T105, $72).

Program

L’Apprenti sorcier: Scherzo d’apres une ballade de Goethe (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice: Scherzo after a ballad of Goethe) (1897) by Dukas (1865-1935).

Violin Concerto No. 2 in G minor, Op. 63 (1935) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

Galantai Tankoc (Dances of Galanta) (1933) by Kodaly (1882-1967).

Suite from L’oiseau de feu (The Firebird) by Stravinsky (1882-1971).

For a concert that held such promise, this was somewhat of a disappointment.

Let’s start with the first piece.  The Sorcerer’s Apprentice is always a crowd pleaser.  It is one of the few compositions where association with a specific story line is quite straightforward – thanks of course to the Disney film Fantasia.  While the orchestra sounded precise, it sounded flat.

Perhaps my lack of excitement about the piece could be attributed to my familiarity with it.  Nonetheless, deep inside I was beginning to suspect this was going to be one of those concerts where “everything was done correctly but it still wasn’t that great”. 

I expressed my disappointment at Batiashvili’s performance of Prokofiev’s first violin concerto and was looking for a better experience with the second.  While my prior experience with Kavakos was not all positive, I did expect him to have the technique to pull it off.  Indeed he put in a much more polished and solid performance, but it was by-and-large uninspired.  In the past Kavakos’s playing reminded me of someone practicing an etude, and he was not all that different today.  The brilliant technique couldn’t make up for the emotionally flat performance.

I did learn from the Playbill a few things about the concerto: Prokofiev still lived in Paris when he began writing this piece, although he would return to Russia soon; this concerto was written quite a few years after the first, which was published in 1917; like many other Russian composers, Prokofiev is considered a great orchestrator.

During our trip to Europe last November we drove from Vienna to Budapest (well, the tour operator did) and I don’t remember passing through the town of Galanta, where Kodaly spent seven years as a child.  An examination of a map shows that the town is quite far away from the road connecting the two capitals. The piece performed today certainly sounded Hungarian; it would take a very knowledgeable musicologist to tell that it is influenced by folk songs from this specific region.  The Playbill does quote Kodaly as saying he took the principal themes from a book of music “after several Gypsies from Galanta.”  The tempo markings in the Playbill are: Lento; Allegretto moderato; Allegro con moto, con grazioso; Allegro; and Allegro vivace.  This may lead one to believe there are five different dances.  If they are, they are played without breaks, and each of the dances is not quite confined to the corresponding tempo.

The program concluded with Stravinsky’s Firebird Suite.  It at least to some degree salvaged today’s performance.  Even the Commentator’s writeup provided a lot of new and interesting information, which I either didn’t know or had forgotten.  The original ballet music was written in 1910, and the suite is much simplified a five movements, with relatively simple descriptions: (I) The Firebird and its dance; variations of the Firebird; (II) The Princesses’ Round-Dance (Khorovod); (III) Infernal Dance of King Kahschei; (IV) Lullaby; and (V) Finale.

This is a loud piece of music where things got a bit crazy, especially during the Infernal Dance.  Poor Rebecca Young, she just had to keep putting on and taking off her earplugs.  We are beginning to worry if her hearing is beginning to deteriorate; we wish her well.

For some reason, the Program Notes stresses that each composer is a great orchestrator: “dazzling orchestration” for The Sorcerer’s Apprentice; “a master orchestrator” for Prokofiev; “brilliantly orchestrated modernism” for Kodaly; and “a great showpiece of orchestration” for The Firebird.  Which brings me to the conductor, a young fellow born in 1986.  He certainly has gone places already, finishing up a six-year stint with the Los Angeles Philharmonic as its resident conductor (that means he started when he was 20!)  He is also the chief conductor of Zurich’s Tonhalle Orchestra, and will be its music director starting in the 2014-2015 season.

Today’s concert started at 2 pm.  Since I had no idea if the return traffic would be bad for a Summer Friday, we took the train.

The New York Times review is very positive.  It does remind me that I have seen a couple of Bringuier’s performances before.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Lisa Batiashvili, violin. June 11, 2013.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat T104, $72).

Program

Concerto No. 1 for Violin and Orchestra in D major, Op. 19 (1917) by Prokofiev (1891-1953).

Il prigioniero (1944-48) by Dallapiccola (1904-75).

Cast in Order of Appearance in Il prigioniero: The mother – Patricia Racette, the prisoner – Gerald Finley, the jailer/grand inquisitor – Peter Hoare, first priest – William Ferguson, second priest – Sidney Outlaw, The Collegiate Chorale (Dan Saunders, music preparation.)

This is the New York Philharmonic premiere of this opera by Luigi Dallapiccola.  It is about the experience of a single prisoner during the Spanish Inquisition, but was meant to reflect the tumultuous times experienced by the composer during the second world war, during which he had to live in concealment in and around Florence because he was part Jewish.  There is no synopsis provided in the Playbill, and the story about the jailer giving the prisoner false hope is simple enough that I am not bothering with searching for one on the web.

A rather full orchestra was used for this performance, and the Instrumentation in the Program Notes contains a long list of different instruments.  It is too bad that our seats, while acoustically great, did not provide for a bird’s eye view of the stage; we were thus unable to find out what a “suspended cymbal” or a “cymbal attached to bass drum” looks like.

I always wonder if having the singers on the same stage as the orchestra would work without any amplification for the voices.  In this case we could hear the singing because everyone was shouting at the top of their lungs.  It must have been quite a strain for Finley singing the role of the prisoner, and he did a great job.

As vocal music the composition worked quite well.  Even though Dallapiccola composed on a 12-tone scale ala Schoenberg, I found the music quite easy to “understand” and liked its structure and texture.  As an opera it didn’t evoke the emotion that I expected.  While I could follow along since English subtitles were provided, I didn’t get the anguish that should be easily conveyed by the story.  The Collegiate Chorale must have about 100 people in it (roster actually has 120 names,) and it sounded great for the few moments it was called on to sing.  A small ensemble (20 according to Playbill) was also used.  From what I could tell, they were members of this larger chorale.  The individual artists sang in Italian, and the Chorale and Ensemble sang in Latin.  Question: what was there no translation from the Latin?

The best way to describe this experience: interesting.

Prokofiev’s first violin concerto is not as familiar to me as the second.  Given our seats, I expected a great experience.  And Batisshvili put in a good performance.  She met the technical challenges – and there were many – head on, with ease.  On the other hand, I found the sound a bit on the weak side, which is unexpected for a late-Stradivarius, and the whole performance emotionally flat.  I heard her performing the second concerto a few years back and really enjoyed it.  According to my notes, she is using a different violin (now the 1715 “ex-Joachim”, then a 1709 “Engleman”); perhaps that partially explains the difference?

Turns out later this week I will be hearing Prokofiev’s second violin concerto, to be performed by Leonidas Kavakos.  I wonder how it will compare.

Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Gotterdammerung. May 11, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat A108, $122.50)

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; First Norn – Ronnita Miller, Second Norn – Michaela Martens, Third Norn – Heidi Melton, Brunnhilde – Deborah Voigt, Siegfried – Lars Cleveman, Gunther – Iain Paterson, Hagen – Hans-Peter Konig, Gutrune – Wendy Bryn Harmer, Waltraute – Karen Cargill, Alberich – Richard Paul Fink, Woglinde – Disella Larusdottir, Wellgunde – Jennifer Johnson Cano, Flosshilde – Renee Tatum.

Story.  See previous post.

This concludes the third Ring cycle for me.  Overall it has been a great experience, musically and emotionally.  The story makes more sense, the music makes more sense, and there is something full circle about how the story begins at the Rhine and ends at the same place.  The immolation and the destruction of Valhalla form a sad coda to the entire saga.  I continue to have problems with the 24-plank set, perhaps seeing it a third time would make more sense?  I tend to doubt it.  Of course many of my first impressions about the Ring change as I get to explore the operas further.

The last Gotterdammerung I saw had Katarina Dalayman singing the role of Brunnhilde.  I must say there is quite a bit of distinction between her and Voigt.  Voigt certainly sang with a lot more authority, although I am not sure her acting skills go beyond raising her two arms.  She did get on Grane the horse to go into the fire while Dalayman went in leading Grane by the reins.  And I thought there was more smoke coming off the pyre, and more breakage during the Valhalla destruction scene, compared with the last one I saw.  But these are minor comparisons in light of the overall experience.

To put things in perspective, Seattle Opera is putting on the Ring cycle again in August, and there is not a great desire on my part to go see it.

This opera also concludes the Met season during which I saw 14 performances.  It was overall a good season, even taking into account difficult ones like Parsifal.

I drove to Somerville, MA after the concert.  The Westside Highway was congested, but 11^th Ave had okay traffic, even with its many stop lights.  I got in around 10 pm.

Note added May 18, 2013.  Today I read this New York Times not-so-effusive article on the possible future of "the machine" and the next Met production of the ring.  Indeed the first intermission lasted about 15 minutes longer because they had to fix a glitch in the system.

Metropolitan Opera – Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmelites. May 9, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat C109, $97.50).

Conductor – Louis Langree; The Chevalier de la Force – Paul Appleby, The Marquis – David Pittsinger, Blanche – Isabel Leonard, Thierry (a valet) – Eduardo Valdes, Madame de Croissy (the Prioress) – Felicity Palmer, Sister Constance – Erin Morley, Mother Marie – Elizabeth Bishop, Javelinot (a physician) – Paul Corona, Madame Lidoine (the new Prioress) – Patricia Racette, The Chaplain – Mark Schowalter.

Story.  Blanche de la Force joins the nunnery as a novice because she lives in fear.  While in the nunnery she gets to know another novice Sister Constance.  The Prioress Madame de Croissy dies at the age of 59; she breaks down near her moment of death, which doesn’t help Blanche’s problem with fear.  The nuns get caught up in the French Revolution.  When they cast a secret ballot to see if they have a unanimous vow of martyrdom, Blanche is the only one who casts a negative vote.  She soon changes her mind and joins in the vow.  When the nuns are condemned as enemies of the Revolution, Blanche is in hiding.  However, when the nuns go to the guillotine Blanche joins them.

I knew very little about the story before I showed up for this opera.  I was just too caught up with the Ring to worry about it.  I did remember the basic outline: the Carmelite nuns were forced to give up their property during the French Revolution, but instead of acquiescing to the demand they went to the guillotine instead.  The “story” I wrote above was a summary of what I actually saw, the two major surprises: a lot of the opera was just devoted to everyday life inside a convent, while the nuns seemed to be engaged in deep philosophical discussions, I lacked the insight to understand the significance of what they were talking about.  The second surprise was this issue about the property was brought up only briefly, in the opera the nuns were condemned for being enemies of the state and not supporting the revolution.

I am trying to do this writeup tonight (Friday, a day after the opera) since I will be seeing Gotterdammerung tomorrow and don’t want to leave this hanging.  I will go back and read up on the Playbill later; I hope it will provide more insight into the opera.  If it does, I will make additional entries to this blog.

I know little about Poulenc.  Having more than 10 hours of Wagner the previous days, Poulenc certainly sounded very different.  Different doesn’t mean better, or easier to understand, though.  One thing I can say for sure, leitmotifs were not used.  He started this opera in 1953.

Stage setting is on the traditional side.  The beginning was dramatic enough, when the curtain was raised we saw a large cross on the ground, and the nuns (about 14 of them) were prostrate with their arms spread out.  As the music progressed, they all got up and left the scene.  Various backdrops and props were moved in and out for the different scenes such as the home of the de la Forcves, the convent, the chapel, a prison, and, for the last scene of Place de la Revolution where the executions took place.  The executions were carried out one by way (I lost count, perhaps 15 or so in total.)  The music was such that they didn’t feel monotonous, although the shock value did wear off as the numbers went up.  For those curious as to what happened: the nuns would walk through a curtain and you would hear the “swish” sound of a guillotine coming down.

Another noteworthy scene is the death of the Prioress.  She evidently died a rather painful death, and – despite the view of the novices – young.  She was calm and went about blessing various people around her.  However, she eventually lost her cool and began screaming and protesting why she was to die.  One is led to wonder whether she lost her faith also.

If you also take into account the unfairness of why the nuns got executed, you may reasonably ask is Poulenc trying to raise the question of “does God care?” without actually asking the question.

Since I am playing analyst (which I hate in others), I can also comment that one can also understand the opera at two levels.  On the grand level there is this chaos and mayhem associated with the French Revolution, with many innocent people caught up for no good reason.  On a personal level one can also talk about how Blanche’s fate is tied up in this, with her transforming from a fearful person to one who willingly goes to her death.

I wonder how much of this I will read in the Playbill.  Or do the commentators have additional insights.

Anne couldn’t make this because of her baby-sitting duties, so I asked Chung Shu to go along.  We had a simple meal at Europan before the opera.

The New York Times review is all positive.  It also contains a few interesting facts.  The Prioress (who dies) is sung by Felicity Palmer who is 69 years old.  Also, Elizabeth Bishop substituted for Stephanie Blythe as Fricka in Das Rheingold: no wonder her name is so familiar.

Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Siegfried. May 8, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat A106, $122.50).

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Mime – Robert Brubaker, Siegfried – Lars Cleveman, The Wanderer – Greer Grimsley, Alberich – Richard Paul Fink, Fafner – Hans-Peter Konig, The Forest Bird – Lisette Oropesa, Erda – Meredith Arwady, Brunnhilde – Deborah Voight.

Story.  See previous post.

There is now little doubt, Wagner grows on you.  At least the Ring does.  My recollection of my previous two encounters with Siegfried was that it was just this side of tolerable, with Siegfried not being a particular sympathetic character.

My impression today was completely different.  I found I was quite invested in the welfare of this character, and was quite engaged with his growing up process, from a young kid who didn’t know better than bringing a bear home, to someone who exulted in falling in love with Brunnhilde.

Three male voices were all that was heard in the Act I: Mime, Siegfried, and the Wanderer (Wotan.)  While there was not much melody in the singing, there was quite a bit of drama, with a dash of comedy thrown in.  Siegfried was particularly impressive, and I especially like the “anvil song” during which he filed down Nothung and remade it.

Having seen this production last year, I knew where to look for Brunnhilde when the mountaintop scene first appeared.  At the end of Walkure, Brunnhilde was lying upside down, this time she turned around and was in a more comfortable position.  Even knowing where to look, and with the use of binoculars, she was still a bit difficult to pick out.

I did learn a few additional things.  One is that in Die Walkure the Nothung broke when hit by the spear.  The “new” Nothung, made by Siegfried from melting down the broken sword, broke Wotan’s spear.  The other is that the dragon’s blood allowed Siegfried to understand the forest bird.  Third is that Wotan’s limitation was becoming more and more apparent.  Finally, Wagner at one point was convinced that this would be his most popular work.  On that point I am quite sure Wagner got it wrong.

While I still have problem telling what a particular leitmotif represents, by now a lot of them are quite familiar.

In any case, there is still a lot to be learned.  This cycle will end on Saturday.

Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Die Walkure. May 6, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Family Circle (Seat G208, $57.50).

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Siegmund – Simon O’Neill, Sieglinde – Martina Serafin, Hunding – Hans-Peter Konig, Wotan – Greer Grimsley, Brunnhilde – Deborah Voight, Fricka – Stephanie Blythe, Gerhilde – Deborah Mayer, Helmwige – Molly Fillmore, Waltraute – Jennifer Johnson Cano, Schwertleite – Mary Phillips, Ortlinde – Wendy Bryn Harmer, Sigrune – Eve Gigliotti, Grimgerde – Mary Ann McCormick, Rossweisse – Rebecca Ringle.

Story.  See previous post.

Today I drove in, and it was certainly more leisurely as traffic was light during non-rush hours.

As I was hoping, I did get into the performance.  First, the singing was uniformly good.  While the beginning half of Act I was a bit slow for my taste, the three principal singers all did a great job.  I also found myself emotionally invested in many parts of the story, and how inexorably the plot developed.   There were quite a few of these scenes, such as the one where Brunnhilde and Siegmund "talked" while Sieglinde was asleep.  Also, the story made more sense to me this fourth time around.

Today’s seat was a row up and a little bit to the side of my seat on Saturday.  Perhaps because of that, or because the cast is different, the music sounded much clearer.  Even Wotan, whose performance in Das Rheingold I panned a bit, did quite okay.  And Stephanie Blythe returned from her illness and sang brilliantly as Fricka.

As I was going through my files, I noticed that Grimsley also sang the role of Wotan at the first Ring cycle I attended, in Seattle.  I think he even dressed in a similar fashion.  One noticeable difference is the eye-patch was worn on his left eye today, and on his right during the Seattle run.  (I know this because I kept a copy of the Seattle program with Wotan’s pictures in it.)

At the Act 2 curtain call Blythe walked out with a cane in her hand.  She had a lot of trouble walking.  I wish her well.

In the past I found Siegfried to be a bit on the mundane side.  Will Wednesday’s performance also change my view?

I found this interesting video on Youtube:  The Ring in 2.5 Minutes.  Some think it is sacrilegious to do something like that.  I thought it is very helpful for the uninitiated.  It actually has a very good synopsis of the plot, and includes many of the leitmotifs.

Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Das Rheingold. May 4, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Family Circle (Seat F108, $57.50).

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Woglinde – Disella Larusdottir, Wellgunde – Jennifer Johnson Cano, Flosshilde – Renee Tatum, Alberich – Richard Paul Fink, Fricka – Elizabeth Bishop, Wotan – Greer Grimsley, Freia – Wendy Bryn Harmer, Fasolt – Franz-Joseph Selig, Fafner – Hans-Peter Konig, Froh – Richard Cox, Donner –Dwayne Croft, Loge – Stefan Margita, Mime – Robert Brubaker, Erda – Meredith Arwady.

Story.  See previous post.

I am “home alone” for a couple of weeks, so when I saw that reasonable priced seats were still available for the Ring cycles, I bought the tickets to the four performances that will constitute the last of the Met three cycles this season.  (The entire order with seats in Family Circle and Balcony came to less than $400.)  As part of our subscription I will also be going to “Dialogues des Carmiletes” this Thursday, making it five operas in eight days.  It is going to be interesting to see how this will work out.

I saw a complete Ring cycle in Seattle during the summer of 2009, after which I wondered if I would ever do it again.  When the new Met production came out, I also managed to see all four operas, although not in one sitting, nor the same order.  My overall reaction was generally much more positive.

The insert in the Playbill said Stephanie Blythe was ill and would be replaced by Elizabeth Bishop.  Blythe is one of the names I recognize, and she usually does very well, so I was somewhat disappointed.  At the end I think Bishop filled that role very well.  The Met’s website shows Blythe as Fricka for this evening’s Die Walkure.

My plan for this series of blogs is to simply to record “new” findings about the operas; we will see if I succeed.  Of course these findings have been around for a long time, it is just that I can only absorb so much new information at one sitting.

My awareness that the operas were written in reverse order was only partially correct.  Per the Playbill, only the lyrics (poems as Wagner called them) were written that way, the music was composed in the order the stories unfold.

Thanks to the Playbill, I also got to appreciate how the entire opera begins with an E-flat major chord.  The good news is now I am also beginning to recognize more of the leitmotifs.  To my disappointment, the acoustics for my seat half-way up the Family Circle wasn’t as good as I expected; oftentimes the singers were overwhelmed by the orchestra.  Nonetheless, most of them did well.  An exception would be Grimsley in the role of Wotan: his voice was on the weak side.

My recollection of the (now not so) new set was that it was put to some use in the first opera but became more and more of a projection screen in subsequence episodes.  My reaction this evening was even in this opera it was not used that much.  Thus the longer term verdict from me is getting to be less positive.

We shall see how things go, starting with this evening’s Die Walkure.  As I type this (Monday May 6) I am actually quite looking forward to them.

Since I was by myself, I took the train in.  When people were about to go into the auditorium, they were told that there would be no intermissions for this 2 ½ hour opera.  So a lot of them turned around to hit the washroom.  Perhaps because of that, the opera started about 10 minutes late, and didn’t end until 10:45 pm.  I was in a middle seat and didn’t want to run out during curtain call, so I didn’t get to the subway until about 10:55 pm.  Good thing the train came in about two minutes, so I managed to catch the 11:07 pm train back to NJ instead of having to wait another hour.  (For the record, the subway ride took 6 minutes; my walk up from NY Penn earlier that evening took 45 minutes because of the crowds.)  I was all sweaty from the running, though.  I plan to drive in tonight.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; Emanuel Ax, piano. April 25, 2013.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat V104, $72).

Program

Piano Concerto No. 25 in C major, K. 503 (1786) by  Mozart (1756-91).

Symphony No. 3 in D minor (1873, rev. 1874, 1876-77, 1878 and 1888/89; ed. L. Nowak, 1959) by Bruckner (1824-96).

Anne couldn’t make this concert because she is staying behind in the Boston area.  I decided to return one of the tickets and went by myself.  After an early dinner at home, I caught the 5:25 pm train to New York City.

The one surprising thing about this concert was how sparsely attended it was, even with a name like Ax.  There were quite a few empty seats in front of me and both seats next to me were empty.

In the “Alan Gilbert on This Program” section of the Playbill, Gilbert talks about Mozart concertos being frequently paired with Bruckner symphonies.  That was certainly news to me.  And as I prepare to type these notes, I looked through my prior entries with Bruckner, and none of them was paired with a Mozart concerto.  Since none of those concerts had Gilbert as the conductor, perhaps Gilbert is one of the few conductors that do that?  Besides, while both pieces were excellently played – more on that later – I couldn’t hear any Austrian connection between the two very disparate pieces of composition.

I have remarked on several occasions that I cannot tell a good performance of a Mozart composition from a great one.  But I have to make an exception: Ax truly put in a great performance.  While the word “brilliance” isn’t usually associated with a Mozart piano concerto, many other words do, and for me tonight’s performance is even emotionally appealing.  The music is great, but for me the deeper appreciation is how great the performers were able to make it sound.  With the exception of the second movement (Andante) which I found a bit monotonous, the lines in the other movements (Allegro maestoso and Allegretto) were just beautiful.  The artists played with their heart, and the audience listened with their hearts.  As Gilbert describes it, Ax’s musicianship is natural, and his music unfolds in an inevitable way.

The Program Notes for both the Mozart piece and the Bruckner piece talked a lot about things around the music, but not about the music itself.  The write-up on the Mozart piece looks very similar to (what I remember of) the write-up for the last Mozart concerto I heard.  They were written within the same general period, anyway – the other one being No. 23.  It did talk about a passage that sounded very much like the theme song of the French Revolution, which is interesting, but didn’t really add to one’s appreciation of the work.

Bruckner’s third symphony went through revisions similar to the other symphonies I had heard or read about.  His symphonies never seemed to enjoy instant success, and – the supposedly insecure composer that he was – he would try to revise them.  Well, it looks like I am not the only person who doesn’t get Bruckner’s work upon its first hearing.  In any case, this work went through three major revisions, some not even approved by him.  In its originally composed form it evoked so much Wagner that the latter agreed to have it dedicated to him.  Supposedly Bruckner was most pleased with what we heard tonight, but by this revision most of the Wagner quotations were gone – except for the end of the second movement which had a fleeting reference to Die Walkure.

At least that is what I gleamed from the Program Notes, which I suspect left things a bit ambiguous on purpose, for various reasons.  That is not what I heard, though.  The piece started very quietly, and to my ears it sounded somewhat like Das Rheingold and The Flying Dutchman.

I took advantage of the “elbow room” I had and took some notes on the piece.  After the Wagnerian start, the volume quickly built up.  As I observed before, Bruckner had a more classical (meaning traditional) approach to the symphony, and the way he developed a theme was relatively easy to catch.  The first movement (Mehr langsam, Misterioso) was quite long at 21 minutes.  During the second movement (Etwas bewegt, quasi Andante; 16 minutes) we heard a rare and beautiful melody from the viola section.  Somewhere along the line it got very complex: I noticed that each of the string section was further split into two parts.  I listened attentively till the end of the movement and embarrassingly couldn’t hear anything from Die Walkure.  (I will be going to the opera in a couple of weeks; maybe something would jog my memory.)  The third movement (Zielich schnell – Trio) was relatively light-hearted and lasted a relatively short 8 or so minutes.  The beginning of the fourth movement (Allegro; 15 minutes) reminded me of another composer and his works: Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf and Romeo and Juliet.  After a few minutes I noticed during the supposedly unison passages some instruments would come in a fraction of a beat late.  It happened enough times that I wonder if it was on purpose; unfortunately it is probably very difficult to get a copy of the score.  There was a slow cello passage that was also very pleasant, and that was again followed by a Prokofiev-like passage. (I am writing this fully aware that Prokofiev was born in 1891, after the last revision to this symphony.  Perhaps I should have said “anticipated Prokofiev.”)  The piece ended in a typical Bruckner manner, loud, with the strings playing tremolos and the woodwinds and brasses belting out the melody.

The orchestration for the symphony is again quite traditional, but everyone showed up.  I counted 16 second violins, and the roster has only 13 names.  Again the brasses were sometimes on the loud side, although not nearly as egregious as the last Bruckner.

The symphony was close to one hour in length.  To my surprise, I didn’t find it long at all.  Actually somewhere along the line I was telling myself that I was enjoying it.

I am glad I went.  The New York Times review was at best lukewarm on the Bruckner piece, interestingly placing the blame on the ambiguity of the piece due to its many revisions rather than the conductor.  The reviewer also heard references to many Wagner works which I thought got revised out of the score – I will go with my lack of perception on this one.  He even blamed the Avery Fisher acoustics for the disjointed performance he heard.

New York City Opera - Rossini's Moses in Egypt. April 20, 2013.

New York City Center, Balcony (Seat D135, $62).

Conductor - Jayce Ogren; Osiride - Randall Bills, Faraone (Pharaoh) - Wayne Tigges, Amaltea (Queen) - Keri Alkema, Mose (Moses) - David Salsbery Fry (substituting for David Cushing), Aronne (Aaron) - Aldo Caputo, Mambre - Zachary Finkelstein, Elcia - Sian Davies, Amenofi - Emily Righter.

Story.  The opera is based on the events as described in Exodus.  It starts with the plague of darkness, and ends with the Egyptian army being drowned at the Red Sea.  Within this plot is the love story between Osiride, the son of the Pharaoh, and Elcia, a Hebrew woman.  Osiride is struck down by lightning as the result of the last plague.

It has been a long time since we last saw a New York City Opera performance (April, 2008, according to my blog entries.)  I have kind of written the company off ever since they moved from the Lincoln Center and seemed to put out modern operas that I don’t have much interest in seeing.  Persistence on their part in keeping me on their email list pays off – in a small way.  I thought a Rossini opera on a familiar story would be interesting.

The City Center Theatre is on 55^th St.  The first impression when we got into the theatre was that it has been squashed.  Our relatively cheap seats are quite high but still rather close to the stage.  There is a lot of leg room.  Unfortunately we could not see the orchestra at all.  The Koch theatre in Lincoln Center is supposedly “audio-enhanced,” I don’t know if that is the case with this theatre.

First a word on staging.  In a word: none.  Or nearly none.  There were a couple of pedestals where the Queen and Moses stood on, and that was about it.  The sceneries were provided by projections on TV screens that fill the backdrop.  Sometimes real sceneries would be projected, sometimes silhouettes, and sometimes abstract shapes (mostly squares and rectangles).  The promotional video clips I saw would lead one to think they seamlessly integrate into the stage, in actuality most of the time they simply looked like TV projections.  Often, people movements were effected by panning across the sceneries and by having the singers on moving platforms.  However, the technique became a bit trite way before the opera was finished.  That this is an opera lasting about 2 ½ hours (plus an intermission) doesn’t help.  Since NYC Opera probably has a tight budget, perhaps this is acceptable.  Of course I don’t know if this is less expensive than traditional sets.

The costumes are on the traditional side, which I appreciate.  The Egyptians wear clothing that is more “rigid” while the Hebrews wear free-flowing robes.  Further, the Egyptians move in a more mechanical manner, evoking images seen in hieroglyphics.  Interesting, yes.  Necessary?  Not so sure.

The orchestra is on the small side (roster has 8 first violins and 6 second violins) but was more than adequate for the small hall.  It actually put in a very pleasant performance.

All the singers did very well.  David Cushing withdrew as Moses because he was sick.  His substitute Aldo Fry was a bit on the rigid side.  Perhaps that’s how Moses should be sung, or perhaps he was nervous.  Assuming he was called on at the last minute, he also did a credible job.

While the love story provides some poignant moments for the opera, I keep questioning how it is plausible.  Osiride wears his disdain of the Hebrews on his sleeve, so how can he fall in love with Elcia?  Similarly, how can Elcia love someone who harbors such deep hatred for her race?  As stand-alone arias and duets, many of the songs sung by Osiride and Elcia provided moving moments in the opera.

Overall, I am glad I rediscovered the NYC Opera.  We shall see if I will become a fan.

There are more reviews on this than I expected.  This one in New York Post is quite interesting.

Metropolitan Opera - Handel's Giulio Cesare. April 19, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony (Seat B18, $95).

Conductor - Harry Bicket; Giulio Cesare - David Daniels, Curio (tribune) - John Moore, Cornelia (widow of Pompey) - Patricia Bardon, Sesto Pompeo (son of Pompey and Cornelia) - Alice Coote, Cleopatra (Queen of Egypt) - Natalie Dessay, Tolomeo (King of Egypt, Cleopatra's brother) - Christophe Dumaux, Achilla (general, advisor to Ptolemy) - Guido Loconsolo, Nireno (confidant of Cleopatra and Ptolemy) - Rachid Ben Abdeslam.

Story.  Before Caesar has a chance to reconcile with Pompey, Ptolemy kills Pompey and offers his head to Caesar as a goodwill gesture.  This causes great grief for Pompey’s widow Cornelia and their son Sextus.  Achillas and later Ptolemy want Cornelia as his wife.  Cleopatra, who is in contention with Ptolemy to rule Egypt, disguises herself as Lydia and visits Caesar to try to form an alliance.  At the end, Caesar and Cleopatra fall in love with each other, and Sextus avenges his father’s murder by killing Ptolemy.

In this witty and imaginative production of Handel’s most popular opera, David Vicar gives us an audacious blend of serious, comic, romantic and adventurous elements.  The production is full of treats and surprises; it proves beyond a doubt that Handel’s operas can be excitingly staged.

Under the skillful guidance of conductor Harry Bicket, the Met orchestra produces a lithe, lyrical and stylish performance of this great musical score.  The top flight cast that includes David Daniels and Natalie Dessay captivates the audience.  Daniels demonstrates that he is the master of the repertoire, singing remarkably with his full-bodied sound, emphatic delivery, and technical command.  Dessay was astonishing and brilliant as Cleopatra.  As one of the best-acting sopranos, she ranges seamlessly from seductress to desperate defeat to jubilant triumph.  And can she dance!  She sang with sparkle in the perky arias, and with melting richness in the sad ones.  As Sesto, Alice Coote was fiery and rich-voiced.  Christophe Dumaux as Tolomeo sang his tricky arias with fresh, even tone and immaculate technique.

Hail, Ceseare!  This Met production is a conquering hero!

As a result of a comment by one of the few readers of my blog, the above is my review of the performance we saw.  If it reads a bit familiar, it is for a good reason.  I lifted it from a recent email I got from the Met about the HD movie to be screened later this month.  The quotes in that message are in turn from various reviews from The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, and other publications.

In the concert halls of Lake Wobegon where 90% of the performances are above average,  we can stop here.  Every performance scores a grade between an A and an A+, and we should all be amazed at how flawless these professional musicians performed, how their skills tower above us, and how we would never be able to reach their level of achievement.

All true, but that is only part of the story.  I want also to record how the performance appeals to me directly, and how it fares compared to me compared to other performances I have seen.  I grade on a curve of A to C, and give out an occasional D or even an F.  I am not a professional athlete, but I can appreciate how one could get disqualified …

Which is not to say the fake review above has no ring of truth to it.  Of the few Handel operas I have seen, this is the first one  I appreciated and would recommend to others.  During the years I was going to New York City Opera performances regularly at Lincoln Center, the company would put out one or two Handel Operas a season, and I don’t recall enjoying any of them that much.

I have stated many times before that I get confused when countertenors sing in their high voices and women sing the roles of young men.  Both situations obtain here.  The good thing about an opera this long (more than 4 1/2 hours) is that by the time it was over I finally figured out who was who (to my credit, it happened a little before that.)

While the tunes are reasonably melodious, they oftentimes require great technique from the singers, and most did brilliantly.  One exception was Daniels – the “master of the repertoire” – who actually sounded uneven at times.  I don’t know how difficult is Caesar’s role compared to the others, but it didn’t call for the most singing.

All the other singers did very well, I especially enjoyed the performances of Alice Coote as Sesto and Patricia Bardon as Cornelia.

Dessay certainly sang brilliantly.  She could also hold her own among the many good actors in the cast.  She credibly delivered the funny moments (such as dancing like an Egyptian) and handled the difficult passages with ease.  Some scenes had her wearing rather scanty costumes and she managed to pull them off, even at age 48 (today was her birthday.)  The scene she was taking a bath was cleverly choreographed.

There was this piece where the Concertmaster (David Chan) dressed up as an aide had a duet with Caesar that was light-hearted and entertaining.  The Playbill also points out the ABA form of a da capa aria.  This may have been standard in Handel’s time, but appears a bit rigid for today’s listener.

It is my belief this Met production contains many elements designed to appeal to today’s listener, and in this I have the most issues.

First, the period setting.  If you look at how the people are dressed, the best guess would be during British colonial days.  Since the Egyptian setting also resembled a Moorish setting, one would therefore think Middle East.  Lawrence of Arabia, maybe?  Caesar and Cleopatra are historical characters, the story was based on historical accounts, and there would be no shame in having the singers appear as Romans and Egyptians.  It got ridiculous when the tall ships that appeared at the beginning were replaced with modern day battleships.  Funny, maybe, but why?  And was it really necessary to kill Ptolemy with a pistol?

I am sure Handel intended some light moments in the opera, but I felt the production team overdid that, turning some soul-searching arias into farces, distracting from the dramatic effect they could have produced.

Indeed musical and dramatic tastes evolve, and I certainly don’t expect the orchestra to use period instruments.  Different people would draw the “going too far” line differently, for me this production crossed it by quite a bit.  It was enjoyable, but it also leaves me wondering if I would enjoy a performance that is more like how Handel would have led.

Here is the New York Times review.  It is indeed very positive.

New York Philharmonic – David Robertson, Conductor; Pierre-Laurent Aimard, Piano. April 13, 2013.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat Y103, $67).

Program

Les Offrandes oubliees: Meditation symphonique pour orchestra (The Forgotten Offerings: Symphonic Meditation for Orchestra; 1930) by Messiaen (1908-92).

Piano Concerto No. 23 in A major, K. 488 (ca. 1784-86) by Mozart (1756-91).

Le Desenchantement du monde (The Disenchantment of the World), Symphonic Concerto for Piano and Orchestra (2012) by Tristan Murail (b. 1947).

Symphony No. 2 in D maor, Op. 36 (1801-02) by Beethoven (1770-1827).

We bought these tickets about a week ago with the $59 per ticket eClub promotion.  After all the fees were tagged on, the price per ticket ended up being $67.  A “regular” ticket in this section would cost around $100, plus fees.

We had a simple lunch at Ellie’s and Kuau’s new condo in Jersey City with a great view of the Manhattan skyline.  Afterwards we decided to spend the afternoon there.  Traffic into Manhattan was a breeze, except for a minor tie-up around 40^th Street.  We had dinner at China Fun.

This was a relatively long concert, the durations of the four pieces add up to about 100 minutes, and the concert wasn’t done until about 10:20 pm.

The programming was quite interesting, a (relatively) modern piece followeded with a classical/romantic warhorse for each of the halves.  Further, Murail was Messiaen’s student, and Beethoven followed Mozart by a couple of decades in Vienna.  One may argue this speaks to Richardson’s alleged genius as a program designer, juxtaposing pieces in the order he did.  On the other hand, I am not sure if the relationships came out as intended (if indeed that was the intention.)  A regular concertgoer like myself can definitely tell the pieces are quite different, but won’t be able to get how Murail is related to Messiaen contrasts with how Beethoven is related to Mozart.  (I had a lot of trouble trying to put the thought into words.)  My thoughts on the concert are thus limited mostly to comments on the individual pieces.

The Messiaen piece is the shortest at about 10 minutes, divided into three sections: (i) Very slow, dolorous, profoundly sad; (ii) Rapid, ferocious, desperate, breathless; and (iii) Extremely slow, with great pity and great love.  (I won’t bother with the French.)  The composer also wrote a prayer to go with each of the sections: Christ’s sacrifice, human sin (mortal disregard for divine redemption,) and eucharist (re-establishing the balance by divine forgiveness.)  As I type this about a week after the concert, I have forgotten most of the piece – and am quite sure I won’t recognize it if I hear it again.  I do remember a few thoughts I had. the first two parts were relatively short, there was quite a bit of contrast between the movements, and most surprisingly, it sounded quite simple.

The Mozart piece was quintessential Mozart, written during a time when his popularity in Vienna, while high, was on the decline.  It is a familiar piece, with the cadenza written by Mozart, and played very well tonight.  I often say I have trouble telling a good Mozart performance from a great one, and it is the case again tonight.  Our seats were a few row behind our usual seating, and the acoustics was noticeably weaker.  Still, the balance between the soloist and the orchestra was good.  I don’t think I had seen Airmard perform before tonight, the one time we had tickets he withdrew due to sickness.  (I have no way of finding out for sure since I am inside a plane.) The movemnts are Allegro, Adagio and Allegro assai

I am quite sure I have heard Murail before, and was somewhat familiar with the Program Notes description of him as mostly a composer of spectral music, although tonight’s piece was not quite written with that technique.  On the other hand, some instruments were to be tuned about a quarter-note lower than the others.  I certainly can’t sing a quarter-note interval, and the physics of acoustics tells me when two closely tuned notes are played together one hears a pitch that is the average of the two with a beat frequency equal to the difference in frequencies.  Perhaps the tuning gives the music a special timbre, but I can’t tell without an “AB” comparison, and I suspect most people cannot.  In any case, music should speak to one’s heart, not one’s mind.  A piece like this one will remain a curiosity unless it also appeals to one’s heart.  I must say, however, that there is that potential.  Although on the whole I would equate my experience with that of Messiaen’s piece: I won’t recognize it if I hear it again.  This piece was jointly commissioned by the New York Philharmonic the Bavarian Radio, the Royal Concertgebaouw, and the Seoul Philharmonic Orchestras; so it will at least be performed four times.  It is called a Symphonic Concerto as the piano collaborates with the orchestra rather than be in dialogue with it (my paraphrase.)

Despite being the least played of Beethoven’s symphonies (a statement made in the Notes that I somewhat dispute), the second is familiar to most concert goers.  I am sure I read not too long ago in New York Philharmonic’s Notes that there is a dichotomy between Beethoven’s odd and even-numbered symphonies, thus I was somewhat taken aback by the statement “It is no longer fashionable” to do so.  Having said that, however, I must agree this Symphony is more on the radical and extroverted side, despite its being his second.  The most important issue, of course, was if the performance was enjoyable.  It was.  The movements were Adagio molto – Allegro con brio, Larghetto, Scherzo (Allegro), and Allegro molto.

For some reason many in tonight’s audience found it necessary to applaud after each movement.  It was funny at first, but became annoying after it kept happening.  At some point Robertson turned around and mutter, “yes, I like the music too,”  Speaking of which, Robertson was quite energetic tonight.  My mental recollection that he was usually quite wooden was dispelled by a re-reading of my earlier blogs.  His gestures were certainly many tonight, some I consider unnecessary for an orchestra as professional as tonight’s.  Robertson leads the St. Louis Symphony, and will be starting a stint with the Sydney Symphony in January 2014 (I wonder it is an additional appointment.)  Many had hoped he would be Maazel’s replacement; perhaps he had given up since Gilbert was re-appointed, and thus decided to conduct with abandon?  I looked at next year’s programs and didn’t see him as a guest conductor.

Pro Arte Orchestra of Hong Kong – Ho-man Choi, conductor. March 31, 2013.

Auditorium, Shatin Town Hall, Hong Kong, Stalls (Seat R17, HK$180).

Program

Overture to Orpheus in the Underworld by Jacques Offenbach (1819-1880).

The Carnival of the Animals by Camille Saint-Saens (1835-1921).

   Pianists: Alan Chu and Kinwai Shum

Symphony No. 6 in B minor, Op. 74 Pathetique by Tchaikovsky (1840-1893).

I find myself in Hong Kong and China for a couple of weeks.  It turns out I arrived just as the annual arts festival was drawing to a close, so there were very few concerts available.  Actually, this was pretty much it.

A few words about the orchestra, as far as I can tell, its members are all aspiring musicians under the age of 25, and some of their alumni have gone on to well-known music schools throughout the world.  The conductor himself graduated with a master’s degree in conducting from Indiana.  And it is a much larger orchestra than I expected: nine first violins, six cellos, three double basses, and a full complement of woodwind and brass instruments.  Therein lies my problem: should I listen to the group as a youth orchestra, or a full-fledged one?  First the verdict: as a youth orchestra its performance was okay, as a professional ensemble it bordered on disastrous.

Very soon into the first piece it was obvious that, despite the number of players, the woodwind section was weak.  When it came to the solo by the concertmaster (a young woman), there were volume and intonation problems that may be partly attributed to nerves and the need for a better violin.  The timpani, played by a lady, didn’t exert itself as much as it should.  There was quite a bit of syncopation which was a bit off, despite the trick of tapping the on-beat with a finger on the drums.  Nonetheless, I thought the orchestra was okay after they performed this piece.

Carnival is a collection of fourteen episodes, most of which are named after animals.  It was supposed to be humorous.  With an occasional exception here or there, the playing was quite flat and not the least bit humorous.  The flutist did stand out in The Aviary, belting out music that was quite virtuoso.  For the Cygnet, the cello was also a bit weak, despite the cellist being at the front of the stage.  Nonetheless, it was an enjoyable rendition of a lovely tune.  He wasn’t the principal cellist, surprisingly.

For the record, the fourteen movements are: Introduction and Lion’s Royal March, Hens and Cocks, Wild Asses: Swift Animals, Tortoises, The Elephant, Kangaroos, Aquarium, Personages with Long Ears, The cuckoo in the Deep Woods, Aviary, Pianists, Fossils, The Swan, and The Finale.

When I first looked at the Program, I thought the orchestra showed courage in trying the Pathetique Symphony.  After listening to the performance, I decided it was recklessness and bravado.  Let me count the ways.

Very early in the piece the various sections showed how tentative they were, and how many botched notes they played.  This improved but wasn’t eliminated as the performance proceeded.  In my notes the first word I wrote down was “oops.”

There was not much phrasing at all.  One phrase would end, and a split second later another would begin, giving the music a very disjoint feeling and leaving the audience the impression that the orchestra was simply stringing along different melodies without consideration of the overall architecture.

The conductor oftentimes just served as a timekeeper during the more complex passages.  The result was a flat rendition of the score with none of the mood and subtlety that are so rich in the music.

The timpanist was a man (the percussionists evidently alternate their roles) and he was having a good time with the drums.  However, his enthusiasm and the resultant sound were incongruent with the rest of the orchestra.  While the drum does play an important part in the piece, it isn’t the be-all and end-all.

The term “Pathetique” probably won’t be in anyone’s mind while listening to this performance.   The positive third movement was barely so, and the last movement didn’t bring much despair to it.  A few people did applaud after the third movement, which the Program “warned” against.  I say one might as well make it a tradition – like standing for the “Hallelujah Chorus.”  However, in tonight’s case it may be undeserved.

At the end, regardless of the level of the orchestra, an attempt that ultimately proved to be too ambitious is not a prudent thing.  The teacher and the students may give an A for effort, but an audience does not.  Instead of showcasing the strength of the orchestra, the program ended up highlighting its inadequacies.

For encore the orchestra played an arrangement of the familiar hymn “Christ the Lord is Risen Today.”

I do find some information in the Program interesting.  The Offenbach overture wasn’t written by Offenbach, but was arranged by a Carl Binder.  The oft-thought of “can-can” dance at the end is actually an infernal gallop.  The other interesting fact was, except for the Cygnet, Saint-Saens wouldn’t let the Carnival be published lest people concluded he wasn’t a serious composer.

A few words on the auditorium.  This was the first time ever for me, and I was surprised at how nice it looks and how large it is (seats 1500 or so.)  The acoustics seems unsatisfactory, though.

Metropolitan Opera – Verdi’s La Traviata. March 14, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Family Circle (Seat A101, $47.50).

Conductor – Yannick Nezet-Seguin; Violetta Valery – Diana Damrau, Alfredo Germont – Saimir Pirgu, Giorgio Germont – Placido Domingo.

Story.  See previous post.

Watching this opera wasn’t in our original plan.  When we turned in a couple of tickets we couldn’t use for another performance, we had some money “left over” and got these tickets.  Having Diana Damrau as the headliner helped, and at that time we didn’t know about Placido Domingo.  In one sentence: I am glad we went.

It didn’t start that auspiciously.  When we got into the auditorium about 10 minutes before curtain, the curtain was already raised, with a balding gentleman in a black coat sitting on a semicircle bench that spanned the set.  And the set was basically a white curved room in front of a black backdrop.  Other than the bench, the only other prop was a huge clock on the right side of the stage (from an audience’s perspective.)  A reading of the Playbill told us “time” was going to be a major theme in the opera, in that the protagonists only had little of it left and there was no holding back of it.  So we concluded then the gentleman represented Father Time.

I usually don’t care for too much existential analysis of an opera.  Anyone can read into a story and resonate with it morally one way or another, but to pass that understanding off as the new truth about an opera is both unnecessary and presumptuous.  Turns out the story is based on the actual story of Dumas (the son) – news to me and probably many other people.  To me it has always been about how fleeting happiness is: a short-lived love story interrupted and terminated by other people and disease.  (I am writing this blog mostly for myself, so have no qualms about trying to draw a conclusion from it.)

Back to the production.  It was basically the same set up for the entire opera.  The single red sofa in Act I was replaced with several white sofas with floral covering.  The clock was moved from the side to center stage and eventually moved off the stage.  The traditional scenes where gypsies dance and matadors sing were “impressionalized,” for lack of a better word.  Everyone except Violetta was dressed in black suit, coat and tie, including the women.  Scenery changes therefore were mostly in the audience’s minds instead of being actual.  For instance, in Act III the stage became a street when the revelers marched in, and it was “transformed” into a bedroom when they were pushed back by Father Time.  Anne thought it worked pretty well in this new interpretation.  I said the opera worked despite all this nonsense.

Which brings me to my main point: an opera rises and falls on the quality of the music, and in this case the music was simply fabulous.  And to be blunt, Damrau was the show, and she did so splendidly.  Given her background as a coloratura soprano, there was no doubt that she could sing the part.  What was amazing was the range of emotions she managed to convey with her voice, how it was strong, regretful, pensive, and furious when it needed to be.  And her voice either blasted with force into the auditorium, or floated wistfully to the ends of the hall.  I am sure many have seen the opera before, but there was no doubt that not too far into the program the audience was already moved by the inevitability of the conclusion.  When she first appeared on stage (which was at the beginning), she was not quite credulous as a woman who would eventually die of tuberculosis.  By the end, though, the thought didn’t even cross my mind.  This speaks to how captivating the performance was.

Pirgu, whom I heard for the first time, did an admirable job as Alfredo.  But he had two strikes against him: Damrau just did a superb job, and people may wonder how Domingo would have fared if he had sung the part.

Having Domingo in the production was an unexpected bonus for us.  We last saw him as Neptune in The Enchanted Island, there his role was more simply standing there than singing.  The role of Giorgio Germont is much more substantial, and perhaps a challenge for a tenor.  Domingo reached the low notes without any trouble, but seemed to have a bit of a problem with his breathing initially.  Could it be a sense of nerves, after all, the prolonged applause when he first appeared on stage might have told him the great expectation the audience had.  To Domingo’s credit, I thought he realized the supporting role of Giorgio, and acted accordingly even when he was singing as part of an ensemble; he could have hoarded the scene but chose not to.

The orchestra’s role in many of Verdi’s operas is as accompaniment.  There are isolated passages here and there, of course.  Unfortunately for them, even the overture was a bit overshadowed by Father Time and Damrau stumbling across the stage.  To the extent the orchestra was noticed, it did great.

And Father Time?  He was that, I’m sure.  But he was also the doctor, and – in my view – the grim reaper.  But the interpretation is up to the individual, isn’t it?

We had a late lunch with the McNallys and the Hwangs in Marlboro, so I just had cake and Anne had soup at Europan.  To top off a great evening, we found free off-street parking.

I couldn’t find a review in the New York Times, but here is one from The Star Tribune.  The headline “Diana Damrau sensational” says it all.

New York Philharmonic – Alan Gilbert, conductor; New York Choral Artists, Joseph Flummerfelt, director. March 13, 2013.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, Orchestra (Seat T103, $72).

Program – The Bach Variations: A Philharmonic Festival

Mass in B minor, BWV 232 by J. S. Bach (1685-1750).

Soloists

Dorothea Roschmann, soprano; Anne Sofie von Otter, Mezzo-Soprano; Steve Davislim, Tenor; Eric Owens, Bass-Baritone.

Except for lovers of Bach’s music, I suspect most people who have heard about this work have never heard it, certainly not in its entirety.  That is the case with Anne and me.  We actually had a chance to listen to it at last year’s Bach Festival in Bethlehem, PA, but decided to skip it, having had more than our fill of Bach after a day and a half.  When this opportunity came along, we decided to give it a try.

While overall I enjoyed the two hour experience, I feel comfortable only making a few general observations.

First, a few comments about the work itself (mostly taken from the Program Notes.)  This was as much compiled as it was composed by Bach during the last decade of his life.  Many of the material was used before.  However, the complete performance of this Mass didn’t take place until 109 years after his death, in 1859.  The U.S. premiere was performed by the Bach Choir of Bethlehem in 1900, and this work is performed every year during the aforementioned Bach Festival.  The structure is a standard I. Kyrie and Gloria, II. Symbolum Nicenum (Credo), III. Sanctus; and IV. Osanna, Benedictus, and Agnus Dei.

Given the performance norms of Bach’s day, today’s orchestra and choir were probably much larger than what Bach intended.  They were nonetheless reduced size ensembles, and often only parts of the sections would play.  The choir members numbered about 70, and sounded surprisingly weak compared to what I came to expect of them; this was especially true for the tenors – Anne thought she counted only seven of them.

There were only a few arias for the soloists (sometimes they sang duets).  They all did very well.  It is interesting three of the four are from overseas (German, Swedish, and Australian.)  Eric Owens is the American, and we heard him before as Alberich in a couple of the Ring operas.  His voice was the weakest of the bunch.  Every time there was a solo or a duet, there would be one or two solo instruments that accompany the singing (violin, oboe d’Amore, flute, cello); the effect was very pleasant.

I walked away just appreciating how polished the performance was.  Since all lyrics got repeated a lot, I should be forgiven to think I know quite a bit of Latin by the time the performance ended.

In the Playbill’s Lead Story Alan Gilbert says “I am not a Bach specialist, but I will approach the music with sincerity as a musician.”  I am not a Bach aficionado, but I decided to try to enjoy it as a listener.  And I found it enjoyable.

I am now somewhat inclined to head out to Bethlehem in May to listen to how the “originals” did it.

The roster for the orchestra’s bass section looked different from how I remembered it.  Later it was confirmed to me that there had been some personnel changes.  Also, we tried to get dinner at China Fun but it was closed (supposedly only for the day).  We are running out of places to eat here.  We found out to our mild surprise that the Amber across the street is a Japanese/Asian restaurant, and we had a quick bite there.

New Jersey Symphony – Marcelo Lehninger, conductor; Joanna Mongiardo, soprano. March 9, 2013.

Count Basie Theatre, Red Bank, Orchestra (Seat O118, $41).

Program

Italian Girl in Algiers Overture by Rossini (1792-1868).

Rigoletto “Caro nome” by Verdi (1813-1901).

La traviata “E strano – Ah, for’e lui” by Verdi.

Chrysanthemums by Puccini (1858-1924).

La Sonnambula “Ah! Non credea mirarti” by Bellini (1801-1835).

Linda di Chamounix “O luce di quest’anima” by Donizetti (1797-1848).

Symphony No. 4 in A Major, Op. 90, “Italian” by Mendelssohn (1809-1847).

The last time I went to an NJSO concert, I complained about how expensive a ticket was.  This time they were offering 50% off tickets, so we decided to bite.  We live only about 30 minutes from Red Bank, so we left our house at 6:15 pm, thinking that would give us plenty of time.  Turns out it was very difficult to find nearby parking.  When we tried to order sushi at the restaurant and expressed our desire for a quick meal, we were advised to order meals from the kitchen instead of the bar.  It was good advice, we had ten minutes to spare.

I remember Count Basie Theatre as a run-down place greatly in need of an overhaul.  The revival of Red Bank the last twenty or so years also extended to the theatre.  It is now a very nice looking venue, ornately decorated inside.  The smallish venue made everything sounded great, and we had rather good seats in the orchestra section.

The first half of the program consisted of pieces from well-known Italian opera writers.  I hadn’t heard the Puccini and the Donizetti pieces before, but the other pieces were pretty standard.

The soprano Mongiardo did a superb job.  Her voice had a very pleasant quality, and carried very well.  There were some very high notes (e.g., in La traviata) that she reached without difficulty.  A couple of minor misgivings: there were not that many soft passages, and she had a bit of trouble with the trills.  Also, the voice comes in before the orchestra in “E Strano,” and I am not sure she hit the notes correctly.  Nowadays I don’t trust my ears as much as I did, though.

The Symphony by Mendelssohn was familiar, especially the slow movement whose tune is used in a well-known hymn.  The four movements are Allegro vivace, Andante con moto, Con moto moderato, and Saltarello: Presto.  The orchestra did surprising well.  I was quite ready for it to mess up the fourth movement, and was glad that they proved me wrong.

The young Brazilian conductor explained to the audience a little about the background to the Italian Symphony.  I am not sure he added that much to the Program Notes, though.

This was generally a program of popular music, and I enjoyed it.  At half price, the concert was certainly worth it.

Metropolitan Opera – Wagner’s Parsifal. March 5, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony, Seat F12 ($92.50).

Conductor – Asher Fisch; Gurnemanz – Rene Pape, Kundry – Michaela Martens, Amfortas – Peter Mattei, Parsifal – Jonas Kaufmann, Klingsor – Evgeny Nikitin.

Story.  The Holy Grail and the Spear are relics from the crucifixion of Jesus.  Knights are guarding the Holy Grail, and their king Amfortas has been wounded by the Spear since he was distracted by a flower maiden when he was struggling with Klingsor.  Klingsor is the sorcerer who became one after failing to join the knights, even after he castrated himself.  Into this situation comes Parsifal (the name means “pure fool”), who has been shielded from everything by his mother since his father died in battle.  Since Parsifal is the one prophesized to restore order, Klingsor tries to seduce him with the flower maidens and Kundry.  After those attempts fail, Kingsor throws the Spear at Parsifal.  When Parsifal catches the Spear, the evil empire disintegrates.  Parsifal goes to the knights, the Spear is used to heal Amfortas, and the community is enlightened and rejuvenated.

In preparation for this performance, I read the synopsis at the Metropolitan Opera website and the chapter on this opera in the book “The Wagner Operas” by Ernest Newman.  The origins of the myth date back to early twelfth century, and do not refer to the grail or the spear as relics from Jesus’ crucifixion.  Naturally the story has gone through different retelling and variations over the centuries.  Wagner took the story and put his own spin on it, transforming the story into one that is much more religious than the “original.”

This retelling has turned a possibly very compelling story into a mostly narrative opera.  I say possibly because I have read only a few excerpts (translated into English) in Newman’s book.  This results in a near-monologue for the most part of Act I by Gurnemanz and other similar situations in the rest of the opera.  The result is a story that is neither compelling nor dramatic.

The way Wagner composed the music was similar to his other operas: stringing together a lot of leitmotifs.  The Newman chapter contains quite a few of them, not too many of them sight-readable – and I didn’t play them on a piano.  In any case, to my ears many of the leitmotifs sound similar to those in the Ring operas, and every now and then I thought I was watching a Ring episode.  However, as opposed to the Ring opera, there wasn’t a lot of drama on the stage.  The only scene that came close was the spear-throwing at the end of Act II.  When Parsifal caught the one being thrown by Parsifal, everything was frozen in place, with all the spears forming a triangular pattern.

The costumes are non-period, or “timeless” as the Program would want us believe.  The knights all wore suits at the beginning, and they took off their ties and jackets during the prelude, so they ended up wearing white shirts on pants during the opera.  They didn’t wear any shoes: strange for “formally” dressed men.  To my mind it doesn’t work.  The settings for Acts I and III are minimalistic: basically a slanted floor with screen projections at the back.  The scenery for Act II is more interesting.  There is this red liquid on the ground that create a strange effect as people walk on it.  It stains the white dresses of the maidens: there must be a hefty cleaning bill after each show.

As I said earlier, there was a lot of narrative singing by Pape as Guernemanz.  He did most of the singing during Act I, which was quite long at close to two hours.  He was also quite involved with the story in Act III.  The headliners are Jonas Kaufmann playing Parsifal and (originally) Katarina Dalayman playing Kundry.  Dalayman was sick and the role was filled by Michaela Martens.  For a Wagner heroine, this is a relatively easy role and Martens acquitted herself quite well in the singing.  The acting was a bit wooden, though.  And it involved her lying or kneeling on the ground a lot.  The part where she stood out was the seduction scene in Act II; alas, it was also amply clear that she doesn’t have the body of a dancer.  Kaufmann is the one you see on the posters.  This is the third opera I have seen him in, and I still do not understand what the big fuss is about him.  His voice was great at times, but not uniformly so.  In that regard Pape did a much better job.

I am also quite sure the conductor is a replacement, although I don’t remember who was originally slated to lead the performance.   The orchestra produced the sound characteristic of a Wagner opera, but I am not sure it was the best the orchestra could have done.

Some remark about the length of the opera also is in order.  The whole performance, with two rather long intermissions, lasted 5 ½ hours.  Newman mentions somewhere the opera is about three hours, so this production is about an hour too long.  Indeed the whole thing seemed slow, both in terms of how the story evolved and how fast the music was played.  Perhaps the tempo could have been faster, or better still (though not possible) the story could unfold a bit faster.  Wagner first read the myth written by Wolfram in 1845, and completed the opera thirty-seven years later (1882).  One would think the story could have been more compelling if indeed the idea gestated within him for so long.

I don’t get Wagner’s operas on the first hearing.  I doubt many do.  Most of the time I believe I would appreciate the composition more if I listen to it again – and it is indeed true of the Ring operas and The Flying Dutchman.  I am doubtful that is the case here.  I may appreciate the music more; but it is unlikely that would be the case with the dramatic aspects of the opera.

The New York Times review is mixed, at best.  I don’t share the reviewer’s effusive description of Kaufmann’s performance, though.

Opera Australia – La Boheme by Puccini. February 16, 2013.

Sydney Opera House, Stalls K44 (AUD118.)

Conductor – Tom Woods; Rodolfo – Martin Buckingham, Marcello – Samuel Dundas, Colline – David Parkin, Schaunard – Shane Lowrencev, Benoit – John Bolton Wood, Mimi – Natalie Aroyan, Musetta – Sharon Prero, Alcindoro – Adrian Tamburini.

Story.  The four men are poor artists living together, they decide to go to Café Momus.  While Rudolfo stays behind to finish up writing, Mimi shows up asking for a light.  The two eventually fall in love.  As their relationship goes on, Mimi feels Rudolfo is too jealous; Rudolfo actually acts out that way knowing that Mimi is very sick and that he cannot provide for her.  The two part.  A few months later Musette – an on-and-off girlfriend of Marcello – brings in Mimi to the house.  Mimi dies soon afterwards.

Well, what I wrote above is the story about the main characters Rudolfo and Mimi.  There is a “side show” about Marcello’s love with the free-spirited Musette.  And Puccini (or rather the librettist Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica) doesn’t hesitate to throw in a lot of drama.  Strangely, it makes a story that is quite simplistic on paper a rather compelling opera.  I have seen this opera a couple of times, including ones on Broadway, and have been moved to different extents each time.  This performance is no exception.

Indeed this is probably the best opera I have seen from Opera Australia.  Later on I plan to quibble with the performance a bit, but – all said and done – I enjoyed it.  I am not sure my companions (Ruth, Stephen, Tim, and Alyson) were that impressed.  Their major complaints were (i) the surtitles were so far above the stage that they had to move their heads up and down too much; and (ii) there are not that many singable tunes.  (i) was also a problem for me, compounded by my strained neck.  I told them with Puccini they should listen to how the voices work with the orchestra, and oftentimes the voice is used to accompany the melody that is played by the orchestra.  In most of Puccini’s operas one can find several singable melodies.  In La Boheme there are quite a few familiar arias, but they are not ones that you find yourself humming as you amble along – not for most people, anyway.

My biggest complaint would be most of the singing was belted out.  One would think in such a tragedy soft singing would be the order of the day; and one would be wrong.  While a booming voice carried above a full orchestra is impressive, the effect may have been better with a soft whisper.  Of course the latter is much more difficult to pull off.

Natalie Aroyan, playing Mimi, did okay.  However, it would be difficult to make a case that she is malnourished, so the audience ends up having to do more suspension of belief than usual.  Buckingham as Rudolfo was good most of the time, but his voice sometimes broke off, especially at the beginning.  The other three men did quite well.  Musette was believable as a flirtatious woman and delivered the aria in Act II with gusto.

Overall, I enjoyed the evening.

New York Philharmonic Open Rehearsal – Christoph von Dohnanyi, conductor; Radu Lupu, piano. January 31, 2013.

Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center, First Tier (Right side, $0.)

All-Beethoven Program (1770-1827)

Overture to Die Geschopfe des Prometheus (The Creatures of Prometheus), Op. 43 (1800-01).

Piano Concerto No. 1 in C major, Op. 15 (ca. 1795/1800).

Symphony No. 5 in C minor, Op. 67 (1804-08).

Our friend CS’s son-in-law gave him this ticket, I ended up getting it since he couldn’t use it.  I set my alarm for 7 am, and when awaken decided to get up and get going for the 9:45 am concert (instead of going back to sleep.)

What I want to record here are some of the observations I made during the rehearsal, which lasted until 12:15 pm or so.  It started at about 10 am, with a 20 minute intermission.  The pieces in the program add up to less than 70 minutes.

They didn’t practice per the sequence listed in the program.  It was more practical to do the two orchestral pieces first, before bringing out the piano for the concerto.

I was not familiar with the first piece – it was from a ballet Beethoven wrote (and I didn’t know he wrote ballet music.)  It was quite short a about 5 minutes.  I was surprised at how often Dohnanyi had the orchestra repeat a particular transition passage in the music, at one point asking the concertmaster Dicterow play that passage.  I thought at that rate it would take a long time to get through the rehearsal.

The other two pieces are familiar Beethoven orchestral pieces.  In these instances Dohnanyi mostly just ran through the pieces with some isolated comments.

I chose the First Tier seat because it commanded a good view of the action on stage.  Unfortunately, since I saw Dohnanyi’s back most of the time, I couldn’t get what he was saying to the orchestra.  That might have been interesting.

The last time I went to an orchestra rehearsal was about 40 years ago when I played for the Cornell Symphony.  I remember (vaguely) sitting around not paying attention to what the conductor was saying to other sections of the orchestra.  I wonder if a similar situation obtains here

Anne and I actually have tickets for the Friday concert.  Since she is in Boston, and I didn’t want to go by myself (and to somehow dispose of the extra ticket), I gave the tickets to Ellie and Kuau, telling them that this is a rather “lightweight” program that should be quite enjoyable.

Overall, this “sausage making” process was quite interesting to observe, and I got to hear the entire program, albeit with an occasional interruption here and there.