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.

Norwegian National Opera – The Rape of Lucretia by Benjamin Britten. January 20, 2013.

Oslo Opera House, Second House, Oslo, Norway (Row 10, Seat 12, NOK450).

Conductor – Magnus Loddgard; Lucretia – Katjia Dragojevic, Female Chorus – Marita Selberg, Male Chorus – Brenden Gunnell, Tarquinius – Espen Langvik, Bianca – Ingeberg Kosmo, Lucia – Silvia Moi, Collatinius – Magne Fremmerlid, Julius – Yngve Andre Seberg.  The Norwegian National Opera Orchestra.

Story.  A group of soldiers find out that during their absence their wives have been unfaithful, with the exception of Lucretia, Collatinus's wife.  Tarquinius, the son of the foreign Rome ruler Tarquin, decides to visit Lucretia and then rapes her.  Lucretia asks a message to be sent to Collatinus asking him to come home.  When he get home, he discovers Lucretia has already stabbed herself; she dies in his arms.

We would be in Oslo for fewer than 18 hours, getting in at around 4 pm on Sunday, and leaving on Monday’s 11:45 am flight.  Most of the museum would close at about 5 pm, so we were left with this opera as about the only choice if we wanted to do anything.  I certainly would want to visit the Oslo Opera House, but was a bit hesitant because of the specific opera involved.  While I am okay with Britten’s music, I certainly don’t know how two hours of it would feel.  Also, the subject matter is quite dark, especially since Lucretia ends up committing suicide.  I actually wonder why the Norwegians would put out something like this in the dead of winter, during which time everything was dark and gray.  Yet here we were.  And to jump to the conclusion, it was an okay experience.

First, the story.  It is based on the Shakespeare poem “The Rape of Lucrece” written in 1594.  While the plot in the opera is quite straightforward, it is reasonably gripping drama as realized in the opera, to my surprise.

The Second House is a small concert hall, with fewer than 400 seats in my estimation.  Tonight there were about 300 people in attendance.  The opera will have a 7-performance run.  At NOK450 (about $80) one would have to conclude this is a “reasonable” price, especially considering how expensive things are in Norway.  Our regret is we don’t get to see the main hall.

 The Oslo Opera House is built on the waterfront.

Inside of Opera House building.

Since the venue is so small, acoustics isn’t a problem.  Although the orchestra is billed as the Opera Orchestra, its size is that of a reduced chamber orchestra.  Britten’s music is generally okay, although not remarkable on this first hearing.  Oftentimes he had the melodies – such as they are – in the orchestra, with the vocalists singing the “accompaniment.”  Except the accompaniment is often just a “pedal point” in that it is the same note throughout the phrase.  It sometimes gives the impression the singers are just speaking, as in a drama.

The singers generally have a strong voice; only exception is Lucretia who was weak at times. Norwegians speak very good English, and they actually have English subtitles (LED panels at each seat), so the story was easy to understand.

The staging and costume are all modern, which is a bit incongruous as the singers are talking about Rome at around 500BC.  I am generally for period costumes anyway, in this case particularly so as there is a historical aspect to the story.  So at first I thought Lucretia kills herself by downing a lot of pills.  It turns out she does it the traditional way: stabbing herself in the sink and drawing a lot of blood.

One other note, the male and female choruses each consists of one singer.  They also get into the act but do not interact with the characters in the opera.

An interesting experience.  For a small town like Oslo (1.3 million in metropolitan area), they certainly put out a lot of concerts and operas.  I am glad we went.

Metropolitan Opera – Puccini’s La Rondine. January 11, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony, Set D101 ($77.50).

Conductor – Ion Martin; Prunier – Marius Brenciu; Magda – Kristine Opolais; Lisette – Anna Christy; Rambaldo – Dwayne Croft;  Ruggero – Giuseppe Filianoti.

Story.  Magda is the mistress of the rich banker Rambaldo.  While she enjoys her life of ease and culture, she also yearns for true romance.  Rambaldo’s friend son Ruggero visits Paris and is told to visit the dance hall Bulliers to get a taste of Paris night life.  Magda impulsively decides to disguise herself and visit Bulliers.  Ruggero and Magda get to know each other, fall in love, and decide to start a new life together, eventually ending up in a hotel in Nice.  The two are running out of money, so Ruggero writes his family to ask for money, and also asks their permission to marry Magda.  When Ruggero’s mother writes back with her blessings, Magda decides her past makes it impossible to marry him and leaves.

When I went to exchange our Maria Stuarda opera tickets from last week to this week, the only reasonably priced tickets were up in the family circle.  I used the balance to buy two balcony tickets for tonight’s performance.

We left around 4:30 pm for New York City, and I was looking forward to a reasonable meal around Lincoln Center.  When we left our house, the delays at both the Lincoln and the Holland tunnels were around 10, 15 minutes.  We decided on the Lincoln, and what a mistake!  We probably caught the center tube traffic changeover for the evening rush hour, so it ended up taking over an hour from the time we left Exit 16E on the Turnpike to the time we emerged from the tunnel.  What was really puzzling was that there was little traffic in the City itself.  The upshot is the trip took over 2 hours, and we had time only to eat at Europan again.

Tonight’s performance was the first for this opera for this season.  It was also the debut of the Latvian soprano Opolais.  In the past I had always been amazed at the depth of Met’s talent, and I expected a similar experience.

Overall this was only a so-so experience.  Let’s start with Opolais.  She hit all the notes, and had good volume.  But there was not a lot of stage presence, and coupled with the rather wooden delivery of her lines, this was probably not the greatest start to a Met career.  Let’s hope she gets better in subsequent performances, or more importantly, gets roles that match her better.

The leading and supporting men also did only okay (Filianoti as Ruggero, and Brenciu as Prunier).  Their voices, especially that of Prunier, did not carry that well.  Ruggero’s role calls for some high notes which Filianoti hit with falsetto.

A few words about the sets.  The set for Act 1 worked quite well.  However, Act 2 was a bit elaborate for a bar (Bullier) supposed frequented by the common folk and tourists.  The set and the people milling around invoked the image of Renoir’s “Le Moulin de la Galette” for me; Anne thought Renoir’s painting was more colorful (true.) The set for Act 3 had the look of the Mediterranean hotel that it was supposed to be, with columns decorated by mosaics.

The opera is billed as a tragedy, and is indeed one in the sense that Magda and Ruggero ended up separating.  However, most of the opera had a strong comical flavor to it.  As drama the comic parts are a bit incongruent with where the story is going.  That may reflect life, but we go to operas to escape life for a couple of hours, don’t we?  In any case, the audience may end up not be emotionally invested in the protagonists and may end up thinking, “so she ends up leaving him, what’s the big deal.”  As the Program Notes points out, no one dies in the opera; Anne added that she didn’t become a nun either; so maybe there can only be limited sadness in this anyway.

I am particularly disappointed at the end of Act 3 where Madga and Ruggero belted out a rather long duet.  I thought it would have been much more effective if they had done it softly.  They were not so much mad at one another, but instead came to the realization that being together wasn’t going to be possible for the two of them.

The title “La Rondine” is a bit mysterious.  Its first reference is when Prunier predicted that Magda would fly south in pursuit of love and happiness like the swallow.  That is only a part of the story, as far as I am concerned.  I would have expected a bit more similarity between what happens to Magda and what a swallow does, but perhaps that is asking for too much.

The Program Notes has any case of oversell again – no doubt overcompensating for the overall weak story and music.  It goes as far as saying “Bevo al tuo fresco sorriso” can make a valid claim to being the single most gorgeous tune this composer ever produced.  It escaped me altogether.

Since this is the first performance, I am sure there are no published reviews yet.  [Note added 1/25/2013: New York Times has this background piece on the opera that is quite interesting.]

New York Philharmonic – Christoph Eschenbach, conductor; Pinchas Zukerman, violin. January 9, 2013.

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

Program

Violin Concerto No. 1 in G minor, Op. 26 (1864-67) by Bruch (1938-1920).

Symphony No. 6 in A major (1879-91; ed. L. Nowak, 1952) by Bruckner (1824-96).

CS and Shirley came by at around 4:30 pm, we went to Jersey City to drop off Shirley and pick up the NY Phil player to get into the city.  There was not a lot of traffic on our way in.  We got there in time to grab a bite at Europan before the concert.

For a mid-week concert, the attendance was quite good.  I am quite sure Zukerman being the soloist had something to do with it.  The piece he played was well known to concerto goers, especially those who have an interest in violin music.  This is a technically challenging piece which Zukerman polished off reasonably well.  He did particularly well with the more difficult passages.  However, his intonation was a bit off during some of the technically easier passages.  Since it can’t possibly be a case of the nerves for the experienced performer, I must attribute to either lack of practice, or his concentration is not as good as it used to be.

In the past I complained about Zukerman’s violin (a Guarnerius, I recall) as not a proper instrument for a performance in a large concert hall against a large orchestra.  It sounded great tonight, which I assume has to do with the seats we had.  Also, Enschenbach struck a good balance between the soloist and the orchestra.  Overall, this was an enjoyable performance.  The 25 or so minute work consists of three movements (i) Prelude: Allegro moderato; (ii) Adagio; and (iii) Finale: Allegro energico.

I have only limited familiarity with Bruckner’s work.  His symphonies are generally quite long, and don’t get played frequently enough even for someone who hits over 40 concerts a year.  One overarching adjective that seems to describe all of them is that they are loud; in tonight’s case, very loud.  Bruckner didn’t have a particular large brass section in this symphony, yet I sometimes felt I needed a set of ear plugs.  We noticed many musicians covering their ears while not playing, and one kept trying to reinstall the ear plugs that kept falling off.

This one-hour long work has four movements: (i) Majestoso; (ii) Adagio: Sehr feirelich (Very solemn); (iii) Scherzo: Nicht schnell (Not fast) – Trio: Langsam (Slow); and (iv) Finale: Bewegt, doch nicht zu schnell (Moving, but not too fast).  I must say Bruckner’s sense of tempo is very different from mine.  One would think movement iii would be quite quiet and relatively slow, but I certainly didn’t find that to be the case.  Were it not for the limited-scherzo nature at the beginning and end of the movement, I would have thought the piece continued to the fourth movement without pause.  The way the tempos are specified reminds one of Mahler; indeed Mahler while not a student of Bruckner actually admired the older composer greatly.  Both of them were from upper Austria, a region I visited several months ago.

There was a time I listened to Bruckner’s ninth symphony enough that I began to appreciate it (it’s been a while since I last heard it, so the appreciation is but a memory).  I wonder if I get to listen to this one more often if that would happen.  While I characterize Mahler’s symphony as wandering on, and finding new vistas, Bruckner’s work seems to be more concentrated around a number of themes, and in that regard more traditional.

On the way back we got a little of “inside baseball” talk about the orchestra.  Also a word about the Program Notes.  It goes into quite a bit of background about the two pieces, but there is not a lot of discussion on the music itself.  I am sure many in the audience could have used some help in trying to grasp the music.

The New York Times review is also on the mixed side, a complaint being the conductor and the orchestra may not have quite jelled.  The reviewer also thought the horns blasted a bit too loudly.

Metropolitan Opera - Donizetti's Maria Stuarda. January 8, 2013.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center - Family Circle, Seat J217 ($22.50).

Conductor - Maurizio Benini; Maria Stuarda - Joyce DiDonato; Elisabetta - Elza van den Heever; Roberto Dudley, Earl of Leicester - Matthew Polenzani; Giorgio Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury - Matthew Rose; Guglielmo Cecil, Lord Burghley - Joshua Hopkins; Anna Kennedy - Maria Zifchak.

Story.  First, some background is in order.  The threats against Mary, Queen of Scotland, were such that she fled to England and sought protection from Queen Elizabeth, her first cousin, once removed.  Since Mary was a threat to Elizabeth’s reign as Queen of England (Mary being Roman Catholic, and Elizabeth being daughter of Anne Boleyn, accused of being an adulterer by Henry VIII), Elizabeth decides to jail Mary.  The story is based on the last few days of Mary Stuart’s life.  The plot of the opera revolves around a (fictional) encounter between Elizabeth and Mary, which seals Mary’s fate.

The opera begins with Elizabeth entertaining a marriage proposal, and worrying about what to do with Mary.  It also happens the Earl of Leicester admires Mary and wants to plead for her life’s being spared.  He convinces Elizabeth to have a meeting with Mary; Elizabeth is to go on a royal hunt, and Mary is to be allowed to go outside her prison.  Despite the Earl’s pleading, Mary loses her temper with Elizabeth and insults her, thus sealing her own fate.  Mary is indeed executed, but before she goes up to the scaffold, she takes off her coat to expose the red dress she wears as a badge of Catholic martyrdom.

We had prime balcony seats for a performance of this opera last week.  Because of our trip to Boston, we moved the date to today.  By the time I went to the box office to exchange the tickets, only seats in the upper reaches of the family circle were available.  (Well, $200 tickets were still available.)  So here we were.

Our trip into the city was quick until we hit the 20s on the Westside Highway.  The tie-up was not that bad, mostly because of buses trying to turn into the Port Authority.  We also found off-street parking along Amsterdam Ave.  To our surprise, Ollie’s was closed.  There is a posted sign saying it moved a few blocks away, but we couldn’t figure out where it was, so we decided to go to East Szechuan Garden instead.  In reading up on Ollie’s, there was a fire on January 4, and the location would be indefinitely closed.  There is no mention of this new location.  Makes one wonder exactly what happened … good thing no one was hurt.

Back to the opera.  Let me first say this was as perfect an opera as I can expect, or have experienced.  The story was compelling, the singing was generally exquisite, the music was easy to like, the sets did the job, and – despite or because of our location in the house – the acoustics was good.  Let me elaborate on each of these aspects.

Each of the five scenes (over two acts) was compelling in its own right, but the most dramatic one has to be Act 1, Scene 2, where Elizabeth had this encounter with Mary under of the pretexts of a royal hunt and a stroll in the forest next to the prison.  The plan cooked up by Leiceister was for Mary to beg Elizabeth for mercy, but instead she lost her temper due to the insults and prodding of the Queen, calling the Queen the sorry descendent of Ann Boleyn and a “vile bastard.”  Even though it was a tense moment that (according to the opera) sealed Mary’s fate, the exchange brought a chuckle to the audience.  Here you really cheered for Mary’s choice of honor over life, but you also wished that she made a different choice.  Of course, a minor detail is that this incident never happened.  The last scene (Act 2, Scene 3) where Mary was led to her execution also stood out for Mary’s defiance and willingness to forgive.  It was high drama when the red dress she was wearing to symbolize Catholic martyrdom was revealed before she went up the scaffold to meet her death.  A side remark, I was puzzled why Mary did her curtain call with white hair.  From what I read, when her severed head was held up, her head fell off its wig (red hair) and it was revealed that she had short white hair.

Joyce DiDonato was perfect for the role, at least for someone sitting at the back of the house.  First her singing was just great.  Her soft high notes just floated clearly across, carrying with them the wistfulness and regret of her situation.  She also has a very strong low register voice as befits a mezzo-soprano.  I have to contrast her acting skills with those of Anna Netrebko.  I remember remarking when Anne Boleyn was saying “forgive forgive forgive” her face continued to show “hate hate hate.”  Here I thought DiDonato got all the emotions right, even though I don’t see why she should find any forgiveness in her heart given how the story unfolds.  I heard her recently singing the role of Sycorax in The Enchanted Island, but in the opera Danielle de Niese singing the role of Ariel stole the show.  We saw Matthew Polenzani doing a great job as Nemorino in The Elixir of Love.  Here he also did great as Earl of Leicester, a much older figure.  Other principals did well also, portraying their characters well.

Like several other Donizetti’s operas (Anna Bolena comes to mind), there are not many singable tunes in the opera.  However, nice-sounding music dominates, even though most of it is in support of what is happening on stage.  And the orchestra appeared to be a reduced size one.   As I observed after the last Donizetti opera (L’Elisir d’Amore), this opera also contains a lot of ensemble music (duets to sextets).  The South African Elza van den Heever did a great job as the cold and vengeful Elizabeth.  She sang with clarity and forcefulness, and exuded animosity towards Mary.  History is kinder to the actual Queen, considering her a great Monarch.  Also, as with the Elixir performance we saw, Maurizio Benini was the conductor.  There was not a lot of chorus work, but the song that started the last act, from a group of Mary’s supporters lamenting her fate, was full of anguish.  Not quite to the level of the Hebrew’s Chorus in Nabucco, but great nonetheless.

The sets were on the simple side, but the changes in scenery within the same act were done seamlessly and quickly.  I do wonder a bit why such a simple setup was chosen for this new production.  Perhaps the Met spent too much on the Ring?  To satisfy the macabre-inclined, I must describe this scene with the executioner standing next to a block.  Mary has to walk up a staircase (alone) and the curtain comes down when she is half-way.

A few other remarks on what I have learned about Mary Stuart.  It seems the verdict is still out on whether she really plotted to have the Queen assassinated.  Her ultimate “revenge” was her son actually succeeded Elizabeth and reigned as ruler of England and Scotland.  There is no mention of Earl of Leicester in what I have read, much less the possible romance between them.  Also, evidently in Italian the word is pronounced “lei-ces-ter” instead of the simple “lester” in English.  Finally, this series constitutes the premiere performances of the opera at the Met, which I find somewhat surprising.

At the risk of repeating myself, this was simply a great performance.  I am glad we went, even though we didn’t have the best seats (at least as far as view is concerned.)  I have no complaints about the acoustics, though.

I have located several reviews of this opera.  This New York Times review also sings praises to DiDonato and the performance, it also talks about how van den Heever shaved her head to accommodate the wigs she has to wear.  The New York Post review was a bit harsher, using the word “skimping” for DiDonato where most would call “effortlessly floating.”  It made the interesting remark that several scenes had their keys lowered to suit DiDonato’s voice.

Emerson String Quartet. January 7, 2013.

Stern Auditorium at Carnegie Hall, Section Center Balcony (Seat E115, $19).

Program
String Quartet in A Minor, Op. 51, No. 2 (ca. 1865-1873) by Brahms (1833-1897).
String Sextet No. 2 in G Major, Op. 36 (1864-1865).
Piano Quintet in F Minor, Op. 34 (1862-1865).

Musicians
Emerson Quartet - Eugene Drucker and Philip Setzer, violins; Lawrence Dutton, viola; David Finckel - Cello.
Yefim Bronfman, piano.
Paul Neubauer, viola.
Colin Carr, cello.

This is the first concert for the year for us.  We had a couple scheduled for last week (Met and New York Phil) but couldn’t go because of an unscheduled trip to Boston.  I went into the city to exchange those tickets for events this week.  We will end up with four concerts this week, with Thursday the only day “off,” so to speak.

Tonight’s tickets were purchased by CS, at half-price “Black Friday” deal.  I was quite sure I had seen the Emerson Quartet before, but since there is no reference of that in my blogs, I have to say I am mistaken.  This group has had the same musicians since the early days of its founding; they will have a new cellist for the next season, though.  For the second piece they were joined by an additional violist and a cellist, the third piece was a piano quintet.

The structures of the three pieces are remarkably similar.  For the quartet they are (i) Allegro ma non troppo; (ii) Andante moderato; (iii) Quasi Minuetto: moderato; and (iv) Finale: Allegro non assai.  For the sextet: (i) Allegro no troppo; (ii) Scherzo: Allegro non troppo – Presto giocoso; (iii) Adagio; and (iv) Poco allegro.  The quintet’s movements are (i) Allegro non troppo; (ii) Andante un poco adagio; (iii) Scherzo: Allegro; and (iv) Finale: Poco sostenuto – Allegro non troppo – Presto non troppo.  “Non troppo” evidently was one of  Brahms's favorite terms.

I will be brief in my remarks.  My first reaction was that this is a long concert, the three pieces (per Playbill) would each take more than 30 minutes, with the sextet taking close to 40 minutes.  Indeed it was 10:25 pm or so when the concert concluded.  The seats in the balcony are not the most comfortable, I am glad my legs didn’t complain.

The programming for this all-Brahms concert is a bit odd in that the pieces were performed in reverse chronological order.  The quintet was started by Brahms as early as 1862, and the sextet completed as late as1873.  I don’t know Brahms’s work well enough to know if his style evolved a lot during this period, but I certainly find the first piece more difficult to grasp than the last piece.  Of course having some familiarity with the quintet (though not a lot) certainly helped.  Programming like this also has the effect – intentional or not – that my brain probably was sharper earlier in the evening, and thus able to understand the music a bit more.

Since my exposure to chamber music is limited, I can’t comment intelligently on how well the musicians worked together.  On the other hand, all three compositions showed a lot more give and take among the instruments that “your” typical chamber work where I complaint is usually a piece of work for the first violin with accompaniment by other instruments.  To my surprise, the viola had a lot to say in all three pieces.  While not very singable, some of the melodies were very enjoyable.

There is a remark about the quintet in the Playbill that the composition had at one point existed as a Sonata for Two Pianos.  It makes me wonder how a quintet should be viewed in general: is it a piece for five solo instruments, or is it a sonata for piano and quartet?  In this case I lean towards describing it as the latter; for Schubert’s Trout Quintet, however, it sounds more like a collection of five instruments.  I wonder if this is a topic of discussion at all.

The acoustics in Carnegie Hall is such that all the voices came across clearly to where we were sitting.  However, I was a bit disappointed at the rather limited dynamic range exhibited by the musicians, especially with the first piece.  What I don’t know is whether that was the acoustics, or how the pieces were performed, or how the music is written.  The Brahms pieces that I am more familiar with all have wide dynamic ranges.

One interesting thing about the two violin players: they seem to alternate their roles as first and second violins.  I guess there is no reason why other quartets don’t do that, as I am sure the second violins in those are quite competent, but in actuality this is the first time I noticed it.  Also, the “extra” viola player used to be the principal New York Philharmonic, starting at age 21.  Since I had never heard of him before, I imagine he had left for a long time.

We stopped by Jersey City so CS can drop something off for her daughter, and got to see her new-born Thomas.  The trip was smooth until we got off Holland Tunnel: we hit a lot of traffic in mid-town, so we managed only to gulp down burritos at Chipotle before the concert.  The trip home was relatively smooth, but it was close to midnight when we got home.