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.

Metropolitan Opera – Berlioz’s Les Troyens. December 21, 2012.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center, Balcony, Seat B114 ($97.50).

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Cassandra, Trojan Prophetess, daughter of Priam – Deborah Voigt; Coroebus, engaged to Cassandra – Dwayne Croft; Aeneas, Trojan hero - Marcello Giordani, Dido, Queen of Carthage – Susan Graham; Anna – sister of Dido – Karen Cargill; Narbal, Dido’s Minister – Kwangchul Youn; Iopas, poet at Dido’s court – Eric Cutler; Ascanius, son of Aeneas – Julie Boulianne.

Story.  The first part of the opera (Acts I and II: La Prise de Troie) talks about how the Greeks invaded Troy by leaving a wooden horse behind.  Cassandra warns her father King Priam and her fiancé Coroebus to flee the city, but she is ignored.  The Trojans bring the wooden horse left by the Greeks into the city as a way to appease Athena, the Greek deity.  The ghost of Cassandra’s brother Hector visits Aeneas and asks him to flee to Italy.  As the Greeks overrun the city, Cassandra and many other Trojan women commit mass suicide instead of being submitted to rape and enslavement.  The second part of the opera (Acts III, IV, V: Les Troyens a Carthage) centers around events in Carthage after the Aeneas and other Trojans arrived in Carthage.  Seven year prior, Queen Dido – whose husband was murdered -  and her people fled from their native Tyre and settled in Carthage.  They take in the Trojans after they are shipwrecked in a storm.  When the Numidians attack Carthage, the Trojans help the Carthaginians to repel them, thus earning their gratitude.   Aeneas and Dido eventually fall in love, and Dido begins to neglect her duty as Queen.  However, Aeneas is reminded of his mission by Mercury in a vision, so they set sail for Italy, leaving Queen Dido behind.  When she realizes what has happened, the queen ordered a pyre to be built to burn everything that reminds her of Aeneas, and she also commits suicide by stabbing herself on the altar.  Before she dies, she predicts Hannibal will avenge her against Italy.

The headline artists of this performance are Deborah Voigt and Susan Graham, both well known for their respective roles as a soprano and a mezzo-soprano.  I also generally enjoy Berlioz’s music, in particular his Symphonie Fantastique and Faust (which I also saw as an opera).  My expectations for the evening were thus quite high.

This is a long opera, lasting about four hours, five hours with two intermissions. Worried about gridlock during the holiday season, we got into the city quite early, and managed to find free off-street parking!  Dinner was at East Szechuan.  Our trip home was equally smooth.

I didn’t get to write this blog until today (December 26) because we spent Christmas in Boston with family, so I will probably end up with some very general observations.  The first thought that comes to mind was the opera didn’t have to be this long.  This is particularly true of Part II.  There were just many dance numbers that take up a lot of time (to illustrate how Dido and Aeneas are enjoying themselves).  The dancing was probably of high quality, and so was the music, but they didn’t add a lot to the drama.  Someone defending the work would say they added a lot to the overall experience (which I won’t argue with), but to me they do not add to the story much.  I guess it’s a debate similar to the one in Strauss’s Capriccio: is opera about music or about drama?  To my considerable surprise, I was quite awake for the entire performance, and actually quite enjoyed it.

The other surprise was that Deborah Voigt didn’t sound as strong as I expected.  She actually sounded weaker than Dwayne Croft (Coroebus) who according to the announcement at the beginning of the performance was still recovering from a cold.  Voigt was adequate, and actually was quite convincing as Cassandra.  Susan Graham, on the other hand, sang extremely well, her voice carried well into the balcony.

One main voice that spans both Parts was that of Marcello Giordani, playing Aeneas.  He could have shone as the anchor of the show but unfortunately was not quite up to the task.  I found his acting skills a bit on the wooden side also.

Most of the “supporting cast” did great jobs.  Eric Cutler, as Iopas the poet, got quite an enthusiastic applause from the audience.  Karen Cargill and Kwangchul Youn as Dido’s sister Anna and minister Narbal sang clearly and beautifully.  I also like Ascanius, son of Aeneas, as sung by Julie Boulianne.

The production calls for a large chorus.  I counted as many as 160 people on stage at the same time (probably under-counted, if anything.)  At the beginning of the show, they were all lying on the ground, and as the music progressed slowly moved about and eventually all got up.  I thought that was really effective.  The chorus appeared on multiple occasions and I enjoyed their singing.

Despite my opinion that there was too much extraneous dancing, the dancers actually did a great job, and the dances well choreographed.  The color theme for the Carthaginians was white, and the white clothes on the dancers certainly made for a beautiful sight.  Strangely, many of the dances were “unisex” in that the pairings were not always boy-girl.

The staging had as its foundation a nest-like structure built of slats, with a second level platform that served multiple functions, such as the path the Trojan horse was brought into the city, or the cave where Dido and Aeneas declared their love for one another.  Overall, the staging was effective and interesting.

The orchestra put in a great performance.  The music is quite pleasant, but as with my other Berlioz experiences, I probably will enjoy it more as I get more familiarized with it.

Overall it is an enjoyable experience.  However, the overall performance doesn’t quite live up to the grand scale that one would expect given the story and the length of the opera.  Contrast this with my experience with Prokofiev’s War and Peace or even the Broadway show Les Miserables, which brings to mind the word “epic.”

I found both a New York Times review that says the score lasts 4 ½ hours and is quite critical of many aspects of the performance - comparing it with Levine's performance in 2003; and a Huffington Post review that gives quite a bit of detail of Les Troyens history at the Met.

New York Philharmonic - Juraj Valcuha, conductor; Andre Watts, piano. December 11, 2012.

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

Program
Overture to Oberon (1826) by Weber (1786-1826).
Piano Concerto No. 2 in C minor, Op. 18 (1900-1901) by Rachmaninoff (1873-1943).
Symphonic Fantasy on Die Frau ohne Schatten (The Woman Without a Shadow) (1946) by R. Strauss (1864-1949).
Suite from Der Rosenkavalier (1909-10/1944) by R. Strauss

Having returned from Hong Kong the day before, I wasn’t sure I could last through the whole evening without succumbing to jet lag.  Turns out I did, and during the piece I am most familiar with; more on that later.

In any case, I picked Anne up at 4 pm, after she was done with her class for the day.  Traffic was light into the city, and we actually found off street parking after circling the block a couple of times, total cost for parking on 67th ended up being $5.50.  A quick dinner at Ollie’s gave us enough time for coffee at the Rubenstein Atrium.

Three of the pieces for the evening are opera-related.  Two of them, according to the Program Notes, are from operas that weren’t too popular.  I do have some prior knowledge of Die Frau ohne Schatten, from an LA Opera promotion CD dating back about 10 years ago.  And Anne insists that WQXR uses a theme from Der Rosenklavalier quite frequently.  All three operas have interesting stories, although I am not sure that fact is germane to tonight’s program: the music doesn’t necessarily follow the plot of the opera.

Carl Maria von Weber is mostly known as an opera composer, and Oberon was his last.  It was a commission from Covent Garden that may have sapped his strength before he died of tuberculosis. He died less than two months after the premiere.  The Program Notes describes the music quite well, and it was pleasant to listen to, though not memorable.

Over the years, we have seen quite a few of Strauss’s operas (not the two on tonight’s program, though.)  One unifying theme about them: they are all difficult to understand, and the tunes aren’t quite singable.  The two pieces we heard tonight, while not very singable, were quite easy to grasp.  And it turns out what Anne is familiar with is the waltz within Rosenklavalier, having little to do with the main story.  And an interesting fact, it is an anachronism as the story took place about a century before waltzes came into being.

The headliner for the evening was definitely Andre Watts playing a Rachmaninoff piano concerto.  I have liked Watts since I began listening to his recordings while I was in college in the 70s, and Rachmaninoff concertos also work out well for those that can pull them off.

The Program Notes mentions there is always a “take-away” tune with Rachmaninoff’s concertos, and tonight’s was to be in the third movement.  I actually think there is one in each of the three movements (Moderato; Adagio sostenuto; and Allegro scherzando).  Too bad I was feeling a bit drowsy during the performance.  From the parts I was awake for, Watts certainly did a great job with it.  Too bad I didn’t listen to enough of it to know how well he strung them together.  The applause at the end was surely enthusiastic, but my prior experiences with the New York Phil audience tell me it’s more about the performer, not necessarily about the performance.

A few words about the Slovakian conductor Valcuha.  His movements are a bit exaggerated, though not animated, but I didn’t the orchestra was particularly responsive.

Another advantage of off-street parking is the easy get-away after the concert.  We were home before 11 pm.

The New York Times reviewer loved the concert, thinking the conductor was extremely effective.

Hong Kong Philharmonic - Jaap van Zweden, conductor; Christianne Stotijn, mezzo-soprano. December 8, 2012.

Hong Kong Cultural Centre Concert Hall.  Stall 1 (Seat E10, HK$300.)

Program - Jaap's Mendelssohn
The Hebrides (Fingal's Cave) by Felix Mendelssohn (1809-1847).
Sea Pictures, Op. 37 by Edward Elgar (1857-1934).
Symphony No. 3 in A minor, Op. 56 Scottish by Mendelssohn.

I am staying in Hong Kong for about two weeks, unfortunately there are not many concerts during this time of the year.  While I am not familiar with any of the pieces on the program, I am certainly interested in checking out how the new conductor, and Mendelssohn is a dependable composer.  Not an “art song” person, I don’t know what to expect from the Elgar piece.  I went to this concert with Ling and Wally, who coincidentally also went to another concert in this “Jaap’s Mendelssohn” series.

Our seat at HK$300 per person (Ling even got a 50% senior discount) are not expensive.  They are on the front left part of the orchestra section, the view of most of the orchestra being blocked by the first violins.  If you look at the layout of the concert hall, there are not really that many good seats (at least as far as view is concerned).  Acoustically our seat is okay, we were able to hear different parts of the orchestra clearly.

According to the Program, the inspiration of the two Mendelssohn pieces came from his visit to Scotland in 1829, while The Hebrides came out soon afterwards, the Scottish Symphony wasn’t completed until 12 years later: Mendelssohn made a remark that he would never forget what the place looked like (barren, rugged, unforgiving), and how the people acted (unfriendly, drinking all the time.)

To my ears the two compositions sounded similar.  The Hebrides last about ten minutes, and portrays the bleakness of the Cave that Mendelssohn actually.  My expectation having been set by what I have read in the Program Notes, the music didn’t sound as bleak or desolate as I would expect.

The Program contains a good description of the four movements: (i) Andante con moto – Allegro un poco agitato; (ii) Vivace non troppo; (iii) Adagio; and (iv) Allegro vivacissimo – Allegro maestoso assai.  Mendelssohn chose not to supply a program for the music, so the listener needs to supply his own commentary and to correlate different sounds with different phenomena.

Sandwiched between the two Mendelssohn pieces is the Elgar composition.  Elgar set to music the following five poems, all related to the sea: (i) Sea Slumber Song by Roden Noel; (ii) In Haven (Capri) by Caroline Alice Elgar; (iii) Sabbath Morning at Seat by Elizabeth Barrett Browning; (iv) Where Corals Lie by Richard Garnett; and (v) The Swimmer by Adam Lindsay Gordon.  Elgar suggested that “it is better to set the best second-rate poetry to music, for the most immortal verse is music already.”  And he was true to form here: the only poet I knew from the group is Browning.  In Haven (Capri) was written by his wife.

The songs were first performed by Clara Butt who was dressed in a way that suggested a sinuous mermaid.  Interesting, and appropriate; except today’s performer Stotijn was dressed in a way that would take more imagination that I have to evoke any images of the sea.  Her voice was generally weak, which can’t all be attributed to acoustics since we sat so close.  And the dynamic range was quite limited, in this case always somewhere between mp and mf.  Since I have heard some very strong mezzo-sopranos, I don’t think it was a case of my ears not tuned to hear this range (as appears to be the case with violas.)

The music overall was pleasant enough, so I didn’t feel like I suffered through the 30 or so minutes of this work.

Van Zweden appeared to be much more clean cut than his official portrait would look like.  And he isn’t tall like most of the Dutchmen I know.  It took me a while to reassure myself that it was indeed him conducting.  He certainly conducts with a lot of energy, we could hear him grunt as he urged on the orchestra.  Evidently he is a violinist, having been the concertmaster of The Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, and will turn 52 later in the month.  He also leads the Dallas Symphony.

Still, I must say calling this series of concerts (I don’t know how many) Jaap’s Mendelssohn is a bit preposterous.  To me, there should be something special about the interpretation before one can so designate a performance.  Despite my unfamiliarity with the music, I can say definitely that there was nothing special about the performance, pleasant as it was.  I see in the Program there is an upcoming “Jaap’s Mahler.”  One probably cannot become a conductor without a huge ego, but one also needs to know in what echelon of conductors one belongs.

I have said quite a few times that I am quite impressed with the level of playing of the Hong Kong Philharmonic.  And today’s performance did not change that overall opinion.  However, the program may also test the limit of their capability.  In my experience, even if you sit close to an orchestra – as I have done on several occasions – the individual sections still sound like one voice.  One will have to listen carefully if one is to pick up a specific player’s playing.  The end of the Scottish Symphony calls for rapid runs from the orchestra, and I certainly could hear several different first violins, without straining my ears to do so.  Not as bad as my recent New Jersey Symphony experience, but certainly surprising.

Since I am in a critical mood, let me take up the Program Notes, written by a Dr. Marc Rochester (I guess Program Annotators have egos also).  The two Mendelssohn write-ups were by-and-large uncorrelated, it is as if he wrote them on two separate occasions and didn’t bother to do any edit for the evening.  It would have been much more informative if he had taken some time to describe the two pieces together, in the context of Mendelssohn’s visit to Scotland.

Overall it was an enjoyable concert, and I am glad I went.  I just expected a perfect evening, that’s all.

Metropolitan Opera – Verdi’s Un Ballo in Maschera. November 24, 2012.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Balcony, Seat D117 ($92.50).

Conductor – Fabio Luisi; Count Ribbing – Keith Miller, Count Horn – David Crawford, Oscar – Kathleen Kim, Gustavo III – Marcelo Alvarez, Count Anckarstrom – Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Judge – Mark Schowalter, Madame Ulrica Arvidsson – Dolora Zajick, Cristiano – Trevor Scheunemann, Amelia – Sondra Radvanovsky.

Story.  King Gustavo III and Amelia, wife of his friend and secretary Anckarstrom are in love.  Amelia seeks out the fortune teller Arvidsson for advice.  Arvidsson says Amelia should go to a cemetery to find a herb that will rid her of her desire.  She runs into Gustavo III there while a group of rebels led by Ribbing and Horn are also pursuing the king.  The king asks Amelia to put on a veil, and asks Anckarstrom to take her back to the city while the king escapes.  The taunting of the group goads Amelia in removing her veil, thus making known the fact she was with the king.  Feeling betrayed, Anckarstrom joins the rebels and gets selected to assassinate the king.  The king throws a masquerade ball and the three co-conspirators attend the event.  After getting the page Oscar to point out the king’s costume, Anckarstrom stabs the king to death.  Before the king dies, he tells his friend that Amelia has always been faithful, and pardons everyone.

After La Clemenza di Tito, CS and I had coffee at the Rubenstein atrium while we waited for Anne to show up after her CCHC lunch in Flushing.  We sat there, chatted a while, and then decided to go down to Whole Foods for a simple dinner.  Usually Whole Foods in the Time Warner Building is very crowded, it was busy, but we manage to find a place to sit down to enjoy our meal.  We then walked around the shops in the building – it seems there have been quite a few changes since we were last there.  Very soon it was time to head back to Lincoln Center.  CS bought a ticket for the New York Philharmonic, Anne and I headed to the Opera House.

I was wondering whether I was overdoing it after the Opera started.  I felt quite tired and had trouble keeping awake.  Eventually I woke up, got quite caught up with the piece, and really enjoyed this performance.

I said in my prior post that the Mozart performance was technically great but didn’t quite grab me.  One could find more flaws with this performance, but my overall reaction was quite different.

First, the action is faster paced.  Verdi’s music simply propelled the story along to its inexorable conclusion.  Even though I knew how the story would unfold, having read the synopsis, I was still very caught up with the development of the plot.

This opera was written by Verdi when he was in his 40s, after having completed his “trilogy” of Rigoletto, La Traviata, and Il Trovatore, and before Verdi turned to more dramatic and continuous (and to me less melodic) works such as Otello and Falstaff.  This opera has a lot of pleasant and singable arias, but also has a heavy dose of continuous dramatic action.

The orchestra really got into the music, providing a wide range of dynamics, from soft harp passages to heavy drum beats.  There are some woodwind (I think one of them is an alto clarinet) passages that are just splendid.

The set was interesting and simple.  One can think of all the action taking place inside a box which is configured to be the different scenes.  There is a mural showing Icarus falling backwards from Apollo, with his wings breaking off.  Anne and I aren’t sure whether this has anything to do with the story or not.  I suspect one can always make an argument for a connection, but that argument is not obvious.

A lot is asked of the singers also.  All three principals (Alvarez as Gustavo III, Hvorostovsky as Anckarstrom, and Radvanovsky as Amelia) sang beautifully. There are some tongue-twisting quick passages that weren’t perfectly executed; but not so much that it would take away one’s appreciation of the singers’ skill. Their acting skills aren’t shabby either.  While the opera doesn’t provoke the same emotion as a La Traviata or a Tosca, I did find myself sympathizing with the principals, and wishing things would turn out differently (not that they ever do.)

The role of Oscar is sung by a woman, in this case the Korean soprano Kathleen Kim.  She was made up in a somewhat comical and slightly grotesque way, wearing a goatie and sprouting wings every now and then, often with a cigarette dangling from her mouth.  This evidently is one of the few instances Verdi uses a woman to play the role of a male character.  Her voice is great, and I am sure would be more appreciated if she had just been more traditionally costumed.

Speaking of costumes, I am sure people in Denmark didn’t dress like that in late 18^th century.  Since the story doesn’t really hinge on the specific people or era, the dresses, suits and ties weren’t too detracting.

In my opinion, the Program Notes oversells the work a bit.  For instance, the singing that grows from a solo to a quintet in Act III, while nicely “engineered,” isn’t as ingenious as the Notes would lead one to believe.  Similarly, the laughing chorus at the end of Act II isn’t as sinister as the Notes suggest.  That doesn’t mean the genius of Verdi as an opera composer doesn’t come through; but he does that routinely in his operas, not just this one.

There are two intermissions, which make the entire program last until 11:35 pm.  It also took a while for our car to be retrieved from the garage, so it was close to 1 am Sunday that we got home.  This weekend may not have been as tiring as our Seattle Ring foray, but it was tiring enough.

The New York Times review has a lot of good things to say about the opera, but is quite critical of the production.  Here we do get an explanation of how Icarus parallels the king.

Metropolitan Opera – Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito. November 24, 2012.

Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center – Family Circle, Seat H220 ($45).

Conductor – Harry Bicket; Vitellia – Barbara Frittoli, Sesto – Elina Garanca, Annio – Kate Lindsey, Tito – Giuseppe Filianoti, Servilla, Lucy Crowe, Bublio, Oren Gradus.

Story.  The emperor Tito falls in love with Servilla (Sesto’s sister) but she is in love with Annio.  Servilla is brave enough to tell Tito her true feelings and gets the blessing of the monarch.  Vitellia, daughter of the emperor overthrown by Tito, loves Sesto but vacillates between wanting to kill the king to wanting to marry him for the power.  She convinces Sesto, who is a good friend of the Tito, to assassinate him.  Sesto starts a rebellion but relents about killing the emperor.  Sesto is condemned to death, but is granted clemency by Tito after much deliberation on his part. Sesto and Vitellia marry each other.

The story above quite accurately describes what happens in the opera, but is not a synopsis as the story unfolds along multiple parallel lines.  The synopsis in the Program is quite interesting: it basically contains a brief description of each aria and recitative; it works quite well, though.

We had Thanksgiving dinner with the Yangs, and CS told me he bought a single ticket to this Saturday performance in the Family Circle section.  Since Anne was going to be going to lunch with her CCHC group, I decided to also buy a Family Circle ticket ($35, plus $10 handling charge.)  Anne and I were planning to go to another opera that evening (see following blog.) That would mean in about 28 hours I will have been inside a concert hall for more than 8 hours.  I felt quite ready for it at that time.

The Saturday turned out to be a rather long one.  We left our house at about 10:15 am so Anne could make her lunch in Flushing, I then stopped by KFC for a quick bite, and got into the Westside at around 12:30 pm, giving me enough time to pick up the ticket, and to exchange the couple of La Clemenza di Tito tickets we already had (you read it right) for another concert: we couldn’t make this one anyway as I expect to be out of town.  We were done with the evening at about 11:45 pm, and didn’t get home until close to 1 am Sunday morning.

An objective listener would say it was a great Mozart performance.  The orchestra sounded crisp, the way I like Mozart to be played.  The voices were all great.  The set was quite interesting.  They had the same foreground (steps) that could be transformed into different scenes with the right staging.  They had a moving ship to transport Berenice away, the whole scene took all of perhaps one minute.  A bit overdone, in my opinion.  I also appreciated the period costumes the singers wore.

On the other hand, I am not a fan of Mozart (not in heavy doses, anyway.) And this is an opera perhaps only a Mozart lover would adore.  The story itself is okay, but doesn’t deserve the 2 plus hours it lasts.  The second half is especially problematic for me.  They have already caught Sesto in his act, so the entire Act is spent on Tito making up his mind, changing it, signing the death warrant, and then tearing it up.  It reminds of this daisy petal “he loves me he loves me not” process.  Just decide and get on with it already!  For me the most aggravating thing is using women to sing the roles of young men (Sesto and Annio.)  In Annio’s case they also changed the color of his wig which added to the confusion.  Given where I sat, I often couldn’t tell who was doing the singing, and I was hopelessly lost when the two men sang with Vitellia at the same time.

A case of a perfectly executed performance not appreciated by someone looking for something different.  In that regard I am glad I “saved” the more expensive seats for another opera.  I did move to Row D for the second half since the two seats next to CS were vacant.

The New York Times review contains some interesting information on the background of the opera.  It also goes down the list of singers and basically says each does well.