Oberon's Grove

Buon compleanno, Fiorenza Cossotto!

To celebrate the birthday of La Cossotto, a scene from one of her fabulous performances as Santuzza in CAVALLERIA RUSTICANA at the Met in 1970. After the curse, it's my "brava!" that gets the ovation going.

CAV - scene - Cossotto - Domingo - Casei - Kraft - Met 1970

@ My Met Score Desk for CLEMENZA DI TITO

Above: Matthew Polenzani as Tito

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday April 20th, 2019 matinee - One of my favorites among the Mozart operas, LA CLEMENZA DI TITO is a melodious masterpiece. Though THE MAGIC FLUTE is considered the composer's final opera, that work was largely complete when he set about writing CLEMENZA.

LA CLEMENZA DI TITO was something of a throw-back for Mozart: it was written in the old style of opera seria - in which a progression of set-piece (arias, duets, and small ensembles) are linked by brief passages of recitative - to celebrate the coronation of Austrian Emperor Leopold II as King of Bohemia in Prague in 1791.

This formality of structure is illuminated by some of Mozart's most personal arias: Sesto's  "Parto, parto" and "Deh, per questo istante solo", Tito's "Se all'impero, amici Dei", Annio's "Tu fosti tradito", Servilia's "S'altro che lagrime". and Vitellia's "Non piu di fiori", each of which ideally reflects the personality of the character singing it. 

Giving the overture a nice, weighty feel, conductor Lothar Koenigs presided over a well-paced performance. A sterling continuo duo - Davis Heiss, cello, and Bryan Wagorn, harpsichord - added much to the afternoon's pleasure, and thrilling playing from principal clarinetist Inn-Hyuck Cho (as both clarinet and basset horn soloist in "Parto, parto" and "Non piu di fiori" respectively) was a complete joy to experience.

In the title-role, Matthew Polenzani's pliant and expressive singing flowed forth with Italianate lyricism, the voice clear and sure, etched in with detailed pianissimi along the way (most notably in "Del piu sublime soglio") to keep the music fresh. The tenor - whose recent Zankel Hall concert was one of the highlights of the current season - showed great sensitivity in the recitatives, especially in the long scene where he weighs his feelings before passing judgement on Sesto. "Se fosse intorno al soglio"  showed expert dynamic control, and the showpiece "Se all'impero, amici Dei" in Act II was triumphant.

Joyce DiDonato (above) has found a perfect role in Sesto, joining such marvels as Tatiana Troyanos , Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, and Elīna Garanča in the highest echelon of interpreters of this demanding part. Ms. DiDonato, ever alert to the words, sang with dazzling technique and a vibrant sense of dramatic urgency.

In the great aria, "Parto, parto", Ms. DiDonato reveled in the vocal and expressive possibilities Mozart has afforded her. After displaying moving vulnerability - her hushed murmuring of "Guardami...!" was sublime - the mezzo was at her finest as she sailed thru neat-as-a-pin coloratura effortlessly (and perfectly matched by the clarinet), winning a big ovation.

Incredibly, Ms. DiDonato surpassed herself in the second act aria, "Deh, per questo istante solo" where, with touches of straight tone along the way, she sang with deep feeling, expressing the young man's passion and remorse. In the second verse, tiny embellishments were woven in, and the aria's fiery finish brought down the house. 

Elza van den Heever is a puzzling singer: her broad repertoire - from bel canto to Strauss, Wagner and (next season), Berg - seems to indicate a soprano who has not settled on a fach. Which is fine, really, except that the varying demands of the roles she is singing seems to be affecting her tone at times, which can turn rather shrill.

As Vitellia, she was uneven in this role's wide-ranging music, and though she touched on the high-D in Act I and successfully reached downward to the low-G in "Non piu di fiori", the voice lacks sheer beauty and is not really all that fluent in fiorature. The highest notes - a brilliant top-B for one - popped out clearly, but seemed disconnected to the rest of the voice. I really didn't know what to make of her performance. But for some reason, the audience - perhaps spurred on by the MetTitles - found Vitellia to be something of a comic figure; the soprano was well-received at her bows. 

Emily D'Angelo as Annio seemed rather muted at first, and Ms. DiDonato simply drowned her young colleague out in their beautiful Act I duet. But Ms. D'Angelo soon made her mark on the performance, with a finely-rendered "Tu fosti tradito" capped by a nice top-A. The audience loved her.

Lovely, graceful Mozart singing from Ying Fang as Servilia, recalling Hei-Kyung Hong's beautiful Met debut in this role. Ms. Fang, with sweet-toned lyricism, made "S'altro che lagrime" (erhaps the opera's most attractive melody) a tender delight.

Christian van Horn was a superb vocal presence as Publio, showing the advantage of putting a stellar singer in a relatively small - but musically important - role. Bravo!

The houselights slowly came up during the opera's finale: a celebratory touch. The singers were all warmly applauded as they took their bows on the classic Jean-Pierre Ponnelle set.

Metropolitan Opera House
April 20th, 2019 matinee

LA CLEMENZA DI TITO
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Tito.......................Matthew Polenzani
Vitellia...................Elza van den Heever
Sesto......................Joyce DiDonato
Servilia...................Ying Fang
Annio......................Emily D'Angelo
Publio.....................Christian Van Horn
Berenice...................Anne Dyas

David Heiss, Cello
Bryan Wagorn, Harpsichord

Inn-Hyuck Cho, Clarinet and Basset Horn soloist

Conductor..................Lothar Koenigs

Intermissions at The Met these days can often put a damper on even the best of performances, but this afternoon's single interval brought an unexpected treat: clarinetist Inn-Hyuck Cho (above) remained in the pit for the entire half-hour, practicing the basset horn part of "Non piu di fiori". What a mesmerizing sound! The Met is so very fortunate to have this splendid musician in their orchestra. 

~  Oberon

James Ehnes ~ The London Philharmonic

Above: violinist James Ehnes and conductor Edward Gardner, photo from Twitter @ IntermusicaLtd

~ Author: Ben Weaver

Monday April 15th, 2018 - The London Philharmonic’s second New York City concert, a part of Lincoln Center’s Great Performers series, featured some old favorites on the program. Opening with Beethoven’s great and brooding Egmont Overture (why the complete incidental music is so rarely performed is a mystery to me; the work is full of great music!) Today we have gotten quite used to Beethoven performances by reduced ensembles, even when performed by major orchestras the number of players is typically reduced to be closer to an orchestra size Beethoven would have recognized. Not so with this performance of Egmont. Maestro Edward Gardner chose the full London Philharmonic ensemble - and why not, since they all crossed an ocean? The result was a big-boned, massive sound and Gardner’s driven, dramatic reading made for on thrilling start to the concert.

Violinist James Ehnes then joined the orchestra for Sibelius’ magnificent and never tired Violin Concerto. There is no real introduction to the work: out of the shimmering violins rises the soloist. Ehnes’ beautiful tone, perfect pitch, and deeply-felt playing kept the audience in thrall. Ehnes doesn’t make a huge sound, but the musicality and dedication he brings to every note are second to none among his generation of violinists. Here Edward Gardner was a superb accompanist: he kept the orchestra in the background, letting his soloist shine. The audience’s reaction was predictably ecstatic, allowing Ehnes to play two contrasting encores: Ysaë’s blazing Sonata No. 3 and Bach’s wistful, gentle Largo from Violin Sonata No. 3.

Mahler’s Symphony No. 1 received a thrilling performance after the intermission. In the first movement, the slow build from hushed strings that open the work to the “full blast of Mahler” was nicely shaped and paced by Gardner. The sudden return of the opening drone had a sinister glow to it, but horns chased away the clouds and the lovely second theme, a pastorale, returned. The rustic swing of the second movement was taken quite fast, though Gardner knew to slow down for the waltz, played lovingly by the orchestra.

Here some mannerisms from Gardner began to make themselves obvious. Draggy slow parts and extra fast faster sections became the signature of the rest of the performance. Gardner softened the edges of the third movement with its halting funeral march and the child-like melody mocking it. The final movement reinforced Maestro Gardner’s extreme tempos and I don’t think his choices worked. The slow sections began to drag and the Symphony began to lose shape. The hyper-emphasized big moments (already big in Mahler) at the expense of everything else felt contrived. But the London Philharmonic was superb (special praise for the outstanding brass section in the Mahler). It is a great ensemble, I’d go so far as to say LPO is a better orchestra, with its warmer and more versatile sound, than their big cousin, the London Symphony. 

One curiosity about the concert is there were an awful lot of things being dropped by audience members throughout the evening. At least it wasn’t constant cell-phones, I suppose.

~ Ben Weaver

My First WALKURE

Above: Jon Vickers, my first Siegmund

~ Author: Oberon

With Wagner's RING Cycle currently playing at The Met, I've been thinking back to when I saw these operas for the first time. My first RHEINGOLD was conducted by Herbert von Karajan; it was part of a thrilling weekend I spent at The Met in 1969.

It wasn't until 1975 that I saw WALKURE, in a production based on Karajan's Salzburg Festival production. Karajan of course had been due to stage and conduct the entire Cycle at The Met, but he never got beyond the first two operas before withdrawing from the project.

Of my first WALKURE, I wrote in my diary:

"First time - an uneven performance: the good moments were very good, but much of the performance was a letdown.

Sixten Ehrling* (above) did a really great job; he kept things moving, allowed the singers to be heard at all times, and his reading had warmth and clarity. The Valkyries were a mixed lot [I am not sure why I underlined two of the singers' names on my cast page, especially as people like Marcia Baldwin, Batyah Godfrey, and Jean Kraft were favorites of mine at the time]. Bengt Rundgren was an impressive Hunding.

Mignon Dunn as Fricka (above) got off to a rough start, but quickly got things in gear and was very fine. [She was another top favorite of mine, and in 1977 established herself as a star with her portrayal of Ortrud in LOHENGRIN].

Donald McIntyre (above) as Wotan was truly effective: well-sung, very involved, a first-class actor. His long Act II monologue was a high point of the performance.

Donald McIntyre - Die Walküre ~ Wotan's Farewell

Birgit Nilsson was not good as Brunnhilde. She looks really old, was uninvolved as an actress, and she behaved stupidly during the curtain calls. Her "Ho-Jo-To-Ho!" was full of swoops and off-pitch notes. Most of Act II was very ambiguous pitch-wise, and her voice seems to have diminished in size and scope. In Act III, she sounded somewhat better, but pitch was really a problem, and spoiled much of her performance.

Janis Martin as Sieglinde was very good in Act I, but after that she slid downhill. She does not have the ringing upper range for this music, and seemed always to be singing at full-force. Stage-wise she was not exciting at all. Considering all this, I was surprised that she received a rapturous ovation during the curtain calls.

Jon Vickers - Die Walküre ~ Ein Schwert verhieß mir der Vater

Only one word is needed for Jon Vickers' Siegmund: perfect! Bravo!!"

* When I had moved to New York City in 1998 and was working at Tower Records, Maestro Ehrling came in frequently. He was rather cranky the first time I met him: he did not guess that I knew who he was, and he barked at me that no one on the store staff had offered to help him. I let him cool down for a couple of seconds, then I made a small bow, and said: "You conducted my first RING operas, Maestro!"

From then on, and for years to come, Maestro Ehrling was a customer I always looked forward to seeing. He had a million stories, including tales of how antagonistic the Met musicians were towards him during those RING performances. He taught me how to pronounce the names of the RING characters: "...say ZEEEG-lin-da, not See-GLIN-da!")

Then there was his tale of a recording session he had scheduled with Victoria de los Angeles on the day after her marriage. A couple of times, I forfeited my lunch hour just to stay and chat the Maestro up.

Maestro Ehrling was married to a former ballerina, a very kind woman with Old World manners. As time went by, the Maestro became increasingly feeble and unsteady. He sometimes came in unshaven, wearing rumpled clothing. Then, for a while, Madame would come in alone to get CDs for him, saying he was under the weather but slowly on the mend. Then, for a few weeks, I didn't see her.

The news came out that Maestro Ehrling had passed away. I wondered if Madame would remain in New York City (I believe they had a daughter living here). Then one day, she came in. She walked up to me with a gentle smile, saying, "I wanted to thank you for always being so kind to Sixten!"  I almost burst into tears. She became teary also. There was nothing more to be said. She held out her hand, which I kissed, and then she left.

Der Engel - Wagner ~ Wesendonck Lieder - Ingrid Tobiasson - Sixten Ehrling cond

~ Oberon 

Hélène Grimaud ~ Orchestra of St. Luke's

Above: pianist Hélène Grimaud

~ Author: Oberon

Thursday April 18th, 2019 - This Carnegie Hall concert by the Orchestra of St. Luke's, under the baton of their Conductor Laureate Pablo Heras-Casado, gave me my first opportunity of hearing the exceptional French pianist Hélène Grimaud live. Her performance of Ravel's G-major Piano Concerto sent the audience into raptures, resulting in a prolonged ovation. 

The evening got off to a dazzling start with Prokofiev's Symphony #1, "Classical", full of clarity and light in Maestro Heras-Casado's interpretation. The orchestra sounded lovely, notably is the first movement's passage of elegant violins playing over a bubbling bassoon motif. This exuberant Allegro ends suddenly, catching the audience off-guard.

The ensuing Larghetto finds the violins on high, the celli and basses plucking, the horns and clarinet played with cordial warmth. The music winds down, to be taken over by the strutting feel of the Gavotte, which seemed all too brief. Fleet and light-filled, with accented splashes along the way, the concluding Molto vivace dances along, witty and wonderful.  

Above: composer Maurice Ravel

Over the past weekend, Jean-Efflam Bavouzet played the Ravel G-major concerto with the London Philharmonic at Geffen Hall: a marvelous performance. Tonight, in a silky mauve blouse and fitted black trousers, the comely Ms. Grimaud took her place at Carnegie's Steinway and launched her own sensational rendering of this astonishing piece.

It was interesting to consider the sonic effect of the Ravel score in these two different interpretations - in very different venues, on different keyboards. Ms. Grimaud infused the slower passages of the music with a unique perfume, and brought thrilling virtuosity to the long stretches of mile-a-minute allegro.

In the concerto's opening Allegramente, jazzy and sensuous by turns, the orchestra provided luminous textures, so bright and alive. Harpist Sara Cutler helped to weave the spell with her magical playing, and the high horns gave a particular hue. Ms. Grimaud captivated, with trill-ladened passages of exquisite clarity. What an atmosphere she created for us to bask in.

In the long piano solo at the start of the Adagio assai, Ms. Grimaud's gorgeous playing was simply intoxicating. The flute takes on a glow, the oboe plaintive as the piano provides a soft shimmer of sound. We are lured into a dream-world with this transfusion of beauty, the pianist sweeping up and down the keyboard with a seductive feeling of restlessness. Ms. Grimaud's lingering trill was pure heaven.

And then, we are off to the races: the final Presto, played with exhilarating flair by Ms. Grimaud as the orchestra brought brilliant colours to the sonic canvas, swept to a thrilling finish. Ms. Grimaud faced a hall filled with delighted music-lovers, Maestro Heras-Casado escorting her out for a second tumultuous bow. The pianist graciously applauded the St. Luke's players, who returned the favor with enthusiasm. She then left the stage, with the crowd still roaring. The doors were tightly closed, but the audience were having none of it: we summoned Ms. Grimaud back for another sustained round of cheers and applause to cap her triumph.

Brava, Hélène Grimaud!

Above: Igor Stravinsky

Following the interval, a five-minute set of four Stravinsky miniatures, Suite #1 for Small Orchestra, proved intriguing: I'd never heard them before. Dating from 1925, the suite starts off with an Andante, during which visions of Firebirds danced in my head. The Napolitana brings percolating oboe and bassoon; the music rocks along. Then comes the Española, briskly delivered with horns and winds. And lastly, a march-like Balalaika as a final delight. Each dance was over before it began; the suite charmed my dancer-friend Francesca Todesco and me.

In recent seasons, I have made considerable progress in my on-going efforts to connect to the music of Joseph Haydn, a composer whose music I used to shrug off...and even avoid. Tonight, the "Drumroll" symphony, very finely played, had me - after a while - yet again thinking how pleasant it all is, but how lacking in depth. But...kudos to the St. Luke's concertmaster, Krista Bennion Feeney, for her expert playing of the violin solo in the symphony's Andante.

~ Oberon