Oberon's Grove

Aase Nordmo-Løvberg & Kolbjørn Høiseth

Above: soprano Aase Nordmo-Løvberg

Ms. Nordmo-Løvberg spent most of her career at Oslo and Stockholm. She was a highly-regarded soprano who worked with top conductors (such as Karajan and Solti). She sang at the Vienna State Opera, and gave a dozen performances at The Met in 1959-1960 singing Elsa, Eva, Sieglinde, and Beethoven's Leonore.

Above: the Norwegian tenor Kolbjørn Høiseth

Mr. Høiseth's career took him to London, Berlin, Stockholm, Lyon, and Bordeaux as well as numerous German houses. He specialized in Wagner and Verdi, also appearing in WOZZECK, FIDELIO, and ELEKTRA.

In 1975, the tenor sang Froh in RHEINGOLD (in which role I saw him twice) at The Metropolitan Opera, where he also appeared as Siegmund in a single performance of WALKURE. His voice had a lyric quality, but also ample power when needed.

Aase Nordmo Løvberg & Kolbjørn Høiseth - WALKURE - ACT I scene - Stockholm 1963

I Never Dreamed

Joan Baez ~ I Never Dreamed You'd Leave In Summer

WOZZECK ~ Hamburg State Opera 1970

Above: Toni Blankenheim as Wozzeck

~ Author: Oberon

This specially-filmed production of Alban Berg's WOZZECK from the Hamburg Opera is sort of a companion piece to the same Company's MEISTERSINGER, which I raved about not long ago. Both performances seem to have been made expressly for television, and some of the same artists are involved, both in the production aspects and as singers.

While the MEISTERSINGER was ingeniously filmed in a vast studio space, WOZZECK has been filmed on location. The town seems to be an abandoned fortress area, very dreary; all the exterior scenes are heavy with palpable moisture, while the interiors are claustrophobic and sterile. The quality of the film is surprisingly high, as you can perhaps sense from the screen captures I have included here. 

The opera itself sounds simply thrilling; conductor Bruno Maderna (above) gives the score a darkling, lyrical glow whilst managing to honor all the angularity that makes it unique. The orchestra is superb, and the cast is fabulous.

Toni Blankenheim (above), a great Beckmesser in the MEISTERSINGER film, is just as impressive in the title-role of the Berg. His suffering is palpable, as is his inexpressible love for Marie. Harried and ordered about by the Captain and the Doctor, cheated on by Marie, and degraded by the Drum Major, Wozzeck is the epitome of the beaten man right from the start. Mr. Blankenheim makes him achingly real, and sings perfectly into the bargain.

Sena Jurinac (above) is a compellingly human Marie: vain, duplicitous, manipulative, and god-fearing all at once. She looks striking, although perhaps too neatly coiffed. I have never been a fan of Jurinac's singing, usually finding her strayings from pitch quite off-putting. Perhaps I should try listening to her again, because she certainly makes tremendous impression here. 

Above: Jurinac's flirtation - and eventual coupling - with the Drum Major (played by Richard Cassilly, above) sets up the opera's lurid climax.

It's a stellar cast all down the line: Hans Sotin (above), who went on to a long and glorious Wagnerian career, is simply perfect as the Doctor who uses Wozzeck as a guinea pig for his theoretical experiments in the field of nutrition...and urination. Sotin, who was my first full-Cycle Wotan/Wanderer, is chilling to watch and wonderful to hear.

As the Doctor's sidekick, the Captain, tenor Gerhard Unger (above, with Sotin) plays a character vastly different from his excellent David in the MEISTERSINGER film. Unger is a first-class character tenor...one who can really sing.

One of Wozzeck's few friends, the rather bumbling but good-natured Andres, is played by tenor Peter Haage. Blankenheim and Haage, above, in the desolate field of reeds, give a sense of the dreariness of their lives.

Later, at the tavern, Haage sings Andres's ballad in a happy/tipsy frame of mind (above).

At the crowded dance-hall/tavern, Marie's friend Margret (the very pretty Elisabeth Steiner, above) submits to Wozzeck's fondling whilst she sings her Swabia-lied.

In a tour de force performance, the great basso Kurt Moll (above) portrays the First Workman. He sings magnificently, and makes a most believable drunk. His boozing buddy, by the way, is none other than baritone Franz Grundheber.

Tenor Kurt Marschner (above, with Toni Blankenheim as Wozzeck) is a Gollum-like Madman; he gives off a disturbing air of being totally disconnected from reality.

Overall, this WOZZECK is thoroughly absorbing, both musically and dramatically. I've watched it twice already...and will come back to it, for sure.

As I have recently learned, the WOZZECK and MEISTERSINGER are part of a ten-DVD set of operas specially produced in Hamburg around 1970. I'll be having FREISCHUTZ (an opera I generally dislike) from the library next.

Author: Oberon

...à toi l'enfer!

Abandoned by Faust, and pregnant with his child, Marguerite goes to church to pray. There, she is menaced by the voice of Méphistophélès, the devil incarnate, who tells her she is going to Hell. 

FAUST ~ Church Scene - Gabriella Tucci & Justino Diaz - Met 1966

Teatro Nuovo ~ LA STRANIERA

Above: composer Vincenzo Bellini

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday July 17th, 2019 - Will Crutchfield's Teatro Nuovo presenting Bellini's rarely-performed opera LA STRANIERA at Rose Hall in the Jazz at Lincoln Center home-space. The semi-staged performance featured the following cast:

Alaide (La Straniera) - Christine Lyons, soprano
Isoletta - Alina Tamborini, soprano
Arturo - Derrek Stark, tenor
Valdeburgo - Steven LaBrie, baritone
Il Priore - Vincent Grana, bass
Montolino - Dorian McCall, bass-baritone
Osburgo - Isaac Frishman, tenor

Chorus and Orchestra of Teatro Nuovo
Will Crutchfield, maestro al cembalo
Jakob Lehmann, primo violino e capo d’orchestra

Written in 1829, LA STRANIERA was Bellini's fourth opera. It has, in the last 50 years, been briefly associated with such bel canto paragons as Renata Scotto and Montserrat Caballe. One of the Scotto performances, from Palermo 1968, was in my reel-to-reel collection for years; hearing the opera live tonight brought back memories of enjoying her persuasive styling of this music. 

In terms of plot, the opera borders on the risible: a queen (Alaide, known as La Straniera - the "Foreign Woman") has been living incognito in a hut by a lake. She has inspired the love of the local Count Arturo, who murders a supposed rival who is in fact Alaide's brother. Somehow, it's Alaide who is accused of having committed the murder; but at her trial, the dead man suddenly shows up, saying he had fallen into the lake. Things muddle on until the king's messenger appears to tell Alaide (turns out she's the Queen of France) that she must resume the throne as the 'other' queen has died. At this news, the still-smitten Count Arturo kills himself, and Alaide has the obligatory mad scene. As with so many operas written in this time period, the story line is merely an excuse for a lot of singing. 

Musically, LA STRANIERA has its moments but they are rather few and far between. There's an awful lot of filler, most of it pleasant enough...but it's music that rarely grips the imagination. There is no feeling of a musico-dramatic arc in the opera, but rather a series of disjointed scenes in which the story's convoluted twists and turns make minimal sense. Above all, if these old operas are to be revived, the singing must be spectacular.  

Vocally, the opening scene for Valdeburgo and Isoletta was really impressive and augured well for the rest of the evening. Baritone Steven LaBrie has a handsome voice, sizeable and expressive, with a gift for dramatic nuance. As Isoletta, a hapless bride-to-be, Alina Tamborini displayed a most interesting timbre, with a trace of flicker-vibrato that was very appealing. She has the wide range demanded by the composer - clear high notes and plush low ones - and a lovely trill.

Tenor Derrek Stark's sustained opening note of his long introductory recitative assured us that his would be a pleasing voice to hear in Arturo's plentiful music. Later, in uncomprehending anger, Mr. Stark unleashed a brilliant top note that sent wave of murmuring approval thru the hall. The tenor's flashy jacket was something of a visual distraction, though.

Just as the onstage harp solo announcing the appearance of La Straniera (Alaide) sounded, the man sitting behind us began rummaging thru his belongings; he continued, undeterred by dirty looks and shushing. I think he was looking for a sandwich. This interruption was the beginning of ongoing deterrents to my concentration.

Soprano Christine Lyons's offstage opening lines did not intrigue; her voice had a throaty quality which - luckily - would soon become less evident. As the first act unfolded, the soprano produced many fine passages, with a good feel for dynamics and for the text. In her scenes with Mr. LaBrie and Mr. Stark, Ms. Lyons offered expressive singing, with an appealing sense of the character's vulnerability.

Having been accused of murdering Valdeburgo, Alaide has a 'mad scene' in which she incoherently tries to explain to the angered townspeople why she is holding a bloody sword. The vocal demands here, which come in fits and starts, brought out a weighted chest voice from the soprano that seemed better suited to verismo than bel canto.

While all this was happening, the hall had become freezing due to air conditioning overkill. A woman in the front row kept checking her phone, the screen flashing brightly. In front of us were a whispering couple. Across the aisle, a squeaky chair added an unwanted obbligato to the music. And the young primo violino e capo d’orchestra, seated at audience level, was animated to the point of distraction. 

Midway thru the intermission, we decided that Bellini had delighted us long enough.

~ Oberon