Oberon's Grove

Guadalupe Barrientos ~ Esser madre è un inferno

Argentine mezzo-soprano Guadalupe Barrientos (above) performing "Esser madre è un inferno" from Francesco Cilea's opera L'ARLESIANA at the Cardiff Singer Of The World competition in 2019.

Watch and listen here.

Bach vs. the French with the Orchestra of St. Luke’s

Above: Théotime Langlois de Swarte; performance photo by Jennifer Taylor

~ Author: Lane Raffaldini Rubin

Tuesday June 10th, 2025 - Tonight the Orchestra of St. Luke’s presented the second in its four-part Bach Festival 2025 at Carnegie’s Zankel Hall. This performance, titled “J.S. Bach and the French Baroque” was led by Théotime Langlois de Swarte, the same esteemed French violinist who led Les Arts Florissants back in April for the last performance that I covered for Oberon’s Grove.

Twenty or so OSL musicians—strings, lute, harpsichord, a couple flutes, and a percussionist—joined Langlois de Swarte in music of Jean-Baptiste Lully, Jean-Marie Leclair, Jean-Féry Rebel, Nicola Matteis II, and Johann Sebastian Bach.

Rather than Bach, however, the music of the French composers—especially their multi-movement dance suites—was the focus of the evening. In his program notes, Langlois de Swarte described Bach’s connection of these works as one of “curiosity”, but did it run any deeper?

The concert opened with Lully’s suite from the comedy-ballet Le Bourgeois gentilhomme of 1670, which served the purpose of providing a French example of a French dance suite—a form that J.S. Bach and composers across northern Europe would employ for several decades to come. Like all French dance suites, this one starts with an ouverture characterized by snappy double-dotted rhythms and a sparkling fugue section.

The OSL played this music with discipline and tameness but relished several picturesque moments in subsequent movements of the suite. Lully’s knowing smile shines through as a hushed passage builds to a full, swaying beat drop. In another movement they lent a sublime sound to a series of pastoral swells that evoked a country sunrise. Langlois de Swarte is the best bow in the Baroque violin biz and he used it to paint a wide range of colors.

Above: performance photo by Jennifer Taylor

Lully’s suite was followed by Leclair’s Violin Concerto in A minor—meant to mirror the A-minor concerto by Bach on the second half of the program. Langlois de Swarte, a champion of Leclair’s music, has recorded this concerto alongside those of Vivaldi and Locatelli. It’s in that Italian environment, rather than this Bach-centric one, that Leclair’s concerto finds a better home. The principal melodic themes of the first and third movements closely resemble those of Vivaldi’s A minor concerto from the early collection L’estro armonico and the relationship of the soloist to the continuo and the rest of the ensemble hews closer to the Italian concerto tradition as well.

One clear thread, however, did link Leclair’s concerto to the music of Matteis and Bach that followed: the use of fast string crossings up and down the range of the solo violin. This kind of violin writing is still common in the twenty-first century, but it was developed during the seventeenth century and flows naturally from the violin’s particular configuration of strings and gravity-loaded bowing.

This string-crossing music even has a French name—bariolage—a term which came up repeatedly in my research of the evening’s program. Embarrassingly, despite having played the violin since age nine, I had never before encountered the name of this technique.

Leclair’s concerto was followed by a dance suite by Jean-Féry Rebel, a student of Lully who composed for the court of Louis XV. The piece was largely unremarkable but featured a number of syncopated rhythms and sudden metrical changes.

The second half of the program began with Langlois de Swarte in the wings slowly walking to the front of the stage as he played Nicola Matteis II’s unaccompanied Fantasia No. 2. The gesture was a bit hokey and confusing to those in the mezzanine who did not have a clear view of the source of the music but Matteis’s piece was the highlight of the evening. It was a showcase of bariolage and presaged the magnificent chaconne from Bach’s Partita in D-minor for solo violin.

Matteis’s music was also new to me. An excellent recording by the ensemble Gli Incogniti titled “Matteis: False Consonances of Melancholy”, which exhibits the emotional and sonorous range of his works, makes a strong case for further listening.

Langlois de Swarte led the OSL players without pause into a transcription of Bach’s chorale Auf Meinen Lieben Gott from the cantata Bringet dem Herrn Ehre seines Namens. The OSL played it gorgeously, reverentially savoring Bach’s unmatched hymnal language. But it was incongruous on the program, bearing no relation to Matteis’s fantasy and serving as the evening’s sole choral and sacred work.

This was followed by Bach’s Violin Concerto in A-minor, whose first movement was conspicuously boring and unlike the music that preceded it. The second movement, played with fleet nonchalance by the group, benefits from an interestingly persistent rising figure in the low strings, while the third movement features several striking passages of—you guessed it—bariolage.

Langlois de Swarte concluded the program with the two most recognizable movements from Bach’s orchestral suites (the “Air” from the Suite No. 3 in D major and the “Badinerie” from the Suite No. 2 in B minor). The OSL was at its best in the “Air”, which they played with impressive transparency to reveal Bach’s simple mechanics of interwoven lines.

If Bach’s concerto was meant to mirror Leclair’s concerto on tonight’s program, then these two suite movements were meant to mirror Lully’s and Rebel’s dance suites. The fact that the French examples were played in their entirety, while Bach’s were heavily excerpted, shortchanges Bach at best and argues that Bach’s dance suites were inferior at worst. Langlois de Swarte introduced the Bach movements as “treats”, betraying his favor for the French works.

Unfortunately, the evening’s program did not convey the relation of Bach’s music to the francocentric milieu in which it evolved. It was at times puzzling and represented a far weaker curation compared to Langlois de Swarte’s ingenious programming with Les Arts Florissants situating Vivaldi’s Four Seasons in its own mise-en-scène. I can’t blame Langlois de Swarte for indulging his French preferences tonight, but the diehards who came to celebrate Bach at OSL’s Bach Fest just might.

~ Lane Raffaldini Rubin

(Performance photos by Jennifer Taylor, courtesy of Emily Walsh/21C Media Group)

A MET Opera GIOCONDA from 1967

Above: Renata Tebaldi

An exciting performance of Ponchielli's LA GIOCONDA given at the Metropolitan Opera House given on September 21st, 1997 and recorded via the house wire; this means you will sometimes hear the stage director speaking.

Listen here. 

This was one of Tebaldi's best Giocondas in a two-season Met run. My favorite Italian basso, Bonaldo Giaiotti, is Alvise; and the performance marks the Met debut of another wonderful basso, Paul Plishka, who went on to a long Met career. Of special note is the announced replacement of the scheduled La Cieca, Belén Amparan, by Rosaline Elias. Roz's usual role in GIOCONDA was Laura Adorno, but I believe this was the only time - or possibly the second time - she sang La Cieca, making the most of "Voce di donna" with her sumptuous voice (at 27:15).  

 CAST:

La Gioconda: Renata Tebaldi; Enzo: Flaviano Labò; Laura: Biserka Cvejic; Barnaba: Sherrill Milnes; Alvise: Bonaldo Giaiotti; La Cieca: Rosalind Elias; Zuàne: Russell Christopher; Isèpo: Robert Schmorr; Monk: Paul Plishka (debut) Steersman: Nicola Barbusci

Conductor: Fausto Cleva

Arturo Chacón-Cruz ~ Schubert's Serenade

Tenor Arturo Chacón-Cruz sings Schubert's Serenade in Spanish.

Listen here.

ASO ~ Strauss's GUNTRAM @ Carnegie Hall

Onstage: Angela Meade, John Matthew Myers, Maestro Botstein, Nate Mattingly; photo by Matt Dine

~Author: Oberon

Friday June 6th, 2025 - The American Symphony Orchestra presenting a concert performance of Richard Strauss's first opera, GUNTRAM, at Carnegie Hall. Leon Botstein was on the podium, and the ASO were joined by the Bard Festival Chorale, under the direction of James Bagwell.

CAST: 

Angela Meade, Soprano (Freihild)
John Matthew Myers, Tenor (Guntram)
Kevin Short, Bass-Baritone (The Old Duke)
Alexander Birch Elliott, Baritone (Duke Robert)
Nate Mattingly, Bass-Baritone (Friedhold, a singer)
Rodell Rosel, Tenor (The Duke's Jester)
Katharine Goeldner, Mezzo-Soprano (Old Woman)
Bernard Holcomb, Tenor (Old Man)

At the time of the GUNTRAM premiere in 1894, Strauss had already achieved popular success with his tone poems Don Juan and Death and Transfiguration. But the composer's first venture into opera was judged uninspiring by audience and critics alike. In his later years, the composer referred to his first opera as his "child of sorrow."

GUNTRAM is the story of two men - the minstrel-knight Guntram and the tyrant Duke Robert - both of whom love the duke's wife, Freihild. Having saved Freihild from drowning herself, Guntram is invited to the ducal court, where his song in praise of peace and denouncing tyranny seeks to incite rebellion. Duke Robert attacks the minstrel, who murders the duke. Guntram is denounced by the Elder Freihold for his sin. Freihild's arrival brings Guntram to the realization that he has killed Duke Robert out of romantic jealousy rather than in the name of some lofty cause. Guntram renounces the brotherhood of minstrel-knights, and takes leave of Freihild to repent for his crime in solitude as a hermit.

Whatever listeners may feel about this opera, which musically looks back on Wagner's LOHENGRIN and TANNHAUSER whilst at times suggesting FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN and other Strauss masterworks to come, it is loaded with gorgeous music and, in its 140-minute arc, there is never a dull moment.

The players of the ASO immediately lured me in with the opera's long prelude, which starts very delicately; gentle wind themes emerge, and shimmering strings and mellow brass fall pleasingly on the ear. An ethereal violin solo from concert-master Cyrus Beroukhim (photo above by Matt Dine) signals his ongoing importance as the score unfolds. Broad, sweeping music transforms into a lyrical, pastoral segment before a burst of animation introduces the singers.  

Tenor John Matthew Myers launched his thrilling evening of singing with passionate lyricism. Mr. Myers has taken on such arduous roles as Bacchus (at La Fenice) and the Emperor in FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN (at San Francisco Opera) whilst covering demanding parts like Peter Grimes, Walther von Stoltzing, and Herman in PIQUE-DAME at The Met. As the evening progressed, a voice in my head kept screaming: "This is our next Lohengrin!" Tonight, Mr. Myers scored a triumph at Carnegie Hall, winning a most enthusiastic ovation at the end. 

As GUNTRAM's opening scene continues, we hear from one of my favorite mezzos, Katherine Goeldner (a delicious Carmen at NYC Opera) and tenor Bernard Holcomb as an Old Couple. Katherine is strikingly lovely to watch and hear, and when others were singing, she seemed engaged in the unfolding story. We also meet bass-baritone Nate Mattingly, stepping in for an ailing colleague in the role of Friedhold...we will hear more from Mr. Mattingly in the opera's final act. As the opera moves onward, men from the chorus will come forward in small ensemble roles, always effective in voice and personality.

Mr. Myers now has a Lohengrin-like narrative wherein his dynamic range, the beauty and power of his voice, and his expressive gifts are all impressively on display: such an engaging singer. 

Another group of singers now appear: Angela Meade as Freihild - in a blindingly bright golden gown - with Alexander Birch Elliott as her husband, Duke Robert, Rodell Rosel as the court jester, and the always marvelous basso Kevin Short as the Old Duke.

As the opera continues, it becomes evident that Maestro Botstein sometimes lets the orchestra play too loudly, causing the singers to have to over-sing. Ms. Meade's voice always penetrates, and if her high notes were a bit screamy at first, she soon settled in to some of the best singing I have ever heard from her. Meanwhile, reminders of FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN and ROSENKAVALIER keep cropping up in the score.

Mr. Myers continues to amaze and delight us with his ardent, exciting vocalism, which also has a poetic air to it. There's an all-hands-on-deck passage where everyone sings at once, but it's brief. Then Kevin Short pours out his burnished tone, the jester has a silly moment, and a trio for Mssrs. Myers, Birch Elliott, and Short makes for some big singing. The chorus gives Act I a grand finish.

The principals leave the stage for a brief break, and then Act II (set at the Duke's court)  commences in a joyful, dance-like mood. Harp, chorus, and a male quartet of choristers have a scene, with interjections from Mr. Rosel. Ms. Meade and Mr. Short are joined by Mr. Myers, whose singing continues to amaze us. Maestro Botstein, seated and with his back to the audience, still occasionally allows orchestral volume swamp the singers, with who he has no eye contact.

Mr. Myers (above with the Maestro; photo by Matt Dine) now gives us some of the finest singing of the evening; his beautiful lied opens with harp accompaniment; this is a big sing, a flow of melody...truly outstandingly sung. Then the music turns stormy; Duke Robert meets his end (we could have wished for more vocal opportunities for the excellent Alexander Birch Elliott before his character's demise). Kevin Short as the Old Duke now has a splendid passage before the stage is left to Ms. Meade.

The soprano (above with the Maestro, photo by Matt Dine) delivers some of the best singing I've ever heard from her in her sad song, introduced by a somber clarinet theme. In the music, premonitions of Strauss's FRAU and ELEKTRA yet to come can be detected. Ms. Meade proves herself a persuasive Straussian: she might make an excellent Dyer's Wife. 

Following a blessedly brief intermission, Act III opens with austere brass chords. A tone poem emerges, with the chorus chanting in Latin. Guntram and Freihild are alone onstage; the music becomes tempestuous, and the tenor sings of his anguish whilst the soprano continues in true Strauss mode. Mr. Myers' voice is so perfect for this music. Ms. Meade sings with increasing urgency, the orchestra playing grandly, the string basses digging in as both singers give it their all. 

Now Freihold, in the person of Nate Mattingly, arrives to chastise Guntram for the murder of Duke Robert. Mr. Mattingly sings handsomely. The conductor gets brass-happy but both Mssrs. Mattingly and Myers are unfazed, singing impressively.

Beautiful cello playing and shimmering violins now sound as Guntram faces his fate with resolve: he will withdraw from the world and live out his days as a penitent hermit. Mr. Myers really connects to his listeners here, his vocal generosity is ever-fascinating in its power and sheer beauty. 

Amidst the hearty applause that greeted the bowing singers at the end, the tenor was lauded with special enthusiasm, deservedly so. I had hoped to congratulate him in person at the stage door, and to see Ms. Goeldner and Mr. Short again. But after a long wait, only the amiable basso had emerged.

(Performance photo by Matt Dine, courtesy of Pascal Nadon; click on each image to enlarge)

~ Oberon