Above: tenor Wolfgang Windgassen
Maestro Georges Sébastian leading the Orchestre National de l'ORTF in a concert of scenes from Wagner's PARSIFAL on March 17th, 1964, at the Salle Pleyel, Paris. Parsifal is sung by Wolfgang Windgassen, Gurnemanz by Gottlob Frick, and Kundry by Isabel Strauss.
Watch and listen here.
Above: Sterling Hyltin as the Sugar Plum Fairy in Balanchine's NUTCRACKER
Author: Oberon
Sunday December December 4th, 2022 - Today we bade farewell to one of New York City Ballet's loveliest stars: Sterling Hyltin. A native of Texas, Sterling joined the Company in 2003, and four years later she attained the rank of Principal: such a rapid ascent!
Among the many ballets in which Sterling has moved and delighted me over the years are Balanchine's APOLLO, BRAHMS-SCHOENBERG QUARTET, COPPELIA, DUO CONCERTANT, NUTCRACKER (she excelled both as Sugar Plum and Dewdrop), LIEBESLIEDER WATZES, MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM (she was a perfect Hermia, and I wish she had done Titania!), RUBIES in JEWELS (where she scintillated, but could we not have had her in EMERALDS as well?), SCOTCH SYMPHONY, LA VALSE, and the Stravinsky "leotard" ballets.
In the Robbins repertoire, she was particularly luminous in AFTERNOON OF A FAUN, DANCES AT A GATHERING, OPUS 19/THE DREAMER, and IN THE NIGHT; and she displayed a gift for comedy in THE CONCERT. She danced the lead in the Peter Martins productions of SWAN LAKE and SLEEPING BEAUTY, and created the role of Juliet in the premiere of the Martins ROMEO & JULIET. Sterling has also danced in ballets by Wheeldon, Ratmansky, Millepied, and Justin Peck.
Here is a collection of images of Sterling in some of her most-admired roles:
SYMPHONY IN THREE MOVEMENTS, with Amar Ramasar; photo by Pau Kolnik
As Aurora in SLEEPING BEAUTY
RUBIES, with Gonzalo Garcia; photo by Paul Kolnik
As Odette in SWAN LAKE; photo by Paul Kolnik
In SYMPHONY IN THREE MOVEMENTS, with Taylor Stanley; photo by Paul Kolnik
DUO CONCERTANT with Robbie Fairchild
In Robbins' DANCES AT A GATHERING with Tyler Angle; photo by Erin Baiano
With Robbie Fairchild in STRAVINSKY VIOLIN CONCERTO
With Gonzalo Garcia in Robbins' OPUS 19/THE DREAMER
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It was as the Sugar Plum Fairy that Sterling made her farewell appearance today. Rarely does a dancer at NYC Ballet make her farewell dancing a complete role in a full-length ballet. But Sterling's Sugar Plum is a role closely identified with her, and it made for a perfect way for her to take leave of the Company.
The performance got off to an exhilarating start with Andrew Litton's fresh take on the overture; the layers of orchestral 'voices' were clearer than ever, and notably, the violas had a chance to shine. The curtain then rose on a performance in which only a very few of the dancers were familiar to me; this in contrast to the days when I was going to NYC Ballet often and knew every single person on the stage.
In the party scene, Mary Elizabeth Sell as a lovely Frau Stahlbaum and Sean Suozzi's mercurial Drosselmeyer were the only people I recognized. When the guests had departed, from the pit came the ravishing sound of Kurt Nikkanen's violin, playing the entr'acte as sweetly as he has done so many times for me thru the years. Bravo!
As the Battle of the Mice was won (and lost), a long stretch of my favorite music in the score commenced, the orchestra playing sumptuously as the Stahlbaum's drawing room became a snowy landscape. Not a single Snowflake did I recognize, but I must here mention Titus Landegger's elegant performance as the Nutcracker Prince: the noblest interpretation of the role since Austin Bachman's.
During the intermission, I re-connected with some of my longtime ballet buddies, and then we returned to our seats to await Sterling Hyltin's entrance. A thrilling roar of applause greeted the blonde beauty as she wafted onto the stage, the very epitome of grace. The Sugar Plum Fairy's solo could be considered Sterling's signature piece: her musicality and nuanced delivery of every step seem to define the word "ballerina".
In the various dances that follow, I was again reminded of how out of touch I am with the current roster of dancers: only Gil Bolden III (Mother Ginger), Harrison Coll - a fantastic Candy Cane - and Indiana Woodward as a scintillating Dewdrop were was familiar to me.
Leading off with Hot Chocolate were the lively pairing of Jacqueline Bologna and Victor Abreu; Mr. Abreu was stepping into role this evening, and he made a handsome cavalier. Alexa Maxwell was a lithe and sultry Arabian seductress, Sebastian Villarini-Velez a spirited Tea, and Olivia MacKinnon a charming Marzipan. Mr. Bolden's Mother Ginger was a hit, followed by a Waltz of the Flowers in which not a single flower was known to me.
Now Sterling and her cavalier, Andrew Veyette, took the stage for the pas de deux; the entire audience seemed to be holding its collective breath as we watched Sterling in this iconic adagio for the last time. Her two dazzling flights to Andrew's shoulder drew delighted screams from the packed house, and she polished off her triumph with a perfect balance. The couple then swept on to the allegro, brilliantly executed, finishing to a torrent of applause and bravos.
After the normal curtain calls, Sterling appeared onstage alone. The crowd went wild, of course, and then she rushed to the side of the stage and slipped off to greet Peter Martins. Clambering back onto the stage, Sterling greeted colleagues and friends, one by one or in small groups, as the applause rolled on. She seemed to take her time with each person; among the parade were the much-loved Maria Kowroski and Robbie Fairchild, and the recently-retired Gonzalo Garcia. At last, Sterling's husband and tiny, adorable daughter came on.
Sterling then took her final bows - we did not want to let her go! - and then made a lovely farewell manège, finishing off with her trademark grand jeté. The house exploded in another round of cheers.
A few years ago, the morning after Sterling had danced one of her many Sugar Plums, she posted a charming story on Facebook. She has just made her entrance and was about to move downstage when one of the petite Angels looked up at her and said, "You are so beautiful!"
~ Oberon
Above: Günther Groissböck as Philip II and Peter Mattei as Posa in the Met's DON CARLO
Saturday December 3rd, 2022 matinee - For years, Verdi's DON CARLO was my favorite opera. I fell under its spell while listening to the famed (but wildly uneven) Met broadcast of 1964 with Leonie Rysanek, Irene Dalis, Franco Corelli, Nicolae Herlea, Giorgio Tozzi, and Hermann Uhde.
I have always preferred the 4-act Italian version of this opera to the original 5-act French. Right from the start, the Italian setting creates a regal mood with the purple-toned horns. I'll never forget the chorus intoning "Carlo, il sommo imperatore" and the voice of the young Justino Diaz in the role of the mysterious Friar singing "Ei voleva regnare sul mondo...", even though nearly 60 years have passed since that memorable afternoon.
This afternoon, a magnificent Greek basso named Alexandros Stavrakakis (above) opened the opera with his grand voicing of the Friar's lines. Winner of the 2019 Tchaikovsky International Competition, Mr. Stavrakakis filled the big hall with his rich, plushy tone which recalls such illustrious bassos as Christoff, Ghiaurov, and Sergej Koptchak. I certainly hope we will be hearing more of this Greek paragon at The Met very soon.
Rafael Davila replaced the originally-announced Russell Thomas as Don Carlo today. Mr. Davila has a nice spinto sound with a trace of a sob at times, and with powerful top notes. He could be persuasive while singing softly, though for the most part he simply poured out the tone.
Mezzo-soprano Yulia Matochkina has a well-projected voice that seems comfortable in the Met space. She handled the fancy-work of the Canzone del Velo quite well, making much of the second verse; joining her in harmonized passages was Erika Baikoff, an appropriately-cast soprano Teobaldo. But the bombastic sounds coming from the pit were of no help to anyone.
The music of Elisabetta seemed to suit Angela Meade far better than some of the bel canto roles she has sung in New York City, wherein her fast vibrato often prevented her from clearly articulating the coloratura passages. She was quite fine in the duet with Carlo, where the passion seething under her courtly veneer was evident. The haunting farewell to the Countess of Aremberg was instinctively well-phrased, though on the highest notes, the tonal flutter sometimes reappeared.
Günther Groissböck's Philip II made a vivid impression. Together with Peter Mattei's Posa, they made the great scene between king and courtier a riveting experience. If only they had had a first-rate Maestro! Rizzi upped the volume in all the wrong places, trying to turn their scene into a shouting match. But the singers were having none of it; they simply stuck to their music-making, refusing to bark or bellow. Mr. Groissböck had a magnificent moment when he cried out his anguish over what his son had stolen from him.
Mr. Mattei's Posa was on the same exalted level as his Amfortas, Onegin, and Wozzeck. His elegant singing of "Carlo ch'e sol..." during his audience with the Queen fell on the ear like a balm. The entire scene with the king found Mr. Mattei singing superbly and exploring every nuance in the music to underscore the character's innate nobility of mind.
I was so fed up with the Rizzi mess that - despite wishing to hear both Groissböck and Mattei in their great scenes later in the opera, and to encounter John Relyea's Inquisitor - I decided to leave. At any rate, this spared me enduring the most offensive scene in all opera: the Auto-da-fé.
Metropolitan Opera House
Saturday December 3rd, 2022
DON CARLO
Giuseppe Verdi
Don Carlo...............Rafael Davila
Elizabeth of Valois.....Angela Meade
Rodrigo.................Peter Mattei
Princess Eboli..........Yulia Matochkina
Philip II...............Günther Groissböck
Grand Inquisitor........John Relyea
Celestial Voice.........Toni Marie Palmertree
Monk....................Alexandros Stavrakakis
Tebaldo.................Erika Baikoff
Count of Lerma..........Alok Kumar
Countess of Aremberg....Anne Dyas
Flemish Deputy..........Vladyslav Buialskyi
Flemish Deputy..........Le Bu
Flemish Deputy..........Jesus Vicente Murillo
Flemish Deputy..........Samuel J. Weiser
Flemish Deputy..........Luis Orozco
Flemish Deputy..........Joseph Lim
Royal Herald............Joshua Blue
Conductor...............Carlo Rizzi
~ Oberon
I love the marimba, and so I was delighted to find this rendition of Camille Saint-Saëns' Danse Macabre arranged for marimba and piano. The artists are Adélaïde Ferrière (marimba) and Fanny Azzuro (piano), and the arrangement is by Mlle. Ferrière. The recording dates from 2018.
Watch and listen here.
Above: Hélène Grimaud in a Benjamin Chasteen portrait
Thursday December 1st, 2022 - The marvelous French pianist Hélène Grimaud offered a unique program - sumptuously played - to a packed Carnegie Hall this evening. Waiting for the concert to begin, I was recalling the last time I saw Ms. Grimaud, playing Ravel with the Orchestra of St. Luke's on this very stage in 2019, winning a delirious ovation. She drew a similar audience reaction this evening, from her warmly-greeted entrance to a four-encore finale where the crowd simply wouldn't let her go.
The first half of the program was unusually structured: Ms. Grimaud, looking glamorous in trousers and a golden-hued top, seated herself at the Steinway and regaled us with a series of works by Silvestrov, Debussy, Chopin, and Satie - some familiar, some rare - which were played with only the briefest of pauses between pieces. For nearly an hour, Ms. Grimaud cast a magical spell over us whilst the renowned Carnegie acoustic assured that even the most whispered pianissimo passages floated sublimely on the air.
The hushed opening passages of Valentin Silvestrov's Bagatelle I immediately established a mood of reverence in the Hall. Ms. Grimaud, whose recent Deutsche Grammophon release The Messenger features works by the beloved 85-year-old Ukranian composer, followed this with Debussy's rippling Arabesque No. 1 before returning to Silvestrov for his Bagatelle II, wherein the music's sense of mystery displayed the peerless Grimaud control of dynamics. We are now enthralled.
The rolling left-hand figurations of Satie's Gnossienne No. 4 and the pensive moodiness of his Gnossienne No. 1 stood either side of Chopin's Nocturne in E-Minor, Op. 72, No. 1, with its gorgeous sense of longing. Then more Satie - "En y regardant à deux fois" from Pièces froides, No. 2, which has a gentle sway and a hushed finish.
Elegant, then more animated, Claude Debussy's La plus que lente has a lovely sense of flow, and a poetic ending. The came two of Chopin's best-loved works, both in A-Minor: the Mazurka, Op. 17, No. 4 (which at first does not sound anything like a mazurka) and the Waltz , Op. 34, No. 2, with its haunting dynamic shifts.
Familiarity will never prevent me from loving Debussy's "Clair de lune"; its timeless beauty, and the quirky restlessness of its central section, seemed fresh yet again in Ms. Grimaud's hands. From its quiet start, Debussy's Rêverie floats on a sea of dreams before a more impassioned passage springs up. It ends with a quiet sense of urgency. And then, with Satie's brief "Passer" from Pièces froides, Ms. Grimaud brought this extraordinary musical journey to an end. What a great pleasure to have experienced it: to have been transported out of the darkness and encroaching despair of daily life by this sorceress of the keyboard.
Following the interval, Robert Schumann's Kreisleriana received a performance of glowing intensity from Ms. Grimaud. Though this demanding Schumann score has never been a favorite of mine, there was no denying the perfection of the Grimaud interpretation, wherein the contrasting movements of exuberant virtuosity and touching lyricism were perfectly set forth.
~ Oberon