Oberon's Grove

Browning Mummery

Tenor Browning Mummery was born at Melbourne in 1888. He worked as a mechanic while taking singing lessons, and eventually made his debut with a traveling Italian opera company as Faust. He went to study at London, and appeared there first with the British National Opera Company. From 1925-1928, Mummery sang at Covent Garden, where he had a particular success as the Italian Singer in ROSENKAVALIER.

Dame Nellie Melba invited the tenor to sing with her during her 1924 tour of Australia, and she selected him to sing the role of Rodolfo in BOHEME at Covent Garden opposite her Mimi in 1926.

Mummery appeared in London in operetta and musical comedy, and he sang in Promenade concerts. In 1928 he toured Australia again, with the Melba-Williamson Company. He toured the USA from 1929-1931, and sang on NBC Radio in New York City. In 1933, Mummery appeared the musical film Evensong with Evelyn Laye. Thereafter, he returned to Australia, where he continued to sing in opera and concert. Later he became a vocal pedagogue in Melbourne, and then in Canberra, where he died in 1974 at the age of 85.

Throughout his career, Mummery sang lyric-tenor roles in MADAME BUTTERFLY, MAGIC FLUTE, BOHEME, TOSCA, and as David in DIE MEISTERSINGER; he worked with such great conductors as Sir John Barbirolli, Sir Malcom Sargent, and Sir Thomas Beecham.

Browning Mummery - TOSCA aria

Kirsten Flagstad as Sieglinde

Kirsten Flagstad - Du bist der lenz - WALKURE

Carol Neblett Has Passed Away

One afternoon, while I was working at Tower Records, the phone in the opera room rang. I hated taking phone calls, but it was part of the job. "Is this the opera department?" a woman's voice asked; I answered in the affirmative. "Are you an opera-lover?" Oh boy, another whack job. "Yes," I said impatiently. "You might remember me...my name is Carol Neblett." Relief, and excitement: "Yes, Miss Neblett...I was at your City Opera debut and I remember it like it was yesterday." "Oh, how sweet of you to say that...!"

It's true, too. Her NYCO debut - which was in fact her operatic debut - as Musetta in LA BOHEME in 1969 was simply electrifying. Not only was she a knock-out gorgeous woman with a figure to die for and a mane of rich blonde hair, but the voice was staggeringly large, luminous, and sensuous, with vibrant and blooming top notes. As Musetta, she received three ovations in the course of ten minutes: one after the Waltz, the second after the big ensemble that follows, and the third - so massive I thought the roof might cave in - when she took a solo bow before the curtain.

I took this photo of Carol Neblett at a Promenade event at New York City Opera where she sang "Depuis le jour" from LOUISE.

Carol went on to sing numerous performances with New York City Opera, and I well remember her in the dual roles of Margherita/Helen of Troy in the sensational Tito Capobiano production of Boito's MEFISTOFELE, opposite Norman Treigle's riveting portrayal of the devil. The ovations at that production's premiere were epic, and it put the opera back on the map, with NYCO getting a lot of mileage out of it in the ensuing years.

Above: Carol Neblett in a 1970 photo by Bill Hendrickson

In 1973, Ms. Neblett was a glamourous Ariadne - both vocally and physically - in NYCO's 1973 production of ARIADNE AUF NAXOS; this production, sung in English/German and brilliantly performed down to the tiniest roles, made ARIADNE my favorite opera...which it remains to this day. Carol's Yaroslavna (PRINCE IGOR) and Donna Elvira (DON GIOVANNI) at NYCO were both very finely sung and acted.

Carol Neblett - Mi tradi - DON GIOVANNI - NYCO 10~29~72

Ms. Neblett made her Met debut in 1979 in Jean-Piere Ponnelle's much-maligned production of DER FLIEGENDE HOLLANDER. She gave 85 performances with the Company, at Lincoln Center and on tour. I saw her as a very exciting Tosca at a matinee in 1981, opposite Jose Carreras and Sherrill Milnes. She looked striking and sang generously as Amelia in BALLO IN MASCHERA opposite Carlo Bergonzi in 1983. I also saw her on The Met stage as Alice Ford in FALSTAFF and in a tour performance as Donna Elvira in Boston in 1981. 

Meanwhile, in other parts of the forest, the soprano took on such roles as Turandot, Minnie of the Golden West, Aida, and Norma. Her singing became erratic over time, and she later admitted to alcohol addiction, from which she made a recovery. But her voice remained large and impressive through thick and thin:

Carol Neblett - Es gibt ein Reich ~ ARIADNE AUF NAXOS - from radio concert

Carol Neblett - In Questa Reggia ~ TURANDOT - Pittsburgh 1978

Carol had her fun-loving side, too...here she is on the Johnny Carson Show. The voice is prodigious.

My final encounter with Carol Neblett in performance came unexpectedly: one morning in October 1992, I was leafing thru the Sunday edition of the Hartford Courant and noticed, purely by chance, that Carol was scheduled to sing a recital at Hartt College that afternoon. On a beautiful Autumn day, I walked for over half-an-hour to the hall, having no idea what to expect.

Carol appeared onstage, looked older of course, but still mighty attractive. After some Baroque songs, she sang a really beautiful Brahms set, then the Song to the Moon from RUSALKA, and three gorgeously-done Strauss songs. After the intermission, she sang some very lovely Debussy songs, and then gave a powerhouse performance of Chimène's magnificent aria "Pleurez, pleurez mes yeux" from Massenet's LE CID. The printed program concluded with some Spanish songs which suited her well. She sang two encores: the "Vissi d'arte" from TOSCA and "If I Loved You".

I can't remember now why I didn't go to say hello to her after the recital, and I really regret that I didn't. Over the ensuing years, memories of her cropped up quite often - especially of the glorious Musetta-debut. And then, that day at Tower, the phone rang.

Kitty Carlisle

When I was a kid, everybody knew who Kitty Carlisle was: a panelist on the popular TV game show To Tell The Truth. But I had no idea she was also a singer. Born in New Orleans in 1910, she had studied voice there and subsequently appeared in musicals - and even as Carmen (in Salt Lake City). She made several musically-oriented films, including the Marx Brothers' A NIGHT AT THE OPERA.

In the summer of 1966, my parents took me for our annual summer vacation to Saratoga where Eugene Ormandy was conducting a concert performance of FLEDERMAUS with the Philadelphia Orchestra. The main attraction for me was the presence of Hilde Gueden, Roberta Peters, and Barry Morell in the cast. Kitty's being cast as Prince Orlofsky seemed like a gimmick to me, but she actually sang very well. 

Above: as Prince Orlofsky, in a Louis Melançon/Met Opera portrait

Later that same year, Kitty Carlisle made her Met debut as Orlofsky. I sent her a congratulatory letter and received the card at the top of this article in return. She sang the role fifteen times with The Met, at Lincoln Center, on tour, and in the Parks Series. In 1980 she appeared in the role for the final time for Beverly Sills' farewell gala at the New York State Theater. 

Kitty dated George Gershwin and married Moss Hart. She served for twenty years on the New York State Council on the Arts, and was seen often among audiences at Lincoln Center events. I saw her once, walking alone across The Met lobby: she must have been 80 or so, but her erect posture, jet black hair, and elegant outfit gave her a timeless air. Kitty Carlisle passed away in 2007.

And yes, she really could sing:

Kitty Carlisle - Vilja ~ THE MERRY WIDOW

Huang|Noseda|New York Philharmonic

Above: The New York Philharmonic's concertmaster Frank Huang

~ Author: Oberon

Wednesday November 22nd, 2017 - The announcement of the death of the great Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky coloured my entire day. It came, by unhappy coincidence, on the anniversary of the assassination of John F Kennedy which took place in 1963: the most disturbing world-event of my youth. That brutal murder - and its aftermath - I still remember so clearly.

This evening, I went as planned to  The New York Philharmonic's program of Russian and French works. Though I was in the mood for darker, more soul-reaching music, the program - magnificently played - did lift my spirits, if only temporarily.

As far as I know, Mr. Hvorostovsky appeared with The New York Philharmonic for only one program: in 1998, he sang Mahler's Kindertotenlieder with the orchestra. I was there, and was swept away by the peerless beauty of his voice and by his deeply poetic interpretation. How I wished he could have been with us again tonight. But the program did commence with music from Hvorostovsky's homeland: a suite from Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov's opera The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh. It ended up being my best-loved work of the evening and it was brilliantly delivered by the Philharmonic players, under Gianandrea Noseda's baton.

Hearing music from The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh brought back memories of a day in 1983 when I stepped off a bus in Boston on a Sunday afternoon and began walking towards the opera house where the Rimsky-Korsakov opera was being performed at a matinee. Suddenly the sky opened up; no store that was open sold umbrellas. I made a run for it, but was literally drenched from head to toe by the time I got to the theatre. Needless to say, I did not enjoy the performance at all, and left at intermission...still soaking wet.

The suite from The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh is in four movements, depicting episodes from the opera: a Hymn to Nature, Fevronia's wedding procession, the invasion of the Tatars and the subsequent battle, and Fevronia's Ascension to the Invisible. It begins on a sombre note, with harps adding a touch of magic. Throughout the suite, solo wind passages abound; Maestro Noseda brought out these colouristic facets, and the Philharmonic artists played them delightfully.

A broad viola theme stands out, and the percussionists are kept on their toes with bells, chimes,and glockenspiel in addition to the timpani, bass, and snare drums that come to attention for the battle scenes. The suite was an excellent program-opener.  

It's always a great pleasure when principals from the Philharmonic step into the concerto spotlight. Tonight, concertmaster Frank Huang performed Camille Saint-Saëns' Violin Concerto No. 3 - my first time hearing it live. The concerto begins without an orchestral introduction; instead, only quiet, darkish chords  provide a background for the rather harsh opening phrases of the violin. Mr. Huang's playing here seemed a little unsettled, with traces of sharpness of pitch. But within seconds, the violinist had settled into the music and gave a really impressive, technically assured performance.

As the concerto's first movement develops, there are dramatic contrasts between full-bodied, passionate themes and more sedate passages. There is a sense of yearning in the music which Mr. Huang conveyed to perfection. In the Andantino which follows, the composer meshes the solo violin with winds in music with an elegant air. 

The concluding movement begins with a slow introduction and some almost jagged interjections from the  violin. The Allegro non troppo itself is launched with an up-sweeping motif for the solo violin. Passages of coloratura for the soloist alternate with more lyrical elements; then commences a surprising cantabile, where Mr. Huang's beauty of tone was ravishingly engaging. Pages of virtuosic writing show off the soloist's fluent technique, and hints of gypsy passion are thrown in. The leaping violin theme returns and is most welcome. An orchestral chorale is an innovative detour before the concerto sails on to a bravura finish. Mr. Huang was rightly accorded a prolonged ovation from the audience whilst his onstage colleagues tapped their bows and stamped their feet in acclaim.

Above: Gianandrea Noseda

Rachmaninoff's Symphony No. 3, under Maestro Noseda's baton, followed the interval. Like so many symphonic works, its a piece I'm not really familiar with, and I must say, I felt slightly disappointed with it musically. It's all terribly impressive and enjoyable to hear, but the emotions are rarely engaged. Perhaps it was just my mood, but I kept longing for a deeper experience.

That said, the artists of the Philharmonic played it most impressively. And it is to them that I owe thanks for moving or thrilling me on this evening: to Mr. Huang of course, but also to other players who had prominent passages tonight: Sheryl Staples (violin), Yoobin Son and Mindy Kaufman (flute/piccolo), Sherry Sylar (oboe), Pascual Martinez Forteza (clarinet), Kim Laskowski (bassoon), and Amy Zaloto (bass clarinet).

Encouraged by the great success of his Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini (1934), Rachmaninoff started  work on his third symphony in the summer of 1935. Leopold Stokowski and the Philadelphia Orchestra gave the premiere on November 6, 1936. It was not well-received by the audience, nor by the press. Perhaps, as with those early auditors, I need to hear it a few more times to cultivate a more positive reaction. 

There are countless appealing passages - a cello tutti was especially beautiful - and the final movement's journey from optimism thru a vale of doubt and the onward via a meditative passage to a ringing conclusion evoked a big response from the Geffen Hall audience.

~ Oberon

Dmitri Hvorostovsky Has Passed Away

One of the era's few true titans of the opera world, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, has passed away at the age of 55. 

It's possible I was the first person in the Americas to hear the voice of Dmitri Hvorostovsky. Within a week of his historic Cardiff Singer of the World win in 1989, my dear friend Mollie sent me tapes of the competition - which had produced the famous 'Battle of the Baritones' as Dima and Bryn Terfel vied for the top prize. They both won: Hvorostovsky the main title and Bryn took the Lieder Prize; they both went on to spectacular careers.

His Cardiff win sent the charismatic Russian singer on a career trajectory that took him to the great opera houses and concert stages of the world. He was beloved by audiences everywhere.

At The Met, Hvorostovsky made his debut in 1995 as Prince Yeletsky in PIQUE-DAME. He went on to sing nearly 200 performances with the Company. I had the good fortune of seeing him often in such roles as Belcore in ELISIR, Germont, Posa, Andrei in WAR & PEACE, Onegin, Renato in BALLO IN MASCHERA, Count di Luna, Simon Boccanegra, Carlo in ERNANI, and Rigoletto.

In 2015, already in treatment for a brain tumor, Hvorostovsky made a heroic effort to come to New York City to sing three performances as Count di Luna in TROVATORE; the audience greeted him with fervent affection, and he sang beautifully.

In February 2016, I saw Hvorostovsky for what was to be the final time: in recital at Carnegie Hall. On May 7th, 2017, he appeared on The Met stage for the last time: at a gala marking The Met's 50th season at Lincoln Center, Dima made an unannounced appearance, singing the "Cortigiani!" from RIGOLETTO.

Three times prior to that last Carnegie recital, I heard Hvorostovsky in concert settings. The first was at Symphony Hall in Boston where, in 1995, he gave an all-Russian program with chorus; as an encore, he sang "America the Beautiful" - gorgeously - and took a high A (or was it a B-flat?) at the climax that was simply thrilling. The entire afternoon was a feast of splendid singing.

In 1998, soon after I'd moved to New York City, Hvorostovsky sang Mahler's Kindertotenlieder with the New York Philharmonic. The music suited him to perfection. And in April 2010, he joined soprano Sondra Radvanovsky in a program of arias and duets at Carnegie Hall: two of the truly distinctive artists of our time.

Looking back:

Dmitri Hvorostovsky - BALLO aria - Cardiff 1989

Dmitri Hvorostovsky - In The Stillness of the Silent Night~Rachmaninoff - Cardiff 1989

More of The Voice:

PECHEURS DES PERLES - duet - Paul Groves & Dmitri Hvorostovsky - Tucker Gala 1995

Hvorostovsky - TROVATORE aria - Tucker Gala 1995

Dmitri Hvorostovsky & Rene Pape - DON CARLO scene - Met 2006

Hvorostovsky - arias from PRINCE IGOR and ERNANI - BBC Proms 2006

As Eugene Onegin:

Dmitri Hvorostovsky - ONEGIN aria

Portrait of the artist as a young man:

I met Dmitri Hvorostovsky only once, very briefly. I was leaving work at Tower Records as he and his wife were coming in. I spontaneously held out my hand and he grasped it firmly and gave me a smile. Neither of us said a word.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky - Tchaikovsky ~ None But The Lonely Heart

Upcoming: Barnard/Columbia Dances @ NYLA

The premiere of Claudia Schreier's ballet SPLINTER is one of the works featured on a program at New York Live Arts by Barnard/Columbia Dances. The performance dates are November 30th, December 1st, and two shows on December 2nd. Tickets and more information here.

Claudia's SPLINTER gets its name from the Marc Mellits score from which she draws six of eight movements for her dancework. Each movement is named after a type of tree. It's quite dynamic music, with passing moments of reverie. 

Above: Claudia Schreier and dancers in rehearsal

Flute Affair @ Chamber Music Society

Above: flautists Ransom Wilson and Tara Helen O'Connor

Author: Oberon

Sunday November 19th, 2017 - In a well-conceived program of works composed in four different centuries, Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center presented two of today's foremost flautists - Tara Helen O'Connor and Ransom Wilson - joined by an ensemble of top-flight artists. The ink's probably not totally dry yet on John Luther Adams' newest score, a CMS co-commission having its New York premiere this evening.

Music of Bach opened the concert: his Trio Sonata in G-major for two flutes and continuo was given an elegant performance by Ms. O'Connor and Mr. Wilson, with cellist Timothy Eddy and Juho Pohjonen at the harpsichord providing a gracious continuo. The sound of blending flutes has an enchantment that few other instruments playing in duo can evoke. The sonata's Adagio e piano has an air of sweet melancholy, and in the propulsive rhythmic figures of the two Allegro sections, Mr. Eddy made music that went beyond keeping time.

For Mozart's C-major flute quartet, K 285b, Ms. O'Connor was joined by violinist Kristin Lee, violist Paul Neubauer, and cellist Timothy Eddy. In this two-movement work, the composer keeps the flute prominent but doesn't neglect the other instruments. Rising from the gentle flow of the opening Allegro, Ms. O'Connor's quicksilver fluting sends a melodic line over to Ms. Lee's violin. The strings provide a rich yet cultivated blend. We then head into the second movement: a theme-and-variations setting. The theme feels like a courtly dance; in the first variation the flute sings over gently rocking strings. Ms. Lee shines in the second variation and Mr. Eddy in the third, where the Neubauer viola injects an insinuating little phrase that's so delicious. The fourth variation takes a minor-key turn, with a sighing quality. Flute-song is the attractive essence of the fifth variation: Ms. O'Connor's playing is soft and sweet. The sprightly closing variation is in spirit of the country dance known as the Ländler. It's a short dance, but full of charm.

Above: composer John Luther Adams

The new Adams was up next: 'there is no one, not even the wind' proved to be both intriguing and a bit problematic. The stage had been set for the work's large ensemble, which includes our two flautists - Ms.O'Connor now playing alto flute - two percussionists (the excellent Ayano Kataoka and Ian David Rosenbaum, with a marimba for each...and a bass drum as well), piano (Mr. Pohjonen), violin (Ms. Lee), viola (Mr. Neubauer), cello (Mr. Eddy), and bass Anthony Manzo.

The music begins delicately with the striking of individual bell tones. Ms. Lee's violin enters on high; slowly, the other voices of the ensemble are mixed in: we seem to be floating thru space and time. Piercing flute notes from Mr. Wilson seem like signals from distant worlds; meanwhile Ms. O'Connor's alto flute evokes ancient realms on Earth. Notes struck on the marimbas linger on the air, enveloping us in mystery.The bass drum sounds like distant thunder, with deep piano tones adding to an ominous feeling. The flutes resume; the music transcends reality as sound-clouds move across the horizon of the mind.

The music is marvelously crafted and - needless to say - magically played. But there's simply too much of it: even the most poetic dream can outlast itself. An annoying cougher infringed on the atmosphere, and a sense of restlessness began to intrude. Much as I loved the sounds I was hearing, I began to wonder if we had been adrift too long. And yet, I could definitely listen to this work again - preferably at home, where the imagination could be allowed full play.

During the interval, there was considerable buzz about the Adams work: from what I could gather, people around us found it essentially fascinating but too extended.  

Above: composer Henri Dutilleux around the time he wrote his Sonatine

Henri Dutilleux passed away in 2013 at the age of 97. His Sonatine for flute and piano was commissioned by the Paris Conservatory as a test piece for the graduating flautists of 1942; tonight, Ransom Wilson and Juho Pohjonen turned it into ten minutes of magic.

The Sonatine begins mysteriously, the piano soon entwined with the flute. The music is very "French" with lingerings in the upper range and twisty rising scales. A bird-song cadenza shows off Mr. Wilson's fluency of technique; this leads to a lyrical developmental section. There's a full stop, and then rippling figurations from the piano draw us into music that's light, bright, and subtly ironic. The piano writing turns grand before another cadenza - this one heading downhill - carries us on to a witty speed-up to the end. The audience gave the players - and the piece - a warm reception. I'm going to tell some of my choreographer-friends about it.

We bounced back to the second decade of the 19th century for the evening's final work: the Septet in D-minor by Johann Nepomuk Hummel. Dating from 1816, this septet sounds rather ahead of its time, thanks to the composer's ideas about instrumentation, harmony, and modulation. It's a piece that brings the listener a sense of elation in both its musical freshness and its inspired instrumentation: Hummel calls for a trio of strings and a trio of winds, and he sets them off brilliantly against writing for the piano that calls for great virtuosity and sensitivity.

Within moments of the start of the Hummel, the audience could grasp the fact that the man at the Steinway, Juho Pohjonen (above), was playing with extraordinary dexterity, feeling, and commitment. He wasn't just playing the notes, but investing them with colour and nuance - one could often sense a full dynamic range within a single passage; and how fine were Mr. Pohjonen's taperings of the many scale phrases to keep us under his spell. When the septet ended, his colleagues urged the pianist to step forward where he was greeted by a barrage of bravos. Called back to the stage, the players sent Mr. Pohjonen out first, then they all held back so that he had a solo bow. It was one of my favorite moments from among the many evenings I've spent at Alice Tully Hall.

The Hummel is simply bursting with great opportunities for each of the seven players to show what they can do. After a full-bodied start, hesitations creep in. Mr. Manzo's bass makes the first of numerous incursions with rich, rhythmic sound. Mr. Neubauer's viola pulses as the three wind players comment. Meanwhile, the piano writing is a joy to hear as Mr. Pohjonen veers from extroverted to delicate in the twinkling of an eye. He can be pensive at one moment and wryly light-hearted the next. Before the first movement ends, Mr. Eddy's cello has its say.

"It's a piano thing!", I wrote as the second movement commenced: it's cleverly marked Menuetto o scherzo by the composer, and the bass gets us involved before the piano again draws our attention. Cello and viola meld with smooth sounds from Eric Reed's horn; Mr. Reed repeatedly sustains notes which lead into melodic motifs.

In the Andante cantabile, a melody gets passed about with variations. Mr. Pohjonen dazzles us yet again, later adopting a 'toy piano' sound for some fanciful coloratura. A slow-rising tutti sends the piano swirling; the bass lures us to a fun finish.

The forward impetus of the concluding Vivace brings us to a conversation between the Neubauer viola and James Austin Smith's congenial oboe; Mr. Eddy has a heartfelt cello passage with piano, and then Ms. O'Connor's flute blends beautifully with the oboe and horn as Mr. Pohjonen's playing is honed down to a thread. Cascades of notes from the keyboard underscore the final measures of this fantastic piece. 

• Bach Trio Sonata in G-major for Two Flutes and Continuo, BWV 1039 (c. 1736-41)
• Mozart Quartet in C-major for Flute, Violin, Viola, and Cello, K. 285b (1781)
• J. L. Adams there is no one, not even the wind for Two Flutes, Two Percussionists, Piano, Violin, Viola, Cello, and Bass (New York Premiere, CMS Co-Commission) (2017)
• Dutilleux Sonatine for Flute and Piano (1943)
• Hummel Septet in D-minor for Flute, Oboe, Horn, Viola, Cello, Bass, and Piano, Op. 74 (c. 1816)

~ Oberon

Lubovitch's LEGEND OF TEN @ Martha Graham

Above: Abdiel Cedric Jacobsen and Anne Souder of the Martha Graham Dance Company; photo by Nir Arieli

~ Author: Oberon

Friday November 17th, 2017 - The renowned choreographer Lar Lubovitch will celebrate the 50th anniversary of his Company in the coming Spring when the Lar Lubovitch Dance Company will perform two programs at the Joyce Theater from April 17th through April 22nd, 2018. Joining in the celebration, the dancers of the Martha Graham Dance Company will perform the Lubovitch masterpiece LEGEND OF TEN, set to Johannes Brahms’s Piano Quintet in F minor; the Lubovitch Company premiered this work in 2010.

This afternoon, photographer Nir Arieli and I stopped by at the Graham Studios at Westbeth to watch a rehearsal of LEGEND OF TEN. The Graham dancers are the crème de la crème of the dance world: in their combination of athleticism and artistry, they have few rivals. On top of that, they're all really nice people. So any chance to be in their presence has a special meaning for me.

I've seen LEGEND OF TEN three times in the past, danced by the Lubovitch Company. Yet today, I was struck afresh by its power and beauty. Taking wing on the Brahms score, LEGEND sends the dancers swirling thru dynamic movement that melds ballet motifs with elements of folk dance.

In the course of today's rehearsal, Mr. Lubovitch did quite a bit of dancing himself as he demonstrated for the Graham dancers. Assisting Mr. Lubovitch was Kate Skarpetowska - an estimable choreographer in her own right who has danced with the Lubovitch Company and is intimately familiar with his work.

Here's a gallery of Nir Arieli's images from this afternoon:

From left: Ben Schultz, Anne O'Donnell, Kate Skarpetowska, So Young An, Leslie Andrea Williams, Lorenzo Pagano

Abdiel Cedric Jacobsen, Anne Souder, and Kate Skarpetowska

Watching a film of LEGEND with Mr. Lubovitch

Lar Lubovitch coaching Abdiel and Anne Souder in a duet passage

Anne Souder and Anne O'Donnell

Leslie Andrea Williams

So Young An

Lorenzo Pagano

Ari Mayzick, Anne O'Donnell

Abdiel Cedric Jacobsen

Ecstatic moment

Abdiel with Anne Souder: pas de deux...continued below...

Ensemble: Ari, Ben, Lorenzo, Laurel Dalley Smith, Leslie

Leslie Andrea Williams

Abdiel and Anne Souder

Leslie Andrea Williams

Many thanks to Denise Vale of the Graham Company for helping to arrange today's studio visit, and also to Janet Eilber, publicist Janet Stapleton, to Mr. Lubovitch and Ms. Skarpetowska for letting us eavesdrop on their process, and - of course - to the phenomenal dancers. And although they weren't dancing today, it was great to catch up briefly with Ying Xin and The Lloyds: Knight and Mayor.

All photos by Nir Arieli.

~ Oberon

TURANDOT @ The Met

Above: Hei-Kyung Hong as Liu in a Beatriz Schiller/Met Opera photo

~ Author: Oberon

Thursday November 16th, 2017 - I invited my friend Claudia Schreier to this evening's performance of TURANDOT at The Met; I wanted her to experience one of last truly grand opera productions in the Met's repertory. The presence in the cast of Hei-Kyung Hong as Liu was a major factor in choosing this particular evening.

As at every performance of TURANDOT I've attended in the past 30 years, the house was packed. And, as at every Hei-Kyung Hong performance I have attended at The Met, the soprano's presence in the cast drew large numbers of Asian opera fans. It turned out to be - yet again - Ms. Hong's night. 

The evening got off to a sluggish start: Carlo Rizzi's pacing of the Mandarin's opening address was slower than the MTA and caused baritone Jeongcheol Cha to dig deep for sufficient breath to sustain the phrases of his proclamation. Later, Rizzi thoughtlessly allowed too much orchestral volume at times, undermining expressive opportunities for his singers.

The towering figure of Bulgarian basso Giorgi Kirof as Timur (above, taking a curtain call) came onto the scene; in his Met debut, Mr. Kirof's looming stature gave Ms. Hong's petite figure as Liu an almost childlike aspect. The basso - a stalwart of the Sofia National Opera - gave a vocally moving performance, reaching emotional heights in the heartbreak of "Liù...Liù...sorgi! È l’ora chiara d’ogni risveglio!" which literally choked me up.

Alexey Lavrov was a terrific Ping, with a big, warm sound; his "Ho una casa nell’Honan..." was superbly sung. As his sidekicks Pang and Pong, Tony Stevenson and Eduardo Valdes gave characterful singing. I actually love the scene of the three ministers, which Puccini orchestrated so precisely. As the Emperor Altoum, Ronald Naldi's voice 'spoke' clearly - all the way from Amsterdam Avenue.

Aleksandrs Antonenko had a fine evening as Calaf. He measures out the voice thoughtfully in Act I, saving up for the arduous singing ahead. But his "Non piangere, Liu" was finely judged, revealing veins of beauty in his powerhouse voice. Throughout the Riddle Scene, the tenor scored with dramatically-lit singing, and joined Oksana Dyka's Turandot on a firm and sustained high-C at the end of "In questa reggia". Mr. Antonenko also took - and held - a strong high-C at "No, no, Principessa altera! ti voglio ardente d’amor!"

Mr. Antonenko's "Nessun dorma" was persuasively sung, reveling in the music's inherent lyricism; he pulled off the climactic phrase impressively and managed to both acknowledge and forestall a wave of 'bravos!' by holding up his hand, letting the opera flow forward. The tenor's singing in the final duet was first-rate, with some lovely expressions of tenderness as Turandot succumbed to him.

Oksana Dyka's voice is slender of tone yet strong of projection. The top range doesn't blossom but the notes are there; it took a few phrases for the sound to shake loose. As she moved downstage in the course of "In questa reggia" the voice began to speak into the house with increasing effect. Her Riddle Scene was filled with characterful expression: fire and ice. Following her collapse and her desperate plea to her father, the scene turned dramatically absorbing.

Ms. Dyka, her hair down and nearly prone with despair, is literally overcome with wonderment when Calaf/Antonenko offers her a way out of the bargain. She simply stares at him, realizing that this is a different kind of man than she's accustomed to dealing with. Then he gently helps her to her feet. The chemistry between the two singers here was genuine; I've never seen that moment done quite that way.

Ms. Dyka's voice seemed freer in Act III, and she was sustaining the phrases more and reveling in the upper range notes, holding them to generate increased excitement. Her "Del primo pianto" was movingly sung, opening up her humanity which has been bound in ice for so long. In the final moments of the opera, the soprano's "Padre augusto...Conosco il nome dello straniero! Il suo nome è...Amor!" had a silvery gleam and a prolonged top-B.

Hei-Kyung Hong's Liu has captivated audiences time and again in her long Met career. As someone who has seen and heard so many splendid sopranos essay the role of Liu - people like Moffo, Freni and Caballe - I feel Hei-Kyung's stands at the pinnacle both for her physical perfection and her deeply moving singing.

If her Wikipedia page is accurate, Hei-Kyung is now 58 years old. Her voice has retained its freshness thanks to her wisdom in choosing repertoire. Tonight both the beauty of her sound and the instinctive rightness of her phrasing gave the music a deeply feminine quality; she also has a feeling for the Italianate style that escapes many non-Italian-born singers. Both her arias were as finely sung as I've ever heard them, and her death scene was truly heart-rending. She received a vociferous ovation, very much deserved.  

All evening, the Met Orchestra made marvelous music, with particular magic from the violin of concertmaster David Chan who made so many of his phrases shine. Likewise, the chorus were at their most fervent and full-voiced.

Above: Act I production photo by Marty Sohl/Met Opera

Some of the original staging has been altered and to me this weakens the overall effect of the opera. And the crowd scenes seem less crowded than in the past. The 45-minute intermission after the 35-minute first act would have been unbearable had I not had the one-and-only Claudia Schreier to keep me company.

Catch the curtain calls here, with the charming episode of the "missed bouquet".

~ Oberon