Oberon's Grove

Leonie Rysanek as Lady Macbeth

A year before her Met debut in the same role, Leonie Rysanek made her New York debut as Verdi's Lady Macbeth in a concert performance with The Little Orchestra Society. Overall, she gave an exciting (if somewhat uneven) performance; she galvanized the audience with her thrilling singing of "La luce langue".

Leonie Rysanek - La luce langue ~ MACBETH - Little Orchestra Society 1958

After hearing Leonie Rysanek's voice for the first time on a Texaco/Metropolitan Opera broadcast of BALLO IN MASCHERA, I wrote to her and received the photo (at the top of this article) a few days later. She became one of the most potent forces in my enduring obsession with opera. I saw her many times at The Met, including her unforgettable 25th anniversary gala. She was my first Senta, Ariadne, Kaiserin, and Salome; her Met 25th anniversary gala in 1984 was one of the greatest thrills of my opera-going career.

~ Oberon

New Bayreuth

Penelope Turing (above) was an Englishwoman who attended the second post-war Bayreuth Festival in 1952, returning to the Green Hill for many seasons thereafter. She continued to attend performances thru the Summer of 2009, and she passed away in 2010.

Turing's book, New Bayreuth, was first published in 1969. It is full of detailed writing about both the scenic and the musical aspects of the productions she saw there over her first seventeen years of attending the Festival, commencing - in 1952 - with DAS RHEINGOLD, in Wieland Wagner's ground-breaking production which had premiered the Summer before.

Turing's writing about the voices and characterizations of the eminent singers who appeared in those first post-war festivals is fascinating to read.  

Her descriptions are so evocative. Of curtain-rise for the Wieland Wagner PARSIFAL, which had been introduced in 1951, Turing writes: "According to the score, the scene is a glade in a solemn, shady forest in the domain of the Grail. In what we saw, however, there was no forest definable, nor even a tree. We felt the forest rather than saw it: a legendary forest that was of no time and no place, and one, moreover, over which mystery and sorrow and pain seemed to have brooded long."

After reading that, on page 6, I was hooked on Turing's book, and have been barely able to put it down. Turing's writing is free of 'intellectual' blather, theories, and nit-picking. She writes about what she saw and what she heard, and how she felt about it all. 

The book contains many black-and-white photos from those years: of the iconic productions, and of the fabled singers who appeared in them; of the Festspielhaus, and of the town of Bayreuth. These produce a feeling of nostalgia for a place I've - unfortunately - never been.

But there's another reason I'm so captivated by the book. As I so often do, I bought New Bayreuth in a used, hardcover edition via Alibris. Used books invariably have a life of their own, and, opening it for the first time, I found this inscription:

Who were Ron and Werner? Were they lovers? Had they gone to Bayreuth together, or did they perhaps meet one another there? Are they still alive? My guess would be: probably not.

But now their book has come down to me, and it is intriguing in so many ways.

~ Oberon

Mirella Freni ~ Depuis le jour

Mirella Freni ~ Depuis le jour - LOUISE

"Since the day that
I gave myself,
my destiny has blossomed.
I seem to be dreaming
beneath a fairy sky,
my soul still enraptured
by that first kiss!

What a beautful life!
My dream was not a dream!
Oh, I am so happy...
Love spreads its wings above me!
In the garden of my heart,
a new joy sings!
Everything vibrates,
everything rejoices in my triumph!

About me, all is smiles,
light and happiness!
And I tremble at the memory
of the first day of love!

What a glorious life!
Oh, how happy I am...too happy!

And I tremble deliciously
at the charming memory
of that first day of love!"

Ingrid Bjoner as Turandot

Ingrid Bjoner sent me the above photo of herself as Turandot after I sent her a letter of praise letter after seeing her in this role at The Met in 1974.

On the back of the photo, Ms. Bjoner wrote:

Turandot is a fascinating role, and I have seen many sopranos undertake it over the years since Mary Curtis-Verna was my first icy princess at The Old Met in 1965.

Birgit Nilsson was, of course, the Turandot of her day. But Ingrid Bjoner made a striking impression with her powerful, silvery sound, and - in truth - her characterization was more complex and interesting than Nilsson's. I wrote about my impressions of the Bjoner Turandot here.

And here she is, in a German-language performance:

Ingrid Bjoner - TURANDOT ~ In questa reggia (in German) with Ludovic Spiess

~ Oberon

The Young Troyanos

Tatiana Troyanos made her Met debut as Octavian in DER ROSENKAVALIER in 1977. But I had had the incredible opportunity to see her on the Met stage ten years earlier, when she sang Baba the Turk in a remarkable performance of Stravinsky's THE RAKE'S PROGRESS given by the visiting Hamburg State Opera for the Lincoln Center Festival in 1967. I was 19 years old and obsessed with opera.

A few days after the performance, I sent Tatiana Troyanos a fan letter in care of the Hamburg State Opera. Soon after, an envelope arrived in our family mailbox in Hannibal, New York:

This was in the pre-zip code era; there was no return address, but the German postage stamp (with no cancellation) provided a clue. Inside was the signed photo from Troyanos that appears at the top of this article. Scanning these beautiful souvenirs was genuinely moving to me: these were things Tatiana held in her hands, and undoubtedly she signed, sealed, and delivered this to the post office herself. (So cute that she ran out of space when signing her name!)

Troyanos had sung in the chorus of nuns in THE SOUND OF MUSIC on Broadway before spending two seasons with New York City Opera.  Then, in 1965, she traveled to Europe, auditioned successfully for three companies, and chose to join the Hamburg State Opera, where she remained (first as an ensemble member, later as a guest artist) for ten years, singing a variety of roles and honing her stagecraft.

Then came the debut at The Met, where she was to become a beloved star, giving over 275 performances there and making an indelible mark on such roles as Octavian, the Composer in ARIADNE AUF NAXOS, Mozart's Tito, Princess Eboli, and Wagner's Venus and Kundry. I saw Troyanos many times, in these roles and others, and she always thrilled me as few other singers consistently did. Yet whenever her name comes up, it's that first experience of her Baba that immediately springs to mind.

Tatiana Troyanos passed away after a long battle with cancer. She continued to sing to the end of her life, including - reportedly - for fellow patients at Lenox Hill Hospital on the day she died: August 21, 1993.

Here, from her Hamburg years, is Troyanos singing the Composer's great aria in praise of music from a 1968 performance:

Tatiana Troyanos - ARIADNE AUF NAXOS ~ finale of the Prologue - Hamburg 1968

~ Oberon

Liane Synek as Brünnhilde

Liane Synek (above) was an Austrian dramatic operatic soprano. She based her career in Germany, at such opera centers as Wiesbaden, Cologne, and the Staatsoper Berlin and the Cologne Opera, She appeared at international major opera houses and festivals, including Covent Garden, La Scala, and as the Bayreuth Festival.

A somewhat erratic singer, Synek took on opera's most demanding roles - including Turandot, Elektra, Isolde, and the Brünnhildes - and threw herself into the music with abandon: her top notes could thrill.

Over time, collectors have taken an interest in Synek's "live" recordings; quite a few have surfaced, and can be found at Opera Depot.

Here is Liane Synek in the great scene from Act III of DIE WALKURE wherein Brünnhilde attempts to explain to her father Wotan why she disobeyed his expressed command that Hunding should prevail in his fight against Siegmund. The performance, in surprisingly good sound, is from Montevideo 1959; Wilhelm Schirp sings Wotan.

Liane Synek - War es so schmählich ~ WALKURE - with Wilhelm Schirp - Montevideo 1959

Birgit Nilsson ~ Liebestod

In 1971, Birgit Nilsson was my first Isolde, in a new production at the Metropolitan Opera. For several years after seeing her in the role, I did not want to see the opera again. When I finally did  - in 2008 (!) - I realized what I'd been missing. TRISTAN UND ISOLDE now holds a high place in my list of favorite operatic works.

Birgit Nilsson - Liebestod ~ TRISTAN UND ISOLDE - Knappertsbusch conducting

@ The US Open Qualifiers ~ 2019

Above, Jason Jung: the big news of the day at the US Open Qualifying Tournament was Jung's hard-fought win over Donald Young

Tuesday August 20th, 2019 - The heat has become a factor in determining which days and how much time I can spend at the National Tennis Center, pursuing my favorite non-musical pastime. I've gone to the US Open every Summer since I moved to New York City in 1998. After a few years of attending for main-draw tennis, I discovered the Qualifying Tournament, and I have continued to attend matches during that event even after I gave up on the main tournament as being too expensive and too crowded.

The Qualifying Tournament has changed a lot since I started going. It used to be that only serious tennis buffs would attend. Sometimes only a handful of people would be watching a given match. Hardly any children were to be seen, and cellphones had not yet proliferated our culture. You could watch match after match, sure of getting a seat, and without worrying too much about extraneous distractions.

Over time, the general public has discovered the Qualifying Tournament...and the fact that it's FREE. The Qualies have become a destination. Baby strollers are now a court-side fixture - even though the occupants themselves are indifferent to the game itself - and hordes of school kids always show up. People who run summer camps bring large groups, giving them something to do for a day.. Shopping, eating, and irrelevant musical entertainment became part of the Qualie Experience.

Despite these developments. I have continued to make the trek to Flushing; I have learned to move about to avoid chatterboxes, bored and fussing children, and listening to cellphone conversations about the most inane things while the players are giving their all. 

The Open has become sleeker, more commercial, more...plastic...over time, and I suppose that was inevitable. But now there's a different element to the Qualies (and the entire tournament): the heat factor. There have always been the random hot days at the Open, but now they seem far more frequent...and far more intense. Most of the courts are exposed to the baking sun from morning to sunset. I do not know how the players are able to carry on in such conditions; yesterday, apparently, a ball-kid fainted on court.

So, anyway: this year, I skipped the first day - temperatures exceeding 90 degrees were forecast and indeed came to pass. Today the heat was very slightly less extreme, and a breeze kicked up from time to time. I arrived before the 11:00 AM start of play, and planned to stay for the Go Soeda-Tommy Robredo match, which I knew would not start until 6:00 or later. 

Above: Sumit Nagal (an Associated Press image)

Despite wearing a baseball cap and a light-weight long-sleeved shirt, by 4:00 PM I began to feel like the Roasted Swan in CARMINA BURANA. I realized it was time to head home during the Tatsuma Ito-Sumit Nagal match. When their first set was to be decided in a tie-break, I held on to see how it would end. Nagal, a very intense, good-looking guy, won the tie-breaker, and went on to win the match.

But the excitement of the day centered on Jason Jung's victory over Donald Young. Donald of course had the enthusiastic support of much of the crowd, but a goodly number of Jung admirers were vocal throughout the match - which might have helped propel him to a 3-set victory which ended with a tension-filled tie-breaker. The crowd was hanging on every point.

The exhausted Jung was interviewed on-court after his win...

...and greeted fans...

...and posed for dozens of photos.

One charming element of Fan Week was a band of roving jugglers and stilt-walkers; the girl above towered over me with her out-sized racquet, and cheerily posed for my camera.

My other pictures from today are of players who - unfortunately - lost:

Italy's Lorenzo Giustino lost to Spain's Guillermo Garcia Lopez, though Giustino made a fine impression.

Taro Daniel was defeated by Mario Vilella Martinez, a big-hitter who plays a passionate game. Both of the first two sets ended with tie-breakers, with Martinez winning the first and Taro the second. But the Spaniard prevailed at the end.  

Tatsuma Ito, a long-time favorite of mine, got off to a good start against Sumat Nagal, but then the player from India stepped things up a notch or two. 

Despite the horrible heat, I had fun today and will try to go back - but not tomorrow, as I originally planned: I can't take another episode of baking quite so soon.

~ Oberon

At The Old Met ~ Part III

Above: at The Old Met, final scene of FAUST

In November, 1965, I saw my last performances at the Old Met. This was my first "long weekend" at the opera; such weekends became my routine over the next 30 years. In the late Summer of 1966, I would make first solo trip to New York City to join the box office line for the opening performances at the New Met, where I was to see hundreds of performances in the ensuing seasons. That saga started here, and continues to this day.

But in the Autumn of 1965, the Old Met was still The Met. For me, it was thrilling to see four performances in three days, and I wished that there were weekday matinees that I could have gone to: I wanted opera, all day, all the time. It hadn't yet occurred to me that the productions had to be rehearsed.

My long weekend opened with the first Verdi opera I ever saw at The Met:

This was a thrilling experience, and I thought parts of the performance compared favourably with the old Milanov-Bjoerling RCA recording that I'd learned TROVATORE from.

Gabriella Tucci (above) was, at that time, my favorite soprano; having heard her on many Texaco broadcasts - as Butterfly, Aida, Violetta, Desdemona, Alice Ford, and the FORZA Leonora - she set a standard for the way I thought these roles should (or could) be sung.

Tucci's legato, and her persuasive way of spinning out the vocal line, made every phrase of her Leonora enjoyable. In her great fourth act aria, "D'amor sull'ali rosee", Tucci reached an exalted interpretive level; she followed this with a dramatic rendering of the "Miserere". In those years, the cabaletta "Tu vedrai che amor" was never sung - in fact, I never even knew it existed until I heard Martina Arroyo sing it on a Met broadcast in the 1970s. Ms. Tucci capped her lovely performance with a magnificent, sustained pianissimo on her final "addio..." before the opera rushed to its close.

Gabriella Tucci - D'amor sull'all rosee ~ TROVATORE

Bruno Prevedi (above) was a handsome man with a sturdy spinto sound. He sang 65 performances with the Met, in New York and on tour, over three-year span. He was Anna Moffo's Alfredo in the Cecil Beaton TRAVIATA, and he was Don Carlo in Claudio Abbado's Met debut performance. Although his sound was not particularly distinctive, I enjoyed everything I heard him sing during those years. When his Met career ended, Prevedi continued to sing extensively in Europe and South America until 1982, he passed away in 1988, aged 60.

In this performance as Manrico, his voice was house-filling, warm, and clear; he was well-applauded without raising the audience's wild enthusiasm the way Corelli, Bergonzi, and Tucker did.

Bruno Prevedi - MACBETH ~ O figli o figli miei!

Rita Gorr (above) was a thrilling Azucena; her voice sounded huge in the House, and she was the dominating force of the evening. Gorr's Met career, however, was not extensive; over a 4-year span, she sang 40 performances with the Company. During the first season at the New Met, she sang four performances as Amneris, and was thereafter never heard there again.

I lost track of her after that, but apparently vocal problems had cropped up. Her career continued in Europe, though in smaller roles. I therefore consider myself fortunate to have heard her in peak form in this TROVATORE.

Rita Gorr - Samson et Dalila ~ Printemps qui commence

Robert Merrill (above) was already a great favorite of mine from his many broadcasts and recordings. I was excited to be hearing him in the House, where he was a huge audience favorite, winning entrance applause and lots of bravos at his curtain calls. 

Robert Merrill - TROVATORE ~ Il balen del suo sorriso

Bonaldo Giaiotti (above) was an excellent Ferrando. He had already established himself as my primo basso and, as the years went by, I never had much cause to think of him as anything else. It's still the bass sound I most love to hear.

Bonaldo Giaiotti - Come dal ciel precipita ~ MACBETH

Georges Prêtre conducted this TROVATORE, wherein I sometimes thought he pushed the orchestra for volume at the expense of the singers. Two days later, he conducted FAUST, and it seemed perfect.

[Note: Joann Grillo replaced Rosalind Elias as Suzuki.]

This performance of BUTTERFLY marked Licia Albanese's last appearance in this role which was so closely associated with her. It was, in fact, her penultimate performance with the Company; in January 1966 she sang MANON LESCAUT as her farewell to the Met stage, and in July, she appeared with the Company as Mimi in a concert performance of LA BOHEME at the Newport Festival.

Of this last of the diva's many Butterflies, I wrote: "The great Albanese in her greatest role...in fine voice, with good, strong top notes, she was especially good both in her singing and acting in Act II. A great artist, a famous portrayal! Met her, and got her autograph."

Licia Albanese - Ancora un passo or via ~ MADAMA BUTTERFLY

At this point in time, Barry Morell was the tenor I had most frequently encountered in live performance: he had sung the Duke of Mantua, Alfredo Germont, and Massenet's des Grieux at Cincinnati Summer Opera. Morell was a generous singer, with an easy Italianate style. 

Barry Morell - Addio fiorito asil - MADAMA BUTTERFLY

Joann Grillo (above), taking over from Rosalind Elias (who I had really been looking forward to hearing), sang well as Suzuki, and proved an attentive maid when she saw that the hem of Albanese's costume had caught on a stage-floor nail: Ms. Grillo quickly moved to release it.

John Robert Dunlap sang only two roles at The Met: Sharpless in BUTTERFLY and Jim Larkens in FANCIULLA DEL WEST. His final performance, as Larkens, was on April 11th, 1966: a student matinee which was the unannounced first-ever performance at the New Met at Lincoln Center. In what was described as a "sound test", busloads of students were the first people to experience an opera in the new theatre. Mr. Dunlap seems to have faded from memory soon after this performance, even though he was Renata Scotto's Sharpless at her Met debut.

The Saturday matinee of ELISIR D'AMORE brought together the much-admired tenor Nicolai Gedda and the lovely young Italian soprano Mirella Freni, who had only recently made her Met debut as Mimi and who went on to become a beloved star with the Company.

Nicolai Gedda - Elisir d'amore ~ Una furtiva lagrima

Mr. Gedda was immensely popular, and during the opera's single intermission the people near me were excited by the prospect of hearing his "Una furtiva lagrima" in Act II. Sure enough, it was superb. 

Mirella Freni - Elisir d'amore ~ Prendi per me sei libero

Ms. Freni was a lyric rather than a coloratura Adina, and the wonderful freshness of her sound - as well as her graceful presence - charmed the audience.

Mario Sereni (above), with a voice I always loved to hear, was the swaggering Belcore. Once the Company moved to Lincoln Center, I saw him frequently, admiring him especially as Carlo Gerard in ANDREA CHENIER, Marcello in BOHEME, and as Tonio in PAGLIACCI.

Mario Sereni - Come Paride vezzoso ~ ELISIR D'AMORE

And the inimitable Fernando Corena (above), king of patter, was Dulcamara. This was one of the leading roles Corena sang, but for me he came to be most dearly remembered as the Sacristan in TOSCA over the ensuing years. 

Fernando Corena - La vendetta ~ NOZZE DI FIGARO

Joy Clements (above, as Adele in FLEDERMAUS) made a sparkling impression as Giannetta; in the coming years, I saw her many times both at The Met and at New York City Opera where she had the distinction of singing both Mozart's Susanna (one of the best I ever encountered) and Carlisle Floyd's Susannah. In 1969, Joy Clements sang a fine Violetta as a guest artist at Syracuse, New York; at that time, I thought of her as a soubrette, and so I was very pleased with the deeper impression she made in TRAVIATA. She later sent me the above photo.

The ELISIR was conducted by the handsome, ill-fated Thomas Schippers (above). The matinee-idol maestro had made his Met debut in 1955, at the age of 25. He conducted nearly 350 performances at The Met (The Old and The New) and on tour, before being felled by lung cancer in 1977 at the age of 47.

Although I was still rather new to opera-going, I was already realizing that I much preferred tragic operas to comic ones. Over the ensuing years, I would gradually discard comedies from my 'repertoire'; but ELISIR can still lure me in, if there's a good cast

I can't remember why I did not go to the stage door after the ELISIR; perhaps I met my parents for supper before heading back to the Old House - for the last time - where FAUST was presented in a very different production from the one I had seen two years earlier.

Above: a scene from FAUST in the Barrault staging

The main attraction onstage was the Méphistophélès of the charismatic Bulgarian basso Nicolai Ghiaurov (above), who had made his Met debut three weeks earlier as Philip II in DON CARLO. Ghiaurov's splendid stage presence, aligned with his glamorous basso sound, was a thrill to experience.

Nicolai Ghiaurov - FAUST ~ Il etait temps

Four very fine American singers took the other leading roles in FAUST:

John Alexander (above, as Anatol in VANESSA)

Alexander was a real gentleman-tenor. There was no showing off or grand-standing, just performance after performance of top-level singing in a wide variety of roles. He sang with The Met in New York City and on tour, from 1961 to 1987, chalking up 380 appearances in everything from Mozart's IDOMENEO to Barber's VANESSA. 

John Alexander - FAUST ~ aria - Met b'cast 1966

For all the excellence of his work at The Met, it was John Alexander's stunning performance as Bacchus in the New York City Opera's 1974 production of Strauss's ARIADNE AUF NAXOS that thrilled me the most; it was a performance that put this opera at the top of my "favorites" list, where it has stayed every since.

Jean Fenn (above) sang Marguerite with gleaming tone and well-projected high notes. Together with Alexander and Ghiaurov, she made the final trio the thrilling finish to the opera that it should be.

Although she never attained prima donna status, Ms. Fenn was engaging both to watch and to hear. At the New Met, I greatly enjoyed her Musetta, and she was my first-ever Eva in MEISTERSINGER. As of this writing, she is still with us.  

There's few recorded tracks of Jean Fenn; I did locate this BOHEME duet with Mario Lanza:

Jean Fenn & Mario Lanza - O soave fanciulla ~ BOHEME

William Walker (Valentin) and Marcia Baldwin (Siebel) both had extensive careers at The Met, and in the ensuing years, I would encounter them many times onstage. In this FAUST - my final opera at the old Met - they were excellent.

William Walker (above) was a Met Auditions winner in 1962, and joined the Company immediately...and sang Papageno (in English) in his first Met season. Among his many roles were Kothner in MEISTERSINGER, the Herald in LOHENGRIN, both Schaunard and Marcello in BOHEME, Sharpless in BUTTERFLY, Enrico in LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, and Prince Yeletsky in QUEEN OF SPADES. He sang regularly at The Met until 1978.

William Walker - Valentin's aria ~ FAUST - Met bcast 1966

Marcia Baldwin (above) was the evening's Siebel, as she had been when I first saw this opera two years earlier. She sang the aria most attractively. Little could I have guessed that I would meet her and come to know her in a different context many years later, when I was living in New York City and working at Tower Records. When she passed away in 2016, one of my few remaining connections to the Old Met was lost.

Marcia Baldwin - Siebel's arias ~ FAUST - Met bcast 1966

As the opera drew to its close with that exciting trio, I wasn't really thinking "...this is the last time I will ever be here...", because I was hoping to get back for more Old Met performances in the Spring of 1966. It didn't happen. The next Met performance I saw was at Lincoln Center: Nilsson, Corelli, and Stratas in TURANDOT.

The life of an ardent opera-lover is full of ironies and coincidences: it hadn't dawned on me until recently that the last opera I saw at the Old Met was the Gounod masterpiece that had opened the House in 1883.

To end this reminiscence, here's the final trio of FAUST sung - as it was on that opening night in 1883 - in Italian. Of the three singers here, two (Pobbe and Poggi) had very limited Met careers, and the basso Raffaele Arie never sang there at all.

FAUST ~ final trio - in Italian - Marcella Pobbe - Gianni Poggi - Raffaele Arie

Above: final curtain call at the Old Met

~ Oberon

Note: the earlier installments of this story will be found here and here.

Guangzhou Ballet @ Lincoln Center

Above: from Guangzhou Ballet's production of Carmina Burana as performed at Lincoln Center; photo by Dmitry Beryozkin

~ Author: Oberon

Saturday August 17th, 2019 - Guangzhou, China, is the birthplace of my beloved Wei, so I arranged tickets for us to Guangzhou Ballet's performance at Lincoln Center tonight. Earlier in the day, my friend Dmitry Beryozkin photographed the dress rehearsal of the production.

Although tested by numerous audience distractions, we stayed to the end because of the impressive work of the Guangzhou Ballet's dancers, who are beautifully trained and who excel in both virtuosity and artistry.

Above: from Goddess of the Luo River; photo by Dmitry Beryozkin

Goddess of the Luo River is set to a violin concerto by the venerated Chinese composer Du Mingxin, who is now in his 90th year. The music has both rhythmic and lyrical appeal, though the Adagio begins to feel overly sweet after a while.

The program note for Goddess of the Luo River was basically incomprehensible to me, but the ballet seems to tell of a pair of young lovers yearning to be together, and of the goddess who helps make their dream come true.

Peter Quanz, a Canadian choreographer beloved by my friend Arlene Cooper, has re-staged the Du Mingxin concerto to beautiful effect. Mr. Quanz is a master of classical styling who has a gift for structure and for creating pleasing and musically-inspired combinations. The opening segment of Goddess of the Luo River, danced by an ensemble of women, was emblematic of Mr. Quanz's work, which sustained our interest for the 30-minute duration of this atmospheric piece.

Against a backdrop of a misty forest river-glade, Goddess of the Luo River unfolds like a blooming flower. If I have read the Playbill correctly, the principal dancers tonight were Fang Afang, Ma Minghao, and Huang Bairnao, and they were all simply entrancing to watch. But in fact, everyone onstage danced gorgeously, with musicality and grace.

At the end, the bow lights cam up and we looked forward to hailing the dancers in their curtain calls, but the applause dwindled away and there were no bows.

Above: from Goddess of the Luo River; Dmitry tells me they only did a brief excerpt from this ballet at the dress rehearsal. Too bad, because there were some lovely passages for the corps and the other featured dancer that I would like to have had photos of.

Following the interval, a three-act choreographic rendering by Qi Jiang of Carl Orff's Carmina Burana was presented.  The score was first performed on June 8, 1937, at Frankfurt, and is a setting of Medieval poems for three solo voices, chorus, and orchestra. This work was Orff's "greatest hit" (though he wrote some truly fascinating operas) and it became one of the best-known musical works of the 20th century thru its use in film and commercials. Carmina Burana greatly appealed to the Nazi regime, to whom its rhythms were reminders of the “stamping columns of the Third Reich”.

Guangzhou Ballet did not choose one of the many top-notch recordings of the piece for their ballet production but it was very well reproduced over the theater's sound system. The music has an irresistible emotional force. Han Jiang (scenic designer) and Chen Xiaji (lighting designer) have created a production full of impressive visuals, as you can see from Dmitry Beryozkin's photos, below.

The Company's Carmina Burana, however, did not reach the same level of involvement for either Wei or I as the evening's opening work. It's nearly an hour long, and there were stretches when the choreography seemed uninspired and repetitive. Perhaps some judicious pruning of the music would have helped make it more coherent: there are stories being told, but they become rambling after a bit.

Such striking moments as the powerful, smoky opening segment with dancers emerging from under a large blanket of fabric, and - especially - the gigantic moon that looms over some scenes kept us focused. But the constant whispering and checking of cellphones by people around us, the amorous boy in front of us who wanted to cuddle his girlfriend, and the continuous undercurrent of a whimpering child somewhere to our left (eventually taken out, with 5 minutes of music left to go) became so aggravating as the ballet progressed. If we could have made a graceful exit (some people did), we would have left midway thru.

But it was nice to see the dancers taking their bows at the end, though these were staged Broadway-style, with a reprise of music from the Orff score.

Here is a gallery of Dmitry Beryozkin's images from Carmina Burana:

~ Oberon