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Above: Nicole Mitchell
Author: Oberon
Thursday March 30th, 2023 - Another adventurous evening in the Miller Theatre's ongoing Composer Portrait Series as we were introduced to the multi-talented Nicole Mitchell: composer, flautist, bandleader, educator, and the first woman president of Chicago’s Association for the Advancement of Creative Musicians (AACM).
Ms. Mitchell brought her flute along with her this evening, joining members of the International Contemporary Ensemble, vocalist Lisa E. Harris, and violinist Mazz Swift in works she has composed from 2015 thru 2023.
On the Miller Theatre stage, a magic garden had been created with towering plants and clusters of candles; as the program progressed, the back panel was illuminated in varying hues. The musicians were distinctively dressed, creating the feel of a casual family gathering where every member had an invaluable place in the musical scheme.
The evening opened with Whispering Flame, co-composed by Nicole Mitchell and Lisa E. Harris in 2017. From a busily insectuous opening instrumental passage, Ms. Harris's rich, warm tones engaged us in a slow-rising vocal line. Ms. Mitchell's flute playing was pristine, and she also presided over the electronics. Percussionist Clara Warnaar struck a summoning gong, and the music took on a windswept feeling, with trumpeter Jonathan Finlayson producing sputtering effects, and duetting violinists Mazz Swift and Gabriela Diaz adding a touch of lyricism. This kozmic work made for a perfect introduction to the program.
Above, playing Procession Time: Cory Smythe, Katinka Kleijn, Isabel Lepanto Gleicher, and Joshua Rubin; photo by Rob Davidson
Bringing new sounds into the evening's musical sphere, a quartet of artists played with such a wide range of colours that they created an impression of hearing a larger ensemble for Procession Time (2017). In the work's first section, "Ritual Conception", deep violet tones from Katinka Kleijn's cello were matched by Joshua Rubin's velvety bass clarinet. The music has a hesitancy about it, with Cory Smythe at the piano joining Isabel Lepanto Gleicher's purring flute. Ms. Gleicher then takes off on a melodic flight, interrupted by the bass clarinet sounding rather ominous. Flute and standard clarinet harmonize to calming effect.
The second section of Procession Time, "Carnival at the Cliff", features quirky piano and cello motifs, and more harmonizing from flute and clarinet. A heavy rhythm develops, with squealing and screeching from the flute and clarinet.
Transitions Beyond (2021) is a quintet for Ms. Harris (voice), Mr. Rubin (clarinet), and Mlles. Gleicher (flute), Diaz (violin), and Kleijn (cello). Although the program listed five movements, I could only detect four (perhaps I missed a transition along the way); but, at any rate, the work is a finely-woven sound. It starts with wordless vocalizing from Ms. Harris from which a text emerges over the sighs of a drooping cello: "I don't want to leave you..." A violin solo turns into a dialogue for violin and cello, and soon their sounds begin to ooze, whereupon the winds take over. Ms. Harris sings a vocalise of uncanny sounds and pitches.
The bass clarinet burbles and stutters, the violin take on a wispy feel, the singer continues to summon an array of colours. Cello and clarinet mingle, the winds sounding whimsical and the singer's lines turning edgier. Now there is a flow of lyricism from the instruments, and a shimmering quality hovers over the singer's low-range phrases. There is lots of beauty here, doled out so that each participating artists shines.
The program's first half concluded with the big hit of the evening: Building Stuff (2015, rev. 2023). This irresistible music had the whole place jumping, and provided wonderful opportunities for each of the nine players involved to shine. To a jaunty rhythm, Mr. Rubin's clarinet sings out, followed by Ashley Jackson's captivating harping and a sparkling xylophone motif from Clara Warnaar.
A fantastic sway develops, steered by double-bass phenom Brandon Lopez. Mazz Swift reels off a vivid, jazzy violin solo, pianist Cory Smythe and Ms. Warnaar's drumming combine in high style, and Ms. Mitchell's flute adds a bright lustre. There are intriguing textures, with Sara Schoenbeck's vibrant bassoon playing grabbing our attention, and Ms. Kleijn's cello ever aglow with resonance. Mr. Smythe reaches into the piano to pluck some steely notes, and Ms. Jackson's harp sounds sweet and sure. As Mr. Lopez's fascinating rhythm steered the music to its finish, the crowd erupted in a burst of applause and cheering.
Above, the ensemble playing Inescapable Spiral; photo by Rob Davidson
Following a charming interview of Ms. Mitchell by The Miller's Melissa Smey (and beautifully signed by two young people at the edge of the stage), the evening concluded with Inescapable Spiral (2017, rev. 2023) which brought together all the artists save for the composer, who listened from the hall. This long work seemed rather tame and aimless at times, especially after the fabulousness of Building Stuff, but it did let us continue to savour the individual playing of everyone involved.
~ Oberon
A 1977 performance from the Bayerische Staatsoper of Wager's DIE WALKURE features the Sieglinde of Hildegard Behrens (above); I saw Behrens in the role twice at The Met in 1983, and she was thrilling.
Listen here.
Conductor: Wolfgang Sawallisch
Siegmund - James King
Sieglinde - Hildegard Behrens
Hunding - Kurt Böhme
Brünhilde - Gwyneth Jones
Wotan - Theo Adam
Fricka - Brigitte Fassbaender
Gerhilde - Leonore Kirschstein
Ortlinde - Antonie Fahberg
Waltraute - Charlotte Berthold
Schwertleite - Ortrun Wenkel
Helmwige - Gertrud Freedmann
Siegrune - Helena Jungwirth
Grimgerde - Liliana Netschewa
Roßweiße - Gudrun Wewezow
Above: violinist Bella Hristova, photographed by Lisa-Marie Mazzucco
Author: Oberon
Tuesday March 28th, 2023 - Works by Anton Arensky and Johannes Brahms were on the bill at Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center this evening as violinist Bella Hristova, cellist Dmitri Atapine, and pianists Wu Qian and Wu Han teamed up for some magical music-making.
The concert commenced with Arensky's Six Children’s Pieces for Piano, Four Hands, Op. 34, composed in 1894. These charming miniatures found our two pianists side by side at the Steinway, with Wu Han presiding over the upper octaves and Wu Qian the lower.
To give the pieces their English titles, we start with Fairy Tale which begins in the minor key, has a folkish feeling, and then becomes quite dramatic. Wu Han plays a series of decorative trills as the music ranges from hesitant to animated. Then, Wu Qian plays the familiar two-note birdcall that signals the delightful Cuckoo bird is nearby. This is a sprightly little piece with a subtle finish. The mood changes for Tears, which has the feel of a lament, with a deep bass line supporting a hymn-like melody. The ending is very quiet.
Rippling motifs underscore the lovely Waltz, which gets quite bouncy. A passing reverie turns expansive before fading away, as if the dance was continuing in another room. Cradle Song appropriately has a slow, rocking feeling; the melody is that of a gentle lullaby. The concluding Fugue on a Russian Theme is tuneful and jovial. The music turns grand, and the two pianists have a grand time playing it.
Listening to Bella Hristova and Dmitri Atapine (above), joined by Wu Qian, play the Arensky Trio No. 1 in D -minor for Piano, Violin, and Cello, Op. 32, makes one wonder why we don't hear more of this composer's gorgeous music. He wrote copiously for solo piano, and numerous chamber works as well. And why cannot we hear more of his large orchestral works - which include two symphonies - or his choral pieces? He also wrote three operas, which must be wonderful to experience.
At any rate, we must be thankful for any opportunity to hear the music of this pupil of Tchaikovsky, especially when it as a luminously played as this evening. The introductory theme of the opening Allegro moderato, first played by Ms. Hristova and then taken up by Mr. Atapine, is hauntingly beautiful. These virtuosos bring such richness of timbre to everything they play, and this trio - a veritable font of melody - affords them so many opportunities.
It is restless, passionate music, interrupted by a Springlike interlude in which Wu Qian spins lovely swirling passages from the Steinway. Now a sense of drama takes hold; the opening theme recurs, played - if it's possible to imagine - even more thrillingly. There is a coda full of lyrical grace before the movement ends quietly.
The ensuing Scherzo opens with an odd, stuttering quality. There are crisp plucking and jaunty melodies to be savoured, whilst at the keyboard Wu Qian offers cascades of notes decorated with lively trills. Now a swaying feeling takes over, and the music gets grand. After a brief hesitation, the stuttering resumes and the Scherzo comes to its whimsical finish.
The evocative Elegia is the heart of the trio: Mr. Atapine opens with a pensive theme, then the string voices entwine as Wi Qian introduces poetic phrases from the keyboard. The music seems to evoke the memory of a lost love as the gently rocking strings sound over the quiet rapture evoked by the pianist. Ms. Hristova in her high range, the pianist pulsing quietly, and Mr. Atapine plucking ever so gently give the music an ethereal quality. Ms. Hristova takes up an autumnal melody as Mr. Atapine's deep resonance sounds and the music fades away on a sustained chord.
A reverential silence filled the hall, and then the agitated drama of the final Allegro non troppo sprang up. Things cool off, melodic phrases are exchanged, but then restlessness builds and the music becomes impassioned. From a sudden silence, Wu Qian's shimmering notes are heard as the strings sing softly. The music ascends, and becomes reflective with the poignant violin and the soulful cello sounding. Then, out of the blue, a bustling rush to the finish line springs up.
The music of Johannes Brahms took the limelight after the interval: our two pianists returned for selections from the composer's Hungarian Dances for Piano, Four Hands; Wu Qian was now playing the upper range and Wu Han the lower. These delightful pieces were written between 1868 and 1880, and they are chock full of rhythmic and melodic variety, spiced with a dose of paprika. The two women seemed to be having a blast playing them, much to the audience's delight.
Bringing the evening to its close, Wu Han, Ms. Hristova, and Mr. Atapine illuminated the Brahms Trio in C-major Op. 87, with sumptuous playing.
In the opening Allegro, a unison theme for violin and cello develops int something big ad thrilling. When cal finally settles in, a sense of yearning is felt. The textures created by the three players are rich indeed, each displaying alluring tone that meshes into a persuasive whole. Epic grandeur develops as we relish Wu Han's superbly polished playing, which takes the movement to a royal finish.
Unison strings again herald the Andante con moto: a theme with five variations. The music takes on a gypsy air, reflecting Brahms’ interest in Hungarian music, which began in his youth. Here the blend achieved by our three artists was nothing short of remarkable, continually drawing me in to the music, which reaches a touching, quiet ending.
In the brisk Scherzo, I sensed a Mendelssohnian enchantment. Lush melodies sprang up, and there's a songful outpouring before a feeling of Puck lurking about returned at the music's sudden stop.
From its opening agitato, the concluding Allegro giocoso brings an abundance of delicious melodic and rhythmical treats, and the Mendelssohn mood continued to be felt. The musicians were warmly cheered as they took their bows, and I simply must mention Ms. Hristova's bejeweled shoes, which added an extra sparkle to an already brilliant evening.
~ Oberon
Above: Maestro Fabio Luisi
Author: Shoshana Klein
Sunday March 26th, 2023 - I have to admit to not knowing much about the Dallas Symphony Orchestra before tonight. I've seen Fabio Luisi guest conduct before but not work with his home orchestra. As it turns out, they put on a great concert - they played with energy, focus, and dynamic range, and Luisi does a great job of keeping things interesting and restrained to keep the music interesting later on. Despite, or maybe because of this, somehow the concert still had more people dropping things in the audience than any other concert I've ever been to.
What keeps me awake by Angélica Negrón (above, photo by Quique Cabanillas) started the concert - a short 7-minute piece, but a very nice introduction to the concert. Negrón created a distinctive but not completely unfamiliar sound world - though this might have something to do with the fact that I listen to her band, Balún - which seriously, you should check out if you haven't heard them. Negrón is the Composer in residence at the DSO and I'm looking forward to hearing more pieces that come out of that collaboration.
The piece evokes uncertainty and wandering like her program note explains - navigating moving from Puerto Rico to New York City as a Latina composer trying to fit into spaces that historically excluded people who look like her.
Rachmaninoff's second piano concerto with Garrick Ohlsson (above) was very enjoyable. I’m usually in the balcony, and being on the orchestra level so close to the stage, I could actually feel the sounds through my feet when the brass let loose. The orchestra was super sensitive under Luisi, the piano sections drawing us all in and the louder sections contrasting well. Ohlsson played the 3rd movement with some extra snappiness, which was just enough to keep my full attention for a piece many of us have heard… somewhat frequently. Near the middle/end of the third movement, I think the piece loses steam a bit compositionally, but it almost makes the end more exciting - right around the time you start to be ready for it to be over, it gets into it again and heads for the hyper-romantic finish.
Ohlsson did an encore that he announced from the stage, though it wasn't really necessary - Chopin's op 9 no 2, probably the most well-known of the nocturnes. Near the end, he had a little fun with it, adding some whimsy in places.
The Tchaikovsky, (which started at almost 10pm, the joys of an 8:30 start time) was really well paced, restrained just enough more than usual to be noticeable. Some tempi choices in the second movement caught my ear, the bassoon solo section - while sounding great - was a little slow to me, and the horn solo also sounded good but a little fast. However, overall I chose to trust the plan as the whole piece came together really well. The wind soloists were all fantastic, and more soloistic than their counterparts in the first half of the concert.
It's played so much, but this is one of those pieces to me that if you put it away for long enough, it regains most of its charm. It turns out I hadn't heard it in long enough that it felt fresh and new, at least with this exciting performance.
~ Shoshana Klein
Above: 118 Perry Street, my first NYC home; the building has been painted since we lived there
March 28th, 2023 - Today marks the 25th anniversary of my move to New York City; after spending 22 years in Hartford, working at a thankless job with a bunch of wonderful people, I was ready to achieve my long-held goal of being a New Yorker before my 50th birthday.
Within two weeks of arriving in The City, I met Wei (above)...and I started a job in the opera room at Tower Records. My friends Paul and Tom had rented me their studio on Perry Street, and Wei and I were very cozy there for five years - a time period that included the 9/11 terrorist attack on the World Trade Center. I'll never forget that morning, and rushing down to the street to see smoke pouring out of the Tower.
My friend Richard (above) came down often during those years. and continued to do so until his untimely death in 2016.
In 2003, Paul and Tom wanted their studio back, so Wei and I moved up to inwood. After a few weeks of feeling disoriented, I came to love it up here. Now, as the third act of my life/opera draws to a close, I keep wondering what the fourth act has in store for me. My friend Dmitry says, "The fourth act is the ballet!"
Author: Ben Weaver
Saturday March 25th, 2023 - J.S. Bach’s Matthäus-Passion, composed around 1724-27 (and revised through 1742), is arguably Bach’s greatest composition. Personally, I'd place it in the top ten greatest works of Western music. The NY Philharmonic performs it infrequently; the last time was in 2008 under the baton of Kurt Masur. Running at roughly 2:45 hours, the Matthäus-Passion is a work filled with passion and drama...more drama than most church music. Anyone mocking Verdi’s Requiem as being more opera than mass perhaps should take a closer look Bach’s greatest work. Verdi was following in Bach’s mighty footsteps. I was very glad to see it on the program this year, finally! I quite literally got chills as the work started and the chorus (Musica Sacra) sang the opening words: “Kommt, ihr Töchter, helft mir klagen.” Alas, the thrills did not last; I was sadly disappointed with tonight's performance.
Tenor Nicholas Phan sang the very difficult part of the Evangelist, who narrates the story of Jesus’ arrest, the debate over what his fate should be, his execution, and its immediate aftermath (the Passion ends before the resurrection.) Much of the drama of the work flows through the Evangelist’s words. Mr. Phan managed the difficult music very admirably, but the part can be a trap dramatically: there are many proclamations like “And Jesus said unto him.” How does one make each one sound fresh? I don’t have a clear answer. I suppose if it was easy, anyone would be able to do it.
Bass-baritone Davóne Tines’ Jesus (Mr. Tines was the only person on stage wearing a costume: a white, sleeveless robe) possesses a large voice; but it's a voice with a guttural quality, which seldom opens or blooms.
Mezzo-soprano Tamara Mumford, a favorite at the Metropolitan Opera across the Plaza, sang nicely. “Buß und Reu” in Part I was vocally steady and clear. But in Part II, Maestro Jaap van Zweden robbed Ms. Mumford and concertmaster Frank Huang of an opportunity to give their all in “Erbarme dich”, perhaps the Passion's most famous aria; certainly its most emotional and devastating piece. Written for solo voice, solo violin, and orchestra, this breathtaking music has the ability to stop time. Alas, Maestro van Zweden took it at a preposterous Allegro tempo; he absolutely wrecked it by turning it into a cabaletta. If your tempo is faster than John Eliot Gardiner’s, Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s, Trevor Pinnock’s, and Gustav Leonhard’s - you may consider looking at the score again.
Soprano Amanda Forsythe (above), making her Philharmonic subscription concert debut with these performances, was sublime. Her ability to float pianissimi high notes was indeed spine-tingling. The aria "Aus Liebe will mein Heiland sterben,” which also includes a flute solo by Robert Langevin, was the highlight of the evening.
The Philharmonic's Principal Associate Concertmaster, Sheryl Staples, had a chance to shine in "Gebt mir meinen Jesum wieder,” with a difficult solo. Unfortunately, bass Philippe Sly, making his Philharmonic debut with these performances, had pitch difficulties which offset Ms. Staples fine playing. Tenor Paul Appleby was superb all evening, the high tessitura of the aria “Geduld” presenting no difficulties for him.
The Choral group Musica Sacra was in excellent form all evening, from the Chorales to dramatic exchanges representing specific characters. The Brooklyn Youth Chorus sang the opening and closing choruses of Part I, but did not return for Part II. Can’t say if that was intentional or if something kept them from returning.
I do hope the Matthäus-Passion returns to the Philharmonic again soon - under a more caring conductor.
~ Ben Weaver
Above: Helena Dix, costumed as Norma, in her Met dressing room; I borrowed this image from the soprano's Facebook page
Author: Oberon
Saturday March 25th, 2023 matinee - The three great peaks of the bel canto repertoire are - for me - Donizetti's LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, Rossini's SEMIRAMIDE, and Bellini's NORMA. This afternoon I was at The Met to see the season's final performance of the Bellini. The casting of Sonya Yoncheva in the title-role turned out to be pretty controversial, and the soprano took to social media to complain that people were comparing her Norma to recordings and remembered performances from decades ago.
I guess she is unaware that this has always been a favorite pastime of serious opera-lovers...something that I learned early on in my opera-going career. Examples: during the enormous ovation after the Mad Scene of Beverly Sllls' first New York Lucia, Maria Grimaldi waltzed up behind me and growled in my ear: "Not as good as Lily Pons!". And while I was yelling "brava" at the Met for Birgit Nilsson's 1971 Isolde triumph, the fellow next to me, who was applauding feebly, said: "I guess you are too young to have heard Flagstad!"
Anyway, the problem became moot when Ms. Yoncheva (who was wonderful as Giordano's Fedora earlier this season) took ill and withdrew from the final three NORMAs, one by one. Angela Meade was called in for the first Yoncheva cancellation, and the cover - Helena Dix - stepped in for the second. Everyone was waiting to see if Yoncheva would come back with a vengeance for today's final NORMA, which was being broadcast.
In truth, I was hoping for a cast change, and that Ms. Dix would be singing today. I'd started following the plucky Aussie soprano on Facebook a few weeks ago when I began to see her postings about what it's like to cover a major role at The Met. She had covered Norma here in 2017, and had also covered Alice Ford in FALSTAFF in 2019, going on at one performance for her Met debut.
This year, as it happened, she ended up singing quite a few of the NORMA rehearsals. But Ms. Yoncheva sang the prima, and the next two performances. When she became ill, Peter Gelb applied his frequent tactic: he located a "star" to step in rather than relying on the cover. Thus, Ms. Meade returned to a production in which she has previously appeared.
This morning, as I was getting ready to leave for the noontime matinee, an e-mail from a soprano/friend of mine popped up: "Helena Dix is singing Norma today!" This elevated my mood considerably.
The house was nearly full as Maurizio Benini took his place on the podium. Benini has frustrated me in the past with his eccentric tempi in operas like LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, MARIA STUARDA, and MANON. As the afternoon progressed, he upheld his reputation as a routinier.
Christian van Horn as Oroveso was simply superb in the opera's opening scene, and he remained so throughout the afternoon: a potent vocal force and an imposing stage figure. His "Ah, del Tebro" later in the evening was gorgeously sung, and his shock at Norma's revelation of her motherhood was a lightning bolt. Together with Ms. Dix and Mr. Spyres, Mr. van Horn made the opera's poignantly dramatic finale, "Deh! Non volerli vittime..." heart-rendingly moving.
Meanwhile, back in Act I, as the Druids withdraw from the forest clearing, the Romans appear: Michael Spyres as Pollione and Yongzhao Yu as Flavio. The latter showed a fine voice and was an alert actor, whilst Mr. Spyres - a marvelous Met Idomeneo earlier this season - was sounding more baritonal today. The Spyres voice has great immediacy and, despite a hoarse high-C in "Meco all' altar di Venere" his singing and dramatic engagement (all afternoon, really) was a potent experience. The tenor was having a rousing go at the cabaletta "Me protegge, me difende", reaching the final phrase with a penultimate A-flat which he then elevated to the more customary B-flat, at which moment Benini decided to amp up the orchestra, ruining the effect.
When Ekaterina Gubanova was announced as Adalgisa, I admit I had misgivings; her Act II Brangaene at Geffen Hall at 2019 showed some unease in the music's upper reaches, and Adalgisa is quite demanding in that regard. But Ms. Gubanova seemed today to have solved (for the most part) that problem. She was wonderfully expressive in her opening monologue, and she matched Mr. Spyres in passion and tonal appeal in their long duet where Adalgisa finally succumbs to Pollione's pleadings.
The opera's sixth character, Norma's confidante Clothilde, was the excellent Brittany Olivia Logan, who we need to hear in larger roles.
Ms. Dix appeared onstage as the chorus hailed the coming of their high priestess. The soprano carefully mounted the pointless platform from which she must sing opera's most demanding entrance aria, the immortal "Casta diva". The Dix voice is not large, but it's well-projected. Her opening address was authoritatively declaimed, ending with a shimmering softness at "Il sacro vischio io mieto..."
Benini set a slow pace for the "Casta diva..." which Ms. Dix sang as a spellbound invocation. As her soft tones flowed thru the vocal line, a hush fell over the house; in the second verse, a tiny embellishment on the phrase "Che regnar tu fai nel ciel" sent a frisson thru me...a delightful feeling that would be experienced several times as the opera progressed. For this is Ms. Dix's signature vocal attribute: these delicate pianissimi that are woven into phrases at just the right moment, putting an individual stamp on the music. I came to anticipate them, and she never let me down.
But we were jarred out of reverie when Benini set up a tempo for the cabaletta, "Ah! bello a me ritorna" that only a Sills or a Bartoli could have coped with. Ms. Dix went at it gamely, but to little avail.
Things settled in after that, and the soprano's confidence increased - though through no help from the conductor. Mlles. Dix and Gubanova formed a sisterly duetting society, and Mr. Spyres' bristling anger at finding that his secret love had unwittingly betrayed him stirred up a fiery finish to the first act, polished off with a Dix top-D.
Ms. Dix's contemplating the murder of her children was effectively done, and then Ms. Gubanova appeared and the two women got to the heart of the matter with a finely-matched "Mira O Norma" filled with lovely, expressive singing from both. Benini then luckily set a perfect tempo for "Sì, fino all'ore estreme" wherein the singers indulged in a bit of rubato, harmonized the scale passages to fine effect, and Adalgisa took her leave in a fit of optimism, unaware that they will never see each other again.
The final scene of NORMA is a masterpiece all on its own: Norma's hopes are dashed, but when she has Pollione in her power, she cannot kill him. Ms. Dix and Mr. Spyres excelled in a super-charged "In mia man alfin tu sei" but despite his defiance, she still cannot bring herself to slit his throat. About to reveal Adalgisa's crime of breaking her sacred vows, Norma is overcome with guilt and names herself instead. Ms. Dix spins out more delicate suspended tones at "Io son la rea!", and, later, at "O padre!" as she prepares to beg her father to spare her children. The tragedy moves towards its end with the devastating "Deh! Non volerli vittime" and a last haunting piano plea from Ms. Dix: "Ah! Padre, abbi di lor pietà!". Norma and Pollione go to their deaths, scorned and spat upon by the Druids.
I went to the stage door to greet Mr. van Horn, and to meet Ms. Dix, who is a delightful person. A sizeable crowd had gathered; people, intrigued by her "cover" story, wanted to meet her. She gave me a special autograph before joining the young boys who had portrayed her sons, Axel and Magnus Newville, to pose for photos.
You can get an idea of what makes Helena Dix an intriguing singer in this brief clip from the Verdi REQUIEM.
~ Oberon
Thursday March 23rd, 2023 - The American Symphony Orchestra performing Richard Strauss's rarely-heard DAPHNE in concert form at Carnegie Hall, with Maestro Leon Botstein on the podium. The Bard Festival Chorale, under the direction of James Bagwell, had a big part to play in the proceedings.
The one-act opera, written in 1936-1937, comes late in Strauss's composing career, when ELEKTRA, SALOME, ROSENKAVALIER, DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN and ARIADNE AUF NAXOS were already established in the world's opera houses.
The story of DAPHNE in a nutshell: Shepherds anticipate the feast of Dionysus, with Daphne's parents, Peneios and Gaea, presiding over the preparations. Daphne, in love with nature, shuns the ways of men. Her childhood playmate, the shepherd Leukippos, tries to embrace her lovingly, but she repels him and renounces the coming festivities. She refuses to don the clothing her mother has lovingly prepared for her, and runs away. Playfully, the women persuade Leukippos to wear the clothes instead. Apollo arrives, in a peasant's disguise, and is immediately drawn to Daphne, who rebuffs him. The feast begins, and the disguised Leukippos offers Daphne a cup of wine, arousing the jealousy of Apollo. The heavens respond to the god's anger with rumbles of thunder, which cause the sheep to run away; the shepherds chase after the flock, leaving Apollo, Daphne, and Leukippos alone. Leukippos reveals his true identity, and challenges Apollo to reveal his. Instead, Apollo shoots Leukippos dead with his bow. Apollo begs Daphne's forgiveness, saying he will grant her wish to join the natural world and will then love her in the form of a laurel tree. Her transformation begins, and her disembodied voice is heard among the rustling leaves.
About tonight: The evening got off to a rather stodgy start as a large phalanx of choristers slowly filled the stage space to sing An den Baum Daphne, an a cappella choral epilogue to the opera which Strauss composed in 1943. This seemed like a nice idea on paper, but the music overall is not terribly interesting, consisting of numerous repeats of a five-note theme familiar to me from DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN. It seemed to go on and on, and while there were many appealing individual voices among the chorus, they did not always blend well. There were some pitch issues along the way, and a feeling that the piece was a bit under-rehearsed.
Then came an intermission, which completely killed the Straussian atmosphere that had been established, with people chatting blithely and wandering up and down the aisles. At last the opera itself commenced, but it took time for the crowd to re-settle.
DAPHNE is a gorgeous opera: a veritable feast of melody...there is never a dull moment musically. The vocal writing is extremely demanding; a very fine cast had been assembled, but their work was often undermined by over-loud playing from the orchestra. At the climaxes, voices were being forced in order to stay afloat, This has been happening at The Met a lot this season too, where conductors seem to think loud = exciting. Yes, there is a superficial thrill to it, but in the end it doesn't do anyone any good.
That being the case, the singers could only be admired for holding steadfast and getting thru these taxing moments...especially when an orchestra is onstage behind you rather than in the pit.
The opera got off to an excellent start with baritone Kenneth Overton's handsome singing as the 1st Shepherd. The voice is fresh and warm, and he cuts a fine figure to boot. Later in the opera, a trio of choristers come forward to portray his fellow shepherds: Jack Cottrell, Paul Holmes, and Blake Austin Brooks.
In the title-role, so ravishingly sung on the esteemed EMI recording by the great Mozartean Lucia Popp, Jana McIntyre displayed a clear, soaring lyrical sound that deftly encompassed the role's wide range. It is a girlish timbre, perfect for expressing youthful vulnerability and impetuosity, but Ms. McIntyre also summoned considerable power when needed. In one especially lovely passage, her voice entwined with an obbligato from the ASO's concertmaster, Cyrus Beroukhim. There were a few spots when the orchestra pressured the soprano, but she held her own and emerged unfazed. Daphne is a "big sing" and without a persuasive interpreter, the opera is not worth reviving. Ms. McIntyre not only sang beautifully, but she looked fetching in her pale lime-green frock, and she used her expressive hands with the grace of a ballerina to shape the music and send it out to us.
As two maids, Marlen Nahhas and Ashley Dixon were much more than supporting players: both have luscious voices, sounding very much at home in the Carnegie Hall space. In solo phrases, they were each truly appealing to hear, and then they duetted to charming effect. Their scene was not mere filler, but a musical treat all on its own.
Strauss hated tenors: that is what people say when listening to an otherwise fine tenor struggle with the demands of Bacchus or the Emperor in FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN, Tonight, both the leading tenors - rivals in the story - fared well, despite the assaults of the orchestra at certain inconvenient moments. Kyle Van Schoonhoven as Apollo (sometimes deemed Strauss's cruelest tenor role) had the scope of the role, and the testing top notes were successfully attained. A more thoughtful conductor could have made the singer's job easier but Mr. Van Schoonhoven was always impressive. And, in the more lyrical stretches, he displayed a very appealing timbre...and a sense of poetry.
As Daphne's admiring swain, Leukippos, Aaron Blake made a striking impression. Slender of frame, and intense of presence, the tenor's lyrical sound contains a vein of metal (aligned to crisp diction) that he can call upon to cut thru when needed. By turns playful and cocky, the character was portrayed to perfection, and the tenor unleashed a laser-beam sustained note as fate closed in on him.
Magnificent singing came from contralto Ronnita Miller (Gaea) and basso Stefan Egerstrom (Peneios), as Daphne's parents. Ms. Miller, whose 1st Norn at The Met simply dazzled me a few seasons back, sings like a goddess with earthy chest tones of unusual richness. Stunning in her every note and word, the contralto looked like a fashion icon gowned all in black, and she shed her blessèd maternal light over the proceedings, even when sitting silently while others sang. Stefan Egerstrom, where have have you been al my life? What a powerful, resonant voice this man commands. He delivered his music with great authority: each note was rounded and true, and everything compellingly phrased. And yet, for all the strength of their voices, even Ms. Miller and Mr. Egerstrom were not immune to the effects of the encroaching orchestra.
Above, onstage at Carnegie Hall (from left): Stefan Egerstrom, Ronnita Miller, Aaron Blake, Kyle Van Schoonhoven, Jana McIntyre, Leon Botstein (back to camera), and Ashley Dixon. Photo by Matthew Dine.
~ Oberon