Above: Maestro Daniele Callegari
~ Author: Oberon
Saturday October 26th, 2024 matinee - What made this performance outstanding was the conducting of Daniele Callegari; he made the music come alive with brisk but never rushed tempi, whilst keeping the volume under control, helping the singers to sing without forcing. At a few points, the musicians fell back on the Y N-Z approach: play loud and fast. But mostly, the performance was immeasurably satisfying. It wasn't until I got home and checked the archives that I realized I'd heard a Callegari TROVATORE in 2013; the awfulness of his cast that night had made me purge the memory from my mind.
This afternoon, TROVATORE started with a bang: Ryan Speedo Green's Ferrando immediately established the singer's vocal authority, seizing our interest - and holding it - throughout his monolog, which was expertly supported by the Maestro. Ryan's diminuendo on "All'inferno!" was chilling. The scene's finale, and the sounding of the castle's alarm bells, assured us we were in for some vibrant Verdi.
As Inez, Briana Hunter's appealing voice and sense of urgency in her exchange with Rachel Willis-Sorenson's Leonora engaged us in their story right from the start. At first, Ms. Willis-Sorenson's tone showed a steady beat, and passing hints of sharpness, but the voice would come under control as the opera progressed. Maestro Callegari kept the forward impetus of "Tacea la notte placida" flowing, and the soprano went on to regale us with her deft vocalism in "Di tale amor", etching in some very fine trills.
Igor Golovatenko gave the Count di Luna's opening lines a quiet, sustained feeling; then the power of his voice came into play. All afternoon, he would prove himself an excellent Verdi baritone. The harp sounds, and Michael Fabiano's instinctive phrasing and passionate delivery of the words of his serenade were a joy to experience. Coming forward, Mr. Fabiano's scornful "Infida!" raised the performance's temperature to the boiling point. Ms. Willis-Sorenson scorchingly brilliant "M'odi" staved off the duel until the dynamic stretta ended with a joint high D-flat from the soprano and tenor, and the adversaries' swords clanged as they rushed off.
After a truly rousing Anvil Chorus with the blacksmiths' thunderous hammerings, Jamie Barton (above in a MET Opera photo) commenced Azucena's iconic "Stride la vampa" and I was soon thinking this would be Jamie's best Met role to date. She could be deliciously subtle one moment and richly chesty the next, and her trills and top notes were really impressive. She ended the brief aria with a bang, but there was no applause. Jamie's very sustained "Mi vendica!" was another perfect touch. Ned Hanlon's powerful summons from the Old Gypsy made its mark.The gypsies headed off.
Now mother and son are alone, and Jamie commences the old woman's story: what perfect support the Maestro and his players gave to her great narrative, and how persuasive the mezzo's story-telling. As Azucena is about to tell her son the ironic truth of those moments at her mother's execution, Fabiano/Manrico takes a poignant diminuendo of "Tu forse...?" and then the fire music of the high strings gives him an answer even before his mother can say the words. Jamie nailed the top B-flat of the story's climactic moment, then sang her final lines in a sustained, chilling hush. Back in the day, this kind of singing would have stopped the show, but today there was only a brief round of applause.
A vividly expressive conversation between mother and son brings on Fabiano's "Mal reggendo" in which his lyricism and sense of ebb and flow captivates, as does his marvelously quiet "Non ferir!" This great scene now races to its end with the striking duet "Perigliarti ancor..." with some plummy chest notes from Jamie, and as well as a colorful, wide-ranging cadenza.
Maestro Callegari gave us a wonderfully stealthy opening to the Convent Scene, and then Mr. Golovatenko's great voicing of the recit leads to an exchange with Ryan Speedo Green before cresting with Di Luna's powerfully delivered "Leonora di mia!. The great aria "Il balen..." was taken slightly faster that usual; overall it was beautifully sung though there were traces of sharpness along the way. Mr. Golovatenko was heartily cheered. Another exchange with Mr. Green, with some urgent chorus passages, led to di Luna's brief cabaletta, which fades away as the nuns are heard approaching.
Above: Michael Fabiano and Igor Golovatenko as Manrico and Count di Luna; a MET Opera photo
There was a lovely exchange of farewells between Mlles. Willis-Sorenson and Hunter before all Hell breaks loose and Manrico returns from the dead. Ms. Willis-Sorenson launches the ensemble in hesitant wonder at her beloved's re-appearance...radiant top notes, and the poignant "Sei tu dal ciel discendere?" from Leonora, and then a trading of insults between her rival lovers. Suddenly Manrico's men rush in crying "Urgel viva!" and Manrico greets them with one of my favorite lines in the opera: "Miei prodi guerrieri!" The ensemble rushes to a finish but is halted for Ms. Willis-Sorenson to again beautifully voice her wonderment at her beloved's resurrection.
After the interval, Ryan Speedo Green is again superb as he urges the Count di Luna's men to victory in the coming siege. Azucena is apprehended lurking about the camp; Jamie Barton's "Giorni poveri" is expressively sung, with nice subtleties of phrasing, but after Mr. Green calls the old gypsy out, Jamie turns fiery with "Deh, rallentate...!"
Inside his besieged castle, Manrico tries to calm Leonora though his fate seems predestined. Mr. Fabiano's recit and his gorgeously phrased "Ah, si, ben mio" won him vociferous applause, though I was sensing a bit of tension in the highest notes. After a tenderly harmonized duet passage with his beloved, Ruiz (played by Daniel O'Hearn) rushed in to tell of Azucena's impending execution. Manrco's "Di quella pira" was taken at breakneck speed...very exciting...though again, Mr. Fabiano's highest notes were not thoroughly comfortable.
After the applause had died down, there was a very odd sound of someone screaming from the stage-left wing; this was followed by a moan, and the sound of someone talking on a cellphone. No idea what the problem was.
(Update: on Sunday evening at the Tucker Gala, I found out the reason for the offstage commotion. After singing the "Di quella pira", Michael Fabiano walked into the wings and tripped over something. He let out a scream and then a moan, and you could hear a walkie-talkie call summoning medics. He finished the opera, but last night at Carnegie Hall, he had to be walked unto the stage by the pianist, moving stiffly and very slowly. Kudos to Michael for keeping his commitment to the Tucker event.)
Now Ms. Willis-Sorenson regaled us with her spectacular singing in the great scene where Leonora comes to the tower where her lover is awaiting execution; she seeks to bargain with di Luna and save Manrico's life. As Ruiz, Mr. O'Hearn brings her to this dark place; his voicing of his despair over Manrico's imminent death was infinitely touching when a trace of a gentle sob spoke volumes of his devotion.
The the Met stage was now Ms. Willis-Sorenson's to own, and own she did. Absolutely phenomenal singing here! Her recit was finely phrased, then came the beloved aria "D'amor sull'ali rosee" in which the soprano held her own against memories of great Leonoras from the past. Her line was beautifully sustained, the trills lovingly defined, her tone richly lyrical. In the cresting lines "Ma deh! non dirgli, improvvido, le pene del mio cor!" did not spin the piano/pianissimo effects that many sopranos favor, but instead sounded more resolute. Her cadenza featured a lovely piano top note, on which she did a thrilling crescendo. She finished the aria with the lower ending.
In the Miserere that follows, a vivid sense of fate developed at the soprano's "Quel suon, quelle prece", and her anguish at hearing Manrico's voice singing an ardent farewell to her was palpable. Ms. Willis-Sorenson then sailed thru her cabaletta, dispensing the coloratura with aplomb and capping the scena with a house-filling high-C.
Both the diva and Mr. Golovatenko were cooking in their great duet, sung with great abandon and dramatic pointing of the text. Some people will doubtless say that the soprano left out the high-C at the end, but...it's not in the score.
In prison, awaiting execution, Manrico tries to calm his anxious mother; Mr. Fabiano sang with consoling beauty of tone whilst Ms. Barton delivered a fearsome "Parola orrendo!". Jamie's superb control made "Si, la stanchezza" so moving, and then the two singers found a lovely blend in "Ai nostri monti", with a perfect fadeway at the end. Mr. Fabiano's anger at Leonora makes sparks fly, but Jamie interrupts them with a dreamy reprise of "Ai nostri monti".
Above: Michael Fabiano and Rachel Willis-Sorenson in the opera's final scene; a MET Opera photo
Leonora reveals that her death is at hand: she has taken poison. Ms. Willis-Sorenson's "Pria che d'altri vivere" was so poignant. Her death releases di Luna from his promise, and Manrico is swiftly executed. Jamie Barton then gave the opera a flaming finish with her powerful "Sei vendicata, o madre!"
Bravi, tutti!
I went to the stage door after the performance where I met Maestro Callegari; he very kindly signed my program (above).
~ Oberon