Oberon's Grove

PROTOTYPE: Eat The Document

~ Author: Shoshana Klein

Monday January 13th, 2025  - My first PROTOTYPE show of the season was Eat the Document, on Monday evening. I really enjoyed most aspects of the show. The story was engaging, the music was good - including a few pretty catchy tunes (mostly at the beginning) - and I really appreciated the topics being explored and the character development (as much as could be expected for a relatively large cast of characters and only 90 minutes). The small band was led by a performer on upright piano, sometimes in the middle of the drama. The orchestration was rarely obtrusive and mostly supportive, except in a few moments of virtuosity. 

With a quick read over some of the program notes, staging was relatively easy to follow despite many of the performers embodying multiple characters. There were a few moments that were either unexplained or went over my head, but overall I thought it was a cohesive story despite all the jumping around, impressive for the 90-minute show. The show stated its main idea immediately: frustration at trying to make a difference and not being listened to, but in an optimistic way that felt hopeful, as if shortly the call to action would be deafening and effective. In reality, the rest of the show provided more nuance than that, exploring different ways that activists use and think of to try to make change.

 

As someone who spends a lot of time in these activist spaces, I thought the portrayal was impressively accurate - there were arguments loosely about climate that talked about direct action versus making the conversation about class (extremely relevant to conversations nowadays), and many themes about whether or not it’s worth breaking laws to bring down an immoral system. 

 

Watching people talking about trying to make a difference and screaming into the void, frustrations about their activism not being heard, under the backdrop of the current fully preventable disaster of LA wildfires and the last fully preventable destructive hurricane season was frustrating, but good to see being reflected back to me. I worry that these things are being shown to an echo chamber instead of whomever it is that needs to hear them, but at least we are thinking about it.

 

~ Shoshana Klein

Jane Rhodes ~ SALOME: Final Scene

Jane Rhodes (above) sings the final scene from Richard Strauss's SALOME in French with the Orchestre de la RTF conducted by Marcel Cariven. The broadcast dates from 1959.

Listen here.

Radvanovsky & Terfel: TOSCA @ The Met

~ Author: Oberon

Sunday January 12, 2025 matinee - I'd been looking forward to this performance since the casting was announced: Sondra Radvanovsky (photo above), whose Tosca had thrilled me twice in recent seasons, would be pitted against the Scarpia of Sir Bryn Terfel, returning to The Met after a 13-year absence. Brian Jagde's Cavaradossi had impressed in his 2021 Met appearances opposite Radvanovsky. The supporting cast was a strong one, and the conductor - Xian Zhang - had won my admiration with her Met BUTTERFLY and a Brahms REQUIEM at Carnegie Hall. 

It was especially exciting to anticipate seeing Sir Bryn on the Met stage again after so long an absence. I think I was among the very first people in this hemisphere to hear his voice, thanks to my friend Mollie in England who sent me cassettes from the 1989 Cardiff Singer of the World competition which reached me just days after the celebrated Battle of the Baritones, from which both Bryn and Dima Hvorostovsky emerged triumphant. 

The House appeared to be fully sold out this afternoon, and there were standees up in Family Circle. The opera was grandly launched with the thunderous "Scarpia" chords, and then basso William Guanbo Su (stepping in for Richard Bernstein as the escaped prisoner Angelotti) expressed the character's terror with his powerful voice. Patrick Carifizzi, the Met's go-to Sacristan, made a vivid impression, despite the annoying mutterings that have been interjected into his entry music. Carfizzi's singing always makes me want to hear him in a wider variety of roles at The Met.

Brian Jagde as Cavaradossi immediately impressed with his powerful voice. There were traces of pitchiness at first, but he settled in for "Recondita armonia": generously sung, and finished off with finesse.

A burst of applause and bravas then greeted Ms. Radvanovsky. Throughout the ensuing scene where the lovers banter about the blue eyes of the Attavanti woman in Mario's painting, the audience laughed as each new 'title' appeared on their screens. OK, OK...enough already.

Throughout their duet, the two singers reveled in their passionate lines: their voices are Met-filling, and the orchestra - sounding especially gorgeous today - supported them superbly under Xian Zhang's attentive baton. Sondra relished many subtle moments, her legato at its most delicious. At last (with final chuckles from the audience) Mario sends Tosca on her way and turns his attention to Mr. Su's Angelotti. Their exchange was a vivid mix of big voices, and Mr. Jagde's vow to save the escaped prisoner at any cost brought a monumental, sustained high B-flat before they rushed off together.

Mr. Carfizzi and the rowdy choir boys then cause a ruckus until the monstrous "Scarpia" chords sound again, and Sir Bryn suddenly stands before us, welcomed by an exciting blast of applause. And then he sang: "Un tal baccano in chiesa!", which practically blew the roof off the place. A hall-filling sound of great immediacy. Terfel/Scarpia engaged Carfizzi's Sacristan in a Q & A; both singing powerfully. Carfizzi's "Il Cavaliere Cavaradossi!" was richly enunciated. 

Tosca now returns, and we are given the fabulous scene between Tosca and Scarpia, which was electric in its sense of vocal acting. Sondra's chesty "Presago sospetta..." was followed by her outpouring of anguish, with a massive "...prigioniera!" Bryn plays on her jealousy of the Attavanti, driving her to "Tu non l'avarai stasera...!"; but Sondra shrieks on "Giuro!" which is far more effective when sung - as Tebaldi did - "from the crotch". Sondra finishes the scene with her super-charged "Egli vede ch'io piango!". The ensuing orchestral interlude was magnificently played.

Sir Bryn now commands the Hall with his epic voicing of Scarpia's lines while the choir sings the Te Deum: this was grand opera at its grandest...some of the most thrilling singing I've ever heard in this theatre.

Above: Brian Jagde and Bryn Terfel in rehearsal

As Act II starts, we again relish the grandeur of the Terfel voice. Every note and word matters, and that extends to his flunkies - Sciarrone (Christopher Job) and Tony Stevenson (Spoletta)...the latter's description of arresting Cavaradossi was particularly vivid.  The hapless Mario is brought in and is questioned as we hear the Radvanovsky voice soaring from the offstage cantata, into which the soprano also wove some incandescent subtleties. The painter is steadfast in his denials, ignoring Scapia's sinister "Io vi consiglio..." whilst meanwhile Tony Stevenson scores again with "O bei tratti di corda...!" ("Oh, for a good whipping!")

Tosca arrives as Mario is taken away to be questioned. Scarpia/Terful tries courtesy (not a Scarpia strong suit) which elicits a fiery "SoloI Si!" from Sondra. The torture begins in earnest, and there is a harrowing buildup of tension. Sondra unleashes a lightning-bolt top C, later collapsing inside with "Mi torturate!"  Told that Mario has fainted, she shrieks again on "Assassino"...which always works better with a cold growl of chest tone.

Mario/Jadge is dragged in, bloodied...Sondra's "...quanto ho penato..." is meltingly spun. News of Napoleon's defeat at the battle of Marengo ignites the tenor, who delivers a monumental "Vittoria!", followed by Sondra's knockout top-C as her lover is hauled away.

Now the heart of the opera has been reached: the great scene for Tosca and Scarpia. After briefly trying to soothe Tosca, he loses patience, and in "Gia mi dicon venal..." Terfel pours out one riveting line after another, a veritable feast of power-baritone singing. The soprano's "Vile! Vile!!" sounded silly in view of Tosca's no-win situation. 

Sondra now sang the "Vissi d'arte" like the treasure it is...introducing intriguing subtleties in her very sustained lines. The orchestra gave magical support to the spell she was weaving, cresting to a thrilling B-Flat and a long pianissimo on the ensuing G, which she then swelled again before ending on a heart-wrenching hush with "...perché me ne rimuneri cosi?" A 'golden age' ovation ensued.

Unmoved, Scarpia goads her further; Sondra's shrieks here were annoying. Tony Stevenson's Spoletta returns with the news that Angelotti committed suicide on being discovered at Mario's villa. Seeing no way out, Tosca accedes to Scarpia's demands: "Ebbene?" he asks her in a hushed whisper.

With a final, ironic "Hai ben compreso?" to the departing Spoletta, Scarpia sits down to write out a safe conduct for Tosca and Mario. Terfel sang a prolonged "Tosca! Finalmente mia!!" before Tosca knifes him; his snarling death groans were actually terrifying to hear. Sondra's "È morto! Or gli perdono!" was powerful, but her final line - "E avanti a lui tremava tutta Roma!" - seemed to end with a giggle (!)...or did it? During the act's haunting final bars, a cellphone went off. 

Xian Zhang led a poetic playing of the prelude to Act III though I must mention that, as the performance had progressed, she sometimes fell in line with other Met conductors who casually drown the singers out from time to time. Ariadne Chan-Miller sang the offstage shepherd's song nicely, though she could have been better placed to give the voice more prominence. The atmospheric clarinet solo that foretells the tenor's great aria was poignantly played, before being take up by Brian Jagde, who sounded a bit hazy at first but then gave a great outpouring of tone and a vibrant climax to the beloved "E lucevan le stelle". Ms. Radvanovsky latched onto a stunning top-C as she told of planting the knife in Scarpia's heart. Jagde sang a beautiful "O dolce mani", and moments later, Sondra shone on a silken pianissimo G at "E noi siam salvi..."; lots of blissful softness in her phrases here. The soprano and tenor then joined in a triumphant "Trionfal!", finishing with Sondra's caressing "...con mille baci..."

In their final moments together, Tosca reminds Mario to "fall properly" upon being "shot"...did Sondra actually say "Boom!" here?...I could swear that's what I heard. At any rate, the end was reached. Sondra's despairing cries on finding Mario is truly dead were rather lame, but her final jump - still holding her high B-flat - was fantastic.

I don't recall Sondra doing so many extraneous sighs and whimpers in the previous Toscas I'd seen her do; they certainly don't add anything to her interpretation, which is grandly sung and deeply involved.

There was to be a post-opera talk with the principals after today's matinee (I tried to imagine Tebaldi, del Monaco, and Gobbi being asked to do something like this after a TOSCA...). Knowing this would add up to an hour before the singers emerged at the stage door, I headed home. I'd been wanting to meet Sir Bryn, as I'd never met him before. It now seems unlikely we'll hear him again in New York City, for - as he once told a singer/friend of mine - all he really wants to do now is play golf. 

I'll never forget the day Bryn, Renee Fleming, and Cecilia Bartoli came in to do a signing at Tower Records while I was working there. The gals were all dolled up, but Bryn wore jeans and a black t-shirt. God, I love that guy! Diolch...and bravissimo!

Above: Sir Bryn Terfel was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 2017.

Bryn had this to say about it:

“A month ago a letter was sent to my agent in Cardiff and I thought it was tickets to the rugby. I was absolutely speechless when I opened it – ashen-white, my heart-rate had tripled, my mouth was completely dry. What an accolade.

I was given the CBE in 2003, The Queen’s Medal for Music in 2006 and now this is, without doubt, the icing on the cake. You have to step back and think how things have worked out for this farmer’s son from North Wales.”

~ Oberon

Cesare Valletti ~ Fauré Songs

Tenor Cesare Valletti (above) sings songs by Gabriel Fauré, with with Leo Taubman at the keyboard.

Listen here.

Valletti and I go way back: he was one of the Metropolitan Opera stars included on my very first 2-LP record set of opera arias, a gift from my parents.

Bell/Rustioni ~ NY Philharmonic

Above: Daniele Rustioni, photo by Chris Lee

~ Author: Lane Raffaldini Rubin

Thursday January 9th, 2025 - This week the New York Philharmonic debuted another accomplished, youngish conductor - this time, the esteemed opera conductor Daniele Rustioni. Rustioni is a familiar face next door at the Metropolitan Opera, where he has been making appearances in the pit since 2017 and where he will serve as Principal Guest Conductor starting in the fall, lending a hand to the overbooked Music Director Yannick Nézet-Séguin. In this program with the Philharmonic, Rustioni made a strong case for himself as a conductor of symphonic music as well as a welcome addition to the New York concert scene.

Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco’s Overture to The Merchant of Venice opened the program. Written in 1933 but last played by the Philharmonic in 1941, it was an intriguing choice for a curtain-raiser. Castelnuovo-Tedesco, a Jewish-Italian composer known for his film work in Hollywood, was a steadfast traditionalist and drew inspiration from historic literary sources for much of his music.

The piece opens with a crisp unison melody in the strings that quickly expands into textured, cinematic music in the full orchestra. The writing is tuneful and features curly orientalist lines in the oboes that pass around through the woodwinds and strings. A Hollywood-style violin solo was played with Golden-Age sound by concertmaster Frank Huang before a snarling unison string passage that elicited audible vocalizing from Rustioni himself. This music shows a clear debt to Camille Saint-Saëns’s bacchanale from Samson et Dalila (in character as well as in a handful of direct quotations) while pursuing a more narrative musical form. Hearing this music was like finding treasure in a grandparent’s attic: it showed its age (or, old-fashionedness) but its impeccable gilding and adornment still shone brightly when dusted off.

Above: Joshua Bell and Maestro Rustioni; photo by Chris Lee

Joshua Bell then joined the Philharmonic for Dvořák’s Violin Concerto. When the Czech Philharmonic played this concerto in December with Gil Shaham as the soloist, it was an intimate, gentle reading of the piece. By comparison, Bell, Rustioni, and the Philharmonic gave a much grander statement without becoming ponderous.

Bell’s playing was seamless. He handled fast arpeggiated passages with resounding flawlessness and slow melodic lines with bright, singing tone. The third movement theme was snappy and genuinely dancelike. Rustioni leveraged his experience as an opera conductor to keep the orchestra completely in sync with Bell’s solo playing. The result was a rich accompaniment that made no sacrifices in color and attack. There were brief moments where Bell’s energy seemed to lapse (surprisingly, he did not play his part from memory, occasionally relying on sheet music) but Bell’s playing remains boyishly exuberant. As an encore, he played Chopin’s Nocturne in C-sharp minor—standard enough—with the unusual addition of harp accompaniment played by Nancy Allen of the Philharmonic. Here Bell had the yearning tone that I associate with his recording of John Corigliano’s music for the film The Red Violin, singing gorgeously in the mid and low range of his instrument. Tchaikovsky’s Fourth Symphony was an ideal canvas for Rustioni and the Philharmonic. It showcased both Rustioni’s propulsive dramatic drive and mastery over contrasting characters as well as the Philharmonic’s facility in music of precision and intensity.

Tchaikovsky’s Fourth represents the explosion of sonata form that Mahler would later exploit in his symphonies. Tchaikovsky’s symphonic movements, unlike Bruckner’s, possess strong narrative contours that always drive the “action” forward and offer the listener legible forms.

In Rustioni’s reading of the piece, the first two movements give the sense of music that gradually unspools, with long melodic lines whose ends search for their next threads. Along the way, searing fanfares in the brass lead to the dreamy abstraction of masquerade-like waltzes and glimpses of foreboding crop up in the double-basses and brass. The end of the second movement exquisitely unravels when tight clusters of chords incrementally array into towering columns of ambiguous sound. The incomparably fun third movement, with its plucked strings and impossibly fast scribblings of woodwind figures was played to perfection and brought out a wide range of dynamics across the sections of the orchestra. Only in the last movement, with its triumphal music played so well by the Philharmonic players, does the piece respool itself. After this musical journey, the return of the fanfare from the first movement was immensely rewarding. The entire bloc of woodwinds was particularly strong in their various solo lines throughout the Symphony, as well as the timpani (played by Markus Rhoten) in its crucial role in this piece.

Rustioni’s conducting is one of embodiment. Accustomed to leading singers, he takes big breaths and shows in his face (especially his mouth) the kinds of feelings he wants to draw out of the musicians. He squats low to indicate pianissimo passages and unleashes courtly dance gestures if the music calls for it. Occasionally his gestures are too idiosyncratic and don’t elicit much from the players, but his conducting is always amiable, sincere, and without pretension.

~ Lane Raffaldini Rubin

Ragamala Dance Company: Children of Dharma

~ Author: Oberon

Thursday January 9th, 2025 - Ragamala Dance Company are at The Joyce this week with Children of Dharma, a visually stunning and musically entrancing production in which mother & daughters Bharatanatyam artists Aparna Ramaswamy, Ranee Ramaswamy, and Ashwini Ramaswamy portray three characters from the Hindu epic The Mahabharata.

In a scenic design by French artist Willy Cessa, projections summon up natural and architectural elements of an ancient world, as well as images of the mythic gods. The lighting - also by Mssr. Cessa - immediately established a sense of timeless beauty. While I was hoping for live music, the recorded score and narrative were remarkably clear and vivid.

Waiting for the show to start, I read thru the lengthy program note (in rather small print) and wondered how this drama could be encapsulated in a 75-minute dancework. Between the staging and the perfection of the dancing, the epic came to life in an evening that blended grandeur and subtlety in perfect measure. From the program note: "Children of Dharma invites us to contemplate our relationship with nature, with each other, and the enduring power of ancient wisdom to navigate contemporary questions of conscience."

Ominous chanting sets the mood as wisps of smoking incense waft in the air. Garrett Sour, the lone male dancer in the cast, appears as Krishna. To the sounds of flute and vocalizing, he dances, soon joined by the women. Steps and gestures are pure poetry as they dance to the rhythms of the spheres. In a male/female duet, personal contact is absent. Elaborate flute melismas are heard as the stage clears.

Projections of temple elements draw us to the court, where two silhouetted women emerge into the light. Fantastical drumming and fluting herald a long duet for the women, who represent rival factions; clad in red, and often dancing in sync to rapid vocals, their performance is engrossing. "The night is damp with un-spilled blood, the sky hangs low, clouds of un-shed tears drag it closer to Earth."

A game of dice, played in a square of light, decides the fate of the two families. A procession marks the end of the war; the deaths of a hundred sons are mourned. Krishna reappears: "Listen - do you recognize the silence? The silence in which I began. The silence from which we all emerged. The silence in which all things begin and end.".

To the sound of chanting, there is a long farewell as the mythic world vanishes before our eyes.

It was truly a moving to experience this magnificent production; memories of it will haunt me for a long time. 

~ Oberon

LA GIOCONDA ~ Geneva 1979

Above: Montserrat Caballe

A perfomance of Ponchielli's LA GIOCONDA from Geneva 1979.

Listen here.

CAST: Montserrat Caballe (Gioconda); José Carreras (Enzo); Matteo Manuguerra (Barnaba);  Maria Luisa Nave (Laura); Bonaldo Giaiotti (Alvise);  Patricia Payne (La Cieca).

CONDUCTOR: Jesus Lopez-Cobos

Daniele Gatti Conducts OEDIPUS REX

Daniele Gatti conducts a 2014 performance of Igor Stravinsky's OEDIPUS REX at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées with the Orchestre National de France and the chorus of Radio France. Pierre Arditi is the Narrator, with soloists Sonia Ganassi (Jocasta), Nikolai Schukoff (Oedipus), Georg Zeppenfeld (Tresias), John Relyea (Créon/Messenger), and Benjamin Bernheim (Shepherd).

Watch and listen here.

Jusung Gabriel Park ~ Pierrot's Tanzlied

Korean baritone Jusung Gabriel Park sings Pierrot's Tanzlied from Korngold's DIE TOTE STADT.

Watch and listen here.

I first discovered his voice when he appeared at the 2021 Cardiff Singer of the World Competition. Since then, he has been associated with the Vienna State Opera.

Dimitrova/Dunn ~ GIOCONDA Act I scene

In one of the great moments from LA GIOCONDA, when Gioconda realizes Enzo has betrayed her, Ghena Dimitrova (above) just pours out the tone.  Mignon Dunn is La Cieca, and Patryk Wroblewski is the Monk. From Chicago Lyric Opera, 1987.

Listen here.