Each summer, the Merola Opera Program invites 20-25 young singers, five apprentice coaches, and an apprentice stage director to San Francisco for several weeks of training, highlighted by a number of public performances. The first such performance is the Schwabacher Summer Concert, in which some of the “Merolini” perform not just arias but extended scenes from several operas. Costumes are generally limited to formal concert attire, but in that attire they act their parts, supported by minimal stage props and no sets. They are also supported by a full orchestra. It’s our first exposure to many fine young singers, some of whom may go on to become names to conjure with. Susan Graham and Thomas Hampson are just two such well-known Merola graduates.
This year’s Summer Concert presented excerpts from four operas: Anna Bolena, Mefistofele, The Fair Maid of Perth (Bizet), and The Rake’s Progress. Our cast:
Hadleigh Adams, bass-baritone
Elizabeth Baldwin, soprano
Joshua Baum, tenor
Seth Mease Carico, bass-baritone
Erin Johnson, mezzo-soprano
Andrew Kroes, bass
Yi Li, tenor
Chuanyue Wang, tenor
Melinda Whittington, soprano
I was thrilled at the choice of Boito’s Mefistofele. San Francisco Opera’s production of that opera in 1989, with Samuel Ramey, is more or less tied with my first Ring (Seattle, 1980) for the most overwhelming operatic experience I have ever had. Wang and Kroes gave us a respectable performance of Act 1, Scene 2 in which Faust sings of his love of man and love of God (“Dai campi, dai prati”) and Mefistofele describes himself as the spirit that negates everything (“Son lo Spirito”). Then Elizabeth Baldwin joined them for Act 4, in which Marguerite in prison explains how she killed her baby and her mother (“L’altra notte”); then she and Faust sing of the happiness that awaits them after he has helped her escape (“Lontano, lontano, lontano”). Baldwin, in the only costume of the evening (a frilly, soiled white dress) was tremendously impressive in her role. At the end I turned to my companions (who had never heard a bit of this music before) and, wide-eyed, we all said “WOW!” And the applause from the audience was thunderous. Mefistofele alone was worth the price of admission.
My other two favorites of the evening were Hadleigh Adams and Seth Mease Carico, both bass-baritones. Adams sang the role of Ralph in an excerpt from Act 2 of The Fair Maid of Perth, amidst a lot of coming and going whose meaning escaped me. Carico was also on stage for Perth, but he was saving himself for the role of Nick Shadow in the graveyard scene of The Rake’s Progress. He sang with splendid tone and dramatically portrayed the oily, evil Nick.
An alpha for the Mefistofele, a beta for the whole evening.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Monday, July 2, 2012
Attila, San Francisco Opera, July 1 2012
For only the second time in its history, San Francisco Opera presented Giuseppe Verdi’s ninth opera, Attila. The previous time was in 1991, with Samuel Ramey in the title role. Ramey was back for this second production, this time in the minor role of Leone—the renamed Pope Leo I, to keep the censors happy.
Attila comprises a prologue and three acts, but it’s short enough that it was presented with only one intermission, with a “pause, please remain at your seat” between Prologue and Act 1, and again between Acts 2 and 3. Verdi’s message was Italian unification and rejection of Austrian rule; the director’s message was to decry the destruction of theaters. To that end, the Prologue and Act 1 featured the ruins of a stone amphitheater, with stones that had been displaced and a fluted column that had fallen over. Attila made his entrance by coming through an archway at the top of the theater. (The 1991 production, with Attila being carried in astride a platform held by four men, was much more impressive.) When Attila met with the Roman general Ezio, a great swath of brightly-colored fabric, hung on a bar in a manner to created semicircular folds, was dropped to stage level. Also attached to the bar was a gigantic golden emblem depicting a wreath, spears, and fasces (see the back of a dime). Act 1 retained the amphitheater but added a very large branch from a very large oak tree, suspended high above the stage. It made me think of Norma.
In Act 2, the amphitheater remained stage left; on stage right there now appeared a portion of the kind of Italian opera house in which Attila might have received its premiere, with three rows of boxes. The right-hand side of each level was broken off as though it had been hit by a bomb. For Act 3 the director brought us to the present time, adding to the amphitheater on the right and opera house on the left a movie theater in the middle. There were tall upholstered chairs that had seen better days; in the back, a dirty gray fabric was suspended from a triangulated metal support. A movie, presumably a movie about Attila from the 1930s, played (silently) on the fabric. At first the movie was quite distracting, but as the act progressed, the contrast in the moving images decreased, making it easier to ignore. According to the program notes, the director’s “concept” was to call our attention to the destruction of historically important performing theaters to replace them with movie theaters.
Our cast:
Attila: Ferruccio Furlanetto
Uldino: Nathaniel Peake
Odabella: Lucrecia Garcia
Ezio: Quinn Kelsey
Foresto: Diego Torre
Leone (Pope Leo I): Samuel Ramey
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Director: Gabriele Lavia
Most everyone sang very well. The standout performer was Lucrecia Garcia as Odabella, who handled her difficult role with apparent ease. Diego Torre (Foresto) started his first scena with a recitative that sounded as though he hadn’t completely warmed up, but by the time he reached the cabaletta he was up to full speed. The sole disappointment (and not surprising, given his lackluster Boris Godunov of 2008) was Samuel Ramey, who is simply past his prime with a pronounced wobble in his voice. Nevertheless he got a rousing ovation at curtain call time, which was more of a “lifetime achievement” recognition than kudos for this particular afternoon. He mouthed a message to the audience, the first two words of which were obviously “Thank you,” and I can imagine that the complete message was “Thank you for your support all these years.” I wonder whether we’ll see him again.
While the orchestral playing wasn’t as sharp and clear as it had been a week ago for The Magic Flute, it was obvious that Luisotti loved the music and was a firmly committed conductor. It was the great singing that made it a solid beta. I hope we get to hear Lucrecia Garcia again.
Attila comprises a prologue and three acts, but it’s short enough that it was presented with only one intermission, with a “pause, please remain at your seat” between Prologue and Act 1, and again between Acts 2 and 3. Verdi’s message was Italian unification and rejection of Austrian rule; the director’s message was to decry the destruction of theaters. To that end, the Prologue and Act 1 featured the ruins of a stone amphitheater, with stones that had been displaced and a fluted column that had fallen over. Attila made his entrance by coming through an archway at the top of the theater. (The 1991 production, with Attila being carried in astride a platform held by four men, was much more impressive.) When Attila met with the Roman general Ezio, a great swath of brightly-colored fabric, hung on a bar in a manner to created semicircular folds, was dropped to stage level. Also attached to the bar was a gigantic golden emblem depicting a wreath, spears, and fasces (see the back of a dime). Act 1 retained the amphitheater but added a very large branch from a very large oak tree, suspended high above the stage. It made me think of Norma.
In Act 2, the amphitheater remained stage left; on stage right there now appeared a portion of the kind of Italian opera house in which Attila might have received its premiere, with three rows of boxes. The right-hand side of each level was broken off as though it had been hit by a bomb. For Act 3 the director brought us to the present time, adding to the amphitheater on the right and opera house on the left a movie theater in the middle. There were tall upholstered chairs that had seen better days; in the back, a dirty gray fabric was suspended from a triangulated metal support. A movie, presumably a movie about Attila from the 1930s, played (silently) on the fabric. At first the movie was quite distracting, but as the act progressed, the contrast in the moving images decreased, making it easier to ignore. According to the program notes, the director’s “concept” was to call our attention to the destruction of historically important performing theaters to replace them with movie theaters.
Our cast:
Attila: Ferruccio Furlanetto
Uldino: Nathaniel Peake
Odabella: Lucrecia Garcia
Ezio: Quinn Kelsey
Foresto: Diego Torre
Leone (Pope Leo I): Samuel Ramey
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Director: Gabriele Lavia
Most everyone sang very well. The standout performer was Lucrecia Garcia as Odabella, who handled her difficult role with apparent ease. Diego Torre (Foresto) started his first scena with a recitative that sounded as though he hadn’t completely warmed up, but by the time he reached the cabaletta he was up to full speed. The sole disappointment (and not surprising, given his lackluster Boris Godunov of 2008) was Samuel Ramey, who is simply past his prime with a pronounced wobble in his voice. Nevertheless he got a rousing ovation at curtain call time, which was more of a “lifetime achievement” recognition than kudos for this particular afternoon. He mouthed a message to the audience, the first two words of which were obviously “Thank you,” and I can imagine that the complete message was “Thank you for your support all these years.” I wonder whether we’ll see him again.
While the orchestral playing wasn’t as sharp and clear as it had been a week ago for The Magic Flute, it was obvious that Luisotti loved the music and was a firmly committed conductor. It was the great singing that made it a solid beta. I hope we get to hear Lucrecia Garcia again.
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