Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Moby-Dick, San Francisco Opera, Sept. 25 2012

I was fortunate enough to be invited to a “sitzprobe” for the first San Francisco production of Jake Heggie’s new opera, Moby-Dick. (Note the hyphen, not a space, between the words; that is how he spells it.) I wasn’t sure what a sitzprobe was. It turned out to be a musical rehearsal of most of the opera: an orchestra in the pit; soloists lined up at the front of the stage, with sheet music in their hands and folding chairs to sit in when they weren’t singing; and the chorus in rows of folding chairs behind the soloists. There were no costumes, and the set was that of Rigoletto. It was strictly the music being rehearsed.

Patrick Summers, the conductor, started by taking the orchestra through some short passages, just a few measures long, that he had chosen to concentrate on. After several minutes of that, everyone launched into music starting at the first measure and went for an extended period of time. Then after a short pause it seemed that they skipped ahead a bit and performed another long section of the opera. There were two breaks, based on the time spent so far rather than the music’s division into acts.

This being a rehearsal, I’ll comment on the music rather than the performance, except to note that Jay Hunter Morris sounded fabulous as Captain Ahab. The music has many lovely passages; I was particularly struck by a choral number on “lost in the heart of the sea” or something like that (no supertitles). Some passages reminded me of La Mer or Ports of Call or the Sea Symphony. There were some passages that were sort of noisy, sounding more like “modern music,” but my hope is that they served what would be in the libretto or on stage at the moment. Without supertitles and without acting, it was hard to know just what was going on at all times. All the singers are male, with the sole exception of the cabin boy Pip, sung by Talise Trevigne. Her vocal line was the only one that struck me as jumping wildly from note to note; all of the other vocal lines were essentially lyrical. And I heard no banal lines such as “Where’s the men’s room?” or “I’m going to have to give you a geography lesson” that I’ve heard in other modern operas in English. Based on the reviews I’ve read of the initial productions, reports from friends who saw the opera in San Diego, and now my own ears, I expect the performances Oct. 10-Nov. 2 to be a triumph. I’m going to pick up a second performance, in addition to my regular season ticket—no telling when it will come to San Francisco again.


SYNOPSIS 

ACT I 

Day One: The Whaling shlp Pequod hos been at sea for one week Captain Ahab stands alone on deck in the hours before dawn. Below deck, while most of the crew sleeps, the harpooner Queequeg prays and wakes Greenhorn, a loner and newcomer to whaling. Dawn breaks and the call is made for “All Hands!” Whlle the crew is raising the ships sails, Starbuck, Stubb, and Flask talk about Ahab, whom no one has seen since the ship left Nantucket. 

The crew sings of whales, wealth, and home when suddenly, Captain Ahab appears. He tells them of Moby Dick, the white whale that took off one of his legs, then nails a gold doubloon to the mast and promises it to the man who first sights him. This is the real reason they have sailed, he explains: to search the globe to find and destroy this one whale. His rousing call of “Death to Moby Dick!” excites everyone but the first mate, Starbuck. To no avail, he confronts Ahab about what he sees as a futile and blasphemous mission. 

Starbuck instructs Greenhorn about the dangers of whaling. When he ponders never again seeing his wife and son, he is overcome with emotion and orders Queequeg to complete the lesson. Stubb sights a pod of whales, but Ahab will not allow the eager crew to hunt since they have not yet found Moby Dick. Starbuck orders the crew to sail on and sends Greenhorn up to the lookout on the masthead, joined by Queequeg. 

As the sun begins to set, Ahab looks over the wake of the ship and mourns that his obsession deprives him of any enjoyment of beauty; all is anguish to him. At the masthead, Queequeg and Greenhorn look over the world, while Starbuck, on deck, bemoans Ahab's madness. 

Day Two: Three months later After three months without a single whale hunt, Stubb jokes with the young cabin boy Pip about the sharks circling the ship. The song ignites a dance for the full crew, but rising tensions take over and a dangerous racial fight erupts. When Greenhorn suddenly sights a pod of whales, Starbuck is at last able to persuade Ahab to let the men hunt. Starbuck and Stubb harpoon whales, but Flasks boat is capsized and Pip is lost at sea. 

On board the Pequod, an enormous whale is being butchered and the oil rendered in the burning tryworks. Flask tells Ahab that the search for Pip is under way, but Ahab thinks only of finding Moby Dick. As they butcher the whale, the crew imagines Pip lost and struggling in the heart of the sea. Flask tells Starbuck that many oil barrels are leaking and he goes below to tell Ahab they must find a port for repairs. 

Ahab is unmoved by Starbucks report, and is concerned only with the white whale. When Starbuck refuses to leave, Ahab grabs a gun and orders him to his knees. From afar, Greenhorn shouts that Pip has been found. Ahab orders Starbuck out of the cabin. 

On deck, the crew listens to Greenhorn describe how Queequeg rescued Pip. As the men return to work, Greenhorn pleads with Starbuck to get help for Pip. But the first mate ignores him. Greenhorn observes how life really works on the ship and decides to befriend Queequeg. 

Starbuck returns to Ahabs cabin, where he finds the captain asleep. He picks up the gun with which Ahab had threatened him and contemplates what he should do. Pull the trigger and he may survive to see his wife and child again. When Ahab cries out in his sleep, Starbuck replaces the gun and leaves the cabin. 

ACT II 

Day Three: One year later   An enormous storm is approaching, but Stubb, Flask, and the crew sing a jolly work song. From the mastheads, Greenhorn and Queequeg talk of traveling together to his native island. Greenhorn wants to learn Queequegs language and write down their adventures. Suddenly, Queequeg collapses. The crew gets him down and Ahab announces he will take the masthead watch himself. 

Below deck, Queequeg tells Greenhorn that he is dying and asks that a coffin be built for him. Pip enters from the shadows and sings a lament, joined by Greenhorn. 

The massive storm now surrounds the Pequod. As Ahab sings defiantly to the heavens, bolts of lightning engulf the ship and the masts glow with St. Elmos Fire. Ahab demands that the men hold their posts, promising them the white flame is a sign from heaven to guide them to the white whale. The crew is inspired once again by the captain, much to Starbucks distress. 

Day Four: The next morning  The ship has made it through the storm. From afar, the voice of Gardlner, captain of the Rachel, calls out. He pleads with Ahab to help him search for his twelve-year-old son who was lost in the storm, but Ahab refuses. Pip, who has gone mad, shouts to Gardiner of the Pequods own lost boy. Pip cuts himself and gets blood on Ahabs clothes. The captain orders the ship to sail on, leaving Gardiner behind. Ahab contemplates the heartless God who devastates so many lives and baptizes his spear wlth Pips blood. 

Below deck, Greenhorn sees Queequegs newly built coffin and contemplates the madness that seems to surround him. 

On deck, Ahab and Starbuck gaze over the horizon. Ahab describes his forty years at sea and all he has left behind. And why? He cannot say. But he sees in Starbucks eye a human soul, and it touches him deeply. Starbuck seizes the moment and persuades Ahab that they should return to the wives and sons who wait for them in Nantucket. 

Just has Ahab appears to relent, he sights Moby Dick on the horizon. Great excitement ensues and the whale boats are lowered. Ahab looks again in Starbucks eye and orders him to stay on board. The crew declares its loyalty to Ahab. During the chase, Moby Dick destroys two whaleboats in succession, drowning their crews. Then, the Ppequod is rammed and sunk, killing all aboard. Ahabs boat is then attacked and all but the captain jump or fall off. Finally alone with the white whale, Ahab cries out and stabs at Moby Dick before being dragged down into the sea. 

Epilogue: Many days later   Greenhorn floats on Queequeg’s coffin, barely alive, softly singing his lost friend's prayer. Gardiner call from afar, thinking he has at last found his missing son. Instead, he learns that Ahab and all the crew of the Pequod have drowned, except for this one survivor. 

The Pearl Fishers, Opera San Jose, Sept. 23 2012

Back to San Jose to see Bizet’s The Pearl Fishers with a different cast than the cast we saw last week. Same sets, of course; same different ending from my recording, of course. I should note that the back of the stage, above the platform, was a blank slate on which could be projected a deep blue sky with a few stars, a sunset, or a night sky with lots of stars. High above the platform, in front of the sky, were suspended a number of vines. The legs on the sides of the stage were enhanced with tall, narrow intricately carved wooden panels facing the main stage.

Our cast:
Leila: Melody King
Nadir: James Callon
Zurga: Zachary Altman
Nourabad: Silas Elash
Conductor: Anthony Quartuccio
Director: Richard Harrell
Set Designer: Charlie Smith

The first three principals are all brand-new resident artists, singing their first Opera San Jose performances. Of these, Altman (Zurga) was the standout. This company has been very fortunate over the years, with many fine baritones; he sounded as though he would continue the tradition.  Callon (Nadir) was almost as good, though his “Je crois entendre” in the first act sounded weak and thin. King (Leïla) got off to a rocky start. In act 1 she sounded out of her depth, but sang relatively well in the final two acts—though her vibrato was too pronounced for my tastes. Elash (Nourabad) sounded much better than he had the previous week. Perhaps it was the second row of the orchestra vs. the first row of the balcony? The chorus sounded particularly fine, as did the orchestra under Tony Quartuccio. My companions and I thoroughly enjoyed the afternoon. A strong beta.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Rigoletto, San Francisco Opera, Sept. 19 2012

Back to San Francisco for another performance of Rigoletto, this time in the War Memorial Opera House, with an alternate cast. The sets and staging were, of course, the same as the performance seen four days earlier at AT&T Park.

Our cast for Sept. 19:
Rigoletto: Marco Vratogna
Gilda: Albina Shagimuratova
The Duke of Mantua: Arturo Chacon-Cruz
Maddalena: Kendall Gladen    
Count Monterone: Robert Pomakov
Sparafucile: Andrea Silvestrelli    
Borsa: Daniel Montenegro    
Marullo: Joo Won Kang    
A Page: Laura Krumm
Countess Ceprano: Laura Krumm
Giovanna: Renée Rapier    
Count Ceprano: Ryan Kuster    
An Usher: Jere Torkelsen
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Director: Harry Silverstein    
Set Designer: Michael Yeargan

Albina Shagimuratova, who sang Queen of the Night for us just a few months ago, made a wonderful Gilda. Days later, her “Caro nome” is still running through my mind. Vratogna and Chacon-Cruz also sang well, though not spectacularly. To my earlier appreciation of Silvestrelli and Gladen, let me add my compliments for the Marullo of Joo Won Kang, who sang quite well, and the Giovanna of Renée Rapier, superb in her aiding and abetting Gilda’s seduction by the Duke. The orchestra under maestro Luisotti played magnificently. I was in a position to watch him closely and grasp his total absorption in the music—and the orchestra responded. A strong beta.

The Pearl Fishers, Opera San Jose, Sept. 16 2012

Georges Bizet’s The Pearl Fishers is one of the oddities of the operatic literature. There are those who love it, and apparently there are those who couldn’t care less. A company with the first attitude is Opera San Jose. This is their fourth production of Pearl Fishers on my watch, which goes back to about 1986. In contrast, consider the Metropolitan Opera, whose only complete production comprised three performances, in 1916, with Enrico Caruso. Or consider San Francisco Opera, with only one main-stage production, in 2005. (SFO’s offshoot, Spring Opera Theater, performed it several times between 1962 and 1975.)

For this first production in the California Theatre, we had a lovely set that served the first and second act and the second scene of the third act. Downstage was a stone floor, with occasional 6-inch tall blocks of stone resting upon it. Upstage, and definitely up, several feet above the floor, was a platform that extended all the way from the left to the right. On stage left, stone steps led from the floor to the platform. In the center, more steps descended from the floor to the area beneath the platform, via which a number of performers entered and exited. On stage right, a large “tiki god” head rested on its chin, leaning at an angle against the side of the stage. In places, lush vines grew in profusion. It was a very impressive set. I expected that the audience would applaud it, but they did not.

The only variation in the set came in the first scene of the third act, the scene in which Leïla appeals to Zurga, offering her life if Nadir’s can be spared. The scene takes place in Zurga’s tent, which was represented by a large rectangular cloth for its wall, and a large triangular cloth for its roof.

Our cast (mostly, returning resident artists):
Leila: Cecilia Violetta López
Nadir: Alexander Boyer
Zurga: Evan Brummel
Nourabad: Silas Elash
Conductor: Andrew Whitfield
Director: Richard Harrell
Set Designer: Charlie Smith

All the principals sang competently, though not memorably. I’m a big fan of Silas Elash, but his Nourabad made me wonder whether he’s more comfortable with German opera than with French opera. The most disturbing part, though, was the cuts in the final scene. Most notably, very near the end, Nadir and Leïla are facing certain death. In the recording that I studied, they sing a lovely duet about their imminent arrival in heaven. In the performance, it was omitted, and not to squeeze the performance in under 3 hours—it lasted barely 2½ hours. Not quite a beta.

Rigoletto, San Francisco Opera, Sept. 15 2012

My first San Francisco Opera performance of the 2012-2013 season was free: for the last few years, the company has streamed a live performance directly to AT&T Park, the home of the San Francisco Giants, for approximately 30,000 attendees. Admission is free, but bottled water at the concession stand is $5, hot chocolate in the stands is $6, and the famous garlic fries are $7.50. No problem bringing your own food, but they don’t like already-opened bottles. So I did what I do at airports: brought an empty bottle and filled it from the water fountain.

The performance started at 8:00 pm and went until about 10:30. In San Francisco, that means cold. Perhaps not cold by the standards of late fall football games in Michigan, but cold enough that a cap for the head, a scarf for the neck, three layers of upper clothing, and a blanket across the knees felt really good.

The production used the same Michael Yeargan sets, seen on three prior occasions: 1997, 2001, and 2006. It’s a bit spare and stark for my tastes. A construct common to all of the acts was the sides of two buildings, said buildings extending to the left and right, with an open space in between. These walls marched off into the distance with an exaggerated perspective, intended to make the stage look deeper than it really is. Each wall was punctuated by a succession of rectangular openings with arched tops, each with a square window above it. This construct represented, respectively, the interior of the Duke’s castle, the alleyway outside Rigoletto’s home, the Duke’s castle again, and with the addition of a “reflecting pool” between the walls (i.e. the river), the street outside Sparafucile’s tavern. For the final part of the first act, the interior of Rigoletto's home slid out from the right. We saw a shallow two-level room, the interior space occupied only a box (for sitting on) on the first floor and stairs leading up to the second floor. The entire room was painted a slightly dark red that made me think of a bordello. Sparafucile’s tavern used the same slide-out room, with the addition of horizontal strips on the downstage side of the room (think lath and plaster, without the plaster). Further downstage were a table and a couple of chairs. Upstairs was the bed to which the duke retired. I'm tempted to ask for a new production, but given what we have seen in the last few years with Macbeth and Tannhäuser, it may be a case of “be careful what you ask for.”

Our cast
Rigoletto: Zeljko Lucic
Gilda: Aleksandra Kurzak
The Duke of Mantua: Francesco Demuro
Sparafucile: Andrea Silvestrelli    
Maddalena: Kendall Gladen    
Count Monterone: Robert Pomakov
Borsa: Daniel Montenegro    
Marullo: Joo Won Kang    
A Page: Laura Krumm
Countess Ceprano: Laura Krumm
Giovanna: Renée Rapier
Count Ceprano: Ryan Kuster    
An Usher: Jere Torkelsen
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Director: Harry Silverstein    
Set Designer: Michael Yeargan

Of the principals, my favorite was Zeljko Lucic, who portrayed his role convincingly, though without the pronounced limp displayed by others. Aleksandra Kurzak sang well, but failed to involve me in her character to any great extent. Francesco Demuro had an edge to his voice that did not appeal. Of the subsidiary roles, I continue to be a big fan of Andrea Silvestrelli, who can hit all of Sparafucile’s low notes with great impact. With his tousled hair and scraggly beard, he looked the part of the assassin as well. Kendall Gladen, as his sister, was very impressive, not only for her singing but her acting as well. She made tremendous use of her African-American face when she rolled her eyes in response to the Duke’s avowals of love. A beta.

Sunday, September 16, 2012

The Mikado, Lamplighters Music Theatre, August 26 2012

This was my first Gilbert and Sullivan in many years, thanks to the suggestion a friend who has recently gotten into opera in a big way, loves The Ring, but had never seen any G&S. With The Mikado being my favorite of the genre (and I’ve seen everything except Utopia Limited and The Grand Duke, which would not be contenders), it was an easy decision to make.

The set was simple but effective. As background, there was a large painting of a Japanese landscape. To the left, a set of folding screens and to the right of that a large box (think giant armoire) with many Japanese decorations. On the right there was the Mikado’s throne. And in the center, a cube a foot on each side, the executioner’s chopping block.

Our cast:
Nanki-Poo: Michael Desnoyers
Pish-Tush: John Melis
Pooh-Bah: Robby Stafford
Ko-Ko: F. Lawrence Ewing
Yum-Yum: Moira McManus
Pitti-Sing: Molly Mahoney
Peep-Bo: Talia Levitan
Katisha: Sonia Gariaeff
Mikado: Wm. H. Neil
Conductor: Monroe Kanouse
Director: Jane Erwin Hammett

 The singing and playing were commensurate with the cost of the tickets, which was rather less than our Opera San Jose tickets. I’ll have to give it a strong gamma. Stafford’s Pooh-Bah was a standout in the quality of his singing, and Ewing acted the part of Ko-Ko very well. It was a pleasure to see Sonia Gariaeff again. The Lamplighters will present Princess Ida at the end of January/beginning of February, and I'd like to go.

The Pearl Fishers, Santa Fe Opera, August 10 2012

Pearl Fishers is rare enough; how fortunate to be able to see it twice in one year! There are four productions in the US this year; Santa Fe and San Jose account for two of them. One measure of its (undeserved) obscurity is the fact that the Metropolitan Opera and the San Francisco Opera each count exactly one production in their histories. And this was Santa Fe Opera’s first production.

For the first (and last) time this week, the director took full advantage of the open-to-the-rear stage. In three of the previous operas the view to the mountains beyond was completely blocked by the set; in Tosca, much of the view was blocked by the dome of the Sant’Andrea della Valle lying on is side. Here the back of the stage was completely open. The stage was divided into two sections. Upstage was (presumably) traditional Ceylonese architecture, with stone walls right and left, each with a large opening. On the right, to the rear, was a stone sculpture of a gigantic foot.

Dividing downstage from upstage was a gigantic gold picture frame, as wide and tall as the entire set. Downstage the walls to the left and right were said to be typical of French Colonial architecture, with walls built from carved panels. I heard some attempt at an explanation of such a divided stage, the idea being to contrast the traditional Ceylonese culture with the imposed colonial culture—although it was a British crown colony. Perhaps they chose French Colonial in recognition of the French librettists and composer. But I didn’t get the point, particularly since the singers moved freely between the two worlds; the picture frame and a step down from upstage to downstage merely got in their way.

One particularly effective bit of staging came at the opening of the third act. At the end of the second act, Leïla has broken her promise to Zurga to live pure, chaste, friendless, without husband or lover, by having a long love duet with Nadir. Well, Brahma is not happy with this, and the orchestra calls up a big storm. As act 3 opened, upstage was littered with shattered fishing boats and dead bodies, testifying to the violence of the storm. And when Leïla and Nadir are about to be burned at the stake, the fuel for the fire was supplied by those shattered fishing boats. Very effective.

Earlier, at the beginning of act 1, the stage director had addressed the issue of why Zurga tells the pearl fishers that they need to choose a leader. What happened to the old leader? Was there one? Were the pearl fishers living in anarchy until Zurga stepped forward? The librettists are famously quoted as having said, if we’d known the music was going to be this good, we’d have spent more time on the libretto. So what Santa Fe did was to bring on the body of the old king, and let the queen mourn over it. Meanwhile the dancing at the beginning was suppressed, and they even changed the word “dance” to “sing.”


Our cast: 
Leïla: Nicole Cabell
Nadir: Eric Cutler
Zurga: Christopher Magiera
Nourabad: Wayne Tigges
Conductor: Emmanuel Villaume
Director: Lee Blakely

 Both of the lovers sang exceedingly well; I am particularly looking forward to hearing Cabell again as Giulietta in San Francisco’s I Capuleti e i Montecchi later this fall. Magiera simply didn’t have the projective power; he seemed out of place next to those two.  Tigges performed well without dominating his scenes. The orchestra played magnificently under their French conductor. Definitely the best experience of the entire week in Santa Fe—a strong beta.