This was the second time that the Met had presented Eugene Onegin on the HD Live series, the previous time being in February of 2007 in a production that was pretty stark and sterile. This new production’s second half retained the stark and sterile, but the first half was more visually appealing.
The first act was set in a room in the Larin mansion that seemed to be a transition from “inside” to “outside.” The back wall of the set comprised about half a dozen panels of large windows, with pull-down shades in front of each window. One panel was omitted, which permitted us to look out into the garden beyond, said garden consisting of birch trees. Inside was some fairly simple wooden furniture, the kind that wouldn’t get hurt too much if subjected to the elements. To the right, a short flight of painted wooden steps led into the house proper. For Tatiana’s letter scene, the curtain came down, stagehands pushed things around to no great effect, and the curtain came back up on a room that looked pretty much the same, just darker. Then the stagehands put things back the way they were for the final scene.
Act 2 Scene 1 was set in the ballroom of the Larin estate. This time we saw back to the rear wall of the ballroom, with a large opening (the width of several doors) to another large room. A few windows in the back wall, and a few upholstered dining chairs completed the set. For Scene 2, the duel, we returned to stark and sterile, not that the previous scenes had been particularly lavish. The ground was black and shiny, and dotted with a few small leafless trees; a larger, fallen leafless tree occupied much of center stage. Well, it’s winter, that’s OK.
In Act 3, several years later, we were at another ball, this time in St. Petersburg. The ballroom dancers needed to navigate among a number of wide marble columns that rose out of sight. An simple but elegant upholstered dining chair was positioned in front of each of the forward columns. Scene 2 dimmed the lights, removed the chairs, retained the columns, and added a small leafless tree and falling snow.
Our cast:
Eugene Onegin: Mariusz Kwiecien
Tatiana: Anna Netrebko
Olga: Oksana Volkova
Lenski: Piotr Beczala
Prince Gremin: Alexei Tanovitski
Conductor: Valery Gergiev
Production: Deborah Warner
Director: Fiona Shaw
Most of the principals sang well, although the general mood seemed subdued; Anna Netrebko, whom I have been following for nearly 20 years, was more suited to the matronly role of Mrs. Gremin than to the young woman who fell head-over-heels for Onegin. Alexei Tanovitski must have been having an off day. I’ve not heard him before, but his aria for Prince Gremin in Act 3 fell flat, I’ve heard better from regional opera companies. I doubt that this performance will have any staying power at all in my memory, so it’s short of a beta.
Monday, October 28, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Mefistofele, San Francisco Opera, Sept. 29 2013
I wish that I could have seen every performance of Boito’s Mefistofele, but other things got in the way. The music is wonderful, the sets were magnificent, the entire performance was “beyond spectacular” in the words of a friend who sings bass for Opera San Jose. But I only got to see the dress rehearsal, the performance of Sept. 20, and this penultimate performance. This cast was the same as the cast of Sept. 20, with the exception of Elena.
Our cast:
Mefistofele: Ildar Abdrazakov
Faust: Ramon Vargas
Wagner: Chuanyue Wang
Margherita: Patricia Racette
Elena: Marina Harris
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Production: Robert Carsen
Again, a fabulous afternoon in the theater, but Samuel Ramey still owns the role of Mefistofele for all time. Almost an alpha. It was 19 years between productions in San Francisco; I hope we don’t have to wait that long again.
Our cast:
Mefistofele: Ildar Abdrazakov
Faust: Ramon Vargas
Wagner: Chuanyue Wang
Margherita: Patricia Racette
Elena: Marina Harris
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Production: Robert Carsen
Again, a fabulous afternoon in the theater, but Samuel Ramey still owns the role of Mefistofele for all time. Almost an alpha. It was 19 years between productions in San Francisco; I hope we don’t have to wait that long again.
Falstaff, Opera San Jose, Sept. 17 2013
Back to San Jose to see Falstaff again, this time with the other cast than the one that we saw on Sept. 12. (Opera San Jose presents eight performances of each opera, four performances by “Cast 1” and four by “Cast A”.) The sets and direction were the same as before, just different singers.
Our cast (Cast 1):
Falstaff: Steven Condy
Fenton: Marc Schreiner
Alice Ford: Rebekah Camm
Ford: Evan Brummel
Bardolfo: Chris Coyne
Pistola: Johann Schram Reed
Meg Page: Buffy Baggott
Dame Quickly: Patrice Houston
Dr. Caius: Michael Desnoyers
Nannetta: Sarah Duchovnay
Conductor: Ming Luke
Director: Jose Maria Condemi
Again, the performance was highly enjoyable, though it didn’t quite reach the level of Cast A. My friends who saw only Cast 1 were very pleased with what they heard. I’ll leave it with a strong beta.
Our cast (Cast 1):
Falstaff: Steven Condy
Fenton: Marc Schreiner
Alice Ford: Rebekah Camm
Ford: Evan Brummel
Bardolfo: Chris Coyne
Pistola: Johann Schram Reed
Meg Page: Buffy Baggott
Dame Quickly: Patrice Houston
Dr. Caius: Michael Desnoyers
Nannetta: Sarah Duchovnay
Conductor: Ming Luke
Director: Jose Maria Condemi
Again, the performance was highly enjoyable, though it didn’t quite reach the level of Cast A. My friends who saw only Cast 1 were very pleased with what they heard. I’ll leave it with a strong beta.
Falstaff, Opera San Jose, Sept. 12 2013
Falstaff was Verdi’s final opera, following Aida and Otello, and only his second comedy—his first, Un Giorno di Regno, had bombed at its premiere. It’s rather different than his prior operas. There is only one proper “aria” (Falstaff’s discourse on honor, and Ford’s on cuckoldry, are “monologues”), and the melodies come so thick and fast that it’s easy to get the impression that there are no melodies. Studying for the opera beforehand is always productive, but I got even more than usual out of studying (and presenting) Falstaff. I had seen Falstaff a few times, and had never gotten much out of it. This time, with study and with a top-notch performance by Opera San Jose, I finally got it.
The sets were simple but lovely. All six scenes were set, more or less, within a gigantic wine barrel, befitting Falstaff’s love of drink and the fact that half the scenes take place within or just outside a tavern. It was as though you were looking through a wine barrel, from the middle back to the end. There were three huge three-quarter circles (“ribs”) that encompassed the stage, the largest one in front, the smallest in back. In Act 1 Scene 1, the back of the barrel (or its bottom) was rough-hewn wood, with a small door at the bottom through which characters could enter and exit. At the left there was a small pile of barrels; to the right, a table made from a slab of wood supported by two barrels. For Scene 2, we moved to Ford’s home. The back (bottom) of the barrel opened up to reveal a garden with a green hedge running from left to right just in back of the barrel, and a couple of staircases were present at left and right.
Act 2 Scene 1 was back at the tavern, with the same set as before. In Scene 2 we were in a different room in Ford’s house. Now the back of the barrel was the fine wood of a drawing-room, with a deer’s head mounted on a plaque on the wall. In addition to the staircases, there was a bit of furniture: a chair, a table, a cabinet, and of course a folding screen that first Falstaff and then Fenton and Nannetta could hide behind.
Act 3 Scene 1 was back at the tavern, but this time outside of it. To the left was a pile of straw, with a couple of wine barrels imbedded in the straw. Falstaff was brought in in a rustic wooden wheelbarrow and unceremoniously dumped into the pile of straw. Act 3 Scene 2 was set in Windsor Forest. The back of the barrel was open again; just in front of it was a gigantic tree with a very large elliptical hole cut into the trunk, easily large enough for the characters to walk through.
Our cast:
Falstaff: Scott Bearden
Fenton: James Callon
Alice Ford: Jennifer Forni
Ford: Zachary Altman
Bardolfo: Jonathan Smucker
Pistola: Silas Elash
Meg Page: Lisa Chavez
Dame Quickly: Nicole Birkland
Dr. Caius: Robert Norman
Nannetta: Cecilia Violetta López
Conductor: Andrew Whitfield
Director: Jose Maria Condemi
What a team! Scott Bearden should be singing Falstaff all over the country, and everyone else supported him admirably. The performance had the life and the sparkle that a comedy needs. San Francisco Opera and the Metropolitan opera have also scheduled Falstaff for this fall, and they are going to be hard-pressed to top this one. We’re getting into alpha territory here.
The sets were simple but lovely. All six scenes were set, more or less, within a gigantic wine barrel, befitting Falstaff’s love of drink and the fact that half the scenes take place within or just outside a tavern. It was as though you were looking through a wine barrel, from the middle back to the end. There were three huge three-quarter circles (“ribs”) that encompassed the stage, the largest one in front, the smallest in back. In Act 1 Scene 1, the back of the barrel (or its bottom) was rough-hewn wood, with a small door at the bottom through which characters could enter and exit. At the left there was a small pile of barrels; to the right, a table made from a slab of wood supported by two barrels. For Scene 2, we moved to Ford’s home. The back (bottom) of the barrel opened up to reveal a garden with a green hedge running from left to right just in back of the barrel, and a couple of staircases were present at left and right.
Act 2 Scene 1 was back at the tavern, with the same set as before. In Scene 2 we were in a different room in Ford’s house. Now the back of the barrel was the fine wood of a drawing-room, with a deer’s head mounted on a plaque on the wall. In addition to the staircases, there was a bit of furniture: a chair, a table, a cabinet, and of course a folding screen that first Falstaff and then Fenton and Nannetta could hide behind.
Act 3 Scene 1 was back at the tavern, but this time outside of it. To the left was a pile of straw, with a couple of wine barrels imbedded in the straw. Falstaff was brought in in a rustic wooden wheelbarrow and unceremoniously dumped into the pile of straw. Act 3 Scene 2 was set in Windsor Forest. The back of the barrel was open again; just in front of it was a gigantic tree with a very large elliptical hole cut into the trunk, easily large enough for the characters to walk through.
Our cast:
Falstaff: Scott Bearden
Fenton: James Callon
Alice Ford: Jennifer Forni
Ford: Zachary Altman
Bardolfo: Jonathan Smucker
Pistola: Silas Elash
Meg Page: Lisa Chavez
Dame Quickly: Nicole Birkland
Dr. Caius: Robert Norman
Nannetta: Cecilia Violetta López
Conductor: Andrew Whitfield
Director: Jose Maria Condemi
What a team! Scott Bearden should be singing Falstaff all over the country, and everyone else supported him admirably. The performance had the life and the sparkle that a comedy needs. San Francisco Opera and the Metropolitan opera have also scheduled Falstaff for this fall, and they are going to be hard-pressed to top this one. We’re getting into alpha territory here.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Mefistofele, San Francisco Opera, Sept. 20 2013
San Francisco Opera’s 1989 production of Arrigo Boito’s Mefistofele was, and still is, one of my peak experiences in an opera house. The Robert Carsen staging was inventive and served the music and the text rather than doing violence to them. The music was new (to me) and exciting, with lots of superb choral writing. Samuel Ramey as the title character was at the peak of his form. As the announcer on the Sirius/XM Metropolitan Opera channel said, “he was born to perform this role.” Ramey came back for a reprise in 1994. It did not seem to be quite as effective. I wasn’t sure whether the newness and vitality of the opera and its production had worn off, or whether Ramey wasn’t quite the dominating presence that he had been before. Nevertheless, it was another outstanding performance. Mefistofele then disappeared from the San Francisco Opera stage for many years. Even when Pamela Rosenberg initiated a “Faust Project,” with many different composers’ and librettists’ take on the Faust legend, Mefistofele was conspicuously absent. The one time I ever got to talk with Rosenberg, I asked her about this absence, and she said that the sets had gotten so beat up that they were no longer usable. Furthermore, 1989 had receded further and further into history, and I wondered to myself: suppose they did bring back Mefistofele? Ramey had left a gigantic pair of shoes to fill—would anyone be willing to step into those shoes? I’d love to see Kirk Eichelberger do it, but I knew that would be a long shot.
So I was thrilled to see Mefistofele announced as the opening-night opera for San Francisco’s 2013-2014 season. And they even managed to refurbish, or maybe even reconstruct, the Robert Carsen sets, which appeared to depict God’s own opera house. When the curtain went up for the Prologue in Heaven, it revealed another curtain behind it, this one red, with subtle flame projections playing on its surface. To the left and right of the stage were opera boxes, semicircular projections that each accommodated three angels in white garb and white masks. At the top of the stage were a number of white plaster life-size figures with large wings—more angels, with trumpets to their lips. When the red curtain was raised, we saw a scrim with projections of white fluffy clouds that subtly changed shape and slowly descended to stage level. The illumination was gradually turned up behind the scrim to reveal the back wall of a European-style opera house: five towers each having three levels of semicircular boxes, with three chorus members in each box. More angels/opera patrons were seated on stage. For the end of the Prologue, the seated choristers rose and advanced to the front of the stage as they sang (and the orchestra played) an fff finale. Thrilling!
Act 1 Scene 1 (Easter Sunday) was the most colorful and action-packed scene I have ever seen. Most of the large chorus were dressed in brightly-colored clothes and costumes; there were three stilt-walkers, and several of the chorus wore animal costumes, of which the giraffe was the most obvious. A brief procession carried a statue of Christ through the crowd, and later there were a couple of representations of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, including one in which they ate the apple, cast off several layers of clothes, and then went at each other. A friend whose son was in the children’s chorus in the Prologue and Epilogue told me that the children weren’t allowed to see the rest of the opera. And the sets: the five towers of the Prologue had been repositioned and turned sideways. Their sides looked like time-worn stone walls. But with all the action at the front of the stage, the sets in the background were merely incidental. Act 1 Scene 2 in Faust’s study featured a very long (at least half the width of the stage) refracting telescope that was pointed at a square hole that had been cut at the top left of the red curtain from the Prologue. Through the hole could be seen a number of stars. At the end of the act, Mefistofele attached a rope to a harness that Faust wore, the red curtain was raised revealing (in dim light) the boxes of the opera house, and Faust was hoisted several feet in the air as Mefistofele offers to take him “through the air” to wherever he would like to go.
Act 2 Scene 1 was something of a mystery to me. At the rear of the stage, a very large canvas had been hung in front of the box seats; it was painted with blue sky and white clouds, and two red-headed painters (house painters, not artist painters) were working on it. In the center of the stage was a tilted circular platform with four apple trees growing out of it. Its surface looked like Astroturf, and a number of red apples lay on it. To the right, a supernumerary bent over a bucket of apples, peeling them one by one. Near the end of the scene she got up from her chair and worked a large crank that made the circular platform go round and round. I didn’t get it—but it wasn’t offensive, it just didn’t communicate with me. Act 2 Scene 2 is the Walpurgis Night, otherwise known as the Witches’ Sabbath. The scene began with Mefistofele entering the box seats at the left of the stage, descending a ladder to the stage, then ascending another ladder on the right of the stage, all the while pulling a large golden rope. Then Faust appeared, holding the other end of the rope, and similarly descended the ladder, crossed the stage, and climbed up the other ladder. When the curtain behind them rose, we first saw in the dim light a small moon at the back of the stage, with two strings of Christmas tree lights running from the moon to each side of the front of the stage. As the lights went up, we saw a very long table running from the front of the stage to the back. Witches and warlocks were partying in their underwear. Some appeared to not even be wearing underwear, but close examination revealed unnatural stretch marks in what were otherwise extremely effective body suits. When Faust had his vision of Marguerite, a glass box containing a nude woman appeared above stage level and at the rear of the stage; she turned around very slowly as Faust sang that she resembled his Marguerite.
In Act 3, the death of Marguerite, the set referred back to the apple orchard of Act 2 Scene 1. The circular apple orchard had been devastated: the trees were black, twisted shadows of their former selves, while the circular platform was blackened and devastated, with what seemed like a small sinkhole in the middle. The lighting of the back of the stage was pretty dim, but at least one of the towers of box seats was there, because Faust and Mefistofele sang their first lines from one of the boxes.
Act 4, the Classical Walpurgis Night, also known as the Helen of Troy scene, was set in ancient Greece. (Q: What in the hell is Helen of Troy doing in this opera? A: Helen of Troy is in Goethe’s Faust, but in Part 2. Gounod only used Part 1 for his Faust. Boito tried to incorporate Part 2 into his opera, but Part 2 is largely mystical and philosophical and does not lend itself well to opera. And if you trace the Faust legend back through history, you will find that in some of the oldest legends, Faust marries Helen of Troy and has a child by her.) In front of the scrim there were flat cut-outs of Ionian columns and a Greek temple and various kinds of shrubbery. After the scrim rose, we saw another crowd of seated operagoers toward the back of the stage. After Faust had presented a single red rose to Helen, the crowd stood up and advanced toward the front of the stage, then all of the men (dressed in white tie and tails) each presented Helen with a large bouquet of red roses as Helen dropped Faust’s single rose on the floor.
The Epilogue began in Mefistofele’s dressing room. Toward the right of the stage was a coat hanger on wheels, vaguely similar (but simpler) to what you might find in a hotel to help you move your stuff from your car to your room. The floor was strewn with a number of Mefistofele’s cloaks, while Mefistofele himself sat in a chair and flung playing cards around one by one. As Faust’s death approached and the heavenly chorus began to sing, the red curtain behind them rose to reveal God’s opera house of the Prologue, populated as before with angels in the boxes and angels on stage. Six angels carried Faust’s body toward the rear of the stage, while three angels hoisted Mefistofele, writhing and whistling, and carried him off as well. The chorus and the orchestra again built to a tremendous fff climax, with the same music that ended the Prologue.
Our cast:
Mefistofele: Ildar Abdrazakov
Faust: Ramon Vargas
Wagner: Chuanyue Wang
Margherita/Elena: Patricia Racette
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Production: Robert Carsen
I very much enjoyed the 2013 Mefistofele, though it fell a bit short of the 1989 performances. As others will probably say about Enrico Caruso or Lauritz Melchior or Lily Pons or Maria Callas, I will say about Samuel Ramey that there will never be another Mefistofele to equal his. He owns that role for all time. Abdrazakov certainly sang well enough, but Ramey had more heft and authority in his voice. Ramey also had an authority of movement that is without equal, at least among basses. I have to wonder whether Ramey had ballet training. When a ballet dancer simply moves his arm, he does so with an authority that is lacking when a regular person makes the same motion. Ramey had that same kind of authority, which I did not find in Abdrazakov. Boito’s Faust may not be Ramon Vargas’s best role. He sounded pinched and constrained and effortful in his singing. Patricia Racette sang beautifully but she lacked the wow! factor of her Butterfly. The chorus and orchestra were simply magnificent. I saw the dress rehearsal and will see another performance as well, for a total of three, and I wish that my schedule would permit me to see even more. Not quite an alpha.
So I was thrilled to see Mefistofele announced as the opening-night opera for San Francisco’s 2013-2014 season. And they even managed to refurbish, or maybe even reconstruct, the Robert Carsen sets, which appeared to depict God’s own opera house. When the curtain went up for the Prologue in Heaven, it revealed another curtain behind it, this one red, with subtle flame projections playing on its surface. To the left and right of the stage were opera boxes, semicircular projections that each accommodated three angels in white garb and white masks. At the top of the stage were a number of white plaster life-size figures with large wings—more angels, with trumpets to their lips. When the red curtain was raised, we saw a scrim with projections of white fluffy clouds that subtly changed shape and slowly descended to stage level. The illumination was gradually turned up behind the scrim to reveal the back wall of a European-style opera house: five towers each having three levels of semicircular boxes, with three chorus members in each box. More angels/opera patrons were seated on stage. For the end of the Prologue, the seated choristers rose and advanced to the front of the stage as they sang (and the orchestra played) an fff finale. Thrilling!
Act 1 Scene 1 (Easter Sunday) was the most colorful and action-packed scene I have ever seen. Most of the large chorus were dressed in brightly-colored clothes and costumes; there were three stilt-walkers, and several of the chorus wore animal costumes, of which the giraffe was the most obvious. A brief procession carried a statue of Christ through the crowd, and later there were a couple of representations of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, including one in which they ate the apple, cast off several layers of clothes, and then went at each other. A friend whose son was in the children’s chorus in the Prologue and Epilogue told me that the children weren’t allowed to see the rest of the opera. And the sets: the five towers of the Prologue had been repositioned and turned sideways. Their sides looked like time-worn stone walls. But with all the action at the front of the stage, the sets in the background were merely incidental. Act 1 Scene 2 in Faust’s study featured a very long (at least half the width of the stage) refracting telescope that was pointed at a square hole that had been cut at the top left of the red curtain from the Prologue. Through the hole could be seen a number of stars. At the end of the act, Mefistofele attached a rope to a harness that Faust wore, the red curtain was raised revealing (in dim light) the boxes of the opera house, and Faust was hoisted several feet in the air as Mefistofele offers to take him “through the air” to wherever he would like to go.
Act 2 Scene 1 was something of a mystery to me. At the rear of the stage, a very large canvas had been hung in front of the box seats; it was painted with blue sky and white clouds, and two red-headed painters (house painters, not artist painters) were working on it. In the center of the stage was a tilted circular platform with four apple trees growing out of it. Its surface looked like Astroturf, and a number of red apples lay on it. To the right, a supernumerary bent over a bucket of apples, peeling them one by one. Near the end of the scene she got up from her chair and worked a large crank that made the circular platform go round and round. I didn’t get it—but it wasn’t offensive, it just didn’t communicate with me. Act 2 Scene 2 is the Walpurgis Night, otherwise known as the Witches’ Sabbath. The scene began with Mefistofele entering the box seats at the left of the stage, descending a ladder to the stage, then ascending another ladder on the right of the stage, all the while pulling a large golden rope. Then Faust appeared, holding the other end of the rope, and similarly descended the ladder, crossed the stage, and climbed up the other ladder. When the curtain behind them rose, we first saw in the dim light a small moon at the back of the stage, with two strings of Christmas tree lights running from the moon to each side of the front of the stage. As the lights went up, we saw a very long table running from the front of the stage to the back. Witches and warlocks were partying in their underwear. Some appeared to not even be wearing underwear, but close examination revealed unnatural stretch marks in what were otherwise extremely effective body suits. When Faust had his vision of Marguerite, a glass box containing a nude woman appeared above stage level and at the rear of the stage; she turned around very slowly as Faust sang that she resembled his Marguerite.
In Act 3, the death of Marguerite, the set referred back to the apple orchard of Act 2 Scene 1. The circular apple orchard had been devastated: the trees were black, twisted shadows of their former selves, while the circular platform was blackened and devastated, with what seemed like a small sinkhole in the middle. The lighting of the back of the stage was pretty dim, but at least one of the towers of box seats was there, because Faust and Mefistofele sang their first lines from one of the boxes.
Act 4, the Classical Walpurgis Night, also known as the Helen of Troy scene, was set in ancient Greece. (Q: What in the hell is Helen of Troy doing in this opera? A: Helen of Troy is in Goethe’s Faust, but in Part 2. Gounod only used Part 1 for his Faust. Boito tried to incorporate Part 2 into his opera, but Part 2 is largely mystical and philosophical and does not lend itself well to opera. And if you trace the Faust legend back through history, you will find that in some of the oldest legends, Faust marries Helen of Troy and has a child by her.) In front of the scrim there were flat cut-outs of Ionian columns and a Greek temple and various kinds of shrubbery. After the scrim rose, we saw another crowd of seated operagoers toward the back of the stage. After Faust had presented a single red rose to Helen, the crowd stood up and advanced toward the front of the stage, then all of the men (dressed in white tie and tails) each presented Helen with a large bouquet of red roses as Helen dropped Faust’s single rose on the floor.
The Epilogue began in Mefistofele’s dressing room. Toward the right of the stage was a coat hanger on wheels, vaguely similar (but simpler) to what you might find in a hotel to help you move your stuff from your car to your room. The floor was strewn with a number of Mefistofele’s cloaks, while Mefistofele himself sat in a chair and flung playing cards around one by one. As Faust’s death approached and the heavenly chorus began to sing, the red curtain behind them rose to reveal God’s opera house of the Prologue, populated as before with angels in the boxes and angels on stage. Six angels carried Faust’s body toward the rear of the stage, while three angels hoisted Mefistofele, writhing and whistling, and carried him off as well. The chorus and the orchestra again built to a tremendous fff climax, with the same music that ended the Prologue.
Our cast:
Mefistofele: Ildar Abdrazakov
Faust: Ramon Vargas
Wagner: Chuanyue Wang
Margherita/Elena: Patricia Racette
Conductor: Nicola Luisotti
Production: Robert Carsen
I very much enjoyed the 2013 Mefistofele, though it fell a bit short of the 1989 performances. As others will probably say about Enrico Caruso or Lauritz Melchior or Lily Pons or Maria Callas, I will say about Samuel Ramey that there will never be another Mefistofele to equal his. He owns that role for all time. Abdrazakov certainly sang well enough, but Ramey had more heft and authority in his voice. Ramey also had an authority of movement that is without equal, at least among basses. I have to wonder whether Ramey had ballet training. When a ballet dancer simply moves his arm, he does so with an authority that is lacking when a regular person makes the same motion. Ramey had that same kind of authority, which I did not find in Abdrazakov. Boito’s Faust may not be Ramon Vargas’s best role. He sounded pinched and constrained and effortful in his singing. Patricia Racette sang beautifully but she lacked the wow! factor of her Butterfly. The chorus and orchestra were simply magnificent. I saw the dress rehearsal and will see another performance as well, for a total of three, and I wish that my schedule would permit me to see even more. Not quite an alpha.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Der Ring des Nibelungen, Seattle Opera, August 12-17 2013
The Seattle Ring is likely to be the most beautiful Ring in current memory, or perhaps ever. In contrast to the more or less bizarre “concepts” of Francesca Zambello, Achim Freyer, Robert Lepage, and Frank Castorf, Stephen Wadsworth gave us gave us a production that was faithful to Wagner’s intentions. Only one directorial decision seemed out of place: the confrontation between Wotan and Fricka in Act 2 of Die Walküre took place at Hunding’s hut rather than in Valhalla or at a “wild, craggy place” that the stage directions call for. The idea was that Wotan and Fricka are visiting the scene of the crime of Act 1. Not an entirely outrageous idea, but one that did raise eyebrows.
The scenery of the Seattle Ring was intended to echo that of the Pacific Northwest, specifically that of Hurricane Ridge on the Olympic Peninsula. The attempt was quite successful; the day after Götterdämmerung found me at Mason Lake, and the appearance of the forest was a strong reminder of what I had recently seen on stage.
Das Rheingold opens in the Rhine (in the Rhine, as Anna Russell put it). This Rhine had a rocky bottom, rising strongly upwards on the right, with a promontory in the middle. The lump of gold that Alberich will steal and forge into a ring was positioned at the top of this promontory. To avoid being seen before the sunlight hit it, it was covered by a dark cloth. At the appropriate moment, a stagehand removed the cloth to expose the gold. In a masterpiece of staging, the three Rhinedaughters (not Rhinemaidens, Speight Jenkins frequently admonished us) were supported on trapezes high in the air. They could rotate about their hips, and with the aid of two stagehands per Rhinedaughter pulling on ropes “swim” up and down and left and right. It was a low-key but very impressive spectacle.
Act 1 Scene 2 is set in the forest, with a projection in back of the newly-constructed Valhalla. Douglas firs grew out of a low grassy ridge; a former giant of the forest lay on its side at the summit of the ridge. To the right was a rocky face with an entrance to a cave, from which Alberich’s slaves would later emerge carrying the gold to ransom Freia. It was this scene that was most evocative of the Pacific Northwest and the forest around Mason Lake.
Scene 3 in Nibelheim looked like the side of a cave, with horizontal ledges of black coal as the primary feature and many sections of golden-colored rock that looked like glowing briquets. Most of the action took place on a projecting ledge with an opening behind it. The singers were lit from the sides, so that all Alberich had to do to disappear was to jump backward into that opening and disappear from the light. No puffs of smoke or shrinking under a cape were required.
Scene 4 was the same as Scene 2. The gold blocks that were Freia’s ransom were strange. Rather than rough-hewn blocks in the same size and shape as rocks that you would use to make a rough wall, this gold had a more detailed structure. Some of the pieces looked like bundles of golden sticks.
Die Walküre Act 1 takes place in Hunding’s hut, where he lives with Sieglinde in a forced marriage. To the left was a dark, dense, nearly impenetrable forest with a small path through it. The stage was dominated by the hut on the right, a large quarter-dome-style structure made of rough-hewn wood with a tremendous tree trunk growing up through the middle of the roof. A table and a couple of chairs rudely constructed from wood were positioned near the base of the tree. Nothung, the sword in the tree, was very effectively hidden until it was needed.
Act 2 continued in Hunding’s hut, then moved to “a rocky pass” as Wagner specified. To the left was a sheer rock wall; in the center a flat area; to the right a forest that rose up quickly yet gradually enough to permit a trail with two switchbacks. For the Annunciation of Death scene, Brünnhilde appeared at the upper switchback, overlooking the central flat area.
Act 3 was not “at the summit of a rocky mountain” but rather high up a mountain of sheer rock. All of the action took place on a relatively narrow path about ten feet above the stage floor. This path curved around the left side of the mountain. Behind the path was the entrance to a cave, and the rock face soared upward out of sight above the cave.
Siegfried Act 1 repurposed the set of Das Rheingold Acts 2 and 4, with the addition of a rude wooden shelter just to the left and above the cave entrance. Act 2 was back at the set of the second part of Die Walküre Act 2. A bloody spot on the sheer rock face on the left marked the spot at which Hunding had killed Siegmund. There was now a hole in that rock face through which we could see the tail of Fafner the dragon. When the dragon came out of his cave to fight Siegfried, the head and neck came around from in back of the rock face. The first part of Act 3 was new scenery, a completely vertical rock face of red sandstone. It was not particularly smooth; there were enough features in it that I could imagine an expert climber finding enough footholds and handholds to climb it. The final part of Act 3 was back at Brünnhilde’s rock, the same set as Act 3 of Die Walküre.
Götterdämmerung opened with the Norns singing in front of the red standstone cliff of Siegfried Act 3 Scene 1; the second prologue with Siegfried and Brünnhilde took place on Brünnhilde’s rock. The Hall of the Gibichungs was mostly wooden walls made up of heavy wooden beams and posts for the main structure and thin vertical slats for the surfaces of the walls. The beams were carved with various symbols and representations of Teutonic and Nordic mythology. Speight confirmed someone’s observation that it was designed to look like a Norwegian stave church. Act 1 concluded back at Brünnhilde’s rock. Act 2 was back at the Hall of the Gibichungs. Scene 1 of Act 3 found us back at the spot where Hunding killed Siegmund, but now a small pool had been added for the Rhinedaughters to play in. Hagen killed Siegfried at the same spot that Siegmund had been killed. Scene 2 was back at the Hall of the Gibichungs. For the finale, a lot went on. A small circular floating platform bearing all of the principal characters sort of drifted around and above the stage. After more sleight-of-hand with scrims and projections, we ended up almost where we started, with the forest scene of Das Rheingold Scene 2.
Our cast:
Woglinde: Jennifer Zetlan
Wellgunde: Cecelia Hall
Flosshilde: Renee Tatum
Alberich: Richard Paul Fink
Fricka: Stephanie Blythe
Wotan: Greer Grimsley
Freia: Wendy Bryn Harmer
Fasolt: Andrea Silvestrelli
Fafner: Daniel Sumegi
Froh: Ric Furman
Donner: Markus Brück
Loge: Mark Schowalter
Mime: Dennis Petersen
Erda: Lucille Beer
Siegmund: Stuart Skelton
Sieglinde: Margaret Jane Wray
Hunding: Andrea Silvestrelli
Brünnhilde: Alwyn Mellor
Gerhilde: Wendy Bryn Harmer
Helmwige: Jessica Klein
Waltraute (Die Walküre): Suzanne Hendrix
Schwertleite: Luretta Bybee
Ortlinde: Tamara Mancini
Siegrune: Sarah Heitzel
Grimgerde: Renee Tatum
Rossweisse: Cecelia Hall
Siegfried: Stefan Vinke
Forest Bird: Jennifer Zetlan
First Norn: Luretta Bybee
Second Norn: Stephanie Blythe
Third Norn: Margaret Jane Wray
Gunther: Markus Brück
Hagen: Daniel Sumegi
Gutrune: Wendy Bryn Harmer
Waltraute (Götterdämmerung): Stephanie Blythe
Conductor: Asher Fisch
Director: Stephen Wadsworth
It was a wonderful experience all the way around. I envy my friends who attended two or even all three cycles. The most outstanding singers were Stefan Vinke as Siegfried and Stephanie Blythe in her various roles. I finally figured out a way to communicate what it was like to see Rita Hunter, who had blown me away as Brünnhilde in my first Ring cycle in 1980: take Stephanie Blythe, add a hundred pounds, raise her voice into soprano territory, and you’d have the Rita Hunter that I remember. Stefan Vinke had everything that you could want in a Siegfried. I’m also a big Andrea Silvestrelli fan, and he did not disappoint. Ric Furman made a more authoritative Froh than I usually see. Alywn Mellor sang well, but she had an annoying and distracting back-and-forth head motion. The orchestra under Ascher Fisch was wonderful, aside from more bloopers from the horns than I would expect from an orchestra of this level. A superb experience, but short of an alpha.
The scenery of the Seattle Ring was intended to echo that of the Pacific Northwest, specifically that of Hurricane Ridge on the Olympic Peninsula. The attempt was quite successful; the day after Götterdämmerung found me at Mason Lake, and the appearance of the forest was a strong reminder of what I had recently seen on stage.
Das Rheingold opens in the Rhine (in the Rhine, as Anna Russell put it). This Rhine had a rocky bottom, rising strongly upwards on the right, with a promontory in the middle. The lump of gold that Alberich will steal and forge into a ring was positioned at the top of this promontory. To avoid being seen before the sunlight hit it, it was covered by a dark cloth. At the appropriate moment, a stagehand removed the cloth to expose the gold. In a masterpiece of staging, the three Rhinedaughters (not Rhinemaidens, Speight Jenkins frequently admonished us) were supported on trapezes high in the air. They could rotate about their hips, and with the aid of two stagehands per Rhinedaughter pulling on ropes “swim” up and down and left and right. It was a low-key but very impressive spectacle.
Act 1 Scene 2 is set in the forest, with a projection in back of the newly-constructed Valhalla. Douglas firs grew out of a low grassy ridge; a former giant of the forest lay on its side at the summit of the ridge. To the right was a rocky face with an entrance to a cave, from which Alberich’s slaves would later emerge carrying the gold to ransom Freia. It was this scene that was most evocative of the Pacific Northwest and the forest around Mason Lake.
Scene 3 in Nibelheim looked like the side of a cave, with horizontal ledges of black coal as the primary feature and many sections of golden-colored rock that looked like glowing briquets. Most of the action took place on a projecting ledge with an opening behind it. The singers were lit from the sides, so that all Alberich had to do to disappear was to jump backward into that opening and disappear from the light. No puffs of smoke or shrinking under a cape were required.
Scene 4 was the same as Scene 2. The gold blocks that were Freia’s ransom were strange. Rather than rough-hewn blocks in the same size and shape as rocks that you would use to make a rough wall, this gold had a more detailed structure. Some of the pieces looked like bundles of golden sticks.
Die Walküre Act 1 takes place in Hunding’s hut, where he lives with Sieglinde in a forced marriage. To the left was a dark, dense, nearly impenetrable forest with a small path through it. The stage was dominated by the hut on the right, a large quarter-dome-style structure made of rough-hewn wood with a tremendous tree trunk growing up through the middle of the roof. A table and a couple of chairs rudely constructed from wood were positioned near the base of the tree. Nothung, the sword in the tree, was very effectively hidden until it was needed.
Act 2 continued in Hunding’s hut, then moved to “a rocky pass” as Wagner specified. To the left was a sheer rock wall; in the center a flat area; to the right a forest that rose up quickly yet gradually enough to permit a trail with two switchbacks. For the Annunciation of Death scene, Brünnhilde appeared at the upper switchback, overlooking the central flat area.
Act 3 was not “at the summit of a rocky mountain” but rather high up a mountain of sheer rock. All of the action took place on a relatively narrow path about ten feet above the stage floor. This path curved around the left side of the mountain. Behind the path was the entrance to a cave, and the rock face soared upward out of sight above the cave.
Siegfried Act 1 repurposed the set of Das Rheingold Acts 2 and 4, with the addition of a rude wooden shelter just to the left and above the cave entrance. Act 2 was back at the set of the second part of Die Walküre Act 2. A bloody spot on the sheer rock face on the left marked the spot at which Hunding had killed Siegmund. There was now a hole in that rock face through which we could see the tail of Fafner the dragon. When the dragon came out of his cave to fight Siegfried, the head and neck came around from in back of the rock face. The first part of Act 3 was new scenery, a completely vertical rock face of red sandstone. It was not particularly smooth; there were enough features in it that I could imagine an expert climber finding enough footholds and handholds to climb it. The final part of Act 3 was back at Brünnhilde’s rock, the same set as Act 3 of Die Walküre.
Götterdämmerung opened with the Norns singing in front of the red standstone cliff of Siegfried Act 3 Scene 1; the second prologue with Siegfried and Brünnhilde took place on Brünnhilde’s rock. The Hall of the Gibichungs was mostly wooden walls made up of heavy wooden beams and posts for the main structure and thin vertical slats for the surfaces of the walls. The beams were carved with various symbols and representations of Teutonic and Nordic mythology. Speight confirmed someone’s observation that it was designed to look like a Norwegian stave church. Act 1 concluded back at Brünnhilde’s rock. Act 2 was back at the Hall of the Gibichungs. Scene 1 of Act 3 found us back at the spot where Hunding killed Siegmund, but now a small pool had been added for the Rhinedaughters to play in. Hagen killed Siegfried at the same spot that Siegmund had been killed. Scene 2 was back at the Hall of the Gibichungs. For the finale, a lot went on. A small circular floating platform bearing all of the principal characters sort of drifted around and above the stage. After more sleight-of-hand with scrims and projections, we ended up almost where we started, with the forest scene of Das Rheingold Scene 2.
Our cast:
Woglinde: Jennifer Zetlan
Wellgunde: Cecelia Hall
Flosshilde: Renee Tatum
Alberich: Richard Paul Fink
Fricka: Stephanie Blythe
Wotan: Greer Grimsley
Freia: Wendy Bryn Harmer
Fasolt: Andrea Silvestrelli
Fafner: Daniel Sumegi
Froh: Ric Furman
Donner: Markus Brück
Loge: Mark Schowalter
Mime: Dennis Petersen
Erda: Lucille Beer
Siegmund: Stuart Skelton
Sieglinde: Margaret Jane Wray
Hunding: Andrea Silvestrelli
Brünnhilde: Alwyn Mellor
Gerhilde: Wendy Bryn Harmer
Helmwige: Jessica Klein
Waltraute (Die Walküre): Suzanne Hendrix
Schwertleite: Luretta Bybee
Ortlinde: Tamara Mancini
Siegrune: Sarah Heitzel
Grimgerde: Renee Tatum
Rossweisse: Cecelia Hall
Siegfried: Stefan Vinke
Forest Bird: Jennifer Zetlan
First Norn: Luretta Bybee
Second Norn: Stephanie Blythe
Third Norn: Margaret Jane Wray
Gunther: Markus Brück
Hagen: Daniel Sumegi
Gutrune: Wendy Bryn Harmer
Waltraute (Götterdämmerung): Stephanie Blythe
Conductor: Asher Fisch
Director: Stephen Wadsworth
It was a wonderful experience all the way around. I envy my friends who attended two or even all three cycles. The most outstanding singers were Stefan Vinke as Siegfried and Stephanie Blythe in her various roles. I finally figured out a way to communicate what it was like to see Rita Hunter, who had blown me away as Brünnhilde in my first Ring cycle in 1980: take Stephanie Blythe, add a hundred pounds, raise her voice into soprano territory, and you’d have the Rita Hunter that I remember. Stefan Vinke had everything that you could want in a Siegfried. I’m also a big Andrea Silvestrelli fan, and he did not disappoint. Ric Furman made a more authoritative Froh than I usually see. Alywn Mellor sang well, but she had an annoying and distracting back-and-forth head motion. The orchestra under Ascher Fisch was wonderful, aside from more bloopers from the horns than I would expect from an orchestra of this level. A superb experience, but short of an alpha.
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