Verdi: Il Trovatore
Metropolitan Opera,
New York City, December 7, 2000
After the Prima of the Met’s new production of Il Trovatore, the stage director Graham Vick and the lighting designer Matthew Richardson received the vociferous boos that have become a modern day tradition for far-out concept productions that inevitably fail to please. These boos were not surprising because the production was an uncomfortable mix of the handsome and effective and the downright silly. The flats with cloud motifs and side lighting that cast dramatic shadows were atmospheric and appropriate. The costumes (like the sets, by Paul Brown), set in the mid-nineteenth century, were exceedingly handsome — uniforms and period-perfect facial hair and hairstyles for the men, enormous hoop skirts for the women. Like ancestors in a Civil War daguerreotype, the men seemed human and vulnerable, making the drama uncommonly poignant. In their way-outsized gowns, the court ladies resembled fancy desserts made of meringue. A plethora of painfully obvious and corny symbolic effects — mostly involving variations of the moon theme and a giant cross that opened as a drawbridge/ironing board — had proved risible to the audience. At the opera’s peak dramatic moment, Manrico’s rescue of Leonora from the Count de Luna’s abduction attempt, this contraption stopped the show with unanimous, derisive laughter, and poor Neil Shicoff was so thrown by it that he looked as if he wanted to flee. With extensive redirection next season to remove the ill-conceived and comical aspects, this production could actually be quite handsome and effective.
The musical side of the performance also was bound to be controversial. Neil Shicoff (Manrico) was singing through a serious indisposition, and many would find Maestro Carlo Rizzi’s tempi to be too fast. Aside from some blurry wind and brass attacks, however, I loved Rizzi’s conducting. He dared to sweep away tired “tradition” and attempted to express the emotional content. In the way that Toscanini’s brisk tempi emphasized through-lines and structural architecture, and von Karajan’s controlling embrace could lift and sustain the singers with his musical concept, Maestro Rizzi held the drama with all its sorrows and poetry in the palm of his hand. He coaxed telling bel canto phrasing from his singers. My heart leapt to my throat at the thrilling, fast tempo Dimitri Kavrakos suddenly sprang into to launch Ferrando’s Act One narrative. But at no time did he, or any of the other singers, seem hard-pressed by the tempi. All of them rose to the occasion and delivered the score’s most intricate markings crisply and cleanly in tight ensemble with the orchestra. In the days after hearing this performance I find that Rizzi’s clear and forward-moving conception of the score has reawakened my love for this opera; I have been hungry to hear it again and again.
Others have honked out Manrico’s music louder than Shicoff, but I’ve never heard anyone sing it more cleanly, giving meaning and accuracy to all of the trills and subtle markings that tenors usually ignore or gloss over. Shicoff’s Manrico was poetry itself, a living, suffering man, and he deeply moved me where others have only astonished. For once, the opera really was about the Troubadour and I thought he was magnificent. Roberto Frontali was costumed to look like Manrico’s brother, and he, too, was poetic rather than bombastic as Count de Luna. His phrasing of “Il balen” was surpassingly graceful and elegant, and this counts for a lot with me.
Dolora Zajick’s Azucena —looking like Tyne Daly in her gray wig and shapeless black Italian widow dress — was stupendous. The voice is huge, the rhythmic sense taught, and the drama right on the line. She delivered in a big way.
Although Marina Mescheriakova threw herself into the performance with obvious commitment and looked lovely in the gown, her Leonora was a major disappointment. If you were looking for pretty top tones, she had quite a few. If, on the other hand, it was a cohesive musical line, shapely phrasing, or true intonation and a telling lower register you were after, you’d have waited in vain all evening. She relied so much upon piano singing at the top that there was no contrast and very little pathos or impact. When the Inez — Jane Shaulis, manifesting beautiful tone and an impressive presence — makes a bigger, more colorful vocal impact than the Leonora, you have a problem. Although Mescheriakova sang the rarely performed cabaletta to the Miserere scene, she didn’t make anything thrilling of it and for her trouble was very lightly rewarded with a smattering of applause.
This is generally true of the entire performance; the audience hated the production and was not even especially kind to the valiant efforts of the ill-but-game Shicoff and the very artistic Frontali. Zajick, alone, was heaped with approbation. But by judiciously closing my eyes when the visuals got stupid, ignoring what I could of Leonora’s vagueness, and concentrating on Shicoff’s elegant musicality and Maestro Rizzi’s thrilling shaping of the score, I had myself a most musically and emotionally satisfying time at Il Trovatore.
—Freeman Günter
Verdi: Il Trovatore
Washington Opera
Kennedy Center Opera House, Washington, DC, November 10, 2000
Verdi’s music was well-served in the Washington Opera’s performance of Il Trovatore. Italian tenor Fabio Armiliato was fabulous as Manrico. He is a traditional (and, these days, rare) Italian spinto tenor; his sound is very attractive, even throughout the range and thrilling at the top. Mr. Armiliato is also a wonderful example of a singer who acts with his voice. It was exciting to hear the passions of Manrico — joy, sorrow, anger, romantic passion — in the sound of the voice. His Italian had an easy and idiomatic naturalness that isn’t found in a non-native Italian speaker.
Also exciting was mezzo-soprano Barbara Dever’s performance as Azucena. Her voice is huge and capable of many colors and dynamics. The big arias like “Stride la vampa” were exciting, but even more impressive was her pianissimo singing in the last-act prison duet with Manrico. At the final curtain call, her applause was even louder than the enthusiastic applause for the tenor.
Soprano Carol Vaness did a credible job as Leonora. Her sound was most attractive in its middle and lower ranges and her chest voice was particularly effective. However, her top notes were inconsistent. Many times, her forte high notes had a too-wide, almost wobbly vibrato, and some soft high notes didn’t work well at all. But at other times, soft, high singing was lovely, and her best sound on top was in the several florid passages in the role. As always, Ms. Vaness’s acting was committed and convincing.
Baritone Justino Diaz’s singing was the weakest of the principal quartet. While his low and middle notes at moderate dynamic were fine, the high notes and loud singing often had wild vibrato, and an a capella solo section ended off-pitch, made obvious when the orchestra re-entered on what should have been the same note. But the performance was otherwise convincing, and he made the audience believe his character. The audience’s warm applause showed that they enjoyed his performance.
The small roles were all well sung by mezzo soprano Rosalind Manier (Ines), tenor Michael Bicoy (Ruiz), baritone Tianxu Zhou (Old Gypsy), and tenor Daniel Holmes (Messenger). Only the role of Ferrando is large enough to make an impression, however, and bass Stefan Szfafarowsky made a wonderful impression, indeed, with his warm, rich voice and imposing stage presence.
Conductor Placido Domingo kept the tempos moving nicely, and led the Anvil Chorus in a graceful, almost dance-like manner, much faster than it’s usually heard. Some very nice orchestral phrasing was also heard in the accompaniment to arias. The chorus sounded terrific, and especially thrilling in the a capella sections of the Anvil Chorus.
The production was costumed traditionally by Martin Pakledinaz. The sets by Benoit Dugardyn were less traditional, though effective, consisting of a series of wooden-looking slatted panels that moved up and down and across the stage to create the various scenes. Less effective were the dozens of swords sticking up out of holes in the floor of the stage. Sometimes they were ignored by the singers, other times they were picked up and used, then stuck back into their holes. Presumably the swords were present as symbols of the violence and conflict that permeate the opera, but this viewer found them mostly distracting, wondering what was going to be done with them next. The stage direction by Stephen Lawless was adequate. Characters moved around without bumping into each other, singers were able to sing without impediment, and characters seemed to be in logical places, but other than seeing what would be done next with the swords, there was nothing of particular interest in the staging.
—Margaret Harrison
Massenet: Don Quichotte
Washington Opera,
Kennedy Center Opera House, Washington, DC, November 20, 2000
Much talent and care went into this production of Jules Massenet’s Don Quichotte; it’s too bad that the opera itself hardly seems to be worth the trouble.
French baritone Alain Vernhes as Sancho Panza displayed the best singing and acting of the evening. His voice gleamed and his presence made one watch him no matter who else was on stage. Mezzo soprano Denyce Graves as Dulcinée looked gorgeous and sang mostly very well. She was at her best when employing her fullest, lushest tone, and she did this for most of the opera. However, in her first aria, staged atop a platform, she often used an under-supported, straight and sometimes under-pitched tone. It appeared she was attempting some dream-like vocal effects, but they were not technically well realized. Bass Ruggero Raimondi in the title role sounded less than his vocal best. The tone was not as powerful in volume as the other singers, and on certain vowels his pitch was noticeably on the low side of the note — not flat exactly, but not in the center of the tone, either. However, his performance otherwise was completely committed, and overall was very enjoyable.
The lavish production by Piero Faggioni, who is credited with scenery, costumes, and lighting, has reportedly been around the world. Costumes were colorful and creative touches abounded. Don Quichotte rode on an adorable wooden horse, pushed by supers. In the famous windmill-attack episode, toy-sized spinning windmills toward the front of the stage were lit from the front to create huge windmill-shadows on the backdrop.
The opera itself seemed not worth the trouble. The music is pretty and pleasant but forgettable. The drama is nonexistent. This version has Dulcinée as a high-class courtesan with lovely clothes and jewels and many admirers (not unlike Violetta in Verdi’s La Traviata). She loves her lifestyle, but feels some sympathy for the crazy old fellow who seems to dote on her, so she asks him to recover her stolen necklace from bandits, and off he goes on his chivalric mission. But it’s difficult to care about the characters, because Don Quichotte seems merely a doddering old fellow out of touch with reality, and Dulcinée is merely one of many operatic courtesans. For an American audience-member, the Broadway musical Man of La Mancha far more effectively conveys the flavor of the Cervantes classic than do Massenet and his librettist Henri Cain.
—Margaret Harrison
Wagner: Parsifal
Washington Opera,
Kennedy Center Opera House, Washington, DC, November 3, 2000
The Washington Opera gave its audiences outstanding music-making with its presentation of Parsifal. Finnish bass Matti Salminen as Gurnemanz enthralled the audience with his beautiful tone and outstanding singing in a long and taxing role. Company director Placido Domingo sang Parsifal gloriously. His always-beautiful tone made it sound easy to sing over the 96-member orchestra. Maestro Domingo is nearing age 60, but his voice sounded as young as his character.
Soprano Karen Huffstodt sang Kundry. Her singing was excellent. Though the role has much vocal drama which many rely upon to put it across, she sang through every note. Her acting was demented, perfectly portraying the character. Sergei Leiferkus sang Klingsor, a role that seems perfectly matched to his voice and his person. His singing was poised and had exactly the right quality for this evil sorcerer. Alan Held also sounded terrific in this excellent company, and as always, acted convincingly.
Conductor, Heinz Fricke did a marvelous job with the expanded Kennedy Center Opera House Orchestra (several rows of orchestra seats were removed to expand the size of the orchestra pit). But, heard from the 2nd Tier, the orchestra tone was rich and resonant without drowning out the singers. This was truly exemplary Wagnerian orchestral playing. Of particularly note was the outstanding French horn section, so prominent in this opera. Maestro Fricke moved the tempi along briskly, bringing the opera in at less than 5 hours, yet nothing felt rushed. Chorus Master Steven Gathman and The Washington Opera Chorus also deserve recognition for their incredibly effective singing of some of the most thrilling operatic choruses ever written.
—Margaret Harrison
