OPERA
Opera Orchestra of New York
A Realization of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte at the Temple of Dendur, Sackler Wing,Metropolitan Museum of Art
Sunday, October 10, 1999
Although Classical Singer will always wish to place our emphasis on the singing rather than the scenery, there is no other way to begin a review of the Opera Orchestra of New York’s performance of Mozart’s Zauberflöte as semi-staged at the Sackler Wing of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in and around the Temple of Dendur. The visual and spiritual rightness of having an authentic Ancient Egyptian temple to support the Egyptian/Masonic aspects of the libretto were uniquely offset by the total acoustic inappropriateness of this giant, glass-enclosed art gallery as a venue for musical performance. Unless a singer was directly facing a listener–which happened relatively seldom in this three-quarter in-the-round situation–the sound was maddeningly indirect. There were often parts of the stone temple between singer and auditor. Knowing the difficulty the various musical forces must have had in merely hearing each other with the interference of echoes and time-delays, it is uniformly to the cast’s credit that they appeared completely secure and undisturbed by the uniquely problematic acoustics
The performance, held together by a charming narration delivered by WQXR radio journalist Nimet Habachy, was of so severely cut an edition that it seemed that the Egyptian gods were holding a giant remote control they constantly used to fast-forward through the opera, eliminating entire episodes and characters who never appeared. The chorus was absent because there was simply no place to put them.
All of the singers displayed a high degree of commitment to this unusual staging, but Kamel Butros embraced it completely, becoming the most alert and charming Papageno of my experience. His commitment was total, the kind that draws an audience completely into the story. He listened attentively when others sang, reacting with complete naturalness to every situation. His honey-sweet lyric baritone was used with a fine, responsive musicianship and, when he, himself, played Papageno’s magical bells on a synthesizer keyboard, he all but stole the show with a dazzling improvisational tour-de-force. Aline Kutan’s Queen of the Night was a standout; her bright, focused soprano and confident, accurate top would be an asset in this demented, demanding role in any house. Olga Makarina’s pure, appealing soprano and limpid phrasing in “Ach, ich fuls” made for a warmly sympathetic Pamina. The role of Papagena was almost, but not quite eliminated. What was left of the part, however, was commandingly sung, and when Papagena finally appeared for her final duet, Valerie Saalbach truly brought down the house with her powerful projection.
Richard Clement’s Tamino was stylishly sung even though his quality registered, at least in the museum’s dim acoustic, as a more beefy, verismo-appropriate sound than the more pointed, focused tone considered ideal in this part. He never failed to phrase the music with ardent passion and sensitive understanding. The musicianship and good looks of Philip Cokorinos, who got to make his most effective entrance from the depths of the temple, provided all the intimidating mystery and comforting authority one could wish for as Sarastro. The reviewer is at a distinct disadvantage to assess if the role lies slightly low for his voice or whether it was the blurry acoustic which prevented him from being able to totally command and stun in the important lower reaches of Sarastro’s music. The three spirits, trebles David Nierenberg, Barthold Clagett, and Carl Kranz, were appealing stage figures who sang clearly and musically. Although deprived of the overture and much other important music cut from the score, Maestro Queler gauged the tempi with the loving care of a true storyteller, manifesting a great understanding of the opera’s unique magic. The Pamina/Papageno duet of the first act soared with a bouyant rhythmic pulse that characterized the conducting in general. Using very skillfully reduced and adapted orchestral forces, she drew lovely playing from her Opera Orchestra all evening, her authority firmly holding the performance together as if completely undeterred by the traps and snares of the unconventional venue. –Freeman Günter
Opera Orchestra of New York
Bellini: I Capuleti e i Montecchi
Avery Fischer Hall
October 25, 1999
Vessalina Kasarova’s local assumption of the role of Romeo was the principal reason for this event, and after her performance of Rosini’s Tancredi with OONY in December, 1997–still her only previous New York City exposure–expectations were high. Although some felt that the Bulgarian mezzo soprano was below her best form in terms of preparation, involvement and vocal health, there could be no doubt that one was in the presence of a uniquely gifted singer. Her richly burnished vocal sound is allied to an inherent musicality of a rare, high order. Her messa di voce is completely flexible and supple. Even when marking at a rehearsal, she totally inhabits the musical line. It constantly flows through her entire being to be shaped, pulled, pushed and caressed in a manner so natural and confident as to be almost casual, taken for granted. Like Callas, she becomes the music the moment she opens her mouth to sing, and even before. And also like Callas, she articulates, colors and places the words within a matchless, always moving and never ending legato line. If some top notes were cut short and frequent glottal attacks startled, or if several rather desperate glances at the conductor betrayed her less than total application to rehearsals, hers was, nonetheless, a fascinating portrayal from which it was impossible to avert one’s ears or eyes. In the tomb scene, her authority and authenticity were unmistakable and her dying cry pierced to the heart.
As Giulietta, debutante soprano Annick Massis pleased the audience in general a good deal more than she pleased me. Her timbre, so fresh and appealing upon first hearing, became glassy and blaring over the course of the evening. Lacking a true piano, her singing tends to remain always at the same dynamic level and it manifests an unvarying tonal color and intensity, which eventually becomes wearying. In her favor, her tone, louder than the usual lyric soprano, is clearly and boldly projected and her top notes, though not especially lovely, are clear, true and secure. She struck this listener as the kind of strong, dependable singer all intendants need for their rosters, but not one whose nuances lingers in the imagination the day after a performance.
As Tebaldo, tenor Gregory Kunde gave object lessons in the real bel canto style and the romantic sensibility. Quite simply, he sang as if he cared deeply and believed every word. His dynamic palate is richly varied and his technique enables him to sing this difficult music as if to the manor born; his embellishments were positively thrilling. Even if his isn’t the world’s most luscious voice, his passion and commitment, and the sweetness of his style, justly earned him two of the evening’s boldest ovations.
Baritone Patrick Carfizzi’s exceptionally beautiful voice provided all of the warm, firm tone one could wish for as Lorenzo. Further experience will teach him how to modulate and vary it, while adding those accents of tenderness and sympathy that would make his impersonation of the good Friar completely satisfying.
Philip Cokorinos, Capellio, seemed eager to stun the audience with the size and power of his thundering bass-baritone. His blustery style was far more suitable for late Verdi than music of the Primo Ottocento. Truly, his voice is so innately impressive that he can take it for granted now and concentrate his energies toward molding the music in more subtle and expressive ways.
It astonishes me that Maestro Eve Queler continues to be so underrated as a conductor when she regularly gives exemplary bel canto performances like this one. She sets the big tunes in motion with springing tempi that are both right in the context of the entire score and gratefully sympathetic to the singers, enabling them to launch and sustain their vocal lines with maximum effectiveness. The generous sound of her orchestra and the over-all momentum of the performance are sure demonstrations that Queler is a far more complete musician than merely the accompanist her detractors so tiresomely declare her to be. Listening as Maestro Queler loves these performances into existence is one of the consistent glories of New York musical life.
–Freeman Günter
