Brooklyn Academy of Music
Handel’s Theodora
Brooklyn Academy of Music
May 7, 2000
The weather was hot, but unfortunately the passions were not on May 7 at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Les Arts Florissants and a group of very fine soloists, led by the elegant William Christie, made a performance of Handel’s dramatic oratorio Theodora into an interesting and instructive, but rather long Sunday afternoon.
Theodora was one of Handel’s failures, and in the composer’s own day, the piece was praised mainly by connoisseurs. This is not true in our day, of course, where we have Peter Sellars to liven things up. In 1996, Mr. Sellars staged Theodora at Glyndebourne with Dawn Upshaw in the title role. Having decided that Theodora was “utopian meta-theatre of the heart and mind,” Sellars moved the story of the martyrdom of a noblewoman of Antioch during the reign of Emperor Diocletian (AD 304) to the present day. Is anyone surprised? In subsequent revivals, Sellars added men in suits and a singer with “an unmistakable Nixon hairline” (according to critic Rodney Milnes), which was completely appropriate since the Prefect of Antioch had become the President of Antioch in the Sellars production. But whatever Mr. Sellars did inspired Mr. Milnes to call Theodora “a simply astonishing work,” and the performance “a life-changing evening.” That wasn’t quite the effect that Theodora had at BAM.
Not that I find much fault with the more traditional performance presented by William Christie and his ensemble. It is difficult to fault anyone who plays with the commitment and joy of the orchestra and chorus of Les Arts Florissants or anyone who conducts with Mr. Christie’s passion. One need only listen to the splendid recording of Handel’s Alcina (recently released by Erato and justly praised in the June 2000 issue of Classical Singer) to hear how beautifully this ensemble makes music with world-class soloists. Even though Sunday’s soloists sang well, they all had difficulties that added to the length of the afternoon.
Although Nathan Berg had one of the smaller parts (in this case, as Valens, the Prefect of Antioch), he received the loudest applause. This was not only because Mr. Berg has a very pleasant voice and used it well, but also because he was the only soloist who came close to giving an emotionally interesting performance. He was believable in his pagan beliefs, occasionally almost too much so. For that alone, he deserved a round of applause.
Unfortunately, Richard Croft (Septimius) was the opposite of Berg. He was the embodiment of a complaint I’ve often heard about young American singers: His singing was very mechanical. When he first came on stage, he looked around carefully to make sure he was standing in exactly the right place. And he sang the same way — very carefully. He paid more attention to hitting the notes properly than to expressing the emotion in the music. At the curtain calls, he smiled in relief, and he must have been surprised that the response to his obvious effort was rather tepid.
Sophie Daneman (Theodora) gave a much more assured performance than Mr. Croft, but she also lacked real passion. Of course, one could argue that she was playing a virginal creature, more afraid of life in a brothel than death. But that was precisely the problem. Instead of stressing her commitment to and passion for her beliefs, Miss Daneman stressed only Theodora’s purity and chastity, both of which can get a bit boring after a few hours.
I enjoyed Juliette Galstian’s performance also, although her English was occasionally unidiomatic. Ms. Galstian (Irene) also sang well, but did not individuate herself enough or give the audience the feeling that her character was truly alive with real womanly emotion. But I would listen to Ms. Galstian again with pleasure.
Countertenor Daniel Taylor (Didymus) was the most polished and assured performer on stage, to the point of sometimes appearing almost smug. Mr. Taylor gave an excellent performance — with the kind of voice he has. Towards the end of the afternoon, I was able to join with him as he created a living character, although I wouldn’t go so far as to say this character was also a living human being. On the one hand, the timbre of his countertenor voice seemed to fit the music of Didymus very well, and ideally I would prefer to see a man sing the role. On the other hand, a full mezzo-soprano voice can bring so much more color to the music, that I found myself deciding in favor of Maureen Forrester on the recording conducted by Johannes Somary (Vanguard Classics OVC 407 4/5).
The performance of Theodora on May 7 at BAM was well played and well sung, but because of the lack of passion in the soloists, the afternoon was more of a history lesson than a completely satisfying musical experience. –Regina Domeraski
Pacific Opera Recital
Hebrew Tabernacle, New York
June 18, 2000
Every now and then a musical event forces me to blow off the dust and cobwebs from my metaphorical ears and reconsider the listening experience. This Sunday afternoon recital by some of the artists of Pacific Opera was just such an ear opener. More than that, it was a pleasure opener, reminding me why I like to listen to classical singers in the first place. I had no such expectations when I trekked way uptown to Washington Heights for this recital, with piano, by a group of emerging singers.
The program was a random assortment of opera’s most popular arias and duets. Excepting a few minor glitches, the singers all had beautiful voices and a number of them were accomplished artists as well. The venue, The Hebrew Tabernacle, was of such acoustic perfection for singing voices that it made the hearing of so many lovely pieces in succession much like the guilty pleasure of devouring a box of luscious chocolates one by one. And that’s never been a bad way to pass a Sunday afternoon.
This hall is a large, square room with plush on the walls and a shallow dome that fills most of the ceiling. The singing voices bloom in this space with a glow unique in my experience. Although the distance from midtown could be seen as a deterrent to more frequent use of this hall for auditions and recitals, I know of no other Manhattan venue so friendly to the singing voice. Every voice had an intimate presence, made an impact akin to being inside a set of headphones with the singer. Although I was in the back of the hall, each voice was heard as close up and enveloping, cushioned and flattered — yet not airbrushed; when flaws existed, it was easy to hear them.
Happily, there were few flaws to be heard, and none at all from the first singer, Lisa Bryce, who sang “Porgi, Amor” from Le Nozze di Figaro with a steady, gently unfolding musical line and an elegant sense of repose. This is normally found only in very seasoned and accomplished artists and it is extremely rare in a singer as young as Miss Bryce, whose gleaming soprano — rich without being heavy, clear without being thin — is the most extravagantly beautiful voice I have heard in quite a while. I don’t wish to lay an unduly heavy responsibility on so young a singer, but I have high hopes for Lisa Bryce and will follow her progress with great interest.
Another major discovery of the afternoon was mezzo Lara Stevens whose richly colored, lustrous tone and dramatic fire — to say nothing of a flaming upward extension that carried her ornamentation to E flat in alt — was the great crowd-pleaser of the day. She brought down the house with a spirited “Una voce poco fa.” In a music world already populated by fine mezzos, here is another with the voice, musicianship, unusual range, physical beauty and stage savvy to stand out even in fast company.
Soprano Lynn Spurgat, quite a finished young artist, was particularly endearing both for her diminutive, appealing physical presence and for her creamy, soothing voice. She was first heard in duet ( “Prendero” from Così fan tutte) with Miss Stevens, then solo in “Andro sola e lontana” from La Wally, and again in the famous duet from Lakmé. This last, with Jenna Mathioudakis, was notable for the exquisite, even sisterly vocal blending the two women achieved. Mathioudakis also sang the “Jewel Song” from Faust with all of the necessary rapture and none of the cutesy simpering this music seems to invite. She, too, is a finished artist with her own beautifully developed viewpoint on the music, needing only a cleaner trill to approach real distinction.
Elisabeth Russo, with a dark and voluminous mezzo, gave a sensuous account of Carmen’s Habanera, but was undermined in the Barcarole from Contes d’Hoffmann by her partner, Denise Galon whose upper register — curiously disconnected from the rest of her substantial voice — manifested problematic intonation.
Other singers gave more standard renditions of popular arias in which one was treated to several instances of that generic brand of soubrette pertness that is not always backed up by a technical finesse or interpretive distinction to justify the displayed self-confidence. A polished and secure soprano, Caron Harris, offered a dignified and soulful “Vissi d’Arte” that was undermined by grotesque facial grimacing. Pianist Eric Trudel was a tremendous asset, playing exemplary accompaniments and filling in for the missing orchestra with bold colors and a subtle mastery of the various styles.
For this listener, the “moral” of this concert was this: Never miss an opportunity to hear singing; pleasant surprises, even stunning discoveries, await the curious, even in the most modest auspices. And for singers, this: Never pass up a chance to be heard. Even if you have to put on a show in your own garage, get out there and sing! —Freeman Günter.
Matthias Goerne Recital
Alice Tully Hall, New York
May 24, 2000
For the occasion of his fourth major appearance on a New York City concert stage, German Baritone Matthias Goerne juxtaposed various “Wanderer” songs by Franz Schubert with selections from Hanns Eisler’s Hollywood Liederbuch, a Brechtian depiction of the political/artistic exile of World War II. Mr. Goerne’s programming choice was an inspired one, both logical and illuminating to both composers’ work. The arc over the entire performance can perhaps best be viewed as a type of compare and contrast exercise: Tradition vs. Iconoclasm.
The packed audience at Alice Tully Hall warmly greeted Mr. Goerne, who appeared to blush with shyness at this reception. His dyed-in-the-Fischer-Dieskau-wool baritone seemed immediately at odds with his elfin, mannerism-dominated physicality. One was reminded of an intensely introspective Anthony Hopkins performance, or perhaps a Lieder-singing Joe Cocker. With his cagey, furtive glances, spastic knee dips, nose-tugging and piano-gripping, Goerne was definitely not of the stereotypical “stand and sing” school. Sometimes intriguing, other times distracting in their constancy, these mannerisms ultimately faded into a backdrop for Goerne’s intelligent, moving, highly individual performance. Contrasted with the art and tradition of the Lieder singer timbre was Goerne’s personal modernity, dominated by a quirky sense of humor; ironic and detached. Could this be a major force in taking the art of the Lieder recital and making it relevant for the 21st Century?
Many are familiar with the image of the homeless poet of Schubert’s “Wanderer” songs; not as familiar is Viennese composer Hanns Eisler with his Hollywood Liederbuch. Eisler was one of the many artists exiled from World War II Europe, who found a temporary home in Los Angeles in the 1940’s. Many of the songs recall the pithiness and film-noir-humor of Billy Wilder’s (another Vienna-to- L.A. transplant) homage to show biz, Sunset Boulevard. So many times, it is the outsider’s perspective that gives voice to the enduring image of Los Angeles as paradise with a price. Physical beauty and comfort is in stark comparison with the vacuousness, greed, and shattered dreams that so often accompany this romantic, even mythical Los Angeles. Was the same true for Franz Schubert, a man who never found a place that he could consider home after his early childhood? Could the symbols of the Romantic Era be encapsulated best by those who were not amongst the elite? This could be echoed in Goerne’s performance. His voice is beautiful, although far from technically perfect. He too often lacked differentiation in dynamics, and he had difficulty in managing his higher register, particularly in songs like Eisler’s “Hotelzimmer 1942,” where his voice developed an unattractive bleat. Other times, Goerne infused warmth and delicate shadings into more range-appropriate songs such as Eisler’s amusing “Die Maske die Bösen,” delighting the audience with a gleeful dance and his impish manner. The Bertolt Brecht poem “Frühling,” whose arpeggiated introduction is a nod to Schubert’s “Frühlingstraum,” was breathtaking in its simplicity and as an insight to Mr. Goerne’s choice of material. He seemed completely in command of the text as well as his technique.
Seemingly unobtrusive and content to remain in the role as “accompanist,” pianist Eric Schneider turned out to be the biggest surprise of the evening. Mr. Schneider was the pianistic collaborator on Goerne’s Grammy-nominated recording of The Hollywood Liederbuch, so one could have expected his specialty to be the sparse, bone-dry accompaniment of Eisler’s songs. Without fanfare, Mr. Schneider shifted gears and inhabited the Schubert selections entirely; one wonders if there has been a “Frühlingglaube” so meltingly rendered. His approach was textbook perfect: a supportive but separate artist, with an orchestral-like palette of colors and dynamics.
Goerne’s many encores illustrated the growing appreciation of the young baritone’s particular artistry. He is also in demand on the operatic stage, having recently debuted as Papageno at the Metropolitan Opera. His love for the repertoire is obvious; his originality and modern approach is inspiring. If a sold-out audience of musically sophisticated New Yorkers clamoring to hear artists such as Goerne is any indication, we can expect that the beloved art will continue to flourish and mature, despite dire warnings to the contrary. This is good news not only for concert goers, but classical singers as well. –Elisabeth Lang
Seattle Experimental Opera
Asplund’s Liquid Girls
Nippon Kan Theater, Seattle
June 30, 2000
SEXO!” What a fabulous, if somewhat misleading, acronym for the Seattle Experimental Opera, which opened its presentation of Liquid Girls (music by Christian Asplund, text by Lara Candland, choreography by Juliet Waller) on June 30th, at the Nippon Kan Theater.
First, I must give extremely high points to all of the performers. They coped with and conquered the technical difficulties of the score with an aplomb that I found amazing. Two fine sopranos, Cynthia Dario and Alison Hopkins, sang beautifully while sometimes being asked during the score to literally gargle while singing in their upper registers. Mezzo-soprano Sue Niemoyer didn’t have to do that, but along with her singing duties she played the piano for some of the complex parts of the score. Ms. Niemoyer demonstrated a warm, resonant voice of considerable size and beauty.
Actress Jessica Pregnolato played Eva Eve, whose “letters” make up the bulk of the often repeated – but somehow not redundant – texts; young Eva Asplund played a mute, younger projection of the heroine. Dressed alike, they seemed to be in some sort of Catholic school- girl garb, one of the many interesting touches by costume and scenery designer Pasha Plum Grant.
A fine and very energetic quartet of dancers (Aiko Kinoshita, Ku’ulei Miura, Tami Totzke, Janine Tiede) executed the complex choreography with panache.
All of the above performers maintained a really first rate intensity toward the material and a wonderful sense of dedication. Toward the end of the piece, sopranos Dario and Hopkins were given something like a standard duet to sing, and they sang it with great relish and lovely tone.
Now to the music. Composer Asplund seems to have been influenced by almost everything from Phillip Glass to Seattle grunge. And I will freely admit that I can be no fair judge of this variety of music with which I have little experience and almost no empathy. I heard kernels of musical ideas that might have been developed more interestingly, but these were surrounded by a great deal of purposeful musical distortion.
One of the more interesting aspects of the sonic ambience of the piece was the use of water as a “musical instrument” — poured, spit, splatted, gargled. All of this did lead to one unfortunate moment which I hope Mr. Asplund reconsiders for future performances. In an “a capella” section of the score, while Eva Eve is reading one of her letters, both sopranos were gently trickling water from pitchers into water-filled bowls. I don’t think that I have to go into gruesome detail as to what this sounded like, and the many titters around the auditorium during this section told me that it wasn’t just my lurid imagination at work. So, while I was hardly enchanted with the piece itself, I will give full credit to all the performers and say that I would like to see them all in more “standard” repertoire at some time in the future. —Paul Gudas
The Washington Concert Opera
Bizet’s Les pêcheurs de perles
Kennedy Center, Washington DC
May 21, 2000
This well-sung performance was very much a concert presentation, with full orchestra on the stage, chorus behind the orchestra, and four soloists in evening dress using scores and music stands while standing at either side of the conductor. The only staging elements were surtitles, entrances, exits, and singers facing each other from time to time.
The Pearl Fishers is an opera with gorgeous music and a weak libretto, and the lack of costumes, sets, and staging tended to emphasize the creaky dramaturgy. However, the excellent singing made the evening worthwhile. Tenor Gregory Turay (most recently heard in the Lyric Opera of Chicago’s radio broadcast of A View from the Bridge) sang with a lovely, easy tone. His performance of the first act aria “Je crois entendre encore” had exciting and beautiful forte high notes in one phrase and gorgeous floated piano high notes in the next. Even with music stand and score, he was committed to the drama every moment he was on stage, whether singing or reacting to the other singers or the chorus.
Jennifer Welch sang beautifully. She was as impressive in the bird-song-like coloratura of her first act aria as she was in the emotionally intense music of the second and third acts. Her tone was clear and bell-like, her diction was precise and she matched Turay in emotional commitment. Baritone Ned Barth was an effective Zurga. The well-known tenor-baritone duet, “Au fond du temple saint” was one of the evening’s highlights, and brought down the house. Bass-baritone Patrick Carfizzi contributed a beautiful tone to a small role.
The orchestra and chorus made a lovely sound. The chorus was particularly impressive in the mostly a capella section in the second act, accompanied only by exotic percussion and the occasion flute obligato, with a rich, lovely tone and perfect intonation. The orchestra displayed a warm tone and excellent ensemble. Conductor and company General Director Stephen Crout should be proud of his achievement. —Margaret Harrison
