The Merry Widow

  It’s rather fitting that the Lyric Opera of Chicago staged its production of The Merry Widow right after Alban Berg’s Wozzeck; the latter in many ways criticizing the overly decorated façade of the former. The 1905 operetta by composer Fran Lehar and librettists Viktor Leon and Leo Stein focuses on the love lives of the rich and decadent aristocracy in the fictional eastern European country of Pontevedro. Pontevedrian ambassador to France, Baron Zeta, is beside himself with worry over the fact that his home country is near bankruptcy and if its wealthiest citizen, widowed millionaires Hanna Glawari, marries a man outside the country she will then leave and take her fortune with her. This is the ostensible plot line of Lehar’s 90 year old operetta, The Merry Widow. The true conflict is between Hanna and her old flame, the playboy aristocrat and lover of dancing girls, Count Danilo Danilovitch. They’re kept apart by their mutual reluctance to open up as well as the secondary love story of Valencienne, who is married to Baron Zeta, and French attaché to the embassy, Count Camille de Rosillon. Like any comic operetta, there is dancing, singing, hijinks, and a great deal of unrealistic plot lines. Without giving too much away, it is no spoiler to say that all’s well that ends well.

  The Lyric Opera of Chicago’s production did not disappoint when it came to sets, costumes, colorful dancing, and obligatory star power. Like the time that is represented on stage, the Lyric’s Merry Widow was opulent in its aesthetic, but lacking in depth, especially when it came to what should be the jewel in this gilded egg; the music. On paper this should be a template for what a top tiered operetta production should be, but despite the beautiful visuals and wonderful dancing, I was left unsatisfied. Unfortunately I was not surprised by the reasoning for this empty feeling. The strength and talent of the last two productions have been counterbalanced by the weakness in the season’s opening production of The Marriage of Figaro and now The Merry Widow.

  The titular role of Hanna Glawari was sung by the legendary American soprano, Renee Fleming, which she performed last season at the Metropolitan Opera which was featured in their HD live series. Ms. Fleming’s initial entrance, which sets the tone for the character as well as the act, fell flat as she was nearly inaudible during the opening song, Gentlemen, no more. Part of the reason for this is the consistent insensitivity of conductor, Sir Andrew Davis who doesn’t seem to have a clue when the orchestra is covering the singers. Ms. Fleming sounded breathy, uneasy, and possibly sick throughout the entire first act. It was a strain to hear her which, the sole exception being her high notes which, although louder, sounded unfocused and fuzzy. Ms. Fleming’s voice warmed up as the night went on and had flashes of silvery shine in the third act. It sounds as if Ms. Fleming no longer has the control and ability that she once had, which is in no way a critique of her singing. It’s an unfortunate reality of time. Ms. Fleming has been a saving grace for opera over the last three decades and I’m sure will continue to do so in a behind the scenes capacity.

  Singing the role of the dashing aristocrat Danilo Danilovitch, was another legendary American singer, baritone Thomas Hampson. Like Ms. Fleming, Mr. Hampson has been a positive voice in advocating for not only classical singing, but a wide variety of vocal music. I had the opportunity to hear him in recital this past summer at Ravinia’s Martin theatre, the program including songs by Schubert, Mahler, and contemporary composers including the Chicago premier of Jennifer Higdon’s Civil Words. As always, Mr. Hampson was committed to the role of Danilo. He seemed to be relaxed and enjoying the playfulness of the character evident in the duet Jogging, In a One Horse Gig and the guys only number, Who can tell what the hell women are. Still more like Ms. Fleming, Mr. Hampson sounded on the tight side and strained with the high tessitura of Danilo. He seemed to be employing more of a sprech-stimme vocal line which stripped his voice of the normally bright color and projection. Hearing both Ms. Fleming and Mr. Hampson in this production was like watching two future Hall of Fame baseball players in the last games of the careers.

  Making her Lyric opera debut in the role Valencienne was American soprano Heidi Stober. Ms. Stober has a rounded soprano voice that had depth and was nicely balanced, although at times she sounded a little uneasy in the upper part of her range. Her tone is similar to that of Ms. Fleming’s in that it is on the darker side of the soprano spectrum which was a contrast to the bright lyrical tone of Valencienne’s love interest, tenor Michael Spyres. Like Mr. Hampson, she was relaxed and seemed to enjoy the character.

  Singing the role of the man in love with the married Valencienne, Camille De Rosillon, was American lyric tenor, Michael Spyres. He has an incredibly sweet sounding voice that comes across as effortless in its production. His high notes rang out easily and balanced with the rest of his voice. Mr. Spyres let his voice do the acting for him as not much is to be expected from the two-dimensional character of Camille de Rosillon. There were times when he would be drowned out by the other singing as well as the orchestra, not to his own fault. Mr. Spyres’ singing was the vocal highlight of the night.

  Making his lyric opera debut in the role of Valencienne’s husband and Pontevedrian ambassador, Baron Zeta, was American bass-baritone, Patrick Carfizzi. The role required little in the way of solos for Mr. Carfizzi which was a shame given how nice his voice sounded in the few moments he had.  His acting was straightforward and not overdone, although like most of the supporting characters, Baron Zeta is an archetype role that doesn’t require a great amount of depth.

In the non-singing role of Baron Zeta’s assistant, Njegus, was Chicago actor and singer, Jeff Dumas. Mr. Dumas has been featured regionally and nationally in various theater productions and tours and has been nominated for various awards for his work. The lyric made the right choice in casting Mr. Dumas as he was undoubtedly the true comic hub of the show making the most out of each moment he was given. My only regret is that he wasn’t allowed more time to develop his bits.

  The supporting roles of the dueling French aristocrats vying for Hanna’s affections were tenor, Jonathan Johnson as Raoul de St. Brioche and Paul La Rosa as Viscount Cascada. Mr. Johnson has a flexible tenor voice that is a bit on the smaller side which made it difficult to pick him out in ensemble numbers. His voice sounded balanced and easily produced. Mr. La Rosa’s baritone is a shade on the darker side in tone and he had some trouble being heard in the passaggio and sounded a bit strained at times.

  The smaller ensemble roles were handled appropriately without unnecessary histrionics or calls for attention. One of the visual highlights was the wonderful dancing, choreographed by the incomparable Susan Stroman who also directed the production.  The dance numbers varied between Pontevedrian folk dances, waltzes, and the exciting French Grisettes featured at Maxim’s.

Conducting the wonderful Lyric Opera orchestra was Sir Andrew Davis. Sir Davis has been consistent over the past 3 seasons in his unwillingness to restrain the orchestra’s volume so as not to drown out the singers and this performance was no different. As said before, Miss Flemming was nearly inaudible during most of the first act and Sir Davis did nothing in the way of dynamics to help her. There was also a lack of sensitivity with regard to the musical style of the waltz. From the start the tempo was on the quicker side and straightforward. A waltz of this style needs to have a great deal of rubato to simulate the movement of dance. Sir Andrew Davis was having none of that and carried on with his staid lead.

Susan Stroman directed and choreographed the visually wonderful performance. The movement was nicely restrained and not over the top which was a good contrast the lively motion and spectacle of the dancing scenes. The set design of Julian Crouch was extravagant, yet tastefully done with an ornate entrance the Pontevedrian embassy in act 1, Hanna’s beautiful palatial garden with view of Paris, and the interior of Maxim’s adorned with a double staircase. The costume design of William Ivey Long was decadent in color and style, but not gaudy or over the top as it was in this season’s The Marriage of Figaro.

If my top priority in going to the Opera was the visual aesthetic, then this production would be right on the mark. Susan Stroman’s vision was quite grand and full of life. Unfortunately hearing the production is first on my list and this production, with a few exceptions did not have me walking away with a smile on my face. I can only hope that the Lyric Opera has changes in place for the next few seasons when it comes to main casting. Despite some wonderful productions over the last few seasons, it seems like it’s business as usual which is no longer making the grade.

Wozzeck

 

  “A fire… A fire rises from the Earth to Heaven and there’s a terrible noise like trumpets…” are the hauntingly prophetic words sung by the eponymous character in the first act of Alban Berg’s opera, Wozzeck. Moments later the mentally ravaged soldier sings, “Still. All is still as if the world has died” as if he can see the unavoidable conflict that would be labeled “The Great War” rolling through the fields, shaking the hollow ground beneath him.

  The ten years that preceded World War I was a revolutionary time in each facet of everyday life. There were enormous changes in the areas of industry, technology, communication, and mass consumption. People were traveling farther, seeing more, going faster, and being introduced a wider range of the foreign cultures. The form and organization of the previous century were soon in conflict with that of the golden age. Colonization brought new and improved goods to Europe expanding economic development and innovation, while creating competition for workers at home. Women received education en masse giving them individual opportunities in a wide range of areas which helped to liberate them from the old hierarchy and having to depend less on men. The economic modernization and rapid changes in the social fabric created a backlash. The average European man felt disjointed and out of place. Technologically advanced machinery created efficiency, but demanded more from men while providing less in the ways of income, rights, and a sense of belonging. The once indestructible form of masculinity that had been the bedrock of European society was being toppled evident in lower birth rates, changing family structures, and a perceived emasculation. Men at the turn of the century felt as though they were losing grasp of their place in the world.  

  The perception of instability is one of many themes expressed by Viennese composer Alban Berg through the mentally unwoven and demented character of Wozzeck. Berg, who had at a young age became a favored pupil of the musically innovative Arnold Schoenberg, was an inextricable part of the musical and artistic scene in Vienna which focused on structure, function, and form. Schoenberg, Berg, and the composers of the second Viennese school sought a return to the elemental aspects of music and language by replacing the ornamentation and florid lines of classical tradition with the variation and expansion of simple themes. This refutation of the established past was spreading to every corner of the artistic community in Europe. The Goldman & Salatsch building designed by architect Alfred Loos, which sat across the square from the Imperial palace, created a stir with its stark look and lack of classical ornamentation that had been a staple of the Viennese visual aesthetic. Gustav Klimt’s subversive symbolism and motto of naked truth attempted to break through the carefully constructed façade of ‘good society’. Klimt clothed his subjects in seductive looks and suggestive poses alongside ornate fabrics meant to titillate the viewer. And on the heels of that libidinous revolt was Sigmund Freud delving in to Vienna’s hidden sexual desires in order to eradicate the dysfunctions that repressed society.

  Berg’s opera, based on the Georg Büchner play ‘Woyzeck’, peeled back the skin of the pre-war golden age to reveal the growing nervousness, paranoia, and instability of society which industry, government, and military exploited for its own gain.  The story centers on the characters of Wozzeck, a poor soldier in a rural German town and Marie, Wozzeck’s lover and the mother of his young son. Wozzeck, desperate for money, submits himself to the irrational judgements of his Captain and the unethical experiments pseudo-scientific doctor. As a result Wozzeck had lost touch with reality and has paranoid visions that haunt him day and night. He laments being poor and the difficulty of acting in a moral and virtuous manner without money. The ignorant Captain, confused by Wozzeck’s response, berates him like a child. Wozzeck’s interactions with a quack military doctor who spouts unintelligible scientificac words are similar to that of the Captain. The extra money Wozzeck earns goes to support Marie, the mother of his son. She too laments her poverty throughout the opera and wishes for a better situation than what Wozzeck can provide. Marie soon to the sexual advances of the Drum major she had seen earlier marching in the parade past her window. Wozzeck, already paranoid and unhinged, becomes jealous of Marie and her romance with the Drum Major who demeans him by telling everyone in the army barracks. As Wozzeck loses hold of the little sanity he has left, Marie reads bible stories about Mary Magdalen, whom she identifies with and longs for forgiveness. Wozzeck and Marie go for a walk near a pond. Marie notices how red the moon looks. Wozzeck tells her that if he can’t have her, no one can and stabs her to death. Wozzeck soon drowns in the pond trying to clean off Marie’s blood. The opera ends with their son playing with other children, unaware of his parents’ death.

  Director David McVicar’s restrained stage directions were key in highlighting the wide range of emotions that the main characters portrayed. Mr. McVicar allowed the music and text to speak for itself. He did not make the mistake of having too much action, especially in the larger ensemble scenes. Mr. McVicar staged those scenes in a way for the audience to keep focus on the story as it unfolded rather than be drawn away to a purely visual spectacle.

  Set and costume designer, Vicki Mortimer accented the bleak and mentally damaged aesthetic of the opera with hospital curtains, the full length of the stage, pulled open and closed during scene changes. She also placed a war memorial of sorts in the middle of the stage. A shrouded figure lies on its back with an outstretched hand coming up out of the cover. The back drop is a desolate gray chiseled quarry like scene of a post-war area as if it’s one large bombed out crater.

  Sir Andrew Davis was at the podium once again and like previous performances, he started out Wozzeck with the orchestra playing too loud which occasionally drowned out the sprech-stimme lines of the singers. Fortunately this problem was rectified early on, whether it was a purposeful decision or Berg’s orchestration, the orchestra didn’t continue to cover the singers and played with wonderful dynamic variation and color.

  Polish bass-baritone, Tomasz Konieczny sang the role of the psychologically brittle soldier, Wozzeck. He has a dark color to his voice that had no problem being heard in the lower range, but what amazed me the most was how piercing and silvery his high notes were without sacrificing the blend of register. Mr. Konieczny didn’t overact the part or come across as affected and like Mr. McVicar’s direction, he sang the lines and followed the stage directions with restraint which added to the suspense of the drama.

  German soprano, Angela Denoke sang the role of Wozzeck’s lover, Marie. She has a beautifully rich tone that easily projected in to the hall. She sounded a little wobbly at the outset which corrected itself soon thereafter. Ms. Denoke sang with expression, intensity and dynamic variation. Her characterization wasn’t tortured in the same way as that of Mr. Konieczny’s Wozzeck, but she was strong willed and less restrained which was a nice counterbalance for the two characters.

  German tenor, Gerhard Siegel sang the roll of the self-absorbed Captain. Mr. Siegel has a piercingly bright tenor voice that seems to have been written for him by Berg. His voice naturally sits quite high and he handled the difficult tessitura of the Captain with little problem other than a squeak at the outset of the opera. Again, Mr. Siegel’s portrayal of his character, like his colleagues, was restrained and to the point which served the opera well. There wasn’t a need for histrionics as the music and story was dramatic enough on its own.

  British bass, Brindley Sherratt sang the role of the unethical pseudo-scientific Doctor. He was heard in this season’s production of ‘The Marriage of Figaro’ as Bartolo. I felt that the role of the Doctor gave Mr. Sherratt more of a chance to showcase his rich and cutting bass.

  German tenor Stefan Vinke sang the role of the pompous and overly masculine Drum Major. His dramatic voice projected throughout the hall, but sounded a bit strained at times.

  Ryan Center alum and Lyric tenor, David Portillo sang the role of Wozzeck’s friend and bunk mate, Andres. Mr. Portillo sings with a beautifully fluid and agile tone that expressed the innocent and open character of Andres. His voice, though not small, had a little harder time being heard against some of Berg’s thicker textures as well as the large voice of Tomasz Konieczny.

  The comprimario roles were sung nicely by Jill Grove, Brenton Ryan, Bradley Smoak, and Anthony Clark Evans, with Mr. Smoak who was also heard in the previous production of Figaro being a standout. He has a rich and evenly balanced bass that is more on the lyrical side. I was also happy to hear Mr. Evans’ who made the most of his small role with some impressive high notes.

  With the exception of Mozart’s Figaro, this season has been a joy to attend and I hope that it continues in the current direction with the upcoming productions of ‘The Merry Widow’ and ‘Bel Canto’, although I remain skeptical given the past few seasons’ inconsistent track record especially when it comes to comic operas.  

La Cenerentola

 

 

La Cenerentola by Gioachino Rossini is the non-magical operatic version of the popular rags to riches story of Cinderella. Cenerentola (literally translated as girl of the cinders) is actually named Angelina, the terribly treated step-daughter of Baron Don Magnifico who has used the inheritance after the death of her birth mother. Don Magnifico and his two spoiled daughters, in hopes of replenishing their monetary funds, plan on wooing the local prince who, as chance may have it, must immediately marry or lose his title.

  After the runaway success of The Barber of Seville the previous year, the 25 year old Rossini struck gold again with La Cenerentola first performed in January of 1817. The Barber of Seville and La Cenerentola are quite similar in nature. Although the latter is referred to as a drama giocoso, both are Opera Buffo stories that revolve around a young girl metaphorically in shackles looking to change her life for the better. The main difference between the characters of Rosina and Cenerentola’s Angelina, created by mezzo-soprano Geltrude Righetti, seems to be their demeanor. Rosina is more proactive in freeing herself from the walls of Bartolo’s will in pursuit of her unknown suitor, while Cenerentola daydreams of a better life only to unwittingly procure her wants as the result of a stranger’s generous disposition.

In my reviews I normally begin with the singers in attempt to emphasize the point the opera’s first priority is singing, but this time I would like to start with the orchestra; more specifically the conductor of the production, Sir Andrew Davis. In the past I have expressed my opinion that the orchestra of the Lyric Opera is world class and consistently in top form. With the 2015-16 season already nearing its third production, I cannot reiterate that claim due to the lackadaisical attention of the conductors, Sir Andrew Davis the most guilty. I have commented in past reviews at an opera house the seats over 3,500 conductors need to be hypersensitive to the dynamics of the orchestra and cheat towards a softer volume so as not to drown out the singers, with Sir Andrew Davis being the main culprit of criticism. He did nothing, but strengthen my opinion with this most recent performance. In an opera like La Cenerentola, the singers often have fast moving melodic lines that cross and intertwine with other singers, a staple of Bel Canto opera that Rossini was known for. There are also many sections of rhythmic based singing known as “Patter” which involves a lot of words and articulation of consonants. It is difficult for a singer to generate a great deal of volume in these types of fast moving songs and an orchestra, if not reined in by the conductor, can drown out the vocal lines quite easily. This is exactly what happened in the performance of La Cenerentola, along with a lack of coordination between the orchestra and singers. This responsibility lies at the feet of the conductor. Sir Andrew Davis appeared to be marking time and rarely looking up at the singers, an integral part of the conducting responsibilities for an opera production. At one point a set of mirrored doors were on stage allowing the audience to glimpse the conductor head on. Rarely if ever did Sir Andrew Davis appear to look up. As a consequence the singers were routinely covered by the orchestra. I, for one, am tired of this and think it may be time, as it is the case with James Levine at the Met, for Sir Andrew Davis to step aside and allow a younger generation of conductor to helm the principal conducting duties of the Lyric Opera.

Singing the title role of Cenerentola (Angelina) was American mezzo-soprano, Isabel Leonard. Ms. Leonard made her Lyric Opera debut in one of the roles that she has become known for, that of Rosina in The Barber of Seville. I quite enjoyed her in that role as she was one of the highlights of that performance. Ms. Leonard has an innately beautiful round tone that has depth and projection. Unfortunately in this performance those attributes didn’t seem to help her much. Ms. Leonard’s singing and stage presence lacked energy and urgency. While her colleagues sang with intensity and focus, Ms. Leonard’s coloratura was at times foggy and in need of articulation. The top of her voice, when supported and energized, had bloom and color, which was not consistent. Her commitment to the character looked a bit listless in line with her overall singing. She didn’t inhabit the character of a young woman seeking to right the injustices of her step-family. Ms. Leonard’s Cenerentola seemed to accept her lot in life rather than fight her way out of the cinders.

  Juxtaposed to Ms. Leonard’s unfocused performance was the crisp and clear Don Ramiro of American tenor, Lawrence Brownlee’s. Mr. Brownlee, in his Lyric Opera debut, sang with purpose, energy, and intensity evident not only in the balance of the sound, but the ease and agility with which it was produced. To me his voice is the epitome of a Rossini tenor. Its silvery color has a rapid vibrato which creates a sense of fluidity as it dances around Rossini’s fioritura. Mr. Brownlee, though not an incredible actor, was comfortable on the stage and performed the choreographed moments in a concise manner much like his singing. My only complaint was the recurring nasality in his tone on sustained notes or passages that sat in the break between the middle register and upper register (F-G in a Tenor’s voice).

  Another member of last season’s Barber of Seville performance was legendary Italian baritone and Bel Canto specialist, Alessandro Corbelli. Similar in nature to the character of Dr. Bartolo in The Barber of Seville, Mr. Corbelli sang the comic role of Cenerentola’s uncaring fast talking step-father, Don Magnifico. As he did in the Barber performance, Mr. Corbelli brought life to the character of the brusk and self-serving Magnifico with precise comic timing and understated nuance. His voice, though at times rough, easily projected in to the hall and was balanced from top to bottom. He has made an art of Rossini’s consonant riddled ensembles and could perform these roles in his sleep. He very well could be the Lawrence Olivier of operatic acting method.

 Making his Lyric Opera debut in the role of Dandini, Don Ramiro’s servant was Italian baritone Vito Priante. Mr. Priante’s virile baritone was clear and agile and could easily be heard over the orchestra. Like Mr. Brownlee, he has a faster sounding vibrato that helped create line in his voice. He had a tendency to push a bit near the top of his range which stuck out with respect to volume. Like Mr. Corbelli, Mr. Priante committed to the characterization and appeared to enjoy hamming it up for the audience.

Perhaps my favorite singing moment of the night belonged to American bass-baritone Christian Van Horn in the role of the philosopher, Alidoro. Mr. Van Horn has a dark rich voice that was well connected and had depth throughout his entire range that was shown off in the first act aria, Là del ciel nell'arcano profondo. He had no problem being heard over the orchestra, with the exception of when he was required to sing piano in ensembles and the orchestra (as mentioned earlier) drown out most of the singers. The stoic role of Alidoro didn’t require much acting from Mr. Van Horn and his voice was all the presence he really needed.

The roles of the demanding step-sisters were sung by first year members of the Ryan Opera Center, soprano Diana Newman and mezzo-soprano Annie Rosen whose voices and movements blended nicely together. They added the right amount of comic flair to opera without having to go overboard. Once again, they were unfortunately drowned out in large numbers like act one’s wonderful ensemble, O figlie amabili due to the overpowering dynamics of the orchestra.

The sets and design by Joan Guillen were bright not only in color, but lighting as the floor of Don Ramiro’s palace was comparable to the dance floor in the movie, Saturday Night Fever. The costumes were exaggerated late 18^th century, early 19^th century styles with oversized hoop dresses and jackets with an apparent nod to Alice in Wonderland meets comedia dell’arte. This extravagance did not seem out of place compared to the excess of The Marriage of Figaro which detracted from the action. The grid-like chess board look of La Cenerentola fit nicely with the giocoso part of the drama.

 

 I wished that Barbara Gaines, the director of Lyric’s Marriage of Figaro, would have seen this production to see how operatic slapstick comedy worked. Director Joan Font did a wonderful job of allowing the comic roles enough freedom to be funny without cheap jokes to the audience. The icing on the opera buffo cake was the stylized choreography in ensemble numbers that Rossini’s music begged for. There were a few moments where some Mel Brooks moments were missed.

“Walk this way…”

The men’s chorus sounded nice and balanced and they were a character onto themselves, executing the numerous choreographed scenes with ease. The orchestra itself sounded good, but nut its normal top notch self. Again I contribute that what I envision to be a lack of musical vision. I found myself smiling during most of the musical numbers and was delighted by the overall production which has been a rarity the past few seasons. Rossini has an uncanny ability to make one smile and tap their toes at the most unexpected times.

The Marriage of Figaro

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s timeless opera The Marriage of Figaro is a look into human nature seen through the lenses of class struggle, sexual politics, and a universal desire for love. The second in a trilogy of stories by watchmaker, autodidact, music teacher, inventor, arms dealer, diplomat, publisher, revolutionary, and for the purposes of this review playwright, Pierre Beaumarchais, The Marriage of Figaro (the play) was to be staged in 1781, but King Louis XVI upon hearing Figaro’s soliloquy deriding the nobility he forbade it from being produced in France. After a myriad of changes to the text, the play was put on in 1784 and soon after was a hit. Like Beaumarchais, Mozart and his librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte had to jump through many hoops to have the operatic adaptation staged in 1786.  The opera, which premiered in Vienna, was an instant success. The many attributes of Figaro, who was a fictional representation of Beaumarchais, was seen to many as not only the revolutionary ideal, but the epitome of the 19^th century man. Figaro was an upwardly mobile self-made man of intellect, cunning, and vision who longed for liberty so that he could achieve success based on talent, not birthright.

  It is easy to see why this classic story appeals to people of all ages and backgrounds. Unfortunately the production of The Marriage of Figaro that opened the Lyric Opera of Chicago’s season directed by Barbara Gaines, did not convey or embrace those tenets which made the work so loved. This production of Figaro was liberal in its translation, interpretation, sound, and vision. It seemed to ignore the developed characters of Beaumarchais’ play and lacked the warmth of Mozart’s music as a result of the emphasis on sexually explicit slapstick comedy. I’m afraid that Ms. Gaines’ attempt to produce a new take on Figaro resulted in the removal of the universal message of strife, love, and renewal.

 

Making his Lyric Opera debut in the role of Figaro was Czech Baritone, Adam Placetka. The young singer has already amassed a wide range of baritone roles such as Figaro in addition to Don Basilio, normally sung by a Bass, in Rossini’s ‘The Barber of Seville’, to parts traditionally cast for more lyric voices like Count Almaviva, Don Giovanni, and Belcore in Donizetti’s ‘L’Elisir d’Amore’. Mr. Placetka has a well-rounded and virile tone that was consistent throughout the performance. He was able to sing the whole range of the role and had no problem with the dynamic shifts required rather than singing forte the whole night which some baritones may be tempted to do in such a large auditorium like the Civic Opera House. There were moments when his voice sounded a bit strained in the passaggio when singing forte over the orchestra, but those were few and far between. It is understandable that Mr. Plachetka was listed as a Bass-Baritone given the dark timbre of his voice, but when one hears the ease with which he sang in the upper register, especially when employing messa di voce, it is quite clear that he is closer to the lyric side of the baritone spectrum than the bass. Mr. Placetka’s voice sounds like a hybrid of Bryn Terfel’s color and Hermann Prey’s robust jubilance without the incessant warble of the former. He did become fatigued at times, understandably so given the amount of singing the role requires combined with being a 30 year old singer in a 3,500+ seat house. His acting was a bit stiff, but again opera is first and foremost an aural experience rather than a visual one.

  Also making her Lyric Opera debut as well as North American one in the role of Figaro’s bride to be, Susanna was German soprano Christiane Karg. Ms. Karg has a bright lyrical sound that is fresh and agile. She had no problem managing not only the vocal range, but the endurance needed for the role of Susanna as she is in nearly every scene at one point or another. Ms. Karg’s acting was relaxed and not over the top which counterbalanced the histrionic nature of the comprimario roles. Ms. Karg sounded her best in the third act duet with the Countess, “Sull’aria”, blending wonderfully with soprano Amanda Majeski as well as her moments with Rachel Frenkel singing the role of Cherubino. The one unsurprising criticism was the smaller size of Ms. Karg’s voice which at times would be drowned out by the orchestra or other singers as in the duet with Count Almaviva in the beginning of the third act. This repeated battle between voice size and orchestra volume begs the question as to why the Lyric Opera does not make either a concerted effort to not over power the soloists or, more preferably find an alternative performance space for 18^th century operas like ‘The Marriage of Figaro’.

Singing the role of the Countess was soprano and Illinois native, Amanda Majeski.  Before the opening curtain it was announced that Ms. Majeski was suffering from a cold evident in the Countesses first aria, Porgi, Amor, that opens act two, but she soon warmed up and sang with beauty of tone and flexibility. She did continue to have some strident moments during the latter act two ensembles when having to sing in the top of her range. Despite the difficulty of being under the weather, Ms. Majeski was able to give one of the better performances of the night and sounded better as the opera went on, unlike some of her colleagues. Ms. Majeski also looked at ease on the stage, rolling around on the enormous bed in the Countesses’ chambers.

The role of Count Almaviva was sung by internationally renowned Italian baritone, Luca Pisaroni who has performed at many of the world’s most well-known opera houses. Mr. Pisaroni has made a name for himself, not only in his vocal versatility, but the vibrant characterizations he brings to the operatic stage. Like Mr. Plachetka, Mr. Pisaroni is listed as a Bass-baritone and has sung both the roles of Figaro as well as Count Almaviva. With such a great reputation I was eager to hear him live. Unfortunately I didn’t feel that he lived up to the vocal part of what he has become known for. Mr. Pisaroni has a pleasant tone and sounds at ease when singing in the lower part of his range as well as the middle. He had no problem being heard in the large Civic Opera House and sang with a great deal of dynamic variation and sensitivity to the text. It was when he was required to sing in the passaggio for long phrases, such as in the Count’s demanding act three recitative and aria, Hai gia vinta la causa that Mr. Pisaroni began to sound tenuous and forced. It seems as though years of performing baritones roles that don’t require him to sing above D has done his upper range a disservice. The shining parts of Mr. Pisaroni’s performance were his natural personality, his ease on the stage, and commitment to the characterization given him by the director. He had no problem playing up comic moments and seemed to enjoy the role.

The part of the young love-sick page, Cherubino was sung by Israeli mezzo-soprano, Rachel Frenkel making her Lyric Opera debut. Ms. Frenkel has a beautiful round tone, but not too dark with brightness to it that epitomizes the type of mezzo-soprano voice for the role of Cherubino. She brought an unrestrained energy to the role of the teen-aged boy in heat, which at times compromised the vocal line with liberal straight tone as in Cherubino’s first aria, Non son piu. Like Mr. Pisaroni, she was at ease on the stage and seemed to enjoy inhabiting the characteristics of a pubescent heart-throb. Her voice was fluid throughout the entire range and had no trouble being heard over the orchestra and in ensembles. 

The comprimario parts of Marcellina, sung by mezzo-soprano Katharine Goeldner and Bartolo, sung by bass Brindley Sherratt were executed wonderfully. They came alive were great foils for the hopes of Figaro and Susanna, but didn’t go way over the top or take away from the action. The supporting tenor part of Basilio, the licentious singing teacher sung by Keith Jameson was nicely done with the right amount of tongue in cheek attitude and comic timing. The role of Don Curzio the stuttering lawyer, sung by tenor Jonathan Johnson was quite understated and almost forgettable as a character. I’d be curious whose decision it was to take down the comic aspect of that role. Ryan Center members Hlengiwe Mkhwanazi and Bradley Smoak sang the small supporting roles of Barbarina and her uncle, Antonio the gardener. Both had beautiful sounding voices with Mr. Smoak standing out in his time alongside both Figaro and the Count. If one of them fell ill I would be happy hearing him take over for the night.

The set design by James Noone was sparse at times, but comical as in the second act when we see the Countess lounging on an enormous bed that could easily sleep 3 rows of 15 people. The costumes by Susan Mickey were quite florid and over the top which caused a bit of confusion as well as consternation. At the beginning of the opera, Susanna was dressed in what looked like hot pants and garters before putting on a short blue ruffled dress that made her look like she was in an ad for a futuristic St. Paulie Girl beer. In the third act the female chorus members wore purple dresses and all had their hair done up in tower like configurations sticking out in three directions which was reminiscent of Pebbles Flintstone. The male chorus members were dressed in 18^th century styled violet paisley frock coats with feather lining around their necks and faux-hawk pompadours that made them look like a cross between Elton John and Liberace, but not in a good way.

The general areas where I found the most faults in the production were with the conducting, the directing, and the translation. Henrik Nanasi, making his American debut with the Lyric Opera, didn’t seem to take control of the musical aspect of the production. There were many moments of disorganization between the orchestra and singers throughout the first two acts. Many of the tempi were too fast for my liking, as in the case of the Countesses’ second aria, Dove sono. Mr. Nanasi, like many other conductors at the Lyric opera, failed to restrain the orchestra from covering some of the voices as was the case with Ms. Karg who voice, albeit beautiful, is on the smaller side for the Civic Opera house and was drowned out at times.

 

The general stage direction itself was fine. It was the specific actions and characterizations that went against the traditional interpretation that made the production not only confusing, but unrealistic. There was a general theme of man handing women without any type of consent. Cherubino incessantly groped Susanna, The Countess, Barbarina, as well as a chorus girl here and there.  The Count did not come across as an aristocrat with a diverse sexual appetite in the vein of the Vicomte de Valmont in the 18^th century epistolary novel, Les Liaisons dangereuses. Instead he was an ass-grabbing sex fiend with the decorum of drunken Frat boy on his 21^st birthday. He, like Cherubino, was constantly reaching up dresses whenever given the chance. This is more like the behavior you’d seen on the Benny Hill Show rather than that of a rich aristocrat in the late 1700’s who’s used to getting his own way. Even Figaro got in to the action when playing a prank on Susanna who was dressed up as the Countess. If this was Ms. Gaines’ comic sensibility, then perhaps Opera buffa is not for her. At one point during the Count’s third act aria, a group of chandeliers that were low to the ground are raised revealing to the audience two Greek statues, a man and a woman both half-naked. They’re strategically placed so that the male statue has its hand placed on the derriere of the female statue. The laughter from the audience covered the vocal line (which is what we came to hear) and took distracted from what the character was singing. The director’s staging continues with this gag as the Count pulls the two statues apart, for what reason she only knows, and does a disservice to the inner thoughts of the Count. With all of the Keystone Cop antics in this production along with the serial sexual assault, it’s a wonder why the Countess would ever think to forgive the Count. Ms. Gaines’ directoral vision made a mockery of the story and made the resolution unbelievable. 

 

The last of the three aspects of this production that were disappointing, to say the least, was the incredibly liberal translation that the Lyric Opera used in the subtitles. The english version shown above the stage was riddled with faults, from the inclusion of modern slang, to integral thoughts being left out as was the once again in the Count’s aria, Vedrò, mentr'io sospiro.

Like so many opera fans, The Marriage of Figaro is one of my favorite productions to hear, but the Lyric Opera of Chicago’s season opener, despite the indivdual highlights mentioned above, was disappointing and at times downright annoying. I am all for new ways to look at operatic staging, but not if it’s going to be take away from the original intent and replace Opera Buffa with boobie jokes stolen from Porky’s or The Bachelor Party.