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.