Romeo and Juliet

 

 

  As is the case with many classic works, the story of Romeo and Juliet is an age old tale passed down from generation to generation over the course of the last six hundred years. Although William Shakespeare is the artist most closely associated with the work, the tale of the young star-crossed lovers as we know it can be traced back to a narrative poem written around 1562 by English poet, Arthur Brooke, but even his work was based on a story by Italian writer, Matteo Bandello. Shakespeare stuck closely to the storyline of Brooke’s Romeus and Juliet with the exception of the death scene in which Juliet wakes up moments before Romeo succumbs to the poison he has consumed. This is one of the many alterations that librettists, Jules Barbier & Michel Carre, used for the Gounod’s operatic adaptation of Shakespeare’s masterpiece, which premiered at the Theatre Lyrique, Paris in April of 1867. Gounod’s Romeo et Juliet, which has been described as “a love duet with occasional interruptions”, is his second most popular opera next to the extremely popular Faust.

  Singing the role of the young love struck Romeo was internationally renowned tenor, Joseph Calleja. It is important to note that this being the 4^th time hearing Mr. Calleja live, I am not the biggest fan of his voice. That is not to say that I dislike it, but there are aspects of the innate sound of his singing that doesn’t appeal to me. With that being said, there are many aspects of his singing that is quite wonderful as was apparent during this performance. Mr. Calleja consistently sang with a connected line and was at times quite sensitive with regard to musical dynamics. The softer sounds he makes are perhaps the most appealing aspect of his singing. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough to win me over in his portrayal of Romeo. Mr. Calleja consistently cuts off the ending notes of a phrase making it sound clipped and hurried. His voice tended to go flat at times and was strained in the highest part of his register to the point where his voice was inaudible. Matters weren’t helped by Mr. Calleja’s less than stellar characterization of Romeo. His stage presence was unbelievable at best which progressed to the ridiculous as he swaggered around like a stereotypical 1950’s businessman coming home from a hard day at work. Even with a heavy dose of suspension of disbelief, Mr. Calleja hardly embodied youthful amour or innocent exuberance. To no fault of his own the stage directions (which I will tackle later on) that he was given didn’t allow for much emotional development which Mr. Calleja made worse by turning away from Ms. Phillips’ Juliet at the times when loving eye contact was necessary to heighten the sense of tension and desire.

  My feelings of the latter half of the titular characters are only slightly better than the former. Singing the role of Juliet is American Soprano and Ryan Center alumna, Susanna Phillips. Ms. Phillips has a naturally beautiful voice that has little problem being heard over the orchestra. She sings with a great deal of enthusiasm and energy which was evident by her almost inexhaustible ability to run around the stage without being hampered in her singing. Her voice is nicely rounded, but a bit more colorful than what I personally prefer for this role. By that I mean that Ms. Phillips seems to lack a frontal component or ring to her voice that gives the sound a youthful aspect, which may be the innate sound of her voice or something more on the technical side. Ms. Phillips didn’t sing with the same type of sensitivity with respect to dynamics as Mr. Calleja did and the top of her range became strident at times with the highest notes coming across as a literal scream. Ms. Phillips’ characterization wasn’t anywhere near the ridiculous nature of Mr. Calleja’s as she consistently sang to her partner in even when he was looking away. Needless to say that was absolutely no chemistry between Romeo and Juliet which makes one wonder about casting decisions at the Lyric.

  Singing the role of Friar Laurence was American bass-baritone and another Ryan Center alumna, Christian Van Horn. Mr. Van Horn sang with a wonderfully round tone, depth of sound, musical sensitivity, and a legato line. As in the past, he let his singing bring out the character as his acting was refreshingly subtle. I look forward to hearing more of Mr. Van Horn’s singing and predict that within the next 5 years he will take off the baritone suffix to his vocal description as his voice continues to darken.

  Singing the role of Juliet’s father, Lord Capulet, was American bass-baritone Philip Horst. The role of Lord Capulet is a bit one-dimensional in scope, but Mr. Horst avoided ‘spicing’ up his portrayal and let his incredibly resonant voice do the talking. His first act aria was sung in a rather straightforward manner with little musical dynamics as was most of his singing.

American baritone Joshua Hopkins sang the role of Mercutio with spirit and energy. The baritone’s taxing aria, Mab, la reine des mensonges, was sung with musicality and energetic personality. Mr. Hopkins lyric baritone could easily be heard and his voice balanced throughout his entire range. The aria, which is set early in the opera, gives little opportunity for the singer to rest and breath as the vocal line is concentrated throughout the entire piece, which seemed to be of no difficulty for Mr. Hopkins.

Singing the pants role of Stephano, in her Lyric Opera debut, was French mezzo-soprano Marianne Crebassa. The comprimario role has little to do for the first half of the opera, but he becomes the catalyst for the bloody duel between Mercutio and Tybalt. Ms. Crebassa has a beautiful and bright tone with a well-balanced color and depth that fits perfectly for these types of mezzo roles. Her singing was light and agile and projected well given the size of the orchestra. Her acting leaned on the seemingly butch side which came across as a bit kitsch unnecessary.

  The remaining supporting roles were sung mostly by Ryan Center members or alumna with the exceptions of Deborah Nansteel in the role of Gertrude and Jason Slayden as Tybalt. A voice that has repeatedly stood out to my ears has been that of Ryan Center member, Baritone Anthony Clark Evans whose voice, although not incredibly big, is round, dark, and nicely balanced throughout his entire range. Mr. Evans sings in a nicely connected legato line and seems at ease on the stage.

  The orchestra was led by Maestro Emmanuel Villaume who appeared to be not only in control of the orchestra, but consistently in contact with the singers which was evident in the balance in volume between the stage and pit. The Lyric Opera Chorus under the direction of Michael Black sounded wonderful which should come as no surprise.

The dark 15^th century sets of Michael Yeargan and period appropriate costume designs of Catherine Zuber were again down stated and tastefully down as compared with this year’s season opener of Le Nozze di Figaro. Unfortunately the positive aspects of this production were not able to outweigh the direction Bartlett Sher in his Lyric Opera debut. The blocking and stage directions were at best manic which continuously progressed to the ridiculous. Whether it was a directorial decision or a stylistic choice by Mr. Calleja, Romeo was consistently singing to the audience, with Juliet at his back rather than looking at her in tender moments. This practice was confusing and annoying to say the least. Mr. Sher had the opposing Montagues and Capulets chasing each other off and on stage like it was the Benny Hill Show. I expected to hear the carnival horn sounds to be played at any moment whenever the band of dueling marauders appeared on stage. Mr. Sher also had Susanna Phillips’ Juliet constantly flitting around the stage as if she were the prima ballerina in the Nutcracker. The constant physical activity was a major distraction from, not only the singing, but the true purpose of the story. It became nearly hysterical in the 3^rd act when Mr. Calleja’s Romeo, after having killed Tybalt, storms in to Juliet’s bedroom with the angry bravado of Clint Eastwood in a spaghetti western and throws his jacket to the ground. Given that Rome has just killed his sworn enemy, would it be smart of him to waltz in to the bedroom of that same family’s home without care of being found out? The directorial vision of Mr. Sher seemed to highlight operatic stereotypes in a negative way rather than diminish their impact with the final scene being the perfect example.

  Gounod, having changed the way that Romeo and Juliet perish, did no favors for operatic deaths, but Mr. Sher made it worse. He has Romeo walking around almost carefree after having drunk a vial of poison, singing sweet nothings to Juliet who has just awoke from her death like sleep. After ten minutes of looking to their future, Romeo suddenly drops to the ground, unable to stand due to the effects of the poison. He still manages to prop himself up and crawl around, even supporting Juliet’s weight in his arms. When the two characters finally croak, Juliet, who has just stabbed herself, not only shows no signs of a bloody wound, but dies within minutes. This whole farce could have been staged in such a way that dramatic irony and subtext would have spoken volumes while saving the audience from the ridiculous direction of Mr. Sher.

  Needless to say, the last production of the season, like the first, was more than a little disappointing in large part due to the unrestrained and unfocused vision of directors making their Lyric Opera debuts. Perhaps it would’ve done them some good to stick to the core of what makes opera great rather than ‘trying’ to direct.

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.