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.

Basta! Per carità!

  This blog was originally intended to review operatic productions at the Chicago Lyric Opera, more specifically the singing within operatic productions. As I listened to more and more opera singers that came through the Civic Opera house, I was increasingly alarmed at the lackluster casting decisions. Tenors who could not be heard above F#, consistently warbly vibrato, straight-tone pop sounds, young singers not ready for a large hall, and veterans way past their prime. I am, as I have always been, confused as to why these casting decisions have become the norm.

  I have gone back and forth on whether I should add a more pointed facet to this blog or maintain the form of being purely a critical Op Ed. Today was what I consider to be the final straw, although having nothing to do with the Lyric Opera, directly.

  I was having my morning coffee and reading the Arts & Leisure section of the New York Times (all the News that's fit to print) and saw an advertisement for the Metropolitan Opera's latest production for Rossini's, The Barber of Seville, starring Isabel Leonard, Lawrence Brownlee, and Christopher Maltman (in the role of Figaro). This struck me as odd, although I have never had the chance to hear Mr. Maltman in a live setting, whenever I've listened to his recordings there is an obvious lack of technique in his singing which, I can only assume, is glossed over by the average audience member due to the innate beauty of his voice.  I went on to YouTube and searched for him singing the aria, Largo al factotum and came across this clip below which was posted a few days back by the Metropolitan Opera House.

 

 

  I was, to say the least, pissed off. This performance, albeit during a dress rehearsal (with an audience), was amateur. You can easily find graduate students who can sing that aria far better than the clip above which makes the fact that the MET found this to be acceptable, all the worse. Below is a clip a clip of Thomas Hampson singing the same aria from 1986. Yes, he's on 31 and much younger than Mr. Maltman above (and Mr. Hampson has a couple of squeaks here as well), but these performances, side by side, are night and day.

 

 

 

 

 

Soon after working myself through the 7 stages of grief upon listening to the dress rehearsal clip, I read a tweet from the Teatro alla Scala (clip provided with link is Leo Nucci from 2013-14 season) that Placido Domingo would be performing the title role of Simon Boccanegra.

 

This is completely unacceptable!

 

  Yes, Mr. Domingo can sing the part and has done so many times for over 5 years, but anyone who is an opera enthusiast will tell you that being able to sing the part is not the only reason to do so. Even though Mr. Domingo has declared himself a Verdi baritone, has released a CD of Verdi Baritone arias, and performs at some of the leading opera houses around the world, does not mean that he is a Verdi baritone. It doesn't make him a baritone for that matter given that he still has the color and timbre of a tenor. Verdi, like most operatic composers, had specific vocal colors in mind when composing for the different voices. If Verdi had wanted a tenor to sing in the baritone range, he would've done so.

 

Below is a clip of Domingo singing  "Plebe! patrizi!", from Simon Boccanegra with a clip of the Verdi baritone, Piero Cappuccilli singing the same aria to illustrate my point.  

 

 

The color of the voice is that of a tenor.

 

 

 

  Once again, as in the case of Maltman and Hampson, albeit for different reasons, the contrast is night and day. The voice of Cappuccilli carries a weight and dramatic intensity that is not heard in that of Domingo's voice, not because he can't sing or isn't artistic. It is just not the type and classification of voice that Verdi had intended.

 

  Then why is Mr. Domingo still going on with his baritone experiment? Only he can answer that, but I can tell you for sure that it is doing irreparable damage to the operatic world and tradition. I can only hope that more music critics start pointing out these inequities despite possible retribution from the institutionalized bulwark of major opera houses, like the Met and La Scala.  

 

  As an addendum which I feel is related to this concern is a 5 minute section on Verdi tuning with some clips featuring Verdi baritone, Piero Cappuccilli talking about the colors of the voice and its importance.

 

Click on this link or view below.

 







Pasifal

  The Lyric Opera's production of Richard Wagner's last operatic work, Parsifal, may explain why the composer was reluctant to let it out of his proverbial sight of Bayreuth, even after his death in 1883. It is based on the 13th century long poem about the Arthurian knight, Percival written by Wolfram von Eschenbach. The story takes place in northern Spain during the middle ages. The curtains opens on Gurnemanz and his fellow knights of the Monsalvat kingdom, who guard the holy grail. It is explained that the king, Amfortas, in looking to end the conflict between Monsalvat and the kingdom of the fallen knight, Klingsor, was injured with a Christ like wound to his side with the same spear that Amfortas had been entrusted to look after. He is stricken with eternal suffering and must perform ritualistic acts to honor and protect his Kingdom which causes him great pains. An innocent fool, hunting in the forest happens upon the knights and learns of the prophecy and how a chosen one will right the wrongs of the past and bring peace to the kingdom. The chosen one must remain pure and refuse the amorous advances of woman that may lead him astray from his quest, which is to procure the spear that pierced Christ during his crucifixion and return it to Amfortas.

  With an epic drama as  this, adapted in to an epic opera like Parsifal, one would expect the performances to be epic as well. Unfortunately they were not. Even though the cast was filled with star studded names and promising careers, the performance fell short of what it could have been. There were no major breakdowns or cast changes due to inability on the part of the singers, but it was a simulacrum of Wagner rather than a Bayreuth certified Parsifal.

Making his Lyric Opera debut in the marathon like role of Gurnemanz is bass, Kwangchul Youn. Mr. Youn's voice has a beautiful, deep, and rich tone which has no problem carrying over Wagner's expansive orchestral textures, but his vibrato is consistently unsteady and warbly in the middle register up through the passaggio which taints its innate beauty. This is a signature role of his and one of many that he has performed at Bayreuth over the past 17 years. An achievement that carries with it an extremely high expectation which, in my opinion was not present given how ungrounded he sounds. I wondered if this was something new given the fact that Mr. Youn has been singing the heaviest of Bass repertoire throughout his lengthy career, but in listening to older recordings of him, it sounds as if this unsteady vibrato is a signature of his as well.

In the role of the conflicted seducing sorceress, Kundry, is dramatic Mezzo Soprano, Daveda Karanas. Ms. Karanas possesses a bright and brilliant sound that, for me lacked the depth of color needed for this role. Ms. Karanas who is still at the beginning of an international career sounded a bit immature for a role that would better suited for her later on. Her voice was uneasy and strained in the top of her range, especially when having to be heard over Wagner's wall of sound. In all honesty I do prefer a  mezzo voice similar to that of Waltraud Meier, although she too, had difficulty in the upper range of this role.

 Playing the titular role of Parsifal was tenor, Paul Groves. When I first read the brochure for the 2013-14 Lyric opera season last winter, I was surprised to see that Mr. Groves was going to be singing Wagner, as I remembered him to be more on the Lyric side. After hearing him in this role on opening night, my initial thoughts were confirmed. Mr. Groves has a lovely voice with a beautiful tone, but it is a suit that is not tailored to his abilities. His voice has difficulty battling the huge orchestra and for the most part could barely be heard when singing in his upper register. Once again his voice is beautifully agile, but it does not have the qualities and size even for a lighter Wagnerian role such as Parsifal.

  World renowned baritone, Thomas Hampson sang the role of the wounded King, Amfortas. Much like the wound in Amfortas' side, it pains me to express the following. Mr. Hampson's performance was for the most part, well executed vocally, with some difficulty in forte sections, which may have been due to the fact that his voice (not to sound like a broken record) does not carry the size needed for Wagner, even though Amfortas is not necessarily a huge role,  in weight and scope. Another contributing factor may be with the fact that Mr. Hampson comes across as extremely focused on the dramatic side of his performance which takes away vocally. There were times when the character's affliction seemed to effect Mr. Hampson's singing, as he sounded strained when faced with the task of projecting over the orchestra in his upper range. In the end, I enjoyed his interpretation and I must say, that it is awfully difficult to not like Mr. Hampson performances. Call it an eternal affliction if you will.

In my humble opinion, there were two "Wagnerian" ready singers in the cast and Tómas Tómasson who sang the role of Klingsor was one of them. Unfortunately he was the only one that encompassed every aspect of what a Wagnerian performance should display. His voice projected nicely and his singing adhered to the style needed for the role of the evil King.

 Runi Brattaberg in his Lyric debut, sang the role of Amfortas' father, Titurel. It is a small part, but once again, Mr. Brattaberg's tone was lacking in depth which didn't help projecting in to the large opera house. His tone was insecure and warbly which begs the question; What is a Wagnerian sound in the 21st century?

  The singers who comprised the Flower-maidens sounded beautiful and had wonderful blend with each other. The music in the 2nd Act when the Flower maidens appear adds a wonderful layer to Wagner the composer. When one thinks of Wagner, a French horn or a horned helmet comes to mind. What's interesting is that the music in this section, although complex and thick in texture, remains light and melodic emphasized by the voices it was composed for. Once again, the singers who made up the Flower maidens did a wonderful job. Additionally, the staging of the scene literally brought out the colors and feel of the music as well as the drama depicted in the story of Parsifal meeting "Flower Maidens" in a garden after having defeated their lovers in battle.


  The Lyric Opera Chorus was wonderful, especially the virile sound of the men in the 1st Act. As was the case in Lyric's production of Otello, the director had the chorus off stage in a few sections, which left me wanting as they were  at times covered up  by the large orchestra.

   Sir Andrew Davis, no stranger to conducting at the Civic Opera House, was at the helm once again which made the orchestral interpretation all the more disappointing. The ensemble itself sounded wonderful, but I felt that Wagner was left to conduct the piece himself, while Sir Davis was, how shall I put it...
...administering communion.  
  Anyone familiar with Wagner knows that it's going to be a long night. All the more reason to use those orchestral moments to bring out the dramatic subtext as Wagner intended. There were so many missed opportunities in dynamic shading alone, it was as if, Sir Davis thought that the sounds swelled on their own. In Act 3, we see an unknown knight appear on stage. Wagner gives us the dramatic tension as long as the conductor gets the orchestra to  create it with a sforzando/mp that crescendos and back again into a diminuendo as we, the audience question what is to come next. I feltas though I ordered a decadent 3 scoop hot fudge sundae, only for Sir Andrew Davis to bring out a scoop of vanilla ice cream. The best vanilla ice cream I've had in a long time, but still only vanilla ice cream.

 
I thoroughly enjoyed the sparse staging of John Caird and design of Johan Engels & Duane Schuler. They did less when there were more bodies of stage and more with few. The dull green scape of Act I set the tone which then gave way to the spectacular brightness of Act 2 with the Flower Maidens which I felt did great justice to Wagner's music. The evil Kingdom of Klingsor was a mixture of the famous Bayreuth stagings of Tristan & Isolde of the 60's fused with modern touches and classical theater representation. It was dramatic in its visual presentation without overshadowing the fact that opera is first and foremost an aural medium.

If one truly wants a strong idea of what this opera may have been intended to sound like, after hearing the Lyric Opera's production, I would suggest listening to the 1962 recording at the Bayreuth Festspielhaus for which is was composed with true Wagnerian singers conducted by Hans Knappertsbusch, who incidentally worked with Richard Wagner's son, Siegfried, at Bayreuth.