EARLY STRAUSS

 Maestro Leon Botstein congratulates soprano Angela Meade

 

In yesterday's discussion of the various forms of opera available to New Yorkers, we neglected to mention a most important one--that of the concert presentation as exemplified by the American Symphony Orchestra as well as New Amsterdam Opera. As a matter of fact, our first exposure to opera came through Eve Queler's Opera Orchestra of New York. We recall sitting up in the 4th balcony, following along with the libretto and forming our taste in opera.

There are benefits and drawbacks to concert presentations of operas. There are rarely titles and following along with the libretto, as our companion did, may help you identify the characters and appreciate the linguistic and diction skills of each individual singer. However, it also deprives you of the opportunity to focus on the music and the voices. In the context of a staged opera there is plenty of drama and characterization to focus on as one can observe body movement in service of those aspects. Sadly, this is missing in a concert presentation.

Last night, at American Symphony Orchestra's concert production of Richard Strauss' first opera Guntram, for which the composer wrote his own libretto, we chose to focus on the aural experience. Given our lack of familiarity with the rather inert story we were happy to focus on the orchestral writing until a bit of singing captivated our ear.

After Guntram's modest success in 1894 in Weimar, it flopped in Munich the following year and was forgotten until recently. Musicologists blame its lack of success on its purported similarity to Wagner's opus. Indeed, perhaps the music world had heard enough about Medieval minnesingers, sin, and redemption. Although we have never thrilled to Parsifal and Tannhaüser, we have experienced no end of delight from Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg with its more captivating story.

We very much enjoyed Strauss' orchestral writing for Guntram and if there were echoes of Wagner, they were of Wagnerian innovations that we favor. We particularly enjoyed the opening leitmotiv that reappeared in various forms throughout the opera, a rhythmically memorable descending pattern that Strauss renewed throughout the work in different keys, providing unity to the work.

The orchestral writing was indeed lavish and lavishly orchestrated. Had it been a symphony we would not have missed the voices. However, it was an opera and there were voices, all of them at least serviceable but often thrilling. In the only opera Strauss wrote with the male role as  the most important, we must say that it was soprano Angela Meade who ran away with the honors. 

Entering the stage in a gilded gown, she appeared like the Greek god Helios, drawing his golden chariot across the sky. Her voice, similarly, seems a gift from the gods--strong and gleaming when called for yet tender in the final love scene with the eponymous Guntram, sung by tenor John Matthew Myers. The role of Guntram is extremely demanding with long arias in each of three acts. Prior to the final scene we found Mr. Myers'  voice somewhat irritating and forced in the upper registers, although far more agreeable in the middle and lower ranges. (The mighty Strauss orchestra, conducted by Maestro Leon Botstein, is rather a beast to be heard over but Ms. Meade's steely soprano cut right through the dense orchestration.)  However, we must admit that in the final scene of love and renunciation, Mr. Myers' voice sounded much more musical, perhaps inspired by the tenderness of the love he felt compelled to renounce.  Or perhaps, he had just been saving himself for the end.

Bass-baritone Kevin Short sang the role of Freihild's father, the Old Duke, and impressed with his deep resonance. As the wicked Duke Robert we heard baritone Alexander Birch Elliott, as unpleasant a character as one might imagine. Indeed, the opera begins with his wife Freihild running toward the lake to drown herself and one could truly understand why.

As we learned from reading the synopsis, Freihild and Guntram are birds of a feather whose mutual empathy is understandable. Too bad that Guntram kills Robert and decides to spend the rest of his life in solitary atonement--not because he murdered but because he "sinned in his heart" by loving a married woman!  Perhaps there are some out there who might find this story worthy of a staged production but we do not.

Aside from the final scene of love and renunciation, there were a few vocal moments that took our attention away from the instrumentals. One was a chorus of four men whose voices combined and intertwined in the most delicious harmonies. Unfortunately, since we were not following along with the libretto, we are unable to identify them. Nor are we able to identify a male singer who came on for a brief aria on stage right and sang with beautiful clarity of tone. If you were there and can say who the singer was, please leave a comment below.

Mezzo-soprano Katherine Goeldner put in a brief appearance in Act I as an old woman with tenor Bernard Holcomb as an old man. Bass-baritone Nate Mattingly sang the role of Friedhold. 

Thanks to the American Symphony Orchestra for giving us this opportunity to hear some gorgeous orchestral writing and for giving us the gift of Ms. Meade. We wouldn't have missed it for the world!

© meche kroop

ZEMLINSKYS ZIMMER

Michael Boley, Mary-Hollis Hundley, and Eric McKeever

(photo by Philip Schneidman)

There seems to be a number of options available to opera goers in New York City. We have selections from the canon given lavish productions by the Metropolitan Opera and beloved standards given bare bones productions by an ever diminishing number of scrappy companies like Amore Opera. There is a slow stream of contemporary works with polemic subjects and non-musical music that no one ever cares to revisit as well as exciting productions of newly discovered works from the 18th and 19th century (by Lafayette Opera and Teatro Nuovo respectively). There are the daring companies like Heartbeat Opera that put original spins on the classics, and finally companies that bring to light some rather odd pieces that merit a hearing.

Of course we are speaking of Little Opera Theater of New York, known as LOTNY, which has just brought a rarity to light at The Fisher Center of The Brooklyn Academy of Music. We were pleased to attend opening night of Zemlinskys Zimmer and found much to enjoy--some fine singing in well-enunciated German, an excellent chamber orchestra that gave an admirable reading of Roland Freisitzer's reduction of the Zemlinsky score, and some gorgeous colorful projections by Kylee Loera.

The cultural scene of fin de siècle Vienna was responsible for a number of innovations in the visual and performing arts as well as some socio-sexual experimentation.  One has only to think of the wild adventures of Alma Schindler who threw aside composer/conductor Alexander Zemlinsky for composer/conductor Gustav Mahler, whom she also threw aside for a succession of lovers. One might speculate that Zemlinsky's choice of Oscar Wilde's unfinished play A Florentine Tragedy  (translated into German by Max Meyerfeld) as a subject for the opera we saw last night was based on his experience with the faithless Alma.

The story involves a woman named Bianca (how ironic!) who entertains a nobleman named Prinz Guido Bardi right under the nose of her merchant husband Simone. As directed by Philip Schneidman, the lustful lovers exercise minimal restraint in hiding their feeling. Simone (baritone Eric McKeever) plays a cat-and-mouse game with the Prince (tenor Michael Boley) and Bianca (soprano Mary-Hollis Hundley) who appear to ignore the warning signs of the rage behind Simone's obsequious behavior. The evening ends in a duel and a strangling of the Prince, after which Bianca fawns over her previously despised and disparaged husband. One imagines that Zemlinsky might have wished to strangle Mahler! One wonders whether Mahler and Alma were present at a performance.  Now that would have made a fine opera!

The three cast members are to be complimented on their fine singing as well as their not-so-subtle acting. The adulterous story was prefaced by the lovely Ms. Hundley reclining on a chaise longue, apparently awakening from a dream and singing Zemlinsky's luscious setting of Richard Dehmel's "Maiblumen blühten überall" against that afore-mentioned projected background reminiscent of visual arts of that period. 

This was followed by Mr. Boley  performing "Liebe Schwalbe" from Walzer Gasänge Op. 6,  a setting of text by Ferdinand Gregorovius. It seemed a marvelous opportunity to get acquainted with works by a composer who was quite famous in his time but whose light diminished when he fled the Nazis and wound up in New York.

Costumes by Lara Bruijn were a propos, as were the garments Simone brought out for the Prince to wear. Only one element stood out in a jarring way and that was the black corset worn by Bianca. We thought it should have been white like the other undergarments.

Now what about the score!  Stage left held most of the musicians; strings were joined by sufficient winds to provide color, including flute, clarinets, oboe, horns, trumpet, and trombone. On stage right, thrillingly right under our nose, were a celeste, a piano, and some exciting percussionists. Concertmaster was Stani Dimitrova and Maestro Tiffany Chang brought it all together, filling the space (comprising blessedly raked seating) with thrilling sound.

We will also mention that the titles by Dalia Sevilla were not the ordinary barely legible afterthoughts but made a part of the projections which also did a fine job of establishing time and place.

© meche kroop