POVERA BUTTERFLY

Ana Maria Martinez and Joshua Guerrero in the final scene of Madama Butterfly at the Santa Fe Opera
(photo by Ken Howard for Santa Fe Opera)

We have been known to get a bit moist in the eye at the opera, but the last time we were reduced to bawling like a baby was in 2010 when Santa Fe Opera mounted Lee Blakeley's production  of Madama Butterfly. The tall and handsome tenor Brandon Jovanovich towered over the tiny soprano Kelly Kaduce, emphasizing the total imbalance of power in this exploitative relationship between an arrogant American naval lieutenant and an innocent and deluded 15-year-old Japanese geisha. Last night we saw a revival of this production, astutely directed by Matthew Ozawa and we completely "lost it".

With eight years of additional opera going experience, we realized that it was not only the terrific performances that produced such grief but Puccini's music, so affectingly played by the Santa Fe Orchestra under the baton of Maestro John Fiore. The program indicates that we are seeing the Brescia version but we thought we were hearing Puccini's original 1904 version, the La Scala premiere of which was considered so unsuccessful that Puccini revised the opera in many respects. Indeed, there are five iterations extant, but this one is, in our opinion, the most powerful.

Librettists Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa pulled no punches in their depiction of an arrogant sexist American lieutenant, here performed by tenor Joshua Guerrero. He made his character so loathsome that he was booed at the curtain call. There was no doubt that it was the character being booed, and not the performance, which was marked by fine Italianate phrasing and topnotch acting. His "Addio, fiorito asil" was gorgeously sung; if it was meant to evoke sympathy for his remorse, it failed. This character is totally involved with himself and his own feelings with little concern for his abandoned bride.

The role of Cio-Cio-San was magnificently performed by soprano Ana Maria Martinez whose "Un bel di vedremo" deserved all the applause it received. Ms. Martinez is not all that shorter than Mr. Guerrero; nonetheless, her acting achieved the same result as in the benchmark performance that affected us so greatly eight years ago. Some interesting directorial touches evoked the thought that Butterfly's suicide not only represented "death with honor" but also could be perceived as an act of anger, what with all the violently overturned chairs. This amounts to a Westernized psychoanalytic view of suicide. 

Aside from the strength of the depiction of the characters, what makes this version so powerful is the elimination of the intermission between Act II and Act III. Instead, the audience has the opportunity to join Butterfly in the overnight vigil as she waits for Pinkerton. The melancholy "Humming Chorus" sets the stage for our emotional devastation. The feeling of dread mounted in our chest and we felt ourself trembling. The confrontation between Butterfly and the new Mrs. Pinkerton, ably enacted by mezzo-soprano Hannah Hagerty, added to the dread. The sight of little Trouble pointing his dagger at Pinkerton next to the body of his dead mother was one of the most chilling sights we have seen at the opera. His future seems like one more aspect of the tragedy.

Baritone Nicholas Pallesen had the good fortune to portray the wise and kindly U.S. Consul Sharpless. His voice was splendid and his dramatic portrayal was filled with appropriate gesture. The poor man was unable to convince Pinkerton to behave better; nor was he able to reason with Butterfly. We completely believed him in the role.

The other realist of the evening was Suzuki, Butterfly's servant, performed to perfection by the excellent mezzo-soprano Megan Marino. Suzuki knows the score but cannot get Butterfly to face reality. Her loyalty is above reproach and she endures a bit of abuse from the angry Butterfly.

Another powerful performance was that of the angry Bonze, realized by bass Soloman Howard who commanded the stage. Tenor Matthew DiBattista made a very slimy Goro. Baritone Kenneth Stavert played the role of Prince Yamadori without the customary excess of foolishness; this was a fine idea because it emphasized the idea that Butterfly's rejection was based upon her delusion that Pinkerton would return and resume their marriage, not on the idea that Yamadori was a poor choice.

We were delighted to see other Apprentice Singers onstage. Bass-baritone Erik van Heyningen made an excellent Imperial Commissioner, and bass Colin Ramsey was equally fine as the Registrar, both of whom officiated at the marriage. 

Maestro Fiore's conducting presented the music we know and love, along with some music that had been cut when Puccini revised the opera. Puccini successfully combined lyrical Western melodies with Asian folks songs. The chorus, under the direction of Susanne Sheston, sang beautifully and intelligibly, even when offstage.

The set design by Jean-Marc Puissant gave us every possible Japanese signifier including cherry blossoms, lanterns, and shoji panels for Butterfly's home. During the overture, the house itself took shape as panels were carried on and installed. The audience could readily grasp the theme of impermanence. We noticed that the interval of three years was marked by some modernization by way of utility poles with electrical lines. The 20th c. had arrived.

We always have a small quibble and here it has to do with the lighting design of Rick Fisher who missed the chance to show the dawn of which Suzuki sings. The sky never brightened. But the street lights did turn off.

Brigitte Reiffenstuel's costume design was traditional.

This is the Madama Butterfly that we will remember and cherish.  We hope we will not have to wait another eight years to see it again.

(c) meche kroop

OUR HEARTS ILLUMINATED!

 "The Illuminated Heart"--Selections from Mozart's opera performed at the 50th Anniversary of Mostly Mozart

Not even the rainy weather could dampen the spirits of the glittery members of the sell-out crowd gathered to celebrate the opening-night program of Mostly Mozart, Manhattan's yearly summertime orgy of music-making.  It was an auspicious beginning with a veritable cornucopia of talent onstage and a conducting genius in the pit.

Maestro Louis Langrée got the evening off to a rousing start with the lively overture to Le nozze di Figaro, inarguably one of Mozart's best operas, although even his less wonderful offerings will never be neglected. Onstage, we had a servant girl doing chores, tossing laundry into a basket in time with the chords--a most effective bit of stagecraft. She wiped the walls on which words were projected; as she did so the words disappeared. This was probably the finest moment for the visuals.

Mozart was a master of melody and a champion of characterization. A great artist can sing one of his arias and, in a holographic miracle, the entire opera takes shape before your very eyes. There was no shortage of great artists onstage last night.

Capturing our heart was soprano Nadine Sierra for whom we have a special fondness, having started reviewing her work when she was considered "promising". Her promise has been fulfilled. She delights the ear with her silvery soprano and involves one with the inner life of the character she portrays.

As Susanna in Le nozze di Figaro, deceitfully promising Count Almaviva her sexual favors, there was no doubt in how she felt about her employer and his unwelcome advances. When he pulled her onto his lap, you could just tell that she was physically aware of his arousal (to put it delicately). Her scene partner, baritone Peter Mattei, conveyed all the blindness and feelings of entitlement that Lorenzo Da Ponte intended in the brilliant duet "Crudel! Perchè finora".

Ms. Sierra was brilliant in every role-- but the role which totally blew us away was one we'd never heard before from an opera which Mozart never finished. We were so enthralled by "Ruhe sanft, mein holdes Leben" from Zaide that we longed to see Ms. Sierra perform the role in its entirety; we were sad to learn that only parts of it survive.  So...a superb concert piece it will remain. Ms. Sierra produced such a finely wrought decrescendo that we held our breath.

Soprano Christine Goerke blew us away in another manner.  She is a veritable force of nature and sang Elettra's aria of rage "O smania! O furie! ...D'Oreste, d'Aiace" from Idomeneo. Her steely soprano cuts through an orchestra like a knife through butter and swells to fill the farthest reaches of any theater. Her emotional commitment drags you into the aria and all its pain.

A fine showing was made by soprano Anna Maria Martinez and mezzo-soprano Daniela Mack as sisters Fiordiligi and Dorabella in Cosi fan tutte; their voices blended beautifully in Mozartean thirds in "Ah, guarda sorella" and later, with Mr. Mattei as Don Alfonso, in "Soave sia il vento".

Ms. Martinez was riveting as Donna Elvira in "In quali eccessi, o Numi...Mi tradi quell'alma ingrata" from Don Giovanni. We loved the way she colored each section differently as she went through all the emotions of a woman scorned by a man she can't stop loving.

When mezzo-soprano Marianne Crebassa sang "Parto, parto, ma tu, ben mio" from La clemenza di Tito we realized that one may readily think of it as a duet with clarinet. Jon Manasse's clarinet echoed the vocal line in such an artistic fashion we wondered why we had never heard it so clearly before. Ms. Crebassa also did credit to herself in a duet with Ms. Sierra from the same opera--"Ah perdona al primo affetto".
  
As a matter of fact, there was much in Maestro Langrées conducting that brought new clarity to old favorites.  It was also admirable the way he controlled his Mostly Mozart Festival Orchestra so that they supported each singer.  No one was drowned out.

A rewarding performance of the difficult "Dalla sua pace" from Don Giovanni was given by Matthew Polenzani; he was at the very top of his form both vocally and dramatically. The phrasing, the coloring, and the timbre joined with his tasteful gestures to create a picture of a man besotted and submissive to his adoration of the ambivalent Donna Anna.

Only baritone Christopher Maltman failed to impress with a somewhat lackluster "Champagne Aria" from Don Giovanni and a charmless "Der Vogelfänger bin ich ja" from Die Zauberflöte.

These were just the highlights of the evening which ended with the Finale of Le nozze di Figaro--bringing us back full circle.

As much as our heart was illuminated, the faces of the singers were not. We wish we could be as enthusiastic about the direction, design, and illuminations of Netia Jones or the lighting of Andrew Hill-- but we cannot.

On the positive side, there were some charming moments of direction that were dramatically valid. Projections succeeded at creating the illusion of depth in the hall's shallow stage; costumes effectively suggested 18th c. silhouettes while highlighting the cut and fabrics of contemporary times. But many of the projections were weak or non-specific, or unsupported by the story.  If mixed media is going to replace sets then it had better be more effective.

Happily, that minor disappointment did nothing to tarnish the luster of the voices. After an intermissionless 90 minutes, we left fulfilled.  But we would have gladly returned for another 90!

(c) meche kroop

CARMEN

Ana Maria Martinez and Roberto De Blasio (photo by Ken Howard)

The current trend in opera is "concept".  Directors are falling all over themselves trying to make opera relevant, changing locations, changing time periods, doing all kinds of things to attract new audiences.  We are not among those that appreciate this trend.  Occasionally this fiddling works but more often than not the audience is left baffled.  Such was the case last night at the Santa Fe Opera's Carmen; Bizet's masterpiece was updated to mid-20th c. and moved to somewhere on the Mexican-American border, although that was only revealed piecemeal. The time is ripe for an opera about illegal immigration and the plight of Mexicans but grafting that concept onto an opera that we adore in its original time and place seemed ill-advised.

Bizet's music trumps everything else and if you closed your eyes and listened to Rory Macdonald's apt conducting of the Santa Fe Opera Orchestra, you might have had a fine time.  With your eyes open, you might have expected to be in Spain with vintage black and white films of bullfights projected onto the set.  The picture of the dead bull might have made you wonder if this was meant to be symbolic of Don Jose's stabbing of Carmen in the final scene. Interestingly enough, that scene does take place in an arena-like area.  But why was Carmen trying to escape through locked doors when she was resigned to dying?

Many other inconsistencies and questions about Stephen Lawless' direction distracted us from enjoying the music.  Why were the girls of the tobacco factory behind bars?  They were dressed in identical uniforms so one wondered whether they were meant to be in prison and given time in the yard for a smoking break.  Why was Escamillo's entrance so tacky, passed out on a mechanical bull?  Why was Micaela standing on the American side of a chain-link fence?  We could go on and on about the inconsistencies and ill-conceived ideas.

Carmen is not just a factory-worker (if that is even true) but she and Frasquita and Mercedes don wildly colorful costumes (by Jorge Jara) as onstage entertainers in Lilas Pastias' tavern while the customers dance the lindy to Bizet's music!  There is more coke-snorting than we would ever want to see onstage-- to no meaningful effect.  Were the smugglers smuggling drugs or were they smuggling "wetbacks".  Why are the "wetbacks" pushing the truck right up to the Border Patrol?  Did we need to see a trashy hooker distracting the border guard so a few illegal immigrants could climb the chain-link fence?

Well, let us move on to what we did like about the production.  Most of the video projections by Jon Driscoll served to open up the story in a cinematic way.  The scene of Micaela tending to Don Jose's critically ill mother gave us some insight into their relationship.  The scene of Micaela and Don Jose attending his mother's funeral showed us that Micaela still had some affection for him; she made sidelong glances meaningful.

Benoit Dugardyn's set design was simple enough not to interfere and was flexible enough to create the soldier's locker room, a prison, a bullfight arena, ramparts and a background for projections.  Pat Collins' lighting was sometimes effective,  creating shadows that highlighted the action; at other times the light fell in the wrong place and the action was cast into darkness.

As Carmen, soprano Ana Maria Martinez created a character that had very little by way of redeeming qualities.  Perhaps it is only that we prefer the role to be sung by a mezzo-soprano but her voice seemed uneven through the wide range Bizet wrote; her voice improved as the evening wore on.       Her acting was forceful but appeared to be based on something that she or the director considered to be sexy. The sexiness did not seem to come from within but rather was based on gyrations and cliched mannerism. 

Tenor Roberto de Biasio also got off to a weak start but improved vocally in the second act. He produced a fine messa di voce.  However, his acting was stiff until he reached places where he was given over to violence.  Baritone Kostas Smoriginas struggled to achieve some dignity and the arrogance the role requires; the direction was not kind to him, what with that mechanical bull and having to hold a microphone onstage and gyrate like Elvis Presley.

We liked Joyce El-Khoury's performance as Micaela; she has an expressive soprano and managed to evoke sympathy which the other principals did not.  Her duet with Don Jose was tender and their hands reaching out toward one another was perhaps the most moving moment of the evening.

The smaller roles were more effective.  Bass-baritone Evan Hughes was outstanding as Zuniga, using his booming voice, imposing height and dramatic skills to create a more interesting character than we are accustomed to.  He too has his eye on Carmen and, by the time his pants are around his ankles in her prison cell,  she has escaped.

Baritone Ricardo Rivera was a strong Morales, also making much of a role that usually makes no impression.

We liked baritone Dan Kempson as Le Dancaire and tenor Noah Baetge as Le Remendado, the two smugglers.  It was amusing to watch their interaction with Carmen's two friends Frasquita (soprano Amanda Opuszynski) and Mercedes (mezzo-soprano Sarah Larsen).  Grant Neale made a slimy Lillas Pastia.

Before ending. we would like to contribute this factoid.  In Mexican bullfights, they do not kill the bull.

(c) meche kroop