A FORGOTTEN MASTERPIECE DISCOVERED

Maestro Israel Gursky and the cast of Vittorio Gnecchi's Cassandra

If ever a neglected work merited unearthing Vittorio Gnecchi's Cassandra fills the bill. Thanks to the efforts of Teatro Trattacielo's Founding Executive and Artistic Director Duane D. Printz, New York City's dedicated opera lovers had the opportunity to hear this work in concert form at the highly suitable Gerald W. Lynch Theater at John Jay College of Criminal Justice (part of CUNY).

There was a crime of sorts in the suppression of this magnificent work, the result of a scandal of plagiarism in which those taking the part of Richard Strauss (but not Strauss himself) accused Gnecchi of plagiarizing his 1908 Elektra, in spite of the fact that Cassandra premiered in Bologna in 1905! Significantly, Toscanini himself conducted the premiere. Italian musical politics were really something! They still are.

Luigi Illica's libretto was adapted from Aeschylus' Oresteia and deals with the part of the story of the fall of the House of Atreus in which Agamemnon returns as a hero from the Trojan war, bringing as concubine the seeress Cassandra.  

In Agamemnon's absence, Clytemnestra has been frolicking with her husband's brother Aegisthus. She apparently truly loves her brother-in-law but is also seeking revenge against her husband who had sacrificed their beloved daughter Iphegenia to secure favorable winds to carry him to Troy to fetch the naughty Helen who had run off with Paris.  Sounds like a telenovela, right?

As in Puccini's Turandot (of which we heard echoes in the music), the titular character does not appear until Act II. But she is worth waiting for! This is a superb role for a mezzo-soprano and Alessandra Volpe fulfilled the task with magnificence and a large dusky sound that made her prophesies poignantly terrifying. Her generous tone cut through the orchestration like a warm knife through butter.

The entire cast was well chosen and there wasn't a disappointing voice in the bunch. Soprano Elena O'Connor made a stunning Clitennestra, showing her character's rage in her first aria "No, non propiziarie preci!". We enjoyed the change of colors when she sang of her love for Egisto.

Her romantic duets with baritone Shea Owens as Egisto involved overlapping voices and thrilling harmonies.  And we loved Mr. Owens' aria "Il Fato volge in suo turbine". When Agamennone returns in triumph the crowd welcomes him but Egisto sneers in "Udir cantare Agamennone, e ridere!"  The subsequent confrontation between the two brothers is powerful and dynamic.

The role of Agamennone is a difficult one and veteran tenor Arnold Rawls tackled the punishingly high tessitura with aplomb. His return to Argolis is marked by the sweetest sound, as if he is totally unaware of the tragedy to come. 

Baritone Stefanos Koroneos has never sounded better than he did singing ll Prologo with superb diction, making every word count and elucidating the story, which is more than we can say for the choruses. The New Jersey Choral Society and The Connecticut Choral Society, along with the Festival Youth Chorus, lay down a lovely carpet of sound but did not have the crisp diction to which we are accustomed.

In several roles, soprano Meredith Mecum made a fine forceful showing with a brilliant tone; we particularly enjoyed her brief solo as Una Coèfora "Placato mare ed aera placato!"  Baritone Joseph Flaxman excelled as Il Fazionario (The Guard). Baritone Peter Kendall Clark came across well as Il Navarca as did Jon Tetelman in a tenor solo. Young Nicholas Newman piped up as the child Orestes, requesting his father's sword.

One could consider the star of the evening to be conductor Israel Gursky who brought out the many nuances of this impressive score.  There is nothing shocking about the chromatic harmonies but there was ample lyricism to satisfy our 19th c. ears. One could identify Puccini-esque elements in the opening Prologue.

The introduction to Act I was particularly lyrical when a lovely melody floated through the sections of the orchestra on gossamer wings. We loved the portentous sound at the end of Clitennestra's rage aria, not to mention the use of the harp when Egisto sings of leaving Clitennestra.

As Agamennone approaches by ship, Maestro Gursky guided the orchestra into a recreation of the surging sea.  Upon his arrival at Argosy the music is triumphant with brass. The orchestra gives us the full monty at the bloody conclusion.

Whew!! This powerful story was given the exactly right music by Signor Gnecchi and the opera was given the exactly right production by Teatro Grattacielo.

It's too bad we must wait another year for more of Grattacielo's discoveries.

(c) meche kroop

JUST A SIMPLE "WORKING GIRL"

Siberia at the turn of the 20th Century

We recently wrote about how a good concert version of an opera can be a very pleasurable experience.  Last night, Teatro Grattacielo's yearly entry in the verismo opera sweepstakes was Umberto Giordano's Siberia, an interesting and mostly satisfying evening for the opera lovers who crowded into the comfortable Gerald Lynch theater at John Jay College. 

This opera premiered at La Scala in 1903 and was not a hit, although it did receive positive notices in Genoa and Paris and reached the New World in 1906 by way of the French Opera House in New Orleans, where so many European operas got their American start.

The libretto is a bit strange (Thanks, Founding Executive and Artistic Director Duane Printz, for a fine translation), not making many issues clear until late in the opera. One would expect more from the fine librettist Luigi Illica who served Giacomo Puccini so well; it is unclear whether the libretto is his original creation or whether he adapted the story from Leo Tolstoy's novel Resurrection.

Perhaps this early 19th c. story might have made more sense to the early 20th c. audience who witnessed it. The tale concerns the beautiful Stephana, mistress of the young Prince Alexis who has furnished her with a beautiful palace and servants and gifts. We do not figure out until much later that the disagreeable Gleby discovered the poor young woman on the streets, recognized her beauty, seduced her, taught her the ropes (so to speak), and sold her to the Prince in exchange for a liberal pension.

It is, of course, in Gleby's interest to ensure her availability to the Prince and he is distressed when she stays out all night. The reason for her failure to live up to her duties is her true love for the soldier Vassili who thinks she is an ordinary working girl of the innocent variety, not the kind of "working girl" she really is.

She has kept her palatial home secret but young Vassili, called to war, comes to the palace to bid farewell to his mother (or so we think) and discovers Stephana who is upset to be found out. Alexis is also upset by Vassili's presence and the two draw swords. Alexis is either wounded or dies.

Vassili is sent to prison in Siberia and Stephana follows him (in a troika and swathed in furs) having given up her glamorous life. This seems to be partly out of love and partly to seek redemption.

Life in Siberia is virtually unendurable but she loves it there because of her love for Vassili and a renewed sense of purity she feels.  But the lovers plan to escape and are caught, perhaps because the jealous Gleby has also arrived at the prison and rats her out (or so we think). She is shot and dies (happily) in Vassili's arms.

Undoubtedly, the libretto could have been more clearly written. Nonetheless, the music is gorgeously orchestrated and was superbly sung by a really good cast. The deservedly famous tenor Raul Melo sang with clear ringing tone and high passion. Stephana was gloriously sung by soprano Marie Masters whose star is on the rise. The strange and undeveloped character of Stephana was effectively filled in by this fine young artist.

Highly impressive as the slimy Gleby was baritone Daniel Ihn-Kyu Lee who injected 57 varieties of sliminess into his superb voice, creating an unforgettable villain. We enjoyed mezzo-soprano Jessica Grigg as Nikona, Stephana's anxious servant, and soprano Megan Monaghan in a small role as a woman looking for her father in Siberia.

Baritone Joseph Flaxman excelled in two roles: as a banker in the service of the Prince, and later as an old man who wants to help Stephana escape. Tenor Scott Joiner was the servant Ivan and later The Cossack; tenor Wesley Morgan portrayed Prince Alexis and later portrayed The Sergeant, bass Damian Savarino was Walinoff, also in the Prince's retinue and later, The Inspector.

In the Siberian  part of the opera we would meet The Captain (bass-baritone Sean Cooper), who also portrayed The Governor with appropriate stentorian sound. All the parts seemed well cast and excellently sung.

And what about the music? What made the strongest impression melodically was the "Song of the Volga Boatmen".  This is a traditional Russian song, collected by Balakirev and published in 1866; it has been appropriated by composers of many nationalities and here was most effective in expressing the despair of the Russian peasants in pre-Revolutionary Russia. It is heard many times in the course of the opera. The Cantori New York Chorus did well by it, under the direction of Mark Shapiro.

Conductor Israel Gursky commanded The Teatro Grattacielo Orchestra who did justice to Giordano's  colorful orchestration. When Vassili describes the living conditions in Siberia, the orchestra tells as much as the words. For example, the woodwinds do a great job of illustrating the "unrelenting winds". And a tuba lets us know about the howl of the wolves. (It was at this point that we decided that Siberia does not need to be on our "bucket list").

On the Sunday of Russian Easter in Act III, the chimes and the sextet of mandolins (YES!) took us right where we needed to be. 

There were few arias as set pieces, but Stephana's Act III aria "Qual vergogna tu porti", directed at Gleby, gave her a chance to open up her generous instrument and shine with a variety of emotions. Mr. Lee's high point followed shortly thereafter in "La connobbi quand'era fanciulla" when we finally learn about the origins of their relationship, or his interpretation thereof.

Melo's best moment was in "Stephana!..Dio!" in Act II when she arrives in Siberia. The pair also have a lovely romantic duet.

We only get these treats once a year, generally in October. Most of the luminaries of Planet Opera were in attendance and post-opera conversation was stimulating. 

(c) meche kroop

SAKÙNTALA

It is likely that few of us have ever heard Franco Alfano's 1921 Sakùntala, although there are a couple recordings extant.  Likewise, you will probably not get an opportunity in the future.  But thanks to Duane D. Printz, Founding Executive and Artistic Director of Teatro Grattacielo, a significant number of us opera fanatics got the chance to hear it last night in concert version at the Skirball Center of NYU.  And concert version was definitely the way to go, since Mr. Alfano's libretto, based on a 4th c. Sanskrit play, is rather silly by 21st c. standards, and lacking in dramatic action.  A King, while on a hunt, runs into the beautiful protectress of a hermitage, the eponymous heroine.  He falls in love with her, woos her, marries her, impregnates her and then abandons her.  She is too depressed to fulfill her duties and is cursed by an old priest, so that when she takes herself to court her husband fails to recognize her and she drowns herself.  Those early 20th c. heroines lacked our 21st c. self-preservation skills that has us gals just writing off the bums and moving on!

OK, the plot is scanty but oh, the music!  Gorgeous shimmering textures are used to convey the exoticism of the locale and Maestro Israel Gursky conducted the massive orchestral forces at his disposal with great aplomb.  But these massive orchestral forces tended occasionally to overwhelm the singers who at times struggled to be heard; this lead to an occasional forced sound, especially in the upper registers, particularly at moments of maximum emotionalism.  Tenor Raul Melo did his best to rise above the huge waves of sound but sometimes sank below the waves.  The high tessitura likewise offered challenges to soprano Michelle Johnson in the titular role, leaving scant room for the subtlety and variety of color of which she is capable.

Sakùntala's friends were sung by soprano Asako Tamura and mezzo-soprano Shirin Eskandani whose rich voice provided the biggest thrills of the evening, not to mention applause that sounded as loud as the orchestra.  It appeared that the lower voices succeeded better in every case.  Three basses handled their vocal duties well: Ashraf Sewailam in the role of the priest Durvasas , Damian Savarino as Harita, one of the ascetics and Young Bok Kim as Sakùntala's father.  Baritone Peter Kendall Clark distinguished himself as the King's Equerry.  Tenor Kirk Dougherty sang the role of the young hermit who seemed to be the sidekick of Harita.

We overheard a few members of the audience saying that they refused to follow the libretto, which had been beautifully translated by Ms. Printz herself, and just closed their eyes and listened to the glorious music. One audience member has both recordings of the opera and counts it as a masterpiece of realismo. That the opera was produced on the radio comes as no surprise.  We were grateful to have an opportunity to hear this rarity.

© meche kroop