MIRACLES OF LOVE/DEATH

 

Ausrine Stundyte and Daniel Brenna in Erich Korngold's Das Wunder der Heliane
(Photo by Stephanie Berger)

It seems to be a miracle when an opera lays dormant for nearly a century and finally makes it to the stage. For such miracles we count on Maestro Leon Botstein who has made it his mission to bring works out of the dark and into the light for his summer adventure Bard Summerscape. We make it our business to make the lengthy bus trip up to Annandale-on-the-Hudson at least once each year. Sometimes we are thrilled; sometimes we are not.

Erich Wolfgang Korngold was a child prodigy in his native Germany and achieved success as a teenager. Die tote Stadt is oft performed and remains famous for two arias--"Marietta's Lied" and "Pierrots Tanzlied". His Das Wunder der Heliane premiered in 1927 and met with critical disdain although several members of the opera community heaped high praise on the work.

Due to Nazi suppression, the work fell into obscurity until recently and last night was its American premiere which we did not want to miss. The work is famous primarily for the aria "Ich ging zu ihm" which one can hear on YouTube sung by Renée Fleming and by Lotte Lehmann. Take your pick. Listen to both.

The story is a strange one with the libretto written by Hans Müller-Einigen. A totalitarian ruler is bitter over his unconsummated marriage with Heliane. He is  also disturbed by a messianic stranger who has brought joy to the repressed populace. He wants the stranger dead.

Heliane goes to comfort him on his last night on earth and becomes captivated by him. She grants him the favors he requests--to show her hair, her bare feet, and her body. She refuses him lovemaking.

The ruler is infuriated and wants them both dead. There is a trial in which Heliane can prove her chastity by raising the stranger from death. She does but there is a lot of stabbing and shifting responses by the populace. It was difficult to determine what exactly happened at the end but perhaps the couple found love on another plane.

The music has been described as lush and romantic; we found it muscular and dissonant. There is no denying that the music is "interesting" and Maestro Botstein succeeded in bringing out the details of the colorful orchestration. We heard lots of Straussian influence. There were pockets of lyricism which we did enjoy, especially when the harp added its voice. Perhaps it takes several hearings of the score to get "friendly" with this type of music. It is not instantly relatable.

In the titular role, soprano Ausrine Stundyte looked as fine as she sounded and was as convincingly innocent as one could hope for. As The Ruler, bass-baritone Alfred Walker gave his customarily fine performance, singing with rich resonant tone and creating a brutal tyrant.  Heldentenor Daniel Brenna pushed his voice in the upper register and failed to create a compelling figure onstage, i.e. someone who could beguile a populace. As in Siegfried, the role would seem to beg for a sweet-voice lyric tenor who could never be heard over the densely textured orchestration!  A real Catch-22.

We have always liked mezzo-soprano Jennifer Feinstein who created a very nasty and vengeful Messenger.  Tenor David Cangelosi was excellent as The Blind Judge who turns out to be Heliane's father. Bass-baritone Nicholas Brownlee made a fine impression as The Porter.

The other judges at the trial, rather peculiarly costumed, comprised Nathan Berg, Scott Conner, Michael J. Hawk, Derek Taylor, Kevin Thompson, and Richard Troxell.

Stage Director Christian Räth had his work cut out for him, making sense of this odd story. Esther Bialas, whose costume design we so admired in the Mostly Mozart Magic Flute, dressed the judges in strange red garments with large ruffs around their necks. Heliane looked as innocent as she was meant to look; The Ruler looked as totalitarian as he was meant to look; The Stranger needed something more ethereal or spiritual. Functionaries resembled futuristic airline stewardesses.

Sets were all grey and totalitarian looking with movable towers backed by staircases. Thomas C. Hase's lighting was effective with menacing shadows cast on the rear wall. Under James Bagwell's direction, the chorus sounded fine with beautiful solos from Aine Hakamatsuka and Caroline Miller as Celestial Voices.

Catherine Galasso's choreography was also on the odd side. A "ballet" of the functionaries was just plain ugly with awkward lifts. But Act III opened with a graceful dance for a clutch of women dressed like Heliane who imitated her movements or manipulated her body. We haven't a clue what this was meant to represent but at least it was graceful.

We took a look online at a production from Berlin which was done in contemporary street clothes, making this production look much better.

If 20th c. opera is your thing, there will be four additional performances.

© meche kroop

FALSE DIMITRIJ/TRUE DIMITRIJ

It is the Time of Troubles in Russia--the interregnum between the death of Ivan the Terrible and the establishment of the Romanov Dynasty--at the turn of the 17th c.  One would never know this from the staging of Dvorak's nearly forgotten opera Dimitrij, taking place in the magnificent Fisher Center of Bard College, as part of the annual Bard Summerscape.

The singers sport contemporary attire and the only clue that we are in Russia is the writing on the rear wall of the set which, according to our best source, means "Victory Begins Here". But Director Anne Bogart (significantly, an alumna of Bard College) has written in her program notes that she was thinking of the unsettled time following the dismantling of the Berlin Wall. We would have greatly preferred to experience this story the way Dvorak and librettist Marie Cervinkova-Riegrova intended and to figure out the resonances on our own without being spoon fed.  Frankly, art requires no explanation.  If one needs program notes to explain your thinking, you have failed.

Fortunately, the musical values were exemplary and there was no failure on the part of the American Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Maestro Leon Botstein, who is famous for championing forgotten works.

To see one of Dvorak's ten operas, composed two decades before his famous Rusalka, was a rare opportunity, well worth the six plus hours on a bus. We were not so sure during the overture when the gorgeous music was not trusted but was accompanied by a child running around in circles.  Nor were we terribly thrilled during the static first act which did offer some superb choral writing and served to introduce the characters and their supporters.

Dimitrij arrives with his Polish wife, the noblewoman Marina, and an occupying Polish army intent on getting him on the Russian throne. On the other side we have the boyar Shuisky and Basmanov, followers of Boris Godunov, the death of whom has left the country in a state of chaos. Godunov's daughter Xenia is under the protection of Shuisky. For Dimitrij to access the throne he must be accepted by the widow of Ivan the Terrible, the Tsarina Marfa.

It was not until the successive acts that we were able to appreciate the gifts of the singers. We were thrilled to hear some fine arias and duets that were well worth a second hearing.

 As the eponymous Dimitrij, tenor Clay Hilley demonstrated a strong and clear tenor sound which appeared to be well suited to the heldentenor fach. His dramatic chops were equally sound and he generated sympathy for the character who, according to this version (playing fast and loose with history as opera often does) is unaware that he is not the son of Ivan the Terrible.  Indeed, in this version, he is the son of a peasant who has been raised to believe he is who he claims to be.  This makes it easy for us to sympathize with him.

Soprano Melissa Citro made a beautiful and hateful Marina. Her ample soprano has a steel core and her acting was convincing.  She is sufficiently beautiful to convince us that she would capture Dimitrij's love whilst her portrayal of self-interest, arrogance, and jealous rage were so believable that we were happy to see her dispatched. She behaved in such a way as to alienate the Russian people by refusing to accept the Orthodox faith in favor of her native Catholicism. We hope to see this splendid soprano soon in one of her several Ring Cycles.

As Xenia, soprano Olga Tolkmit used her somewhat smaller but highly focused instrument to convey the ambivalence her character must feel when wooed by the new tsar, who has just turned away from his narcissistic wife. Her petite stature and vocal colors contributed to her vulnerability; her death, ordered by the vengeful Marina, was a terribly tragic moment.

Mezzo-soprano Nora Sourouzian made a marvelous Marfa. Her voice is rich and dense with coloration and she totally convinced us of her inner struggle. She knows that Dimitrij is not her son but she believes his ascension to the throne will be good for Russia and publicly recognizes him as her offspring.  It is only at the end when the Patriarch (played by Peixin Chen with booming bass and imposing stature) asks her to swear on the cross that she collapses in fear of damnation.

We were completely satisfied as well with the performances of baritone Levi Hernandez as Shuisky and bass-baritone Joseph Barron as Basmanov. Under the direction of James Bagwell, the chorus was also fine. We could not have imagined better casting or a better realization of Dvorak's magnificent score. We believe this is the first time the opera has been performed fully staged in the United States.

We only wish the production team had given it a more Russian look and one that was authentic to the period. David Zinn's set was peculiar, looking like a recreation hall in a church. It had to serve as the gates of Moscow, the Kremlin, the tombs, Shuisky's house, and Dimitrij's lodging. The lackluster setting was helped by Brian H. Scott's evocative lighting.

As far as Constance Hoffman's costume design, if she had been told to create costumes of contemporary casual she succeeded, but it appeared as if the cast were told to rummage through their closet for any old thing.  No praise there!

The men just wore suits and ties, making it difficult to tell one from the other without opera glasses.  Only the Patriarch was appropriately costumed, looking just as one might have imagined. Marina's wedding costume went beyond casual contemporary but was neither flattering nor appropriate.

We were grateful that the opera was performed in Czech and loved the way the vocal lines parallelled the sound of the speech. Language coach was Veronique Firkusny. There will be a few additional performances and the opportunity to hear this opera is worth the trip.

We will close with an interesting tidbit reminiscent of the "flap of a butterfly's wing" theory.  The terrible famine in Russia in the early 17th c. which added so greatly to the country's turmoil, was attributed to a climate change wrought by the eruption of a volcano in Peru!

(c) meche kroop

BARD SUMMERSCAPE

Mascagni's IRIS at Bard SummerScape

It took three and a half hours on the bus to arrive at Annandale-on-Hudson, home of the beautiful Bard campus, but the pleasant greenery and dinner at the fashionable Spiegeltent restored our spirits.  The sight of Frank Gehry's Fisher Center dazzled the eye; the interior impressed with its comfort, excellent acoustics and fine sight-lines.

But we came for the music--an opportunity to witness a fully staged production of an important but neglected opera--which is the mission of this summer festival.  Pietro Mascagni was a contemporary of Giacomo Puccini, who was both friend and rival. Best known for his 1890 Cavalleria Rusticana, and his L'Amico Fritz of 1891,  Mascagni premiered Iris (also in Rome) in 1898. If one hoped to hear the gorgeous music for which this composer is remembered, one would not be disappointed. 

A chorus celebrating the Sun opens and closes the work and Chorus Master James Bagwell provided the depth and strength the work called for. Similar encomium can be offered to Maestro Leon Botstein, who led his American Symphony Orchestra in an articulate performance of the gorgeous score.  The singers left absolutely nothing to be desired in their performances.

Talise Trevigne's expansive soprano sailed over the orchestra and was just right for the lead and, like the other artists, she did her best to enact what the director requested, although she did not appear completely comfortable dramatically. Mezzo-soprano Cecilia brought a fine timbre to her role as Geisha and enacted a severe presence. Gerard Schneider's full-throated tenor met all of Mascagni's challenges; we felt sorry for him trying to perform a seduction on a most uncomfortable slab.

Douglas Williams seemed most comfortable onstage and exhibited a fine presence as well as a resonant bass-baritone just right for the role of Kyoto.  As the Blind Father, Matthew Boehler's bass truly delivered and he blundered around onstage in a convincing fashion. Samuel Levine's terrific tenor didn't show up until Act III but sounded just fine.

The flaw lay in the libretto. If one hoped for a cogent story with characters one could relate to, as in Cavalleria Rusticana, one definitely would be disappointed!  Since the Victorian era, Europe was in the grip of le japonisme, a fascination with Japan, a country which had been hidden from Western eyes for a very long time and was seen as a highly exotic place.  Composers from Puccini to Arthur Sullivan dipped their toes in Japanese waters.

It is puzzling that Luigi Illica, who would produce such a compelling libretto for Puccini's Madama Butterfly a few years later, would come up with such a weird and static story for Mascagni. Perhaps for audiences of that epoch, the "racy" story of a woman kidnapped for sexual slavery might have been titillating. In common with Madama Butterfly, we are witnessing the story of innocence despoiled. But Puccini's opera offers us some romance along with a remarkably naïve heroine being taken advantage of by narcissistic men!

Iris (Talise Trvigne) is a young girl living with her blind father (Matthew Boehler). She catches the eye of a wealthy fellow Osaka (Gerard Schneider) who teams up with the brothel keeper Kyoto (Douglas Williams) to trick Iris by means of a puppet play that affects her deeply.

The play is performed by three Geishas (dancers Jasmine Albuquerque, Justine Clark, and Kristen Leahy) and three Samurais (Jordan Isidore, Aaron Burr Johnson, and Sam Shapiro).  Chief "Geisha" (sic) was beautifully performed by Cecelia Hall. The "sic" is because Illica's idea of a geisha as a prostitute was only his fantasy.

In the puppet play, a young woman is abused by her father, sold into sexual slavery, and rescued by a figure of transcendence who gives her a spiritual death. Unlike the puppet heroine, Iris is highly valued by her father.

Once brought to the brothel, she mistakes it for paradise and does not respond to the sexual advances of Osaka.  Her father, shamed by her new "status" rejects her. She jumps into a sewer to escape and winds up in some kind of garbage dump of the mind where she encounters a Ragpicker (Samuel Levine).

We prefer our operas to tell a logical tale, rather than an Expressionistic one. We have the same unappreciative response to Pelleas et Melisande, although we love the music.

We are quite sure that James Darrah's monotoned production delighted many but we are not among them. We own up to being rather literal and if a little girl sings about a doll, we'd like to see her playing with it.  If she sings about waking up from a portentous nightmare, we don't understand why she would be dancing around the stage with gleeful abandon. If she mentions her new black sandals, we don't want to see her barefoot.

The set designers (Emily Anne MacDonald and Cameron Jaye Mock) created a bare grey and white set for Act I which takes place in Iris' home. There is nothing but a white wall on which Adam Larsen's designs of shadows were projected. The evil characters occupied a space above.  There was not a single element suggestive of Japan. There was a lot of stuff falling from the sky.  Leaves? Snow?

For the brothel scene of Act II, everything was slick black and white with red neon. Again, nothing was suggestive of Japan nor of the 19th c. The red slab on which Osaka attempts to seduce Iris looked so incredibly uncomfortable we wondered if any seduction could have ever succeeded!

The sewer scene of Act III seemed to be a tower of discarded refuse with the ragpickers searching for anything shiny.  They might have looked in the set for Act II!  Should you be wondering how we thought it might have been better staged, we would have recommended  a concert version, thus avoiding the problematic story!  In the words of the Blind Father "Questo dramma è menzogna tutto! Malvagio in testo".

Peabody Southwell's costumes were consistent with the overall design.  Innocent Iris wore an unflattering ankle-length white dress that did nothing to make her look child-like.  Her blind father looked the most realistic.

The denizens of the red light district all wore black and looked like comic book villains.  The so-called Geishas wore garments suggestive of S&M with lots of straps and thigh-high boots. Kyoto was dressed in a jump suit which plunged to the waist revealing Mr. Williams' handsome chest. (No complaints on that account!)

Bard SummerScape offers many more programs centered around shorter operas and excerpts, offering something for everyone. They provide a lovely respite from the barren summer landscape. Head north and enjoy!

(c) meche kroop