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

AND THE LAST SHALL BE FIRST

 "Daphne" by Alexandra Dikeakos (from the collection of meche kroop)

Richard Strauss composed an epilogue to his opera Daphne in 1943, over 6 years after he composed the opera. Last night at Carnegie Hall, the choral work was performed before the opera. Under the effective direction of James Bagwell, The Bard Festival Chorus delivered the a cappella work entitled An den Baum Daphne in the best possible fashion; lush melodies were woven together into a dense texture with luminous harmonies that delighted the ear as Joseph Gregor's text paid tribute to the transfigured Daphne, now a tree. 

We wish we had enjoyed the opera as much. It was a poor decision to present the opera in Carnegie Hall with the singers onstage in front of the orchestra. With some exceptions which we will get to, the singers struggled to be heard above the massive forces of Strauss' orchestra. Most of them failed to be heard. Maestro Leon Botstein, a formidable scholar and lecturer, did not manage to achieve balance between orchestra and singers.

The most important exception was soprano Jana McIntyre in the title role; her highly focused instrument sailed right over the orchestra  and managed to impress us with its clarion tone and meaningful colors. We have been a fan of Ms. McIntyre since we first heard her as a student at Manhattan School of Music in 2015, dazzling us with her Queen of the Night in Mozart's Die Zauberflöte. We heard her twice as a George London finalist, showing off her long lines in Bellini's  I Puritani and then as Amina in his La Sonnambula. We heard her as an apprentice of the Santa Fe Opera as Lucia. The first time we heard her sing Strauss was as Zdenka in Arabella. Most recently we heard her as Ännchen in Heartbeat Opera's Der Freischutz.

Our greatest joy is in watching young opera singers grow and achieve their promise. Tenor Aaron Blake has a similarly lengthy history with us.  The George London Foundation honored him a few years after his competition win with a recital of his own. We heard him sing Edgardo's final lament with New Amsterdam Opera. We heard him at Metropolitan Opera concerts as Lensky, Don Ottavio, and Nemorino. We were there when he introduced us to Gregory 

Spears' Fellow Traveler, and Donizetti's Parisini d'Este. But what we remember best was the most impactful delivery of Schubert's "Erlkönig" that we ever heard. Last night he was mostly audible as the shepherd Leukippos and we were sorry when Apollo killed him off.

Mezzo-soprano Ronnita Miller sang the role of Gaea, Daphne's mother, and impressed us with her low notes. We thought of her as a contralto and imagined her singing Erda in Wagner's Ring Cycle.

Beyond that, we didn't hear much vocally, certainly not enough to assess the gifts of the other singers. The usually fine heldentenor Kyle van Schoonhoven pushed to be heard over the orchestra and sounded "woofy". The shepherds could not be heard at all. The two maidens, performed by Marlen Nahhas and Ashley Dixon harmonized beautifully when they could be heard. Mostly we just felt sorry for the singers to have been put in such a position.

What we did enjoy was Strauss' colorful and dense orchestration. There was actually an alphorn played by the Assistant Chair of the Horn Division. As a matter of fact, the winds were so compelling that we wound up looking for information on the difference between a bass clarinet and a basset horn, two members of the clarinet family with deep mellow sounds. 

The orchestra got most of our attention when Ms. McIntrye wasn't floating her gorgeous tones over the dense sounds. Strauss' writing leans toward the programmatic and, although we couldn't hear the words and did not want to read along with the libretto, we found that the orchestration did a fine job of telling the story of a pure nature-loving young woman who rejects the call of romantic love and gets transformed into a tree by a guilty Apollo who has slain her friend and would-be lover Leukippos. Indeed, we heard a brass chorale as the father Peneios (Stefan Egerstrom) spoke of the gods on Olympus. The color of the orchestra exceeded those of the rainbow creating images of nature and moods of reverence. 

We suppose we should be grateful for the opportunity to hear a rarely performed work, even in concert version. However, we might just as well have stayed at home and listened to a CD.

© meche kroop

MARTINU ON DREAMING

Sara Jakubiak, Maestro Leon Botstein, Aaron Blake, David Cangelosi, Alfred Walker, Kevin Burdette, Rebecca Jo Loeb, Philip Cokorinos, Tichina Vaughn, and Raehann Bryce-Davis

Diehard opera lovers, fans of the rare, and a sprinkling of Czech nationals gathered in force last night at Carnegie Hall for a concert production of Bohuslav Martinu's Julietta, a 1937 opera based on a French play Juliette, ou La clé des songes by Georges Neveux. There must have been something very appealing about the theme for the composer to get it translated into Czech by Alex Zucker.

We speculated about the historical forces extant in Europe at that time--the insecurity of living on the same continent as a megalomaniac madman (What's old is new again!) making a dream world more appealing than reality. We thought at length about the surreal aspects of the story which gave the composer free rein to utilize massive orchestral forces in strange and colorful ways, developing new and wonderful colors with surprising rhythmic twists. 

We loved these orchestral colors, the French Horn fanfares, the use of the English Horn and the Bass Clarinet. Liberal use was also made of an accordion and there were sounds we could not identify.

The odd story concerns a Parisian bookseller (performed by terrific tenor Aaron Blake) who revisits a small coastal town where three years earlier he had become enchanted by a woman singing a love song, heard through an open window. There are some pretty strange things going on in this town; the citizens have no memories and live in the present. The railway station disappears. Michel gets elected to high office because he has memories--of a rubber duckie from childhood. 

The chief of police (astutely enacted by David Cangelosi) later becomes a postman and denies his earlier occupation. Everything is off-kilter, the way it is in dreams. So, we realize that Michel is dreaming. But was his earlier visit also a dream? One can only speculate; but credence is lent this theory by our own experience of returning occasionally to a certain place in our dream life that doesn't really exist.

Dreams are utilized in the theater quite often.  Think of Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream and Pedro Calderón de la Barca's La Vida es Sueño. Although Eastern religions claim that what we call reality is really maya or illusion. Nonetheless, we are Westerners and see things differently.

In this libretto, an innkeeper tells stories to an elderly couple, which makes them happy. Is that not true today when many rely on film and other media to make life more interesting?

Act I sets the stage for the action which follows; Act II is surely more compelling as Julietta appears and seems to know and remember Michel. The music given to Julietta, so beautifully sung by soprano Sara Jakubiak, is the most lyrical of the evening. After a romantic reunion there is a spat and the frustrated Michel fires his pistol at the fleeing Julietta. But no one else hears the shot and there is no body. Visiting her home yields no further information. The resident denies her existence. Does this absurdity not resemble dreams of anxiety and frustration you may have had?

Act III brings things together. Michel is in the Central Office of Dreams and there are episodes of humor--a bellhop who wants to dream about the Wild West, a convict who wants dreams of a huge cell, a beggar who wants a dream seaside holiday. At the end Michel refuses to leave and becomes one of the "people in grey", madmen all, deniers of reality. How suitable for Hitlerian Europe!

The singers did yeoman's work in learning this extremely difficult language and managed to capture the rhythmic thrust of the sound as matched to the music. The vocal lines were not at all melodic, as is common in opera of the mid 20th c. The lines were often parlando and there were some lines spoken in English. Although there were no titles, libretti were distributed with the programs and house lights were left on. Most members of the audience elected to read along with the performance.

Aside from the outstanding performances of Ms. Jakubiak, Mr. Blake, and Mr. Cangelosi, we particularly enjoyed mezzo-soprano Rebecca Jo Loeb whose versatility animated a number of roles; equivalent versatility can be claimed by bass Kevin Burdette and bass-baritone Philip Cokorinos. The resonant bass-baritone Alfred Walker also fulfilled a number of roles to perfection.

Two mezzo-sopranos added significantly to the performance--Tichina Vaughn and Raehann Bryce-Davis who each assumed a number of different roles. The Bard Festival Chorale, directed by James Bagwell made significant contributions as well.

But the main event was the orchestra which played magnificently under the baton of Leon Botstein, who loves discovering neglected works. Julietta has not been heard in the United States before. Martinu was a prolific composer who left Czechoslovakia in 1923 for France where his music certainly acquired a degree of Gallic influence. This work premiered in Prague in 1938 but was also translated into French. Shortly afterward Martinu came to the United States, bringing the score with him. Strange that it had to wait nearly 80 years to be brought to the stage of Carnegie Hall. Thank you Maestro Botstein!

(c) meche kroop

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEMON

Pavel Suliandziga, Andrey Valentii, Alexander Nesterenko, Olga Tolkmit, Maestro Leon Botstein, Efim Zavalny, Nadezhda Babintseva, Ekaterina Egorova, and Yakov Strizhak

The highest praise we can heap on the Bard SummerScape production of Anton Rubinstein's 1871 opera Demon is that it was worth the four hour bus trip from Manhattan in a driving rain. (It was only two hours returning). What a rare opportunity to see a stunning production of an opera that has achieved its success on native soil but has rarely been seen in the USA.

Maestro Leon Botstein led the American Symphony Orchestra in a fine reading of Rubinstein's highly accessible score, one marked by exotic Eastern modes and tantalizing tunes some of which reminded us of Borodin. The presence of The Pesvebi Georgian Dancers, choreographed by Shorena Barbakadze, added color and action to the somewhat static story. Black clad male dancers exhibited consummate athleticism whilst the women, dressed in white with cherry red veils, delighted the eye with their grace.

Pavel Viskovatov's libretto was based upon a poem by Mikhail Lermontov and we found it repetitive and not terribly interesting. The Demon, a fallen angel, falls for the beautiful Princess Tamara, makes sure that his rival Prince Sinodal gets killed, and pursues Tamara until she relents. She dies.


It took some doing to get this opera past the censors since it was considered sacrilegious. To a modern audience, a rebellious anti-hero who wants freedom and passion more than spiritual peace is not at all strange. 

As portrayed by baritone Efim Zavalny, this Demon, a fallen angel, is sexy as all get-out, with a commanding presence adding to his burnished baritone. No wonder that the lovely Princess Tamara, performed by the diminutive soprano Olga Tolkmit, cannot resist his importuning. His supernatural powers seemed unnecessary!

The third and final act comprises the Demon's triumphing over the Angel (rich-voiced mezzo-soprano Nadezhda) for Tamara's love. Gorgeous melodies are exchanged by the two lovers as the Princess, opening up her slender focused soprano, can no longer resist. (Who could???) Subsequently, the Angel gets her moment of triumph as she saves Tamara's soul.

It occurred to us that the theme of spiritually challenged men requiring saving by the pure love of an innocent maiden is a rather common theme in opera, i.e. Der Fliegende Holländer and Faust. Of course, the woman gives up her life in the ultimate sacrifice. Lest we consign this theme to the 19th c., just think of some contemporary films with the same theme! There will always be women who want to save "bad boys". Still, we find nothing so terrible in those who prefer love and freedom to blind obedience and the promise of peaceful paradise.

All of the voices matched the excellence of the leads. There is nothing like a Russian bass, and Andrey Valentii's performance of the role of Prince Gudal (Tamara's father) was powerful and convincing.

Poor Prince Sinodal, sung by tenor Alexander Nesterenko, gets killed off at the end of Act I, but not until he thrilled us with a sad lament. But he was not the only tenor onstage. As they say, there are no small roles, and tenor Pavel Suliandziga, a rising star if ever we heard one, sang with lustrous pure tone and lovely phrasing in the role of the Messenger.

Yakov Strizhak impressed us with his fine bass and convincing portrayal of the Old Servant to Prince Sinodal, coming across more like a loyal friend. The role of Nanny was performed by mezzo-soprano Ekaterina Egorova, appearing more like a Mother Superior in the convent.

With such a bare bones story, it falls to the Director to flesh out the tale with character development and this was well accomplished by Thaddeus Strassberger. Setting Act I in the same convent to which Tamara flees at the end of Act II served to emphasize her innocence.

Act II was lively and colorful as Tamara awaited her groom. Amid the singing and dancing he arrived--on a funeral bier.

The Demon's power over women was signaled by his affecting the dreams of the sleeping postulates of the convent as he wandered from cell to cell in Act III.

Paul Tate dePoo III's set design was magnificent. A series of arched elements were illuminated by JAX Messenger's Lighting Design and Greg Emetaz' Video Design. We loved the projection that looked like stained glass with images of angels and devils. Kaye Voyce's costumes for the wedding scene were opulent with Tamara's wedding dress a source of bridal envy.

Chorus Master James Bagwell pulled an excellent performance from the Bard Festival Chorale.

There will be four more performances and we encourage your attendance if tickets are available.

(c) meche kroop