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

LOVE AND MARRIAGE, MOZART STYLE

Ildar Abdrazakov and Isabel Leonard (photo by Ken Howard)

What is there new to say about Mozart's most perfect opera, Nozze di Figaro? It is not only a story of wily servants triumphing over clueless aristocrats; it is also the story of four couples in different stages of their relationships.  Hormonal Cherubino is in the flirtation stage; by the end of the opera he will be betrothed to adorable Barbarina.  Clever Figaro and charming Susanna are madly in love and about to wed--but touched by jealousy.  The nasty lascivious Count Almaviva cheats recklessly on the once-spunky but now lovelorn Countess.  Grumpy Dr. Bartolo and his grasping housekeeper Marcellina were once lovers and will be reunited by circumstance.

Sir Richard Eyre's new "Upstairs/Downstairs" production at the Metropolitan Opera is, for the most part, rather wonderful.  There is a lot going on onstage; during the overture, we see one of the Count's conquests hastily grabbing her clothes and running offstage and, as the grand turntable stage makes its turns, we see servants going about their business.  Characters are always motivated for their "stage business".  Although the production brings out the darkness in the Beaumarchais tale (so magnificently adapted by Lorenzo Da Ponte), there is an abundance of humor in this stage business.  

For unknown and irrelevant reasons, Eyre has elected to set the story in the 1930's. This is not a damaging update; perhaps there were Counts in 1930's Spain and perhaps Cherubino was being sent off to fight in the Civil War.  Whether the droit de seigneur still existed, we know not.  It may not have even existed in Mozart's day and perhaps was used by Beaumarchais with dramatic license.  The real problem with setting the opera in the 30's is the unflattering hairstyles and costumes.  Poor Susanna looks just like every other female servant in the house.

Maestro James Levine received a grand ovation from the audience, actually waved at his adoring fans and gave his customary illustrious performance.  The cast worked well as an ensemble and were almost entirely wonderful.  Chief among the wonderfuls was mezzo-soprano Isabel Leonard who seems to own the role both vocally and dramatically.  She just keeps getting better and better.  This time, her sense of humor appeared sharper.  Just to watch her portraying a youth dressed in women's clothes and teetering on high heels was a major treat.

Ildar Abdrazakov made a delightfully sympathetic Figaro with his rich bass filling the cavernous Met.  Baritone Peter Mattei gave a rather darker and more brutal take on the Count and sounded just about perfect.  Soprano Marlis Petersen created a likable Susanna. Only soprano Amanda Majeski disappointed as the Countess.  Vocally, her voice seemed undersupported; she seemed to struggle with Levine's slow tempi in her big arias. We longed to see some of the spunkiness of Rosina and some of the dignity of her position in life but the performance seemed distant and lifeless.

Robert Pomakov made a terrifically pompous Dr. Bartolo and Susanne Mentzer shone as Marcellina.  Greg Fedderly was deliciously oily as the snooping gossipy Don Basilio.

Last but not least, Ying Fang, a member of the Lindemann Young Artist Development Program, fulfilled the demands of the role of Barbarina better than any we have ever seen.  Her lovely focused soprano and astute acting were a joy to behold.

Although we disliked the costumes, we give kudos to Rob Howell for his imaginative turntable set.  It permitted characters to be seen as they moved from one room of the house to another and lent an overall freedom to the drama.  Paule Constable's lighting was alright but we wish more had been done with the sky behind the house. The action takes place during one long day and the passage of time could have been indicted rather easily.  That dawn lasted forever!

To those readers who think I am opposed to new productions, these opinions may serve to indicate otherwise.  Eyre's production certainly shed light on the darkness of the score and also on Mozart's negative take on males in general.  In this production, everyone is scheming.  Sometimes funny, something not so funny.

(c) meche kroop

PARSING PARSIFAL

The reader may be forgiven for thinking this is a photo of a meeting of Mormon missionaries taken during our recent trip to Utah.  No, what you are seeing is a scene from Act I of Parsifal at The Metropolitan Opera; depicted are the Knights of the Holy Grail.  The Met Orchestra performed their usual magic under the magic wand of Israeli conductor Asher Fisch.  The roles were wisely cast; tenor Jonas Kaufmann's dusky tenor and lithely youthful  body filled the role of Parsifal the benighted swan-slayer to the perfection promised by his earlier appearance as Siegmund at the Met; Bass René Pape was a very human Gurnemanz, coloring his voice from porter to stout as called for by the text, no less wonderful than in his Met appearance as Boris; Baritone Peter Mattei suffered piteously and convincingly as Amfortas such that we breathed a sigh of relief when he recovered in the final scene; Bass-baritone Evgeny Nikitin was just as evil and repulsive as one would want Klingsor to be;  Kundry was finely sung and acted by Michaela Martens, replacing an indisposed Katarina Dalayman.

With all that going for it, we found François Girard's production, admired by some and tolerated by others, unsatisfying and nonspiritual.  Whatever he intended with his "concept" we experienced the spirituality only in Wagner's passionate music and inventive orchestration.  We had to close our eyes against the Mormon missionaries, the parched earth, the fissure, the weird anti-seductive hand-jive of the Flower Maidens in Act II, the watery stage blood through which the singers had to wade.  We had to close our eyes and listen to the way Wagner could take a theme and turn it upside-down and inside-out and weave it throughout the orchestral sections so that it just washed over us. 

So we have no love for Set Designer Michael Levine's scorched earth, nor any for Costume Designer Thibault Vancraenenbroeck's contemporary duds, nor any for Choreographer Carolyn Choa with her herky-jerky Flower Maidens.  Lighting by David Finn never seemed to match the time of day mentioned in the libretto.  Video Designer Peter Flaherty, however, mounted some lovely projections that slightly overcame the drab sets.

That just means more love left over for the stellar cast and orchestra!

The two 40-minute intermissions gave us plenty of time to think about the recurrent themes in Wagner's operas--the orphaned unenlightened youth who goes on a quest, the power-hungry monster, the woman who sleeps for a long long time, the struggle between good and evil, the sacrifice of a body part (best not to ask), the severe punishment for the sin of sexual desire, women who tease, the wanderer who belongs nowhere, the swan, redemption through sacrifice, and so on.  One could have a field day, or write a book, about all these symbols.  But...let us consider this.  Everyone brings their own set of meanings to symbols which are therefore not universal.  To Westerners, black symbolizes death; in the East it is white; and in New York it is just sophistication!  So...you may experience the Parsifal legend as spiritual or you may experience it as pseudo-religious claptrap.  Just enjoy the music!

(c) meche kroop