CLASSIC LYRIC ARTS SUPER-SALON

 Pianists Patrick Gallagher and Marianna Vartikian with singers Enes Pektas, Sophia Durante, 

Sara Stevens and David Freides

It was far more than a private salon that we attended yesterday in a gorgeous Manhattan penthouse. It was a celebration of the first year of Classic Lyric Arts Vocal Academy ( hereafter known as CLAVA) giving a chance to first year attendees to show off the impressive results of their intense post-graduate training. Young opera singers are not always getting the training they need at the conservatories in order to survive in the highly competitive and demanding world of opera. Through CLAVA they will get the rigorous training they need, at a more comprehensive level than the students at CLA summer programs get.

One has only to listen to the results to know that CLAVA is on the right track. Students are learning the repertoire that will get them jobs, not roles in obscure modern works that will never become part of the canon. That they are profiting mightily from this training is obvious. There were moments in the recital when we heard such a fresh connection between the music, the text, and the inner feelings of the character that we had chills, and, at one point, tears. This is what opera really should be!

We cannot describe the entire generous program but we would like to share a few highlights. If we have little to say about technique, it is because we were captivated by the way in which the technique dissolved into the emotions of the character.  No sets! No costumes! Just "acting" coming from such a deep place that the singer dissolved into the character.

Take, for example, the performance of soprano Sara Stevens in "Marietta's Lied" from Korngold's Die Tote Stadt.  We felt all the melancholy, the sehnsucht, the sense of the transitory nature of happiness.  Of course the German was perfekt and the dynamics contributed but our attention was taken by the emotions.

Similarly, soprano Sophia Durante completely inhabited the character of Rosina from Rossini's Il Baribiere di Siviglia, making her adorably spunky by means of lavish, daring, and accurate fioritura, thus illustrating Rosina's willful determination. We just wanted to see her get her way (forgetting, for the moment, the unhappy Countess she becomes in Mozart's Nozze di Figaro).

We haven't heard soprano Yvette Keong in a number of years and we were delighted to witness how she has grown as an artist. The clarity of her diction made every word clear in "My Ship Has Sails" from Kurt Weill's Lady in the Dark. The beautiful text was lent a hint of an unbalanced character that inspired us to look up the plot of this 20th century American opera (unfortunately called a "musical"--but that's just an opinion of ours that regular readers will understand). Indeed, the character is troubled and undergoing psychoanalysis. Could it be just an accident that Ms. Keong conveyed that? We think not.

There were two male artists performing as well, both new to us. Turkish baritone Enes Pektas enacted the clueless Count from Mozart's Nozze di Figaro, wringing from the text every ounce of male piggishness. By what magic can dynamics and phrasing create a character? We wanted to laugh at his pomposity but also felt sorry for him! We found Mr. Pektas to be quite the storyteller.

Tenor David Freides impressed us greatly. with "E lucevan le Stelle" from Puccini's Tosca. We have heard this aria sung by all the great singers of the world and admired their technique and tone but we don't think we have ever felt so invited into a man's heart at the point of his imminent death--the flood of happy memories tinged with the feeling of loss. It was at this point that we became a bit tearful, feeling Mario's depth of character, rather than admiring the overtones.

Not only was the singing first-rate but the piano accompaniment was right on point. Accompanying duties were shared by Glenn Morton, Patrick Gallagher and (new to us) Marianna Vartikian.

What an incredibly special afternoon it was! We not only enjoyed the superlative singing but we feel we learned something about the artistry that is too often neglected, overlooked, or overwhelmed by excessively showy "grandstanding".

© meche kroop