LET'S GET CANDIDE

Leonard Bernstein's Candide at Santa Fe Opera (photo by Ken Howard for Santa Fe Opera)

If you think you've seen and heard Candide, guess again. If you want to experience this brilliant work in all its glory, you'd do well to get yourself to Santa Fe, New Mexico for one of the two final performances of the season.

The success of this production rests on many shoulders. We scarcely know where to begin but Maestro Harry Bicket's superb conducting resulted in applause almost as vociferous as that received by the presence in the audience of Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg!  The light-hearted music composed by Bernstein seemed to underscore the dark humor of the book, based on the satirical 18th c. novella written by Voltaire. As in Mozart's music, a melody in a major key may drift momentarily into a minor key; Bicket's attention to these shifts made for a poignant listening experience.

The scholarship of dramaturg Matthew Epstein, Senior Artistic Advisor at Santa Fe Opera, must have involved some intense activity in choosing which scenes and dialogue to include and what to leave out. The work itself began its life in the middle of the 20th c. and was not successful. It took many decades and the inclusion and later exclusion of a parade of lyricists to ensure its ultimate success. The version we saw last night, one of four extant iterations, is the Old Vic version, an expansion for the Scottish Opera of the Hal Prince/Hugh Wheeler version.

This is an exception to the maxim that "too many cooks spoil the broth". Voltaire's novella provides enough material for a variety of treatments. We will not get into a discussion of Candide's fluid identity. We will call it an opera as long as it is presented unamplified. Although we heard this version recently at Carnegie Hall with a fine cast and all the original music, the voices were badly amplified and we missed all the clever lyrics. Last night, the talented cast was quite intelligible and were supported by excellent titles, in case one missed a word.

In this story of innocence betrayed and reality accepted, we are exposed to countless trials and tribulations; we witness the heroes of the story pursuing their ideals and surviving their hardships. Perhaps this is one of the reasons that the public has such affection for the work.

The literary work upon which it is based is Voltaire's 1759 novella, a satiric attack on war, religious persecution, and the positivist philosophy of Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz who claimed that whatever happens in this world is divinely ordered and for the best.

What we didn't know was that one of the episodes is based upon true events. In Lisbon, the horrendous death toll of an earthquake resulted in religious persecutions meant to "appease God". Well!  If that doesn't sound like some contemporary stuff going on in the Middle East we will eat the score for breakfast!

If anyone doesn't know the story, it involves the picaresque adventures of an innocent youth named Candide and his beloved Cousin Cunegonde who were tutored by one Dr. Pangloss, a stand-in for Leibniz. The two survive the horrors of war, shipwrecks, deceits and betrayals, as well as the aforementioned auto-da-fe;  they get continually separated and reunited more than once until at the end they decide to have a quiet life with modest pleasures.

Director Laurent Pelly conceived the work in almost cartoon style with highly exaggerated gestures; although we personally did not care for this style, the audience loved it; we do admit that it made the somber end more impactful--kinda like a punch in the gut. There were quite a few moist eyes to be seen and sniffles to be heard.

Pelly's costume designs for the principals were as colorful and sweet as candy. The excellent chorus, comprising Santa Fe Opera Apprentices led by the always wonderful Susanne Sheston, sang clearly, and were dressed in period costumes executed in fabric that emulated printed words on a page. Chantal Thomas' set design was minimalistic but also reflected the work's literary origins. Projections by 59 Productions augmented the simple set.

As the eponymous Candide, tenor Alek Shrader was given several more arias than were assigned to the character in either the Broadway version or the New York City Opera version (both of which we enjoyed). He was convincing in his portrayal and his light tenor was musical throughout; we particularly enjoyed "It must be so".

Soprano Brenda Rae sang and acted up a storm. Cunegonde was never an innocent and Ms. Rae's delivery of "Glitter and Be Gay", one of our favorite coloratura arias, had just the right edge of irony to it.

Jarrett Ott, one of our favorite baritones, has become a regular at Santa Fe Opera; we loved his performance in the role of Maximilian to which he brought his own style ,substance, and wit.

It was very satisfying to witness mezzo-soprano Gina Perregrino, well remembered from Manhattan School of Music and International Vocal Arts Institute, fulfilling the promise we observed over the past six years. Her performance of Paquette was as on-point dramatically as it was vocally.

As The Old Lady, mezzo-soprano Helene Schneiderman tackled this wonderful role with gusto. There were no flaws in her portrayal but there was something about the performance that begged for more presence.  Perhaps it was the costume which failed to limn the character. 

In the customary doubling of roles as the storyteller Voltaire and the character of the indestructible Doctor Pangloss we heard Santa Fe Opera regular Kevin Burdette, whose resonant bass rang out with authority. We didn't even recognize him in the roles of Martin and the slave/valet Cacambo.

Anthony Robin Schneider appeared as the Grand Inquisitor, and also as the Baron with only his face showing through a hole in his portrait. Similarly, Kathleen Reveille's brief appearance as the Baroness was also as a face in her portrait. This same technique was used when The Old Lady arrived in Spain and sang "I am easily assimilated" with her head appearing atop a parade of costumes painted on a board each with different Spanish costumes. In the latter case it was merely distracting

With a couple roles apiece, bass-baritone Erik van Heyningen and tenor Abraham Bretón impressed as the two rivals for Cunegonde's sexual favors; the former portrayed the Cardinal Archbishop of Paris whilst the latter took the role of Don Issachar the Jew.

Tenor Richard Troxell also sang several roles and was so successfully costumed that we didn't recognize him.

It was an altogether stunning Santa Fe Opera premiere and we recommend it highly--not only for Bernstein's magnificent music (Oh how we loved the fugue-like quartet for Candide, Cunegonde, Maximilian, and Paquette!) and the clever lyrics, but also for the highly resonant stance of Voltaire against religious excess, silly philosophies, war, and greed.

(c) meche kroop

A ROSENKAVALIER BY ANY OTHER NAME

Concertmaster Markus Wolf, Adrianne Pieczonka, Angela Brower, Peter Rose, Hanna-Elisabeth Müller, Maestro Kirill Petrenko, Lawrence Brownlee, Helene Schneiderman, and Ulrich Ress

What is your favorite Strauss opera? Our is, hands down, Der Rosenkavalier, just presented in concert form at Carnegie Hall by the Bayerische Staatsoper, under the baton of Maestro Kirill Petrenko. The partnership of Richard Strauss and librettist Hugo von Hoffmansthal was legendary.

We love the characters, above all the noble and worldly wise Marschallin who knows just how to handle a lovesick teenage lover, a boorish entitled cousin, and a miffed member of the parvenu persuasion. Her concerns with aging and the passage of time seem quaint in our epoch, when 60 is the new 40. Perhaps in the 18th c. a woman close to 30, as we believe she is meant to be, was likely considered to be past her "sell by" date. Still, we identify!

We also love the character of Octavian who is highly hormonal and fickle in the way that young men can be.  His cluelessness is tempered by his protective nature toward women and we find him an endearing personage. He loves passionately but capriciously.

Who would not love Sophie, fresh out of convent and given all the burdensome baggage of someone of the bourgeois class recently raised to nobility; she is determined to fit in and to permit no slights from the highly born. No pushover is she, however, but feisty in her intent to avoid a miserable fate and to find a better one for herself.

We do not love Baron Ochs, the proverbial bull in a china shop. But we love laughing at him, with all his pretentiousness and feelings of entitlement. His attitude toward women reminds us of POTUS. We squirmed as he boasted of his success with women and his attitude toward his bride-to-be was nothing short of deplorable.

We love the score and the massive forces of the orchestra for which Strauss has written music of complexity and great variety. The affection felt for the story is obvious in his lavish orchestration. and attention to detail. Each act begins with a stunning prelude and each character has a leitmotiv. Mr. Petrenko conducted with verve and brought out things in the score that we had not heard when we were distracted by the lavish sets and costumes. And we never mind hearing a waltz!

The opera begins with a musical depiction of orgasm with whooping brass; the intent is unmistakable, even in concert.  Strauss saved the best for last--a gorgeous trio for three very different female voices in which each expresses her innermost thoughts and feelings. 

The Marschallin herself was pushed into marriage straight out of convent and, we imagine, compensates for the presence of a probably much older and unloved husband by taking on young lovers. That she relinquishes Octavian to young Sophie is a mark not only of her generosity of spirit but of her acceptance of reality--"der lauf der welt".

Hearing the magnificent forces of the Bayerische Staatsoper and their excellent choir in a concert performance was a new experience for us.  We carry fond memories of the late lamented Nathaniel Merrill/Robert O'Hearn iteration at The Metropolitan Opera, starring Renée Fleming, Susan Graham, and Christine Schäfer; this permitted us to "fill in the blanks" visually. We wondered how audience members new to the opera might have understood the absences of minor characters, with major characters speaking into thin air!

Still, we must admire the way every cast member offered not only superlative vocal performances but effective acting, without the use of music stands.  Suppose we call it semi-staged.

Of all the excellence onstage, we were most impressed with the Octavian of American mezzo-soprano Angela Brower.  Her rich resonant instrument filled Carnegie Hall from stage to balcony and her acting was totally convincing. She needed no costuming but used her body to emulate a 17-year-old boy. When she was called upon to portray Mariandel (a joke on Baron Ochs) she needed no women's weeds to effect the transformation and successfully imitated a rural dialect. She was able to create great chemistry with both Ms. Pieczonka and Ms. Müller.

As the Marschallin, dramatic soprano Adrianne Pieczonka took a while to settle into the role but wound up being a marvelous Marschallin and provided the firm strength to anchor the final trio.

As the virginal Sophie, lyric soprano Hanna-Elisabeth Müller dazzled with her crystalline sound and evoked the right degree of sympathy.

Bass Peter Rose kept us laughing, even when we felt anger at his pawing of Sophie. He is truly a master comedian.

Baritone Markus Eiche made an effective Herr Faninal, Sophie's father. He so desperately wanted her marriage to Baron Ochs that he was ready to throw her back into the convent if she disobeyed.

Tenor Ulrich Ress made a fine Valzacchi with mezzo-soprano Helene Schneiderman performing as his "niece" Annina.  The two gossips and intriguers were instrumental in the plot to orchestrate Baron Ochs humiliation and rejection. (Like POTUS, Ochs doesn't think he has done anything wrong and can't believe he is being rejected.)

Tenor Lawrence Brownlee gave us a nice aria during the levee, a moment of beauty midst the controlled chaos of this musically and dramatically rambunctious scene.

So yes, this is our favorite Strauss opera.  No one dies, no one gets beheaded, no one goes mad. It's all just good clean fun with Hoffmansthal in the early years of the 20th c. looking back with nostalgia at a fantasy of the 18th c.  Even the presentation of a silver rose was an invented fantasy, but we love it just as much as if it were real.

(c) meche kroop

SANTA FE OPERA DOES VANESSA

VANESSA by Samuel Barber at the Santa Fe Opera (photo by Ken Howard)

Samuel Barber's opera premiered at The Metropolitan Opera in 1958 after a long and difficult gestation.  Ultimately, Barber's partner Gian-Carlo Menotti completed the libretto, inspired by the atmosphere of Isak Dinesen's Seven Gothic Tales. Last night the Santa Fe Opera presented this opera with an all-star cast that did justice to Barber's score.  We rarely experience such perfect casting with nary a weak link.

As the eponymous Vanessa, Canadian soprano Erin Wall, whom we have greatly enjoyed as Strauss heroines right here at the Santa Fe Opera, performed the role with total commitment, employing her lustrous soprano to convey a complex character, a woman of single-minded hopefulness but blind to reality. Her voice soared with passion.

No less wonderful in the role of her niece Erika was French mezzo-soprano Virginie Verrez, who not only created a believable character but mastered the difficult task of making the English language comprehensible. This role is her Santa Fe Opera debut and we were thrilled to see her onstage here after enjoying her many performances in New York City. Her delivery of the most famous aria of the opera "Must the Winter Come So Soon" was perfection.

As the mysterious Anatol, Zach Borichevsky utilized his terrific tenor and dramatic skills to create another fascinating character--a glib fellow who has no use for depth of character--an opportunistic rascal courting aunt and niece simultaneously.

As the Doctor, bass-baritone James Morris commanded the stage as he usually does with his marvelous instrument and presence.  With all those complex characters, the story needed one who was straight-forward. A heavy story like this one also needs some moments of lightness, and a score light on memorable melody needed those precious moments when the Doctor attempts to teach Anatol to dance to a beautiful folk tune "Under the Willow Tree". His scene during the New Year's Ball in which he inebriatedly  contrasts his experience with women as patients and women as dancing partners was memorable. His elegiac aria about time and memory was riveting. It tickles us to learn that Mr. Morris was an apprentice here in 1969!

Mezzo-soprano Helene Schneiderman had little singing to do but her onstage concentration as the silent Baroness was compelling. As a very funny Major-Domo apprentice tenor Andrew Bogard demonstrated a winning manner as he coveted the furs of the wealthy guests. Apprentice bass-baritone Andrew Simpson made a fine footman.

For those who do not know the story, we see it as a character study--one of three generations of women insulated from the outside world and cosseted by servants. They live isolated and locked into Vanessa's illusory hope that the man she loved twenty years earlier would return at any time. In what amounts to a folie a deux, her niece Erika plays along, ordering special dishes for dinner and laying a place for him. Clearly, she worships her aunt and supports her.

The elderly Baroness has stopped speaking to her daughter and actually doesn't even speak with the Doctor, only with her niece. Erika confides in her grandmother but has a guilty secret that she cannot share with Vanessa.  This guilty secret is that she had intimate relations with Anatol the night he arrived at their country home after Vanessa had fled from him.  You see, this is not the Anatol that abandoned Vanessa 20 years earlier!  It is that man's son who has heard a great deal about Vanessa from his recently deceased father. He has come to take his father's place. It is likely that he is a gold digger.

Erika's character is just as uncompromising as her grandmother's. Anatol is interested in marrying her, perhaps out of guilt but also for financial reasons.  But Erika, who has fallen wildly in love with him, knows that he doesn't love her sufficiently and rejects him. She does this in spite of her grandmother's urging her to marry him and preserve her honor.

Meanwhile the scoundrel is also courting Vanessa who, lost in her own joy, fails to notice what is happening with her niece. When, after Erika's failed suicide attempt (and miscarriage), she confronts Anatol asking him to reveal all, he gives her the reassurance she has hoped for.  And so does Erika. They all collude to support Vanessa's illusion and Vanessa departs for Paris with Anatol, whom she has wed.  Erika is left behind to care for the aging Baroness and to inherit the lavish manse. 

Her isolation is one of disappointment and despair, whereas Vanessa's was one of hope.  But both women covered the mirrors as a denial of the passage of time.

The story has been set at the turn of the 20th c. in a Scandinavian country manse. Director James Robinson has updated the tale to about 1940 to no major disadvantage (or major benefit for that matter). He told the story well in a manner that held our interest throughout.  When we think of opera we think first of the Italians of the 19th c. and then of German and French composers. Contemporary operas in English generally strike us as "plays with music". So let it be noted that this worked extremely well as theater!

But what about Barber's music? He certainly knew how to write melodic vocal lines but eschewed them here with the exception of Erika's aria and the Doctor's. The final quintet however was magnificent. Barber used the orchestra to reflect the various moods of the piece and we have no complaint on that count. Leonard Slatkin's conducting captured the many moods.

Allen Moyer's scenic design was perfect.  The white and grey set reflected the coldness of the clime and the chill atmosphere of the manse.  As part of the design, a huge cracked mirror was revealed when the drapes were opened. A mirror reflects not quite perfectly but a cracked mirror reflects the distorted understanding of the characters.

James Schuette's costumes were appropriate to the period.  Although we would have preferred seeing the fashions of the original time period we were satisfied that the costumes established congruency with the intended updating.

Including this work in their season was a courageous move by The Santa Fe Opera and a wise one. It was an evening in which every element worked together to provide artistry and entertainment both. We have rarely enjoyed a 20th c. opera as much.

(c) meche kroop