OFF WITH HER HEAD

Stephen Costello and Anna Netrebko in Anna Bolena

Closing night of The Metropolitan Opera's Summer HD Festival offered drizzle, umbrellas and a mostly fine production of Anna Bolena.  The review of last year's live production can be seen below.  HD Director Gary Halvorson wisely used closeups which relieved some of the tedium of the rather boring first act.  Donizetti's melodies are thrilling but nothing much happens onstage.  This is a talky (singy?) opera and David McVicar's production is not exciting.  In no particular order, we were most impressed by the work of the chorus, tenor Stephen Costello's ardent Richard Percy and Tamara Mumford's fine Smeton.  Ms. Netrebko's lustrous voice and emotional range in the second act were well worth hearing but wouldn't impress anyone who'd heard Maria Callas.

RED BED AND YELLOW JACKET

Aside from the gorgeous singing (more on that in a moment), what stands out in this monochromatic production of “Anna Bolena” is The Queen’s Red Bed and The King’s Yellow Jacket.  Set Designer Robert Jones has given the production a castle with moveable walls, much like the sliding shoji seen in Japan.  The costumes of Jenny Tiramani are absolutely accurate in their period detail, down to the undergarments.  (Don’t ask how I know this.)  However, the consistent use of black and white against the grey walls is fatiguing to the eye which yearns for some color.  Fortunately, the astute lighting of Paule Constable goes a long way toward providing some atmosphere.

The production by David McVicar could best be described as static.  Granted that not much happens in the opera.  King Henry VIII has tired of wife #2 who has borne only a daughter and has his eye (and both hands) all over Jane Seymour, Anne’s lady-in-waiting.  His method of dealing with this situation is to invite Lord Richard Percy (Anne’s great love whom she left to marry Henry) to return from exile and to thereby entrap Anne and get her convicted of adultery and dispatched by The Lord High Executioner of Titipoo, sorry, England.  He implements the plot by manipulating Smeton, Anne’s pet musician who is also in love with her.

The Met’s superstar soprano du jour Anna Netrebko also has the entire audience in love with her.  Well, most of the audience.  She makes a huge impression with a weighty voice and some nice squillo at the top; she is ravishingly beautiful in spite of the recent “baby fat” and she chews up the scenery with a succession of emotions--pride, indignation, despair, jealousy, rage, terror, forgiveness, you name it.  But something undefinable is missing.  One has only to listen to some youtube recordings of Callas or Sills (from the New York City Opera’s mid 1970’s heyday) to feel the goosebumps missing from Netrebko’s performance.  Detracting still further was her poor diction in Italian and a bit of sloppiness in the coloratura.  It wasn’t a bad performance, it just didn’t thrill the soul.

American tenor Stephen Costello was affecting as the lovelorn Percy, a role of daunting tessitura, and his Italian was far easier to understand.  Ildar Abdrazakov was a virile and intimidating Henry.  In the trouser role of Smeton, Lindemann graduate Tamara Mumford was outstanding.  Her acting was completely convincing and her mezzo absolutely gorgeous.  Ekaterina Gubanova sang Jane Seymour with a metallic edge to her voice that made it difficult to empathize.  Keith Miller and Eduardo Valdes were fine in the smaller roles of Lord Rochefort and Sir Hervey.

Marco Armiliato conducted Donizetti’s dazzling melodies.  There was one exquisite moment when Smeton is playing the lute for Ann, rather doing an excellent job of miming, while harpist Deborah Hoffman (I believe) is playing the actual music.

(c) meche kroop

WELL CAST WAR HORSE

Il Trovatore

Silly plot, incomparable music.  That is the way we customarily describe Il Trovatore.  Verdi's luscious arias and duets tumble head over heels, each one a knockout.  And so, we overlook the ridiculous plot about the gypsy Azucena throwing her own baby into the fire.  We even overlook the dark set of Charles Edwards and the unflattering costumes for Leonora by Brigitte Reiffenstuel.  We revel in the large but flexible voice of soprano Sandra Radvanovsky as Leonora, the woman caught between two men-- Manrico the gypsy she loves, passionately sung by tenor Marcelo Alvarez, and the wicked Count Di Luna, stylishly sung by baritone Dmitri Hvorostovky.  The revue of this 2011 live performance is  appended below.  Barbara Willis Sweete directed the HD of this David McVicar production and Marco Armiliato conducted.  Sadly, the lovely Ms. Radvanovsky was lit as unflatteringly as she was costumed.

There are reasons why middle-period Verdi is so popular with the opera-going public.  The stories are larger than life, dare we say “operatic”.  Verdi’s music propels the story sans longueurs and limns the characters in Shakespearean fashion.  His melodies wraps themselves around our hearts and linger in our brains forever after for future savoring.  We have intense arias that tell us what the characters are feeling, impassioned duets, complex ensembles and stirring choruses that comment on the action and fill in the backstory.  What’s not to love?

And we loved us some Verdi the following night when Marco Armiliato conducted a riveting performance of Il Trovatore.  This was a different cast from the one reviewed several months ago and, admittedly, it is harder to hate the nasty Count di Luna when sung by the glamorous Dmitri Hvorostovsky than it was when Lucic sang.  It is a testament to his ability to act with his beautiful baritone that we can accept him as a villain.  And it is a testament to the tender tenor arias of Marcelo Alvarez in the role of Manrico that we can accept Leonora choosing him over the sexy DH.  Sondra Radvanovsky has a big beautiful soprano that fills up the entire house and we just love her wherever and whenever.  Dolora Zajick makes a compelling gypsy Azucena.  That generous bass of Stefan Kocan reappears as Ferrando who is responsible for introducing the backstory in the opening scene.  More credit to him for making this implausible story comprehensible.

The revolving set is grey and spare, serving as castle wall, interior and prison.  Only the gypsy camp has visual interest as a setting for the famous Anvil chorus, stirringly sung by the estimable Met chorus and amply decorated by some bare-chested men swinging the anvils.  Eye candy for us ladies!  David Vicar’s production is only two years old and one expects it to be around for awhile.

(c) meche kroop

MENAGE A TROIS

Le Comte Ory

What seemed like tedious fluff in April 2011 on the stage of The Metropolitan Opera (see review below) seemed just about right for a warm summer evening outdoors on the Lincoln Center Plaza.  Gary Halvorson's direction of the HD could not make a silk purse out of this sow's ear but it did highlight the anachronistic candy colored costumes of Catherine Zuber, the clumsiness of the scene with Countess Adele in bed with Count Ory and Isolier and the distancing strategy of the Bartlett Sher production.  Not trusting the material on its own terms we found the "opera within an opera" concept rather tiresome and the distraction of the stage manager wandering about with his thunder and lightning machines quite annoying.  That being said, we thrilled to the voices, especially the final scene with the aforementioned trio.  We have no complaints about the presence of two Rossini operas within three days!

The exuberant costumes by Catherine Zuber engaged my eye and my ear was charmed by the vocally perfect performances of the charming soprano Diana Damrau, the equally charming tenor Juan Diego Florez and the delightful  mezzo Joyce DiDonato.  So why the tedium?  Was it the lackluster conducting of Maestro Maurizio Benini or, dare I say this, could it be that this is not Rossini at his best?  Quite a bit of the music was recycled from his piece d’occasion “Il Viaggio a Reims”.  It was said in the program notes that the French language does not lend itself to the florid vocal ornamentation as does Italian.  This is simple to understand, but to this pair of ears, there was ornamentation aplenty.

Perhaps it is simply the case of an uninspiring libretto by Eugene Scribe et al.  Not much happens here.  The licentious Comte Ory is bent on seducing women, but particularly the desirable Countess Adele who is cloistered in her castle while her brother is off in the Holy Land to fight in the Crusades.  In Act I he disguises himself as an hermit in a ridiculous beard; in Act II he disguises himself as a nun, along with a troop of knights in similar garb.  Disguises are usually fun.  One thinks of the Count in Il Barbiere di Siviglia disguising himself as a drunken soldier and as a music teacher.  Somehow in that opera there is a lot going on.  There are lots of funny characters doing outrageous things and getting into much mischief.  But in “Le Comte Ory”  it just didn’t tickle my funny bone.

In the penultimate scene the Count winds up in the Countess Adele’s bed along with his rival, his page Isolier, sung ardently by Joyce DiDonato, quite convincing in a pants role.  This reads pretty funny but the scene was clumsily handled, even for comedy.  Perhaps the direction was flawed.  Perhaps it looks better on HD.  The audience laughed; was it embarrassment?  In this day of casual menages a trois this fully clothed trio did not strike me as amusing at all.

There were some arresting musical moments, especially at the climax of Act I when Rossini gives us an a cappella septet.  Secondary roles who added their voices to the mix were Susanne Resmark as the Countess’ companion, Stephane Degout as the Count’s buddy, and Michele Pertusi as his tutor, all roles well sung.

The “concept” of Bartlett Sher’s production was to present the opera with the accoutrements of a 19th c. production.  Chandeliers were hand-cranked in emulation of the Met’s own chandeliers.  The audience was able to glimpse what goes on backstage before the opera itself begins.  This was mildly interesting.  As mentioned above the costumes for the women were spectacular, sticking largely to a rosy palette but varying in period.  I spied some Empire gowns and lots of 18th c. ones.  Extravagant head dresses suggested the Middle Ages.

It appeared that quite a bit of money went into designing and casting this opera.  It seems to me that the money could have been better spent on a different opera.  There are so many excellent operas languishing for want of discovery!

(c) meche kroop