Richard Sasanow - Page 24

Vittorio Grigolo's fans were out in force last week when he took on the star-tenor role of Nemorino in Donizetti's L'ELISIR D'AMORE (THE ELIXIR OF LOVE) at the Met and it seemed like they'd taken a potion of their own.

In THE ORPHIC MOMENT, a “dramatic cantata,” composer-librettist-conductor-poet (phew!) Matthew Aucoin takes an 18th century masterwork, Gluck's ORFEO ED EURYDICE—one of numerous operas based on the Orpheus legend--and knocks it on its ear.

MADAMA BUTTERFLY was never my favorite Puccini until the current production conceived by Anthony Minghella. Before, Butterfly always seemed too submissive, Pinkerton too brutish and their child, well, too cute. Now—particularly with the current cast, headed by the magnificent Kristine Opolais as the young geisha and the dashing Roberto Alagna as the clueless Pinkerton, her American husband--seemed to put my past reservations to rest. The result was a magnificent performance, from beginning to end.

Point/counterpoint: As if to set off its trio of Elizabethan tragedies by Donizetti, the Met is presenting two of the master's comedies. First up: DON PASQUALE, and it was a pip. (The other is L'ELISIR D'AMORE.) Too bad the Met underestimated its appeal, because it had a truncated run of only five performances. Judging by the audience reception, they could have done more--certainly if tenor Javier Camarena was at bat.

Tenor Matthew Polenzani--he of the refined singing, elegant deportment and serious nature--is having a great season at the Met, with major roles in a pair of new productions. First, he was Nadir, whose love for the priestess Leila (Diana Damrau) tempts her to give up her vows in Bizet's LES PECHEURS DE PERLES (THE PEARL FISHERS). Now he's working his mojo on no less than Elisabetta (Elizabeth I, the Virgin Queen of England), in the new production of Donizetti's ROBERTO DEVEREUX at the Met, premiering March 24.

On the surface, LoftOpera and Regina Opera couldn't be more different--the former turning away hipsters in East Williamsburg (call it Bushwick), the latter providing a matinees-only environment for a family audience. But these two Brooklyn institutions do have one important thing in common: They respect the classics (TOSCA and LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, respectively)--do them up simply and well, and reach their audiences without gimmicks (or high prices). And, I found, their performances were more enjoyable than recent big-name outings of the same titles in New York, with performers who stood up well against better known singers.

On the surface, LoftOpera and Regina Opera couldn't be more different--the former turning away hipsters in East Williamsburg (call it Bushwick), the latter providing a matinees-only environment for a family audience. But these two Brooklyn institutions do have one important thing in common: They respect the classics (TOSCA and LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR, respectively)--do them up simply and well, and reach their audiences without gimmicks (or high prices). And, I found, their performances were more enjoyable than recent big-name outings of the same titles in New York, with performers who stood up well against better known names.

Brahms wasn't having a midlife crisis when he composed his masterwork, EIN DEUTSCHES REQUIEM (A GERMAN REQUIEM), his meditation on death. In fact, he was only 33 when he started writing it in 1866 and had written sections of the opening as early as 1861. His reasons for taking on the piece are unclear, though his mentor, Robert Schumann, had died in 1856 (and his mother would die before it was finished), deeply affecting him. Let's just call him “interested in death,” but that doesn't mean there was anything deathly about the performance of the hour-long work at the New York Philharmonic, heard last weekend. Conducted by the great Brahms specialist, Christoph von Dohnanyi, with the ample contributions of the New York Choral Artists, under Joseph Flummerfelt, and soloists Camilla Tilling and Matthias Goerne, the performance was transcendent.

Anna Netrebko came out on stage in a shimmering white and silver gown with matching headband, looking like an Art Deco goddess in a poster by Alfonso Mucha. It's a look that suited her--not only because the Russian soprano has Bellini's NORMA on her Met schedule in the not-too-distant future, but because she's about as close to a goddess as the Met can conjure up these days (with maybe one or two competitors). And the audience ate it up.

Lincoln Center's American Songbook series doesn't usually cross the road to opera-land, but I'm glad it did, when it presented the Ricky Ian Gordon-Leonard Foglia chamber opera A COFFIN IN EGYPT with mezzo extraordinaire Frederica von Stade last week. Performed in Jazz at Lincoln Center's tiny Appel Room, EGYPT brought us up close and personal to von Stade--and her alter-ego here, 90-year-old Myrtle Bledsoe--and proved she still has “it” as a performer.

Grand opera--lavish in scale, setting and voices--certainly has its place, but, oh, the joys of hearing Cavalli and Faustini's bawdy, early baroque charmer LA CALISTO in a theatre with fewer than 100 seats! The Juilliard Opera production not only proved a great showcase for the singers, dancers and instrumentalists involved but for the opera itself, which is still infrequently heard and should be better known.

Take one part “Casablanca,” a taste of Bernstein's CANDIDE, some Alfred Hitchcock and you get Sir Richard Eyre's film noir concept for the Met's new MANON LESCAUT, now set in France in the 1940s, complete with Nazis. Tack on that behind-the-scenes drama of “Roberto Alagna to the rescue”--when tenor Jonas Kaufmann cancelled at the last minute--and add the visual and vocal glamour of soprano Kristine Opolais and you have, well, a messy-but-enjoyable evening at the opera.

It's a shame that Bellini wasn't Donizetti--because the story of LA SONNAMBULA seems to be begging for the full comic treatment and could have been a great companion to L'ELISIR D'AMORE. (I'm not sure how Maria Callas would have felt about changes in one of her great roles.) As it stands, performing the semi-serious work in a concert format--as The Juilliard Opera did last week--is the next best thing, putting the emphasis on the music and the virtuoso singing it calls for and less on the absurd storyline.

Opera for the 21st century is more than setting RUSALKA in a whorehouse, populating RIGOLETTO with a cast of apes or sending MARIA STUARDA to a maximum security prison. It must start with a different vocabulary for the words and music--one that still appeals to traditional audiences while also being true to new listeners. Achieving that goal is not easy. As American Lyric Theater (ALT)--founded by Lawrence Edelson in 2005--puts it, “Great Operas Don't Just Happen.”

There's a great Scottish word that came to mind while I was watching Emmanuel Chabrier's one-act French operetta, UNE EDUCATION MANQUEE (AN INCOMPLETE EDUCATION), this past weekend by Washington, DC's Opera Lafayette at the French Institute-Alliance Francaise in New York. It's “twee,” which roughly translates as “affectedly dainty” or “quaint.” The French don't seem to have an equivalent; the closest I could come up with is “mignon,” which means “cute” and doesn't quite fit the bill for this slight-yet-charming piece of Gallic fluff.

With MARIA STUARDA at the Met, we're back for the second installment of Donizetti's so-called Tudor Trilogy, with ANNA BOLENA (Anne Boleyn) already off to the gallows and ROBERTO DEVEREUX (with Bette Davis and Errol Flynn, it was “Elizabeth and Essex”) still to come. It's the first time the Met is doing all three operas, with the singular soprano Sondra Radvanovsky as Anna, Maria and Elisabetta (in DEVEREUX, next month). Her Anna was grand, but her Maria was even better.

Sometimes, the Metropolitan Opera seems like an endless Puccini festival. It's particularly apparent this season, when top dogs LA BOHEME, TOSCA and MADAMA BUTTERFLY are joined by TURANDOT and MANON LESCAUT, which are not second drawer, though certainly less popular than the first three. (Let's see how that descriptor applies to the latter when Jonas Kaufmann steps on stage for the new production of LESCAUT.)

It seems ironic--to me at least--that New York's venerable City Opera would be returning to life at Jazz at Lincoln Center's Rose Theater, just as the “Prototype: Opera/Theatre/Now” festival was finishing up its run at alternative venues in Manhattan and Brooklyn. Prototype “unleashed a powerful wave of opera-theatre and music-theatre from a new generation of classical and post-classical composers and librettists”--their words, not mine, but I won't dispute it--while City is doing a warhorse.

One more BOHEME? Yet another TOSCA? How about BARBIERE redux? Sometimes the standard repertoire of opera companies seems too standard. That's why it was good to hear that the Met was mounting Bizet's LES PECHEURS DE PERLES for the first time in a century, as a showcase for one of its top divas, Diana Damrau with tenor Matthew Polenzani, one of the company's secret treasures.

No more carping about out-of-tune singing (for the rest of 2015). No more bemoaning opera directors who don't seem to like the art of opera (for the next five minutes). No more worrying whether traditional opera will go the way of all flesh (for the next few days, at least). It's time to give up on my Scrooge tendencies and be thankful for the gifts that opera gave me, in and around New York this past year, alphabetically speaking.