Chabrier's L’Étoile Shines Bright for Austin Lyric Opera!

by Paul E. Robinson

Emmanuel Chabrier’s operetta or opéra-bouffe, L’Étoile (The Star), was a consummate success at its premiere in Paris in 1877; then, it all but disappeared from the repertoire.

John Eliot Gardiner, a celebrated interpreter of Monteverdi and Bach, brought L’Étoile back to life when he mounted a production at the Opéra National de Lyon in 1986. Since then, opera companies all over the world have added this comic gem to their repertoire - one of the latest among them, Austin Lyric Opera. The ALO production which opened January 30th to a near capacity house, was a triumph.

Kevin Patterson, the general director of Austin Lyric Opera, has consistently shown a remarkable flair for making opera entertaining, first and foremost. He understands that in a community without a long operatic tradition and with only three productions a year, he cannot present a heavy-duty 'grand opera' program and expect to sell tickets; rather he must adopt a more populist strategy that 'educates' the audience without appearing to do anything of the sort.

Patterson's apparent strategy notwithstanding, opera and operetta at their best can have a very direct appeal if they are done in a multi-media style that does not hesitate to learn from the likes of Broadway, Hollywood or Cirque du Soleil. Over the last few years, Austin audiences have been charmed by the likes of an Austin-infused production of Die Fledermaus and Rossini’s Cinderella. They have been powerfully moved by Poulenc’s Dialogue of the Carmelites and Verdi’s Rigoletto. With L’Étoile, Patterson has scored again, by wisely mounting a magic production that has already proven itself a huge hit in New York, Montreal, Cincinnati and Glimmerglass.

Outstanding Sets and Costumes

What grabs the audience right from the start in this production are the sets and costumes, originally created by Glimmerglass Opera and the New York City Opera by Andrew Lieberman (sets) and Constance Hoffman (costumes). We know we're in for a night of fun when King Ouf appears as a re-channeling of 'The Little King' of comic strip fame. He is diminutive, sports a ridiculous mustache and wears an ermine robe in the shape of a round lampshade, which drags along the floor behind him. Veteran Jean-Paul Fouchécourt didn’t have to sing a note or say a word to have the audience convulsed in laughter.

Then there's the male chorus, all dressed in black suits and hats, carrying umbrellas. Here again, the way they look and the way they move is, in itself, amusing. Before long we have other characters dressed in the brightest of colors, carrying through the comic strip concept.

As the convoluted, not to say absurd, story of the opera unfolds, we begin to appreciate the fine work of Canadian director Alain Gauthier. He knows all about comic timing and how to be witty, without resorting to slapstick at every turn. It also helps that L’Étoile is 'sung' in the original French with surtitles, while the 'spoken dialogue' is in English with a smattering of French.

I assume that some of the English dialogue was added by recent hands in order to make it palatable and funny for contemporary audiences. In my opinion, even more could have been done in this vein - especially in Act I - to make the dialogue really sparkle. On opening night, Act I had other problems as well. It was slow and some of the ensembles were more than a little rough.

Second and Third Acts Rachet up Music and Comedy

All was forgiven after intermission, however, with the cast settling in and conductor Richard Buckley moving the music along with a little more animation. One could argue that the improvements resulted from better music and more opportunity for comic action in Acts II and III .

One of the highlights of this production was undoubtedly the drunken duet (over multiple glasses of 'green chartreuse') between the King and his astrologer Siroco (Kevin Glavin). Director Alan Gauthier made the most of the already comic difference in size between the King and Siroco and they sang and acted with enormous hilarity. To top it off, their increasing inebriation was brilliantly underscored by the swaying sparkling yellow/green wall of curtains behind them.

As far as I could tell, there was only one local reference in this production; the Mayor appears in the last act, wearing an oversized black Stetson, looking for all the world like a stereotypical Texan.

Chabrier’s music might best be described as Gilbert and Sullivan with a French translation. There are lots of 'rum-te-tum' rhythms à la G & S, but Chabrier’s writing for woodwinds is in another class altogether. It is even beyond Offenbach in its color and complexity. Moreover, Chabrier and his librettists clearly had a gift for expressing humor in music. On the other hand, Chabrier’s melodies are rarely original or memorable. In a routine production, I doubt that the music would stand on its own.

Fun and Fine Voices From Major to Minor

Vocally, this performance of L’Étoile had its glorious moments, but it had weaknesses too. Deborah Domanski, in the trouser role of Lazuli, has a big load to carry and didn’t always rise to the occasion. Her mezzo-soprano voice seems a little light for the role. On the other hand, she handled the comic bits with energy and vivacity. Soprano Nili Riemer as Princess Laoula projected her voice with much greater authority. In a largely slapstick role, bass Kevin Glavin as Siroco nonetheless managed to impress with the richness of his voice. I also have to mention Scott Shipman in the speaking role of the Chief of Police. He was dressed like a toy soldier and walked like one and he made his reports to the king with the most extraordinary accent and timing. Hilarious.

For something more…

The 1986 Opéra de National Lyon production referenced above was recorded for both CD and DVD release. Both versions have long since been deleted from the EMI catalogue, but if you really want to see the DVD, it is available as a rental from Netflix. Unfortunately, the production recorded on DVD pales in comparison to the Glimmerglass-New York-Cincinnati-Austin production, and the DVD is technically inferior to what can be done today.

John Eliot Gardiner loved Chabrier’s music and has done an excellent all-Chabrier CD with the Vienna Philharmonic (DG 477 51).

The big stars love L’Etoile too. Simon Rattle plans to conduct it at the Berlin State Opera this coming May with his wife Magdalena Kožená in the role of Lazuli.

Otto Soglow created the comic strip 'The Little King' in 1931. It first appeared in the New Yorker, and was later picked up by newspapers across the country. It ran until 1975.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar, and Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music, both available at Amazon.com.

Photo (above) by Mark Matson: Left to right Kevin Glavin (Siroco); Deborah Domanski (Lazuli); Jean-Paul Fouchécourt (King Ouf)

Rome: Four North Americans in Two Acts

By Giuseppe Pennisi

This article does do not deal with a Roman revival of Four Saints in Three Acts, the late 1920’s marvelous jewel by Virgil Thompson on a Gertrude Stein libretto. Neither does it review a two-act opera in any conventional sense. This December, four North American composers – three in their 70s and the “kid” about 55 – delighted Roman audiences with two different world premières: a 100-minute one-act children's opera by Philip Glass and a 60-minute tone poem by the MEV (Musica Elettronica Viva ensemble of live electronics, started in 1966 by Frederic Rzweski, Richard Teitelbaum and others – now including also Alvin Curran). The Glass opera is titled Le Streghe di Venezia (The Witches of Venice) and will be a central feature of the Ravenna Festival next Summer; the opera may also travel to the US. The MEV tone poem is called Grande Raccordo Anulare (The Beltway) and will have concert performances in North America. The link between the opera and the tone poem is that they both mirror visions of Italy (as it was) by contemporary American composers.

Le Streghe di Venezia is based on a short novel by Beni Montresor, for several years a key figure of the New York City Opera. An opera-ballet version was presented at La Scala in December 1995, but the original composition was largely modified and not in line with Glass’ intentions. The Roman version is produced by Musica per Roma in the Parco della Musica and mirrors very closely what Glass wanted. The text can be read in several ways: an initiation process of two children to end up on Venice’s throne (e.g. a modern Mozart’s Magic Flute), a Christmas tale (such as Menotti’s Ahmal and the Night Visitors), the fatigue of an old king in a rapidly changing world (like in Berio’s Un Re in Ascolto), the intrigues of both the political and the performing arts’ environment (as in Strauss’ Capriccio). The final aria, by the chamber maid, is sad (La vita è difficile) but with glimmers of hope (un pò di vino rosso fa cantar): in short, life is difficult but a little red wine makes you sing happily. Le Streghe is quite interesting musically: Glass’ minimalism includes also quotations from Mozart and Rossini as well as a bit of live electronics.

The Roman production is also a joy for the eyes: in a small theatre for 700 seats, computerized projections, mimes, acrobats and glittering, colourful costumes make the audience feel that a feast is going on. The stage direction (Giorgio Barberio Corsetti) is fast: although the performance starts at 9 p.m. and ends at nearly 11 p.m., the many children in the audience followed the plot with interest and enjoyed the show. Among the voices, worth mentioning are Carmen Romeu, Anna Goryacheva and two children: Matteo Graziani and Francesco Passaretti alternate in the role of the boy and Maria Luisa Paglione and Daniela Sbrigoli in that of the girl. The Contemporanea Ensemble del Parco della Musica is of high quality.

MEV has a long history: the ensemble was begun one evening in the spring of 1966 by Alan Bryant, Alvin Curran, Jon Phetteplace, Carol Plantamura, Frederic Rzweski (pictured here), Richard Teitelbaum and Ivan Vandor in a room in Rome overlooking the Pantheon. At that time, the Italian capital was a major center for American musicians abroad – more important than Paris and London. To fully grasp the spirit of the time, it is useful to read Marjorie Whright's The Rise and Fall of a La Scala Diva (Janus Publishing Company Ltd, London 2007).

In 1971, when Frederic Rzweski moved into an apartment in New York, a box containing the MEV files was mistaken for trash and thrown into the incinerator chute. Though the group would never be able to play in this remarkable domed temple with a hole in its top, MEV's music right from the start was also totally open, allowing all and everything to come in and seek in every way to get out beyond the heartless conventions of contemporary music. Taking cue from Tudor and Cage, MEV began sticking contact mics to anything that sounded and amplified their raw sounds: bed springs, sheets of glass, tin cans, rubber bands, toy pianos, sex vibrators, and assorted metal junk; a crushed old trumpet, cello and tenor sax kept us within musical credibility, while a home-made synthesizer of some 48 oscillators along with the first Moog synthesizer in Europe gave our otherwise neo-primitive sound an inimitable edge. By 1969, MEV was known everywhere in the world's undergrounds and above ground, too. They had played hundreds of concerts in Europe, made two LPs and had collaborated with Jean-Jacques Lebel, The Living Theater, Pierre Clementi, Michelangelo Pistoletto, Gianni Kounnelis, Simone Forti, members of the Chicago Art Ensemble, Cornelius Cardew's AMM group, the Scratch Orchestra, Nuova Consonanza, Vittorio Gelmetti, Giuseppe Chiari, Kosugi, Ashley, Behrman, Mumma and Lucier. MEV resists retirement and greatly enjoys its one gig a year. Its founding members have each gone on to develop very different but compatible music which in the anarchic MEV tradition stand in strong opposition to the aggressive demands of today's media and marketing moguls.

The initiators of MEV returned to Rome with this brand new Grande Raccordo Anulare – a live electronics tone poem full of nostalgia for Rome in the 60s, a heartfelt homage to the city where they started their unique adventure. It's generous and moving at the same time. It was performed in the auditorium of the Università “La Sapienza” to the enjoyment of young and not-so-young live electronics.

THE PLAY BILL of Le Streghe di Venezia

C. Romeo, A. Goraycheva, G. Bocchino, S. Alberti, M. Graziani, F. Passaretti, M.L. Paglione, D. Sbrigoli, Conductor Tonino Battista Parco della Musica Contemporanea Ensemble, Stage direction and sets Giorgio Barberio Corsetti, Costumes Marina Schindler, Lighting Gianluca Cappelletti, Choreography Julien Lambert, Video Angelo Longo Cantori del Coro Arcobaleno dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia Libretto Beni Montresor , Acrobats. J.Lambert, E. Bettin, D. Sorisi, L. Trefiletti

Szymanowski's Opera "King Roger" Reconsidered

by Paul E. Robinson

Classical Travels
This Week in Spain

King Roger was a real person who reigned in Sicily circa 1130 and whose court was widely recognized for its high level of intellectual knowledge and discourse. Szymanowski's opera King Roger (1926)was inspired by the composer's travels in the Mediterranean region - more specifically, Sicily, where he became fascinated by the unique interplay of the cultures of ancient Greece and the Arab world.

I first came to know King Roger through recordings. It was only recently that I finally saw a live performance - at the venerable Gran Theatre del Liceu in Barcelona, Spain.

One of the main themes in King Roger is borrowed from Euripedes drama "The Bacchae", in which another ruler - King Pentheus - is torn to pieces by followers of the god Dionysus. In the course of writing King Roger - Szymanowski eventually wrote most of the text as well as the music - the work became a series of three tableaus representing encounters between King Roger and Dionysus.

In the first production of King Roger (Warsaw, Poland), of which there is a photograph of the Act One setting in the fine programme booklet for the Liceu Opera production, great care was taken by the set designer to bring to life the historical context of the opera; hence, the audience saw a real church with the figure of Christ looming large at its centre in Act One; a real palace in Act Two; and the ruins of a Greek theatre in Act Three. All of these settings and more are called for in the composer's detailed stage directions.

Abstract Approach Brings Apollo/Dionysus Conflict to Life
For Barcelona's Gran Theatre del Liceu production, British director David Pountney chose to present King Roger in a more abstract way. One set design served for all three acts of the opera: a series of risers upon which most of the action took place. Costumes were non-historical. The men wore black robes or suits. King Roger's wife Roxana wore a red dress of vaguely twentieth century style.

Although this 'abstract' new production, directed by David Pountney and conducted by Josef Pons, was far from faithful to Szymanowski's stated intentions, it nevertheless dealt with the opera's religious, philosophical and psychological elements in thought-provoking ways. The voices and orchestra were first-rate. The production was sung in Spanish with Catalan surtitles.

Pountney's purpose, as clearly stated in the Liceu Opera programme book, was to focus attention on the 'essence' of the opera, which he takes to be Roger's internal struggle between intellect and emotion, or between the Apollonian and the Dionysian elements of human nature. By extrapolation, this is a struggle shared by all mankind and so need not be limited by time and place.

Pountney's production not only explores the ideas and emotions of Szymanowski's characters, but attempts to illuminate the subtext of the composer's lyrics; for example, in his first appearance, the Shepherd/Dionysus character immediately arouses the interest of King Roger's wife, Roxana. Roger himself is at once repelled and fascinated by the pagan and blasphemous message transmitted by this charismatic stranger. He orders the Shepherd's arrest and then, almost immediately, rescinds the order.

In Pountney's production, there is a moment of extraordinary power when Roger approaches the Shepherd from behind and encircles him with his arms as if to take him into custody. In that very moment the 'capture' becomes a depiction of homosexual carnality. Roger has succumbed to desires he didn't even know he had and is henceforth more conflicted than ever about this man.

Throughout the opera, King Roger is shadowed by his advisor Edrisi, an 'Arabian sage'. Edrisi is the philosophical counterweight to Roger's wife Roxana. She is all about intuition and passion, while Edrisi is a man of reason and, in a way, Roger's conscience or higher self. Ultimately, Dionysus prevails and leads his followers, including Roxana to experience the ultimate rites of his sect. In the opera, Roger and Edrisi experience them too and return, almost destroyed by the experience. They stagger onstage, covered in blood, and Edrisi, the voice of reason and Roger's conscience, is near death.

Are we to think then that Dionysus has won in the end?
Not so fast! As the sun rises behind him, King Roger turns, and offers himself up to it - an affirmation of the ultimate power of Apollo and reason. He has been tempted by the mysteries of Dionysus, he has been changed by the experience - they are after all a celebration of a vital part of human nature - and he has emerged a stronger and wiser man.

It must be stressed that while the opera begins with an affirmation of Christian worship, Christian faith is not really the central issue. At the end of the opera, King Roger clearly does not reaffirm his faith in Christ and Christian values, but rather in the older and more fundamental Apollonian ideal. For another example of how these themes have been explored in profound ways by another twentieth century composer, I suggest readers view Benjamin Britten's opera Death in Venice.

Physical and Vocal Demands of Production Well Met
While a discussion of ideas is necessary to any appreciation of Szymanowski's King Roger, it would not be a work worth reviving, were the music not extraordinary. The opera opens with old-fashioned choral music to suggest the atmosphere and tradition of Christian church music. It then goes on to more chromatic music, obviously influenced by the likes of Debussy, Ravel and Scriabin, with elements of Middle Eastern music as well. A similar blend of sources can be found in parts of Strauss' Salome.

The main characters in Pountney's King Roger are called upon to convey a vast range of ideas and emotions through their voices and through a demanding series of physical movements and so must be consummate singing actors. At the Gran Teatro del Liceu, with eight performances of the opera being given over a period of about two weeks, two casts are required.

In the production I saw, the role of King Roger was sung by the fine American baritone Scott Hendricks. I was interested to read in the programme that he has also done Death in Venice at the Liceu. Hendricks was matched every step of the way by the excellent German tenor Will Hartmann (Shepherd/Dionysus), making an auspicious debut at the Liceu. Hartmann faced the additional challenge of being required to don a woman's dress at one point in the opera, and later, of having his entire body painted in gold. The role of Roxana, in this production, was taken by the celebrated German soprano Anne Schwanewilms.

The busy chorus was wonderful. Maestro Josep Pons, associate principal conductor of the Liceu and also director of the Orquesta Nacional de España, gave us a sensitive and compelling reading of King Roger.

Painting with Light and Color Transforms Simple Set
I have described director David Pountney's approach to King Roger as 'abstract', and reported that the single set used was little more than a series of risers. There was, however, considerably more to the 'visual' side of this production than that series of risers, thanks to the wonderfully creative imaginations of set designer Raimund Bauer and lighting designer Fabrice Kebour, who was making his debut at the Liceu.

Bauer's risers had openings through which characters appeared and disappeared and the steps seemed to move as if characters themselves. The lighting introduced colours and patterns that played upon the risers, closely relating to the flow of the music and the drama. The result was substantial music drama in which all the elements worked together based on a common understanding of the text and the music.

King Roger will never be a popular opera - it has too much intellectual content and too little commercial appeal for that - but it deserves to be performed more often, especially in productions as serious and resourceful as this one.


Paul E. Robinson is the author of Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar, and Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music, both available at Amazon.com.

Fear and Faith: Austin Lyric Opera Does Justice to Poulenc's Dialogues

Review by Paul E. Robinson


Classical Travels
THIS WEEK IN AUSTIN

In a world gone mad, it makes sense to be afraid, but it is the ultimate test of character to get beyond fear and take a stand for what one truly believes. This is the argument of Poulenc’s opera, Dialogues of the Carmelites. Premiered in 1957, it deals specifically with the fate of a group of Carmelite nuns during the French Revolution, but its theme, at once inspirational and unsettling, is universal and still relevant today.

The new Austin Lyric Opera production of Dialogues of the Carmelites makes a powerful case for including this opera in the repertoire.

Dialogues moves very slowly and deliberately through its first hour or so – think Parsifal, which unfolds with similar deliberation – but if one allows oneself to be drawn into this world of faith and fear, the payoff is nothing less than devastating.

From a musical point of view, the opera is a peculiar amalgam of Debussy’s Pelléas and Stravinsky’s Oedipus Rex. The Dialogues score seems to meander and the orchestral sonorities are often acerbic, but Poulenc created exactly the musical language he needed to make this particular drama fresh and credible, just as he did in Gloria, which similarly brings something new and beautiful to liturgical music.

In this production, Austin Lyric Opera stage director Erik Einhorn and scenic designers Harry Frehner and Scott Reid bring Poulenc’s opera to life with a minimalist imaginative touch that exquisitely complements this music.

The sets and props are sparse and appropriate, placed and moved without obstructing the narrative flow. Lighting designer Shawn Kaufman also deserves credit for his deft employment of rear lighting. The use of black curtains, mysteriously opening and closing, served to underscore the spiritual elements of the drama. The production was created originally for the Calgary Opera, but what we saw in Austin was perfectly suited to the work and to the house.

The music onstage is dominated by the women (photo: above right) who sing the roles of the Carmelite nuns. Quite simply, they were first-rate. For an opening night, the level of ensemble precision was remarkable.

It is somewhat unfair to single out individuals in such an ensemble effort, but Sheila Nadler as the dying Prioress in Act One – she has sung this role in more than twenty productions of the opera - gave a heart-rending performance, and Jennifer Check as the new Prioress sang with moving eloquence toward the end of Act Two. Emily Pulley (photo: right) as Blanche has the largest role and her personal crisis is at the heart of the opera. She gave a compelling performance and her voice is clearly first-class. Pulley was originally to have played Madame Lidoine, the new Prioress, but the change in casting proved quite satisfactory. Richard Buckley conducted with authority and sensitivity.

Poulenc’s Dialogues of the Carmelites was Austin Lyric Opera’s last production of the season, following on equally fine presentations of Verdi’s Rigoletto and Rossini’s Cinderella. For next season general director Kevin Patterson has chosen Puccini’s La Bohème, Humperdinck’s Hansel and Gretel, and a real novelty, Chabrier’s The Star (L’Étoile).

Paul E. Robinson is the author of Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar, and Sir Georg Solti: His Life and Music, both available at Amazon.com.

Photos by Mark Matson

Classical Music Blogs

Lyubov Petrova Sensational Gilda in Austin Lyric Opera's Rigoletto!

Review by Paul E. Robinson

Classical Travels
THIS WEEK IN TEXAS

After more than 150 years, Rigoletto remains a powerful opera. The characters continue to resonate through the ages because of the universality of their situations and their all too human qualities. In a now legendary production for the English National Opera in 1983, director Jonathan Miller moved the opera from Sixteenth Century Mantua to Little Italy in New York in the mid-Twentieth Century. The story was transformed into an operatic equivalent of the film The Godfather. Audiences loved it and so did the critics.

At the age of thirty-eight, Verdi had already written thirteen operas. He was a well-established and experienced man of the theater and on the verge of writing the operas which would make him a figure of international renown.

Based on a play by Victor Hugo, Verdi’s opera Rigoletto was an unlikely choice for a composer in quest of a major success, and succeeded almost in spite of itself. At its opening in 1851, many found it “repulsive and brutal”; others recognized the originality of the music and the depth of characterization. For a general audience there were several hit “tunes”:“Questa o quella” and “La donna è mobile” for the tenor and “Caro nome” for the soprano. All three quickly became famous showstoppers.

Vintage Rigoletto Resonates with Contemporay Audience
In the current Austin Lyric Opera (ALO) production at the Long Center, director Kay Walker Castaldo gives us vintage Rigoletto, as traditional a production as you are likely to see anywhere – with sets from the Cincinnati Opera and costumes from the Minnesota Opera. Castaldo’s straightforward, but compelling production is proof that the greatest operas do not need to be updated to speak to contemporary audiences. What they do need is careful preparation and a team of dedicated artists. Fortunately, for Austin audiences, such a team was assembled by ALO general director Kevin Patterson, and the results are extraordinary.

Captivating Performances and Superb Ensembles
All three principals in the cast – baritone Todd Thomas (Rigoletto), tenor Chad Shelton (the Duke of Mantua), and soprano Lyubov Petrova (Gilda) – were making their Austin debuts in this production, and each one of them emerged triumphant.

Most impressive of all was Petrova, a young Russian-born singer obviously on the verge of a major career. She made her debut at the Met in 2001 and has sung a variety of roles there since, but she has also been building her repertoire through appearances at many of the regional opera companies in the U.S.

As Gilda, Petrova not only had total command of the coloratura requirements of the role, but also demonstrated remarkable control of phrasing and volume. In the opera’s final scene, as she lies dying, she makes a diminuendo on a long held note that is simply amazing, both in terms of musicianship and characterization.

Let it be said too, that Petrova was very much a team player in this production. She has star quality, but took great care to blend her sound in the great Quartet into the whole, and interacted beautifully in scenes with her father, Rigoletto. Their Act 2 duet was extraordinarily moving.

In the title role of Rigoletto, Todd Thomas vividly conveyed both the bitterness of this wretched man and his overwhelming love for his daughter. His voice was consistently strong and expressive, and his acting skills helped to heighten and move the drama forward.

The Duke of Mantua gets some of the most crowd-pleasing music in the opera, but he remains the villain of the piece and a thoroughly despicable human being. From the opening scene, Chad Shelton established himself as arrogant and nasty and tossed off his demanding music with aplomb. In “La donna è mobile” his top notes were a little thin, but otherwise his vocal work was very good.

Castaldo’s Direction and Buckley’s Conducting Empower Cast and Orchestra
In a traditional production such as this, the director’s work often goes unnoticed, but clearly Castaldo had a great deal to do with how the singers moved and interacted with one another. In this opera, exaggeration is the road to ruin. The piece is already melodrama and restraint pays great dividends. Wild gestures or gratuitous sobbing come across as superficial. I suspect it was Castaldo who kept things under control in this production, encouraging the performers to call up emotions from within themselves, inspired by Verdi’s music.

And that brings us to the man who really made it all work - conductor Richard Buckley. It is a pleasure to watch a master at work and Buckley is certainly that. He knows this music from a lifetime of experience, and in rehearsal he is obviously a stern taskmaster. The musical preparation was obvious in the near-impeccable work of the chorus and in the fantastic playing of the orchestra.

Buckley unleashed the power of Verdi’s score. He spun out the beautiful long lines and he accompanied the singers with an uncanny feeling for the perfect balance between voices and orchestra. He obviously loves the score and revels in its inspired oddities; for example, the strangeness of the solo cello and solo double bass in the chilling scene between Rigoletto and the assassin Sparafucile, and the wordless chromatic choral writing which gives the final scene much of its horror.

Puzzling Act 1 Scene 2 Set Raises Distracting Questions
Sets and costumes were generally very good, especially in Act 3 (an inn near the river), but the set for Rigoletto’s house and Ceprano’s estate (Act 1, scene 2), I found puzzling. We need to get a sense that Gilda is being held in confinement by her father; instead, she appeared to be living in some kind of enormous palace. Perhaps court jesters in Mantua were doing rather well after all, but such a suggestion undercuts the story. Frankly, I couldn’t tell which was Rigoletto’s place and which was Ceprano’s, and it does matter to the sense of the opera.

The cutaway wall facing the audience also troubled me. The walls are cut away to enable us to see inside rooms and courtyards, and yet characters were still allowed to use that cutaway as a walkway on and off stage. It just didn’t work for me.

Long Center Acoustics Work for Opera!
In some recent Austin Symphony Orchestra reviews, I have complained about the acoustics in the Long Center. When an orchestra is playing in the pit rather than on the stage, however, I must testify that the acoustics are wonderful. I sat in the tenth row of the Orchestra section for this production, and the sound was ideal. The instruments and voices all projected well, and the balances were excellent. The timbres of the various instruments were natural and full, and one could hear a very wide range of dynamics. I have heard three Austin Lyric Opera productions in the Long Center – each time from a different location – and have had the same general impression. Not a thing needs to be changed for the opera acoustics, but I would advise the Austin Symphony to experiment with different seating, perhaps bringing the orchestra further forward on the stage to give the sound a livelier presence in the hall.

Vision, Imagination and Box Office Savvy
Finally, I cannot praise enough the great work general director Kevin Patterson is doing in bringing quality opera productions to Austin. These are tough economic times, and by all accounts they may get even tougher. If anybody can keep the ALO’s head above water, I am confident that it is Kevin Patterson. He obviously chooses repertoire with an eye on the box office, but often gives it a different angle - as in the Austin-oriented Die Fledermaus or the Hollywood-themed La Cenerentola. Even overly-familiar operas gain enormously from the choice of exciting new talents such as Lyubov Petrova. And finally, this season, the ALO was able to give its patrons a new hall, which turns out to be excellent for opera. Kevin Patterson certainly knows how to put it all together.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar and Sir Georg Solti: his Life and Music, both available at http://www.amazon.com.

Photos by Mark Matson: Rigoletto and Gilda; Rigoletto; Richard Buckley

Classical Music Blogs

Austin 'Salon Concerts' Celebrates Violin & Cello Reunion

Classical Travels with Paul E. Robinson

THIS WEEK IN TEXAS

Every month, forty or so music-lovers gather in one of the finest private homes in Austin to listen to chamber music: this is Salon Concerts, now in its nineteenth season.

Salon Concerts was created by two of the finest musicians in the area – violinist Robert Rudié and pianist/composer Kathryn Mishell. As Robert approaches his 90th year, he continues to appear as a violinist in the series – at this concert he played excerpts from Bach’s Sonata No. 1 for Solo Violin with wonderful tone and expression - but more and more of the artistic direction has been taken over by his wife, Kathryn. I joined the group for their latest soirée called Instrumental Magnetism, and enjoyed it immensely, not least of all for the chance to hear a new work by Kathryn.

Made by the Same Master, Violin & Cello Notably Drawn Together
The piece was called "Duo for Violin and Cello: Reunion," and there is a fascinating back story. In the 1860s in Paris, one of the great makers of string instruments was Gand Frères. Of the many instruments produced by the company over the years, two of them found their way to Austin. There was a violin owned by Brian Lewis, a professor of violin at the University of Texas, and a cello owned by Douglas Harvey, principal cellist of the Austin Symphony and the Austin Lyric Opera. In fact, the two instruments were part of a set of four commissioned by Napoleon III and all were made from the same piece of wood!

While the two Austin musicians knew each other, neither knew until recently that the other owned a Gand. Lewis and Mishell had the brilliant idea of bringing the two musicians together to play chamber music on their “Gands.” But more than that, Mishell would bring them together to play music especially written for them and their precious instruments.

Against this background, composer Mishell set to work. As a unifying musical device she used the familiar French nursery song"Frère Jacques," thus indicating 1) the birthplace of the instruments - Paris, France, 2) the makers of the instruments - Gand Frères, and 3) the fact that in being created from the same piece of wood, the two instruments are natural brothers (frères).

Kathryn went a step further. She told me that since the sibling instruments were born in 1863 and 'grew up' in France, they would have known and 'sung' "Frère Jacques" as 'children', as the first publication of the words and music together dates from 1860.

Lewis and Harvey gave a fine performance of the new piece, showing off their Gands and their own considerable talents. Lewis even brought along some coins from the time of Napoleon III to show audience members, in the spirit of the occasion.

Vitizslava Kaprálová's Rarely Performed "Elegy" Rates More Play
The first half of the evening’s program included an impassioned performance of Bohuslav Martinu’s "Three Madrigals" by Lewis and Bruce Williams, principal violist of the Austin Symphony. Lewis and pianist Rick Rowley then presented the rarely-heard "Elegy" by Martinu student Vitizslava Kaprálová. Mishell is well-known for championing women composers – her KMFA radio series Into the Light won a Communicator Award of Distinction last year – and tries to work at least one piece by a woman into each Salon Concerts program.

Kaprálová was a gifted young Czech composer destined to become a major figure. Sadly, her life was cut short by tuberculosis at the age of twenty-five in 1940. The "Elegy" is a beautiful piece and deserves to be better-known. For more on Kaprálová visit the website of the Kaprálová Society. The society is based in Toronto and includes on its advisory board two old friends of mine: pianist Antonin Kubalek and conductor/broadcaster Kerry Stratton.

A Joyous Evening of Intimate Music-making...
The major work on the program was Brahms’ Piano Trio No. 1 in B major Op. 8, played by Lewis, Harvey and Rowley. I prefer the opening tune played with a little more restraint so that one can fully savor its breadth and nobility, but in this performance enthusiasm and the sheer joy of making music carried everything before it. After all, the tempo marking is ‘Allegro con brio’.

I think, however, that I have the composer on my side for the tempo in the slow movement. Brahms marked it ‘Adagio’ and ‘four to the bar’, but pianist Rick Rowley started off at what seemed to me double the tempo, with far too much volume. Surely, those opening chords are meant to suggest almost a suspension of time, just hanging in the air, at a distance, and barely audible. Admittedly, this is difficult to achieve in the living room of a private home - but it can be done.

...Followed by Mixing, Mingling and Fine Food & Wine
As always, the music-making was followed by some world-class cuisine, prepared by the ever-resourceful Chef Pascal.

If I am giving the impression that Salon Concerts is some kind of elitist enterprise, bear in mind that the price tag for the concert and the food was all of $35. Consider also that Salon Concerts manages to raise enough money to maintain its educational activities, in addition to its intimate concert series; the CHAMPS program provides weekly chamber music coaching to over sixty young musicians in Austin’s middle and high schools every year.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar and Sir Georg Solti: his Life and Music, both available at http://www.amazon.com. For more about Paul E. Robinson please visit his website.

Blog photo by Marita.

J. Robert Oppenheimer as an Operatic Character in John Adams' Dr. Atomic

Classical Travels with Paul E. Robinson
THIS WEEK IN TEXAS


I went to the Met HD Live at the new Cinemark complex in Cedar Park, one of Austin’s northern suburbs. Only ten people showed up for John Adam’s Dr. Atomic. Perhaps not surprising for a contemporary piece with no big names in the cast, but cause for concern about the future of this project. More about that later.

Timely Topic: A World in Crisis & the Question of Morality
Whatever else one may say about the Dr. Atomic it served the admirable purpose of reminding us that we live under the shadow of the atom bomb and that nuclear annihilation is only an irrational finger on the trigger away. Adams’ opera deals with the first test firing of the bomb in Los Alamos, New Mexico July 16, 1945. J. Robert Oppenheimer was the director of the Manhattan Project which developed the bomb and his anguish about the morality of the project is the focus of the opera. The leading characters in addition to Oppenheimer are his wife Kitty, their American Indian maid Pasqualita and another scientist even more troubled than Oppenheimer, Edward Teller.

But while the subject matter is very timely – concern continues to rise all over the world about possible development of nuclear weapons in Iran, the sanity of Kim Jong Il in North Korea and the shaky political situation in Pakistan – I am not convinced that Adams and his librettist Peter Sellars made the right choices. To bring to life the tragic figure Oppenheimer really was it is necessary to follow his life after the development of the atom bomb. That’s when doubt and remorse set in and his behavior and questionable past even led Washington politicians to destroy his reputation. He died essentially a broken man. There is plenty of evidence that Oppenheimer associated with members of the communist Party. What’s more both his wife and brother were members. Nonetheless, Oppenheimer was chosen to head up the most sensitive wartime program involving national security. In Dr. Atomic we get only a partial view of the man and not enough of him to carry the opera.

Dr. Atomic? Not Enough of Oppenheimer’s Life in this Opera!
Looking at the story from another point of view, it could be argued that it is hardly fair to blame Oppenheimer and his colleagues for the development of the bomb and for the horrors that followed when bombs were dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Adams and Sellars clearly take sides in this matter by using the Los Alamos badge photos of all the scientists involved as the equivalent of police mug shots to vilify them. But the scientists involved in the Manhattan Project were basically ordered by the President and the Congress to develop an atom bomb and to do it as quickly as possible. If anyone is to blame for the bomb and how it was used, it is the politicians from Truman on down. And yet there is not a single politician in the opera, nor does anyone seem to be in contact with one. Very strange.

Natural Bedmates: Politics & War Conceive Atom Bomb!
What was the motivation for the development of the bomb? Why did they do it? After the Nazis had been defeated in Europe early in 1945, the world turned its attention to defeating the Japanese. But this war was much more uncertain and most politicians believed that it could drag on for years and that many more people would lose their lives. If it could be ended quickly many of those lives would be saved; hence, the haste to develop the bomb. This issue is hardly touched on in the opera. Instead, the opera focuses on the creation and use of atomic weapons as a difficult moral issue. But to my mind, whether that can be done without touching on war strategy or the role of the politicians is doubtful.

Operatic Style, the Meaning of it all, and Some Inspired new Arias
Dr. Atomic is not primarily a political or philosophical treatise or even a documentary; it is a work of art. Adams and Sellars draw on diaries kept by some of the participants but they rely more on poetry by Donne, Beaudelaire and Muriel Rukeyser as well as lines from the Hindu epic the Bhagavad Gita.

In operatic terms much of the discussion between characters onstage is on the level of everyday speech, recitative-style, but when the characters are alone they tend to be given extended arias with poetic texts. With this procedure Adams takes the “story” out of place and time into a more abstract and universal milieu. The characters are seen ruminating not about the tactical use of nuclear weapons to win the war nor even about the use of nuclear weapons generally but about the meaning of it all, the ultimate philosophical questions.

Fair enough. Development of weapons capable of wiping out civilization as we know it easily gives rise to such questions. But from an artistic point of view, what does the borrowing of lines from Donne, etc. do for the success of the opera? The answer is a great deal in some instances. Adams’ setting of Donne’s sonnet “Batter my heart, three person’d God” at the end of Act I is surely one of the great set pieces written by any composer in the past twenty years. But elsewhere, especially in Kitty Oppenheimer’s “arias” I felt that the composer had lost his way.

Full Effect of Atom Bomb’s Aftermath Diminished by Artistic Choice
It is surely a major fault of the opera that nearly the whole of Act II seems to be about the weather. Characters talk endlessly about the storm interfering with the test. It is obviously getting on their nerves. And ours too. In an opera about big ideas – very big ideas – it makes no sense to spend so much time discussing the weather.

But am I missing the point? Surely the weather is a metaphor for the war, the troubled minds of the scientists and the military men, etc. It is also a device to build tension. Early on opera composers learned that there is nothing like thunder and lightning on stage to bedazzle the public. It is such an old and hoary device one is amazed that a composer as experienced as Adams would be caught using it.

To my mind we can only let Adams get away with it if there is a real payoff. In this case, it has to be the test itself, the explosion of the first atom bomb, immortalized in film footage we have all seen over and over. But the site of that monstrous mushroom cloud surely remains as frightening as it was the first time we saw it. But wait. This iconic image is not used in the opera. We don’t even get a blinding flash of light. Instead, while Oppenheimer and his colleagues wearing goggles and other protective gear stare out at the audience/test site we get words being spoken in Japanese, presumably by some of the victims of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, and we see projected translations. The connection is made between what Oppenheimer and his team created at Los Alamos and how it was used. We are left to ponder the Faustian connection between ultimate knowledge and soul-selling.

But as I mentioned earlier, Oppenheimer and his work had a context in which his country was engaged in a life and death struggle, and in which many Americans in elective office were agonizing over the use of nuclear weapons. And if one chooses to concentrate on the role of one man – J. Robert Oppenheimer – in this project, we need a far more comprehensive picture of the man than Adams and Sellars provide.

Fine Voices, Good Conducting, and More Technical Problems
For the record, Canadian baritone Gerald Finley sang very well indeed as Oppenheimer and Alan Gilbert making his Met debut was in total command of the complex score. The young American conductor takes over next season as music director of the New York Philharmonic.

Technical problems continue to be an issue at these Met broadcasts. In two different theaters I have had to go in search of a technician to turn up the volume, on another occasion to turn down the house lights, and on yet another to reset the satellite receiver when the broadcast was interrupted. The problem is that in multiplex theaters there is no projectionist in each theater so there is no one on site to rectify problems. And in spite of all the hoopla about surround sound in these theaters the audio quality for the Met broadcasts is awful. Voices come across quite well but the orchestral sound lacks weight and depth. EMI is now releasing some of the Met broadcasts from last season. I will be interested to hear if these DVDs provide better sound than we heard in the theaters.

A ‘Good Thing’, But Will it Last?
The Met HD Live project is a wonderful innovation but it is not where it needs to be if it is going to be of lasting artistic value. It worries me that so few people were in the theater for Dr. Atomic. I heard that at a repeat showing of Salome at one of the Austin theaters – with Karita Mattila giving a performance of staggering quality – hardly anyone showed up. The technical problems need to be addressed but much more needs to be done on the marketing side too. When the novelty wears off – and that appears to be starting to happen – there is work to be done at the local level to raise awareness and interest. In my experience, there is no signage for Met HD Live showings in the theaters themselves, let alone any local advertising. That is a recipe for disaster down the road.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar and Sir Georg Solti: his Life and Music, both available at http://www.amazon.com/. For more about Paul E. Robinson please visit his website at http://www.theartoftheconductor.com/.

Austin Lyric Opera Goes Hollywood!

Classical Travels with Paul E. Robinson
THIS WEEK IN TEXAS



Austin Lyric Opera may not be able to afford the most famous singers but it invariably provides first-class entertainment. They’ve done it again with the current production of Rossini’s comic opera La Cenerentola which opened this past Saturday at the Long Center for the Performing Arts.

Garnett Bruce is the stage director and he created this production for Lyric Opera of Kansas City in 2004. It moves the well-known Cinderella story from Italy to 1930s Hollywood and the world of movie-making. From beginning to end in this production we are immersed in the fantasy world of fame and fortune. The fairy tale search for a royal wife becomes a search for a new leading lady in this updated telling of the story. With surprisingly little doctoring of the libretto and none at all of the glorious music, Rossini’s classic romp comes to life once again, and I think the greatest operatic showman of them all would have loved it.

The gist of the revised story line is acted out in mime while the orchestra plays the overture. Without any contrived additional dialogue we get the idea and the opera unfolds in pretty much its usual fashion. Musically, the production was well in hand with Robert Tweten wielding the baton. This young man has a remarkable flair for Rossini, invariably finding the right balance between singers and orchestra and capturing all the wit and sparkle in the score. He also had the courage and the skill to ‘press the pedal to the metal,’ as it were, with some blazing fast tempos. This fine cast and orchestra had apparently been rehearsed within an inch of their lives and in this opening night performance, they responded to Tweten’s beat with enthusiasm and musicality.

But there can be no La Cenerentola without a great leading lady. The role of Cinderella requires a great comedienne and a mezzo-soprano with mastery of bel canto lyricism and virtuosity. Sandra Piques Eddy may not have erased my personal memories of Cecilia Bartoli’s Cinderella in the near-legendary Houston Grand Opera production of a few years back; nevertheless, she was superb. Her voice is rich and full from top to bottom and she knocked off the technical stuff with almost effortless mastery. Her acting was somewhat less impressive. She handled the transformation from servant to star with conviction, but often seemed less involved than her colleagues. Perhaps director Garnett Bruce simply didn’t give her enough bits of business.

Not that the production wasn’t ‘busy’ enough! Bruce’s direction created a convincing illusion that the backstage lot at “Palace Pictures” was teeming with a ‘cast of thousands,’ and each person who showed up on the ‘set’ came to life as a distinctive character. While the inclusion of a couple of Marx brothers was fun, however, Bruce might have worked a little harder to make them more like the people they were supposed to be. Harpo could have been busier annoying people or blowing his horn and Groucho could have at least walked like Groucho. In the dance rehearsal scene – choreographed a la Busby Berkeley - the costumes of the chorus-line girls were appropriately ‘over the top’ and the dancing of the male group was amusingly inept.

Amongst the cast I would single out Cara Johnston and Liz Cass as Cinderella’s sisters, for both their vocal and histrionic efforts. They sang beautifully, their antics were hilarious, and their zany attire certainly added to the fun! Steven Condy as their father, Mr. Magnifico, practically cornered the market on the funny business in this production with endless mugging and all sorts of physical comedy. Tenor Michele Angelini as film director Don Ramiro looked every inch a 1930s Hollywood star with enough grease on his hair to lubricate a fleet of eighteen-wheelers. He was light on his feet too, sang with control, and his exposed top notes were generally ‘spot-on.’ John Boehr as Dandini – Ramiro’s chauffeur in this version – was funny and appealing and Kristopher Irmiter as the film producer Alidoro looked the part and sang with authority.

General Director Kevin Patterson never forgets that he is in the entertainment business; his Austin-oriented Die Fledermaus from last season was a great triumph and this fresh and funny version of La Cenerentola was not far behind.

Paul E. Robinson is the author of Herbert von Karajan: the Maestro as Superstar and Sir Georg Solti: his Life and Music, both available at http://www.amazon.com/. For more about Paul E. Robinson please visit his website at http://www.theartoftheconductor.com/

Blog Photos: Mark Matson