The Siege of Calais, English Touring Opera, Hackney Empire, March 2013

This is stirring stuff. Although Donizetti’s L’assedio di Calais (The Siege of Calais) with its unsatisfactory third act is rarely performed, James Conway’s production, which eliminates Act III and its happy ending, is a revelation.

Rodin: The Burghers of Calais

This opera, which immediately followed Lucia di Lammermoor, deals with real historical events. In 1346, towards the start of the Hundred Years War, England’s King Edward III besieged Calais, and in 1347 the siege was still in place. The history is disputed but this opera is based on Pierre du Belloy’s patriotic 1765 play Le siège de Calais, where in order to raise the siege the king demands the city turn over seven of its leading citizens to certain death. Six volunteers, including the mayor and his son, come forth and their resolute bravery so impressed Edward’s mother Queen Isabella that she pleaded for their pardon. The king acceded and Rodin’s sculpture The Burghers of Calais, celebrating their selfless act, can be seen today in Westminster.

Aurelio in enemy territory, all images ETO/ RichardHubertSmith

In this production the action starts during the overture with the mayor’s son Aurelio foraging for food and being temporarily captured by the enemy. Towards the end he defiantly rejects the king’s demands for the slaughter of noble hostages, but his father Eustace insists on sacrifice lest everyone die of starvation. In the absence of Act III, though two of its better numbers are included in the first two acts, we see the six burghers trudging off to their death.

Aurelio with father, wife and baby

After the stage calls, cheers and bravos, just as everyone was starting to leave, the orchestra suddenly struck a lighter mood with ballet music from Act III, and we all stepped out into a cold night with a warm feeling of having seen a memorable performance of this little known opera.

Designs by Samal Blak, well lit by Ace McCarron, bring the action into the twentieth century, and Jeremy Silver’s conducting brought out the life and energy of Donizetti’s score. Eddie Wade, whom I last saw as a fine Gunther in The Ring, portrayed a noble mayor, and Paula Sides sang strongly in the soprano role of Aurelio’s wife. The chorus was excellent and there were fine performances from the supporting cast, Andrew Glover in particular.

Six honourable victims

But the singer that made this a knock-out was Australian mezzo Helen Sherman as Aurelio. Before she started singing, her convincing mannerisms and body language made me think she was a man, and she gave a stunning portrayal of the role. The defiant aria in Act I, and in Act II the duet with his wife, the rejection of the enemy, and the farewell aria to his baby were riveting. Helen Sherman’s mezzo voice is world class, and a glance at her website shows she is singing a huge range of different roles — I look forward to hearing her again.

Congratulations to the ETO. This is unmissable, and if it were in London for a second night I’d go again.

Performances continue on tour at: Exeter Northcott, 22nd Mar; Norwich Theatre Royal, 27th Mar; York Theatre Royal, 13th Apr; Snape Maltings Concert Hall, 20th Apr; Buxton Opera House, 27th Apr; Everyman Theatre, Cheltenham, 2nd May; Warwick Arts Centre, 11th May; Perth Festival, Perth Theatre, 16th May; Cambridge Arts Theatre, 21st May — for details click here.

Maria Stuarda, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, January 2013

Finally the Met have staged Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda, an 1835 opera based on the play by Schiller written in 1800, where Mary Queen of Scots meets Elizabeth I of England. The meeting never took place, but the play makes for super drama, and the opera provides for some wonderful singing, with the two queens backed up and egged on by Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester, William Cecil, chief advisor to Queen Elizabeth, and George Talbot, English statesman and keeper of Mary Stuart.

Meeting of the queens, all images MetOpera/ Ken Howard

In this tale it is Leicester, sung with great warmth by Matthew Polenzani, who brings the two queens together. His duets with both were very touching, as was his fury and dismay at Mary’s execution. Matthew Rose portrayed an avuncular Talbot whose prayerful duet with Mary in Act II came over very powerfully, and Joshua Hopkins sang Cecil with body language that bespoke great concern with State security (and remember that in real history Mary was caught out when the English secret service deciphered her coded messages).

Elizabeth in Act II

As Elizabeth, the young South African soprano Elza van den Heever took the role seriously enough to shave her head, but the characterization she gave in Scene 1 made me think of a seventeen year old girl trying to impress and throw her weight around. Vocally she failed to command, though she improved in the later scenes. I found the characterization a bit puzzling because director David McVicar said he wanted the queens to portray the ages they would have been at the time. Fact: Elizabeth lived from 1533 to 1603, being queen from 1558, and Mary was born in 1542 and executed in 1587, so the imaginary first encounter would have been in about 1575 when Elizabeth was 42, and Mary 33.

Mary and Leicester

The point where the opera really took off was when Joyce DiDonato appeared in Scene 2, and her soliloquy envying the clouds that can skim off to France was exquisitely delivered. As the English queen approached in a hunting party her concern was dramatic and palpable, and after their duet, her defiance, with its famous vil bastarda, was riveting. In Act II her prayer, delivered with huge sincerity, was a touching moment, and in her final lines to Cecil requesting that Elizabeth not be punished by remorse, her words floated on the air like birds on the wing singing of peace and reconciliation.

Maurizio Benini in the orchestra pit gave a lyrical intensity to Donizetti’s music, and this cinema screening suggests that David McVicar’s production, with set and costume designs by John Macfarlane, is very effective with a dramatic final moment as Mary climbs to the scaffold and the executioner awaits. Congratulations to the Met for producing the opera, and to Joyce DiDonato for such a convincing and beautifully sung Mary Stuart.

L’elisir d’amore, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, November 2012

This 2007 Laurent Pelly production is set in 1950s Italy with Dulcamara, the charlatan purveyor of an elixir, arriving in an articulated lorry housing a mobile café. There are also bicycles, a moped and motor scooter, even a dog, giving a charmingly simple feel to the rural community.

In dress rehearsal for this second revival the movements of the supporting cast seemed unnatural, particularly in Act I, but musically it was another matter. Aleksandra Kurzak was a glorious Adina, sexily appealing in her stage presence, and prettily secure in her vocal work. Her Chiedi all’aura lusinghiera (Ask the flattering breeze) in the early duet with Nemorino was charmingly sung with flirtatious body movements.

All images ROH/ Catherine Ashmore

Bruno Campanella conducted with a sure but light touch, and I loved the addition of a motif from Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde by Mark Packwood on the fortepiano continuo in Act II. This is after Nemorino appears, having drunk more of Dulcamara’s love potion, but Roberto Alagna in this role rather overplayed things, heaving hay bales and throwing himself to the stage in Act I and lurching around very drunk in Act II. As Dulcamara, Ambrogio Maestri was a joy to watch and hear, particularly having just seen him in a different production live from the Metropolitan Opera in New York. His duet with Aleksandra Kurzak in Act II was perfection, and Fabio Capitanucci was a fine Sergeant Belcore, interacting well with the rest of the cast.

Forthcoming performances promise to be vocally delightful, but I hope the production comes over more convincingly in Act I. Those cyclists riding from stage right to left, and back again, several times, pretending they are merely passing by, and the man on top of Dulcamara’s vehicle flapping furiously with a cloth to no apparent purpose, were unnecessary distractions. Comments on the staging in later performances are welcome.

Performances continue until December 7 — for details click here.

L’Elisir d’Amore, Metropolitan Opera New York, live cinema relay, October 2012

The Met’s 2012/13 cinema season starts with a romantic comedy, but have no fear, some serious Shakespeare is on the way. In two and four weeks time they will broadcast Verdi’s Otello and Thomas Adès’s The Tempest. In the meantime this was a super L’elisir with Anna Netrebko as a sparkling Adina, and Mariusz Kwiecien as a charmingly forceful Belcore, producing fireworks with their mutual attraction in early Act I.

Adina and Belcore, all images MetOpera/ Ken Howard

That interaction was a fine catalyst for the duet between Adina and Matthew Polenzani as an endearingly sympathetic  Nemorino when she advises him of inconstancy and fickleness in Chieda all’aura lusinghiera (Ask the flattering breeze), and he responds with Chieda al rio (Ask the river). Wonderful stuff, and this production by Bartlett Sher fully brought out the romance between the two of them. It was helped of course by Michael Yeargan’s set designs, reminiscent of those by Oliver Messel, whose designs for the ballet can still be seen today by London audiences. Costumes by Catherine Zuber were of the 1830s when Donizetti wrote this opera, and the top hat for Adina was an attractive feature emphasising her superiority over the other young women.

Dulcamara

Nemorino and elixir

Indeed Adina is a highly literate woman, and at the beginning of the opera is found reading to others the tale of Tristan and Isolde. The romance is there right at the start, and Bartlett Sher has taken his cue and allowed the comedy to take a more natural second place. Of course the truly comic figure is the charlatan ‘Doctor’ Dulcamara who produces the elixir of love for Nemorino. He was grandly portrayed by Ambrogio Maestri as a well-fed bullshit artist, whose consumption of spaghetti at the wedding feast was a useful focal point for the camera.  This is in Act II where Matthew Polenzani’s impassioned rendering of Una furtiva lagrima was sung with huge feeling, and brought the house down.

Helped by Anna Netrebko’s playful sexiness, the four principals all did a wonderful job together, aided by fine orchestral support from Maurizio Benini in the orchestra pit. This is what one expects from the Met, and I look forward to Otello in a couple of weeks time. For anyone in London who is keen to see L’elisir on stage, the Royal Opera will give eight performances starting in mid-November.

Lucia di Lammermoor, Opera Holland Park, OHP, June 2012

The new Holland Park season opened on a blustery cool evening, just right for the Scottish setting of Donizetti’s Lucia. Its plot, based on a novel by Walter Scott, is absolutely up to the minute in view of the government’s recent proclamation making forced marriage illegal, and costumes were appropriately modern.

The mad scene, Enrico behind, all images OHP/ Alex Brenner

These omens turned out well, and the straightforward production by Olivia Fuchs allowed our concentration to dwell on the main characters and their interactions. Jamie Vartan’s designs, which included excellent costumes, helped keep the focus on the principals by having frames of wire mesh somewhat obscuring the chorus most of the time, and the movement, directed by Mandy Demetriou, was very well done, as was the placing of the various performers.

Edgardo

The singing was terrific. Russian soprano Elvira Fatykhova sang Lucia with great sensitivity and lovely top notes, giving us a heroine who should live and be happy rather than be destroyed by the machinations of her own brother Enrico, aided and abetted by the wretched Normanno. David Stephenson sang a fine Enrico, and his acting was superb. Here was a rather nasty fellow, with a frisson of physical attraction for his sister, gripping her upper arms in Act I and trying to make her feel guilty. And for why? Because he wants to compel her into an expedient marriage to restore the family fortunes, while she loves Edgardo, whom he hates. Aldo di Toro sang grippingly as Edgardo, portraying an attractive sympathetic man, and the duet between him and Enrico at the start of Act III was superbly done.

Irrational exuberance from the groom, before Lucia knifes him

Good stage presence from Keel Watson as the chaplain Raimondo, whose condemnation of Normanno towards the end of Act III was powerfully sung, and Nicholas Ransley made a fine Normanno, particularly in his interactions with Enrico in Act I.

This was a strong team performance of Lucia, held together with great energy by Stuart Stratford conducting the City of London Sinfonia. Indeed the players needed energy to keep out the cold, and I counted five woolly hats in the orchestra pit!

Another triumph for Holland Park, so here’s hoping the season will continue as well as it has started.

Performances of Lucia continue until June 30 — click here for details.

Anna Bolena, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, October 2011

This was the work that finally put Donizetti on the map. Having already produced over thirty operas in Italy, he suddenly became famous across Europe after the first performance in Milan on 26 December 1830.

Anna Netrebko as Anne Boleyn, all photos Brigitte Lacombe

The first Anna was the amazing soprano Giuditta Pasta, who less than three months later created the role of Amina in La Sonnambula, and exactly one year later on 26 December 1831, the role of Norma, all in Milan. Italian operas in what later became known as the bel canto style were all the rage at the time, but they went out of fashion in the late nineteenth century, and a serious revival had to wait until after the Second World War. By that time  Anna Bolena was a forgotten work. It needed a great soprano, and when Maria Callas raised the possibility of reviving it at the Met, Rudolf Bing dismissed it as “an old bore of an opera”. Fortunately La Scala was willing, and with Visconti as producer, Gavazzeni in the orchestra pit, and Callas in the main role, it was a huge success — the live recording was issued by EMI.

Anne and Percy

Now we have Anna Netrebko as Anne Boleyn, and what a queen she is. Sincere, emotional, and not to be trifled with, though that’s exactly what her husband Henry VIII does, setting her up to sweep her aside in favour of her lady-in-waiting, Jane Seymour. After all the emotion of meeting her previous lover Percy she is still ready to give a powerful rendering to “Ah! segnata è la mia sorte” (Ah, my fate is sealed) at the end of Act I, seeing the prospect of her accuser (the king) being the one who condemns her. Percy was brilliantly sung by Stephen Costello, his high tenor having a heroic timbre, and the wretched Smeton (Mark Smeaton), a twenty-four year old musician who is secretly in love with the queen, was convincingly portrayed by Tamara Mumford. As for the king himself, Ildar Abdrazekov sang this bass role with excellent gravitas, and demonstrated power and cunning in equal measure. The role of Jane (Giovanna) Seymour was sung by Ekaterina Gubanova, whose voice was quite different from Ms. Netrebko, and the Met did well to produce such a strong contrast.

The king and Anne

In Act II it only got better, and Anna Netrebko came through with the emotions every time. So sincere in her soliloquy as she sings of how Catherine of Aragon was wronged, yet suddenly when Jane Seymour tells her she can save her own life by admitting guilt, she is furious, easily winning the exchange between the two women while not yet knowing that Jane is her rival in the king’s affections. The nobility of Anne and Percy shone through in the sincerity of their singing, and it’s hard not to feel that Henry VIII was a rogue, but then … he was an immensely powerful monarch, and David McVicar’s production emphasises this very well. In Act I as Percy returns from exile at the king’s wish, and bends to kiss the monarch’s hand he whips it away at the last minute.

Anne awaiting execution

Details like this help create a convincing atmosphere for this historical tale of two of the six wives of Henry VIII. For those unfamiliar with the list, just remember: divorced, beheaded, died; divorced, beheaded, survived. Anne Boleyn was beheaded and Jane Seymour later died after giving birth to the king’s only son, the future Edward VI.

Musically this was a wonderful team effort with Marco Armiliato in the orchestra pit, but it was of course Anna Netrebko who gave it the diva touch. Congratulations to the Met for broadcasting it, and for extending their relays to Russia, which is highly appropriate in this case as the three main roles were sung by Russians!

The Elixir of Love, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, September 2011

A revival of Jonathan Miller’s production of Elixir, set in a diner in small town America, is an excellent way to start the new season.

Andrew Shore and Sarah Tynan, all photos by Tristram Kenton

Miller’s production first appeared in early 2010, and the two stars of those performances returned to give us their best: Sarah Tynan as the saucy, sassy Adina, and Andrew Shore as the charlatan Dr. Dulcamara. They were very well supported on this occasion by Ben Johnson as little Mr. Nobody, Nemorino, and after his singing of Una furtiva lagrima, (or ‘I saw a tear fall silently’ in Kelley Rourke’s updating to the vernacular of 1950s America), the audience burst into sustained applause. They were joined by Rory Macdonald in the orchestra pit, who did a fine job with Donizetti’s score, and vocally and orchestrally this all worked very well.

Andrew Shaw and Ben Johnson

I liked Ms Rourke’s translation — a bit of poetic license doesn’t come amiss, and in Dulcamara’s final aria where he continues to extol the wonders of his bogus medicine she has him singing, ‘And did I forget to mention/ it reduces hypertension’. Of course she had excellent material to work with because Felice Romani’s libretto is very clever. He was a master of the art of libretto writing and there’s a story that he and Donizetti created this opera in two weeks. Certainly the whole thing hangs together beautifully, and sustains adaptations.

Those of us brought up on Wagner may find Romani’s initial cavatina for Adina a bit surprising when she mentions Tristan and Isolde, but this was 1832, before Wagner had completed his first opera (Die Feen in 1833), and it was just one of those ancient tales of true love, inspired in this case by a love potion. It beautifully sets the stage for the credulous Nemorino to buy a bottle of Dulcamara’s patent medicine later in Act I.

In Act II the scene between Nemorino and Sergeant Belcore was very effective. The two young men, Ben Johnson and Benedict Nelson interacted superbly together, and Belcore’s gripping handshake on the deal for Nemorino to join the army was wittily done. With Ella Kirkpatrick singing Giannetta, the whole cast worked superbly as a team, and Jonathan Miller has done a great job of staging this again. Isabella Bywater’s designs let the chorus ladies look their best in those 1950s dresses, and though the setting is just a diner, that little bit of style is just the ticket.

All's well that ends well

Performances continue until October 8 — for details click here.

Don Pasquale, Opera Holland Park, OHP, June 2011

Don Pasquale is Donizetti’s sixty-fourth opera, and one of his most successful. The title character is a wealthy but crotchety older man who disapproves of the marital choice of his nephew Ernesto. This young man wants to marry the high-spirited, youthful widow, Norina, so Pasquale has decided to take a young wife for himself, and disinherit Ernesto.

Dr. Malatesta and Don Pasquale, all photos Fritz Curzon

The production by Stephen Barlow sets the action in modern dress, complete with the odd mobile phone, and seems to portray Don P as the owner of a run-down, seaside fish and chip shop in England. Dr. Malatesta, friend to both Pasquale and Ernesto, sets him up with his “sister”, really Norina in disguise, and she goes to town spending his money and driving him crazy so that he’ll give up the idea of marriage, and accept Norina as his nephew’s new wife. The opera is partly based on Ben Johnson’s play The Silent Woman. But I was a bit perplexed as to how the owner of a fish and chip shop would have the money to hire masses of new servants in a brand new establishment, and found Norina’s demand that, “I want a Ferrari in the garage by tomorrow” a bit over the top. Yes, I’m sure it was meant to be that way, and the tackiness of her costume in Act III surely owes something to Covent Garden’s recent Anna Nicole, but in that opera the old man really was extremely wealthy, not the owner of a seafront fish and chip shop. I’m afraid I found it all a bit lacking in coherence, and not half as good as Stephen Barlow’s Don Giovanni for OHP last year.

Norina in Act III

Musically however, Richard Bonynge, conducting the City of London Sinfonia, gave a fine account of Donizetti’s delightful score, and was hugely supportive of the singers, particularly during the quartet in Act II. Donald Maxwell held the stage well as Pasquale, giving a strong rendering of the part — he’s always so good, even in secondary roles. And Colin Lee as Ernesto was superb — his soliloquy at the start of Act II was simply wonderful. This is a tenor who took over from Juan Diego Flores at Covent Garden two years ago as Almaviva in Il Barbieri and was the tenor in Covent Garden’s Turco last year — Holland Park did extremely well to get him. Richard Burkhard sang well as Dr. Malatesta, though I would have preferred a stronger stage presence. The fast duet between Malatesta and Pasquale in Act III was partly done as a music hall comedy routine between the two, with a walking stick and umbrella, but it went inevitably a little slowly, particularly at the point when Burkhard sang while standing on one leg, balancing an umbrella on his other foot — a quite remarkable feat! Norina was sung by Majella Cullagh, who did well as Queen Elizabeth I in Holland Park’s Roberto Devereux last year, but seemed mis-cast in the role of the pretty and flirtatious young widow. Her voice lacked the strength for the flexibility and charm this role needs.

Lighting by Mark Jonathan was very good, lending a romantic atmosphere to Act III, particularly in the way the new establishment was lit, and in the illumination of the two old fashioned street lights, both of which burst their bulbs at the end of the Pasquale-Malatesta duet in Act III — a nice touch.

Performances continue until June 24 — for more details click here.

Lucrezia Borgia, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, February 2011

A mother’s anger leads unintentionally to the death of her adored illegitimate son. Shades of Verdi’s Rigoletto here, where a father’s anger leads to the death of his beloved daughter, but there are strong differences. Where Rigoletto is a physically ugly man with a hunchback, Lucrezia Borgia is a beautiful woman, now in her early forties. It’s a wonderful vehicle for a great soprano, but that’s not how it was played here.

Michael Fabiano as Gennaro, photos by Stephen Cummisky

The director, Mike Figgis has made a film about Lucrezia, and he imports several scenes from the movie into his staging of the opera. The purpose is to give some background from Lucrezia’s early life, which is not in the opera, but the effect was disorientating, like a Renaissance painting with several vanishing points. In fact we were also treated to projected images of paintings in which the figures started moving. This was supposed to give background to the background, but I felt myself in some avant garde Gesamtkunstwerk (mixed languages intended) that was attempting to educate me in the attitudes of the time.

The background to Lucrezia is that she was the daughter of a man who became pope, and the sister of a man who was a psychopath. Both supposedly had incestuous relations with her and she, like a true Borgia, took a delight in causing the death of others. At least that is what the movie showed, but where does this leave the opera?

Alastair Miles and Claire Rutter as Alfonso and Lucrezia

The part of Gennaro, Lucrezia’s lost son, whom she seeks out in the Prologue, was strongly portrayed and sung by Michael Fabiano, and his friend Orsini was beautifully sung by Elizabeth DeShong. Lucrezia’s third husband Alfonso was well sung, though rather woodenly portrayed, by Alastair Miles, and much though I have admired Claire Rutter in other roles, I found her a disappointing Lucrezia who avoided the high notes at the end. As for Lucrezia’s father and brother, who are so prominent in the movie sequences, they are simply not in the opera.

Costume designs of the period by Brigitte Reiffenstuel were excellent, and the sets by Es Devlin were wonderful. I loved the dual throne in Act I, which reappeared in Act II, and I thought the small proscenium arch in Act II, which widened later, showing a stage within the stage, was a clever idea. Lighting by Peter Mumford was very well done, giving a sense of irreality at appropriate moments. Conducting by Paul Daniel lacked a sense of drive, partly perhaps because of the various interruptions for the movie sequences.

The chorus in black cloaks, acting like a Greek chorus, formed a strong background to the drama, reminiscent of the chorus in Rigoletto. That opera is almost always a success, and it would be good to counterbalance it occasionally with Donizetti’s Lucrezia Borgia, but apart from clever production ideas one needs a very strong soprano, and the music must be played for all it’s worth rather than used as a background, which is what happens in movies.

Performances continue until March 3^rd — for more details click here.

Don Pasquale, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, November 2010

Chaucer’s Merchant’s Tale shows the folly of a wealthy old bachelor marrying a pretty young wife, but some people never learn. Here the old fellow wants to do it partly to disinherit his nephew, and expel him from the house, because he doesn’t approve of the young man’s marrying a charming widow named Norina. He gets his come-uppance through the cunning of his ‘friend’ Dr. Malatesta, and what a come-uppance it is!

John Del Carlo as Don Pasquale, all photos by Marty Sohl

There are just four principals: the old fellow Don Pasquale, his nephew Ernesto, Dr. Malatesta, and Norina, sung by John Del Carlo, Matthew Polenzani, Mariusz Kwiecien, and Anna Netrebko, in that order, and they worked superbly together. There was electricity aplenty, and that marvellous Act 3 duet between Kwiecien and Del Carlo was carried off with wonderful speed and sparkle. But it wasn’t necessary to wait until then for the fireworks because Kwiecien had superb chemistry with Netrebko, starting from their first interaction in Act 1, which was sprightly and witty from start to finish. She was a delight to watch; her suppressed energy as a veiled convent girl when first introduced to Pasquale, followed by her charming ballet steps when she unveils and moves closer to him, belied her swift transformation into a termagant. But it’s all play-acting of course, and this production by Otto Schenk gave ample scope for fun. Del Carlo was wonderfully expressive as Pasquale, evincing our sympathy for this comical buffoon, and Matthew Polenzani gave a beautiful rendering of Ernesto’s Act 2 lament.

Polenzani, Netrebko and Kwiecien

With flawless singing from all four principals, and a wonderfully emotional rendering of Donizetti’s score from James Levine in the orchestra pit, this performance was terrific. Sets and costumes by Rolf Langenfass gave the right sense of genteel dowdiness to Don Pasquale and his household furnishings, yet a brightness and cheeriness to the other three characters.

Whoever did the subtitles had the wit to use a bit of Cockney rhyming slang in the phrase ‘trouble and strife’ towards the end, when Norina refers to the perils of a wife. That is not the only bit of London in this opera, because the author of the original story was born in Westminster in 1572. This was Ben Johnson whose play The Silent Woman was taken up by Angelo Anelli for Stefano Pavesi’s opera Ser Mercantonio, and that in turn led to the libretto by Donizetti and Giovanni Ruffini for this delightful opera.

Johnson’s play was also the basis for Richard Strauss’s opera Die Schweigsame Frau, and I’d love to see the Met do that live in HD — any chance?