Otello, Metropolitan Opera live cinema relay, 27th October 2012

Wonderful costumes by Peter J. Hall, excellent sets by Michael Yeargan, all beautifully lit by Duane Schuler help bring this Elijah Moshinsky production to life, along with deeply expressive music from the orchestra under the direction of Semyon Bychkov.

Fleming as Desdemona, all images MetOpera/ Ken Howard

The star of the show was Renée Fleming as Desdemona, always beautiful and coming through in Act IV with a hugely sympathetic delivery of the Willow Song, showing emotion and bemused gentleness. Hers was a great performance, matched vocally by Johan Botha as Otello, but his characterisation was too one-dimensional, an angry man more suited to something like Rossini’s Otello that is not based on Shakespeare, rather than Verdi’s, which is. Hugely angry too was Falk Struckmann’s Iago, well expressed facially and in his menacing stage presence. His forceful singing carried great conviction, particularly in his marvellous delivery of the credo from Act II, though over all a little more subtlety would not have come amiss.

Iago, Cassio, and the handkerchief

Otello and Desdemona

Cassio was superbly sung and acted by young American Michael Fabiano, Desdemona’s attendant Emilia was sympathetically portrayed by Renée Tatum, and James Morris made a strong ambassador from Venice, showing fine gravitas. This was the second Moshinsky Otello I have seen in the past few months, the other being a different production in July at Covent Garden, and it serves to confirm this director’s superb sense of theatre.

As usual during these Met cinema screenings there were intermission features, and this time interviews were conducted by Sondra Radvanovsky. Rather oddly on this occasion one of the main singers was omitted — where was Falk Struckmann? He may well have been more interesting to hear from than Johan Botha, who came over in this interview as somewhat inarticulate, while Renée Fleming was her usual lovely self, and Michael Fabiano came over as delightfully ingenuous.

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.

Simon Boccanegra, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, June 2010

Verdi was brilliant at expressing father-daughter relationships, as this opera makes abundantly clear. Before it starts, Simon Boccanegra has seduced a young noblewoman, and taken their illegitimate daughter away to be cared for, earning him the undying hatred of the young woman’s father, the powerful Jacopo Fiesco. Placido Domingo as Boccanegra, and Feruccio Furlanetto as Fiesco, formed a powerfully opposing duo, whose meetings in the Prologue and again at the end of the opera remain etched in my memory.

Domingo and Poplavskaya in the recognition scene

Boccanegra returns to Genoa after years of piracy to be elected Doge, only to find that his previous lover, Maria the daughter of Fiesco, has died. Boccanegra has tragically lost track of their daughter, unaware that she was later adopted under the name of Amelia Grimaldi. A quarter of a century later, the recognition scene between the two, with Marina Poplavskaya as Amelia, was simply superb. Her voice showed plaintiveness and purity, yet firm resolve, and their singing and body language melded beautifully together. The acting of Domingo, Furlanetto and Poplavskaya was simply wonderful — I cannot imagine better. Add to that the singing of Joseph Calleja as Amelia’s beloved Gabriele Adorno, and this was a terrific cast — Calleja sang like a god.

Amelia’s other passionate admirer, Paolo, is Boccanegra’s chief of staff, a man instrumental in making him Doge. This part was sung by Jonathan Summers who played the same role in some of the original 1991 performances of this production by Elijah Moshinsky. The production is excellent, with large sets by Michael Yeargan that use the stage to create wide open spaces, and I loved the addition of an old navigational instrument in Boccanegra’s quarters in Act II. Costumes by Peter J. Hall are wonderful, and Moshinsky obviously returned to direct this revival — the first since 2004 — appearing on stage with the cast at the end.

Adorno wrongly accuses Boccanegra of abducting his beloved, while the real culprit Paolo stands on the right

The Council chamber scene was memorable, and musical direction by Antonio Pappano was gentle, sensitive, yet immensely powerful when necessary. As Boccanegra calls on Paolo to find out who is guilty of Amelia’s recent abduction, the five trombones played like thunder.

Boccanegra dies, supported by Amelia and Adorno, with Fiesco in the background

When I compare this production and performance to the opening night of the new, rather cold, production of Manon a week ago, I am thankful for the warmth and sincerity of this marvellous experience. It’s a sell-out, but if you can get hold of tickets, don’t hesitate. At the end the entire main floor gave it a standing ovation.

Les Contes d’Hoffmann, Metropolitan Opera live relay, December 2009

The main character in this fascinating opera by Offenbach is Hoffmann himself, gloriously sung here by Joseph Calleja. He first appears in a tavern where the menacing Count Lindorf is determined to steal his lover, the opera singer Stella. Lindorf has stolen a letter from her to Hoffmann, who entertains the company by describing three earlier loves, Olympia, Antonia, and Giulietta, all of whom portray aspects of Stella. In the ensuing story, Lindorf first reappears as Coppelius, creator of Hoffmann’s first lover, the mechanical doll Olympia, brilliantly performed here by Kathleen Kim. His second transformation is as Dr. Miracle, overseeing the death of Hoffmann’s second lover Antonia, beautifully sung by Anna Netrebko. Miracle once oversaw the death of Antonia’s mother, and though banned from the house he manages to enter and persuade Antonia to sing. This leads to her death after she has just promised to marry Hoffmann. Lindorf’s third transformation is as Dappertutto, confidante to Hoffmann’s third lover, the courtesan Giulietta, who was sung by Ekaterina Gubanova. Dapertutto attempts to destroy Hoffmann by getting Giulietta to steal his image from a mirror, after which she disappears in a gondola. Hoffmann then finds himself back in the tavern where he loses Stella to Lindorf, leaving him to his muse and his drink.

Lindorf and the three thaumaturges are one and the same, and were all excellently sung by Alan Held. He, Joseph Calleja, and his muse, sung by Kate Lindsey, were the driving forces behind this fine performance, well aided by James Levine in the orchestra pit. Alan Held’s presence was suitably dark, and Kate Lindsey was outstanding as both a beautiful muse and Hoffmann’s friend Nicklausse, who is mysteriously present throughout. They are powerful forces of despair and recovery for Hoffmann, and Joseph Calleja performed that difficult role with glorious singing and a sympathetic stage presence.

This production by Bartlett Sher is powerful in its representation of the imagery behind Hoffmann’s passions, and is well aided by Michael Yeargan’s sets, Catherine Zuber’s costumes, and choreography by Dou Dou Huang. I particularly liked the fact that Hoffmann’s lovers were in the correct dramatic order, though so many other productions switch the order of Antonia and Giulietta. They do that because the producer finds the music for Antonia stronger than that for Giulietta, but the drama of the mirror in Giulietta’s scene is crucial because it allows the magus, alias Lindorf, to show Hoffmann that his image of himself is but an image that can be wiped out, leaving the poet to his muse and his companions.

My only complaint with this production is that it lacks the ending of the Giulietta scene when she drinks poison prepared for Hoffmann, and Departutto cries out, Ah, Giulietta, maladroite! With this ending to the act, Hoffmann has destroyed all three representations of Stella and is ready to live again for his muse.