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.

Rodelinda, Metropolitan Opera live relay, December 2011

The Met first produced this Handel opera in the same production in 2004 with Renée Fleming in the title role. In this live cinema screening she took on the role again and gave a wonderful performance, showing the anguish of the queen who has apparently lost her husband Bertarido in battle, and is now wooed by Grimoaldo, the man who has taken over as ruler. Joseph Kaiser gave an excellent performance as this usurper, who is loved by Bertarido’s sister Eduige, but falls in love with Rodelinda.

Rodelinda with her son, all images Ken Howard

The emotions are complex: desire, scheming, suffering and constant love, but everyone ends up happily ever after, except the nasty Garibaldo, confidante of Grimoaldo who is scheming to acquire the kingdom for himself. Shenyang sang strongly as this unpleasant character, showing him to be a cunning, emotionless power-seeker who over-reaches himself and is killed by Bertarido just as he is about to murder Grimoaldo.

Rodelinda with Berterido

Iestyn Davies as Unulfo

Joseph Kaiser, who sang gloriously as Grimoaldo, amply demonstrated the insecurities of this would-be king, particularly in the face of Renée Fleming’s evident strength as Rodelinda, offering her own son as sacrifice, knowing full well that such a proposal will place the usurper in an impossible position. With Stephanie Blythe singing a very powerful Eduige, the two ladies in the cast had enough strength to carry the entire opera, but they were brilliantly backed up by the other performers. Apart from the tenor and bass parts (Grimoaldo and Garibaldo), there were originally two roles for alto castratos, sung here by Andreas Scholl as Bertarido, and Iestyn Davies as his confidante Unulfo. The latter moves seamlessly between the new court and his exiled master, who anxiously awaits an opportunity to regain power and be reunited with Rodelinda and their son. Iestyn Davies gave an incredible performance as Unulfo, singing as if this were his natural voice, and making the very capable Andreas Scholl sound an unnatural falsetto by comparison.

Grimoaldo with Eduige, Rodelinda and Berterido at rear

The conducting by Harry Bicket was a joy to hear. He gave a wonderful buzz to the overture, and continued to produce a fine clarity of sound, making the musicians of the Metropolitan opera sound like a baroque orchestra. It was he who conducted this opera when Stephen Wadsworth’s excellent production was new in 2004, the beautiful sets and costumes updating this story of a 7^th century Lombard king to Handel’s time of the early eighteenth century.

Armida, Metropolitan Opera live relay, April 2010

Rossini composed Armida shortly after returning to Naples from great success at La Scala in Milan. That was where, following his new opera La Cenerentola in Rome, he created La Gazza Ladra (The Thieving Magpie) for the more sophisticated Milanese audience, and they loved it. Rossini could do no wrong, and arriving in Naples in August he found a new libretto waiting for him. Chosen by the reigning impresario Domenico Barbaia, who ran the newly rebuilt Teatro San Carlo, it was a rather fantastical work, not ideally suited to the composer’s tastes. Nevertheless he set to work with unusual conscientiousness, preparing a great soprano role for the company’s prima donna, Isabella Colbran, darling of the Neapolitan public, favourite of the king of Naples, and mistress of Barbaia. He experimented with new harmonies and modulations, but as Francis Toye has written, “he might have spared himself the trouble, for the Neapolitan critics judged the result to be ‘too German’, too learned altogether, disappointingly devoid of spontaneity. Nobody seems to have traced the responsibility to . . . its real cause — the incompetence of the librettist, a certain Schmitt”. This was Giovanni Schmitt, who based his work on the epic poem, La Gerusalemme liberata published in 1581 by Torquato Tasso, telling a fictionalised account of the first Crusade.

Renée Fleming as Armida with the knights in Act I, photo Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera

Armida herself is a sorceress whose seductiveness creates confusion and divisiveness between the knights when she enters their encampment. She persuades a group of knights to leave with her to recover her lost kingdom, and in the original story turns them into animals, like Circe in Homer’s Odyssey. She intends to kill the leading knight, Rinaldo, but falls in love with him, and in the opera he alone escapes with her, after killing one of the other knights. They enter her magic realm and sing of their love for one another, but this comes to an end in Act III when two knights, Carlo and Ubaldo find their way into Armida’s magical garden to bring Rinaldo back to his military role. When they show him his new effeminacy reflected in a shield, he feels ashamed and is persuaded to regain his mettle and flee with them. Armida tries to restrain him, but loses. She is then faced with a choice between two figures, Love and Revenge. She chooses the latter, destroys her pleasure palace, and flies off in a rage.

Renée Fleming and Lawrence Brownlee in Act II, photo Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera

This bel-canto opera needs a really first-rate soprano, and Maria Callas sang the title role in a 1952 revival. Renée Fleming performed it in 1993 at the Rossini festival in Pesaro, and again in this new production for the Met. She sings here with consummate skill and brilliant characterisation, very ably supported by Lawrence Brownlee as Rinaldo. The knights Carlo and Ubaldo who rescue Rinaldo from Armida’s clutches were well sung by Barry Banks and Kobie van Rensburg, and the former also sang strongly as a knight named Gernando whom Rinaldo killed in a duel in Act I. John Osborn sang the role of Goffredo, a knight who persuades the company to support Armida, and Keith Miller gave an admirable portrayal of Astarotte, the prince of darkness in Armida’s realm.

Act III, photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera

The production by Mary Zimmerman, with set and costume designs by Richard Hudson, shows Rossini’s original three act version, complete with a ballet in Act II. There is plenty of choreography in one form and another, along with frequent reappearances of the two characters Revenge and Love, the former portrayed by a tattooed man with a fine physique, and the latter as a girl in red dress. As often the case in relatively early operas these days, the sets showed clean lines and bright colours. I’m delighted the Met has broadcast this fine production of a little-known opera, conducted here by Riccardo Frizza, and I only wish their information sheets contained a more complete cast list. For example in this opera, Keith Miller who sang the bass role of Astarotte, and was interviewed by Deborah Voigt in the second intermission, was not listed.

Der Rosenkavalier, Metropolitan Opera live relay, January 2010

Der Rosenkavalier, Metropolitan Opera live relay, January 2010. At the end of Ronald Harwood’s recent play Collaboration, on Richard Strauss’s ill-fated collaboration with Stefan Zweig, we find Strauss holed up in his villa awaiting the arrival of allied troops. When they enter he quickly tells them, “I am the composer of Rosenkavalier“. Indeed it is probably Strauss’s best-loved opera among all the wonderful gems that he produced, and this performance did it full justice.

I saw this opera less than three weeks ago at Covent Garden, so comparisons are inevitable, and I hope you will forgive me for making them. The Metropolitan Opera comes out ahead of Covent Garden, mainly because of Renée Fleming as the Marschallin, and Susan Graham as Octavian. In the Royal Opera’s recent revival we had Soile Isokoski and Sophie Koch in these two roles, with Lucy Crowe as Sophie, and Peter Rose as Ochs. Thomas Allen was Faninal, just as he was here, though he came over better in this production at the Met. I want to write that Renée Fleming is a diva, but that word is debased by its association with attention-seeking sopranos of unpredictable disposition, so I prefer to call Ms. Fleming a goddess. She may be the best Marschallin currently available, giving the role great depth of feeling and emotion. She also looks terrific, and her glorious costume in Act III matched the drama of her entrance to resolve the mess in the tavern. This is a high point of the opera, and the only comparison in the last four Rosenkavalier productions I’ve seen was Anne Schwanewilms a few years ago in Chicago, again in a stunning dress, worn with superb poise. But Renée Fleming is far more than just an elegant lady, and her soliloquy on the passing of time in Act I was done with immense sensitivity and feeling. What a performer! She was well-matched by Susan Graham as Octavian, who transmuted so well from a feisty young man to a pretty young chamber maid that one could understand Ochs’s desire and confusion. His role was very charmingly portrayed by Icelandic baritone Kristinn Sigmundsson, a huge man who showed himself a cultivated boor, but never a clown, and his lyrical singing was a joy to witness. Sophie was performed by the attractive Christine Schäfer, who looked a little too mature for the part of this ingénue, though her voice contrasted well with Fleming and Graham. I must say I preferred Lucy Crowe at Covent Garden, arguably the best Sophie I’ve ever seen, and when it comes to comparisons, Graham Clark at Covent Garden was a superb Valzacchi. The Met hired Thomas Allen, so why not Clark too? Their Valzacchi here, whose name was not in the cinema cast list, was miscast. He was too young to sing of Annina as his niece, and too small to restrain Octavian in Act II, making that little scene appear too contrived.

Overall, however, this was a great cast, and the conducting by Edo de Waart was sensitive to the singers, well-paced and never over the top. In this respect it was quite different from the recent performances at Covent Garden, where Kirill Petrenko used the musical dissonances in the score to create a marked shrillness in some scenes, such as the levée in Act I. This performance was noticeably smoother, but both interpretations are valid. The stage sets by Robert O’Hearn were excellent, and his costumes were very good, but I did prefer the Covent Garden ones for Sophie, and for the Rosenkavalier in Act II. Altogether this production by Nathaniel Merrill is very effective, but as Domingo said in his interval address, and as they say every time in these wonderful Met broadcasts, a cinema screening is no substitute for the real thing on stage, and that is particularly true for this opera with its multitude of stage action. You really have to see it in the opera house, even if you don’t get Renée Fleming — it’s a stage drama, and a glorious one too.

Review — La Traviata, Royal Opera, June 2009

The last time I saw this fine Richard Eyre production was in January 2008, but this time it was better, for several reasons: the preparation, the singing and the conducting. It seems Richard Eyre himself rehearsed the revival, which explains the excellent acting from the entire cast; the principal singers were Renée Fleming, Joseph Calleja and Thomas Hampson, and the conductor was Antonio Pappano.

Renée Fleming gave a superbly sensitive performance as Violetta, brilliantly showing her fragility and death at the end, and Joseph Calleja sang like a god as Alfredo. I saw him perform the same role at the Lyric Opera in Chicago in October 2007, where I commented that his voice was full and romantic, perfect for the part, but on that occasion his acting was very wooden. Here he acted the part, and along with Thomas Hampson as his father, Giorgio Germont, we had a simply wonderful trio of top singers. Hampson interacted well with Violetta, cool and aloof at first, but warming to her as he began to believe her sincerity. Between father and son the interaction was powerful, and the father even threw the son to the ground at one point in the country house where he lives with Violetta.

With three brilliant principals carrying things off to such thrilling effect it seems hardly necessary to mention anyone else. But Sarah Pring was very fine as Annina, the maid to Violetta, and I much liked Richard Wiegold as Doctor Grenvil. Then of course the conducting of Antonio Pappano was sensitive and full of emotional energy. This was a terrific performance of Traviata, and if Renée Fleming omitted some high notes, it was only the dress rehearsal.

Finally I would just add that this is what the Royal Opera should be doing, giving the audience a production in which great singers can express themselves and provide the audience with a convincing account of an operatic masterpiece. It is sadly the case — and the recent Lulu was a striking example — that the Opera House occasionally hires a director who convinces the senior management that his unusual way of presenting an opera will somehow shed new light of matters that many members of the audience already understand very well. By a process of hyper-intellectual argument the director loses the plot, and the audience find themselves infuriated by un-theatrical nonsense. This was the perfect antidote. Thank goodness for Richard Eyre.

Thaïs, live cinema screening from the Metropolitan Opera, New York, Dec 2008.

This was terrific. The production by John Cox, with lighting by Duane Schuler, was imported from the Lyric Opera in Chicago, where I saw it in December 2002, but here it looked much better. I think the stage designs have been improved, because I remember the desert scene in Chicago looking pretty shabby, whereas here it was cleanly stylized, and made a good effect. There were also wonderful new costumes for Thaïs designed by Christian Lacroix, and the designer’s name, which was Paul Brown in Chicago, was omitted so I suspect other changes were also made. As in Chicago, Renee Fleming was Thaïs, and Thomas Hampson was Athanaël. They were wonderful — she was glorious as a great courtesan, and as a convent sister in the desert, while he gave a strong portrayal of a repressed fundamentalist Christian, struggling to contain his own desires. Alain Vernhes sang the role of Palemon, head of the order of monks, doing a fine job vocally and with his stage presence, but I found Michael Schade disappointing as Nicias, the ex-monk and lover of Thaïs. He did not have the rich tenor of Joseph Calleja, who appeared in the concert performance at the Royal Opera in June 2007, and as an actor he was rather dull, apparently unmoved by the sexual allure of the great courtesan for whose favours he has sold valuable acres of land. She had to go it alone in that respect, only aided later by the simmering desires of Athanaël. Jesus Lopez-Cobos conducted with fine sensitivity, and the solo violin meditation was strongly and yearningly played by concert master David Chan, far better than the cloyingly weepy vibrato I heard in Chicago. These cinema screenings by the Metropolitan Opera cannot be as good as the real thing, of course, but by incorporating backstage information, such as details of the costumes, they do a superb job of bringing opera to the rest of the world. The Royal Opera’s pathetic attempt to do likewise, mentioned below, is simply embarrassing.