A Recital of True Benefit

Last Sunday, just short of a week past Valentine's Day, soprano Natalie Mann dared to program an entire evening of songs devoted to love at the Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall in New York. Perhaps for this reason, to their loss, recently romance-saturated New Yorkers decided to miss Songs of Love and Hope, featuring the talented Ms. Mann and her incredibly skilled pianist Jeffrey Panko. Nevertheless, a modestly-sized but grateful audience fully enjoyed the ability and intensity both musicians had to offer for the benefit of all present, along with the American Heart Association to whom she dedicated her concert this American Heart Month.

While a few of the audience members hearts might have fluttered when the stunning soprano entered in a silvery corseted gown with flowing black skirt and shawl, Natalie Mann confidently began her performance without such hesitation. Intoning her first of two sets by living female composers, Though Love Be a Day by Gwyneth Walker, Ms. Mann sets a high bar of musicality and beautifully moving phrases. E. E. Cummings set four of the five texts, with the text of the final movement, "Still," written by the composer herself "to provide an intense and powerful closing to the cycle (quote taken from the author's website)."

Both the program notes and Gwyneth Walker make a special note of the fact that the verses within Cumming's After All White Horses Are in Bed first inspired her creation of the entire set to frame it as a centerpiece. Natalie Mann's stylized use of vibrato, alternating with a captivating straight tone on repeated themes serves to make the entire set clear and meaningful, and Mann and Panko appropriately use a more playful, almost mischievous character for the second and fourth texts. Seemingly as meaningful to the soprano as the composer both the third, After All White Horses, text and the final commentary by Walker compel the audience with not a moment of disconnection from the singer or pianist. Natalie Mann's high notes soar with no tension, and her full and balanced tone from top to bottom dances with Jeffrey Panko, whose sensitive clarity creates a musical organism between them throughout the concert.

After an incredible start to her diverse musical offering, Natalie Mann performs a French set with the Fiançailles pour Rire by Francis Poulenc and "Depuis le jour" from Louise by Gustave Charpentier. Poulenc wrote his composition as an excuse to dwell upon the thoughts of his dear friend and poet Louise de Vilmorin during World War II when she, trapped with her husband behind enemy lines, could not communicate with her friend Francis Poulenc (Brilliantly ironic to pair these with a piece from Louise). Not one of the Poulenc texts has a thoroughly positive outlook; I would have preferred to see a more convincing range of emotion from Natalie Mann within these pieces, along with a greater sense of abandon throughout Charpentier's "Depuis le jour." On the other hand, Ms. Mann does an excellent job of continuing her brilliantly sustained legato, undeniably stunning high notes, and impressive quality of pitch and tone center across the board. Unfortunately, her uneven mastery of the stresses and sounds of the French language makes both the Poulenc and Charpentier a poor match for her otherwise superb talents.

Returning to the stage after an intermission, Natalie Mann launches into a far more flattering set of three Richard Strauss songs that suit her as perfectly as the plunging red gown she wears, making no secret of her full and uninhibited breathing technique. She has a warm and rich tone less common in lyric sopranos, and both Strauss's writing and the German language embrace and support her technique gloriously. In general despite her excellent German, Ms. Mann seems most comfortable in English, and the following return to her native language with a set by living composer Lori Laitman (joyfully present in the audience) sets her at ease immediately.

Between the vocalist and pianist, their delivery of The Metropolitan Tower and Other Songs by Laitman feels intricately connected and intensely beloved. In this set, both become the poetry by Sara Teasdale, Jeffrey Panko giving motion to the fabulously lilting winds of "A Winter Night" and Natalie Mann providing a form for "The Strong House" in her tall, powerful stance. The final movement, "To a Loose Woman," gives them a chance to showcase their humor with a bit of a cheeky tango in the accompaniment, and the composer rises to accept unrestrained applause for a truly great song cycle.

Finally, before a Russian set to conclude the evening, Jeffrey Panko performs his second solo piano piece, "La Cathédrale engloutie" from Claude Debussy's Préludes. Earlier, after the Poulenc set, he played an expertly technical Jeux d'eau by Maurice Ravel with a rubato one might have imagined precisely timed by Quartz. With the "Cathédrale," which Panko lovingly introduces as the incarnation of the Breton myth of a cathedral which rises and falls in the sea, he clearly has found a more personal and dear piece to showcase his sensitivity even further. His excellent use of pedal keeps the cathedral bells ringing and connected while he clearly chimes each chord percussively before sinking into and lingering upon successive bass notes to bring the audience under water with the cathedral itself. As Panko so carefully delivers his final note, he releases it as if never to let go of the music he portrays so well and ardently.

In their final moments together at Weill Hall Sunday evening, Mann and Panko come together once more for Lilacs by Sergei Rachmaninoff and Antonin Dvořak's "Song to the Moon" from Rusalka. Delivering the Rachmaninoff simply, they allow the poetry to speak for itself. In general, although her Russian diction causes no interference with her clear, bright vocal technique, her consonants need much more weight in this language, which could use more coaching and study. Regardless, the aria from Rusalka seems to flow out of the pair as if they truly had performed it together in their sleep previously several times.

Mann manages to jump extremes of emotion extremely quickly and without reservation in her final piece, reminding everyone in the audience of her utterly thorough exploration of love through music in this offering for the American Heart Association. For not one moment did I question her vocal abilities, her musical instincts, her breath technique, or her commitment to the music. After Natalie Mann and Jeffrey Planko graciously accepted their heartfelt applause, they floated offstage. When the audience leaped to applaud at the entrance of a stagehand, these talented musicians had accomplished one of the finest goals in performance: to always leave them wanting more.

Abigail Wright

A Recital of True Benefit
Abigail Wright

Bartered not Martyred

Poor Marenka, the heroine of Smetana’s “The Bartered Bride”, is being sold as bride to an unfortunate young man she rejects; she is deeply in love with Jenik, and as sung by Paul Appleby, who wouldn’t be? Lovely Layla Clair portrays Marenka with charm, wit, enthusiasm and a gorgeous soprano. The chemistry between the two is totally believable. The wealthy suitor Vasek,to whom her father is selling her (to pay off his debt) is sympathetically portrayed by Alexander Lewis; he has a serious stutter and manages to be funny but not ridiculous. Just try making fun of a character with a disabiity in our PC age! Not to worry. The bride is feisty and refuses to martyr herself for the sake of her father. Her sweetheart is cunning and manages to work everything out, even while pretending to barter his own love for filthy lucre. Even Vasek gets his chance at romance with the darling circus performer Esmeralda, beautifully sung by Joyce El-Khoury.

This production was a joint effort of the Metropolitan Opera’s Lindemann Young Artist Development Program and the Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts at the Juilliard School. The enthusiastic and talented young musicians were members of the Juilliard Orchestra playing Smetanan’s tunefully nationalistic music under the baton of HRH James Levine who well deserved the prolonged standing ovation. Over a velvet carpet of strings, plaintive melodies were spun out by the winds. Levine clearly loves this opera and so do we. Singers belonged to the Lindemann program or the Juilliard Opera. Dancers belonged to the Juiliard Dance Program and the excellent choreography by Benjamin Millepied added to the delights. Marenka’s choreographed tantrum in Act I was hilarious, as was Jenik’s in Act II.

Stephen Wadsworth directed the action with a lot of panache; every action seemed motivated by the dialogue. Thomas Lynch provided an effective unit set--a see-through cafe that revealed the villagers preparing for a festival and later enjoying a circus, complete with a humorous Ringmaster (Noah Baetge) and an American “Indian”, portrayed by an under-utilized Elliot Madore. Much of the audience laughter came from a “Bearded Lady” on point and in travesti (Miles Mykkanen) and the witty performance of the slimy matchmaker Kecal (Jordan Bisch) who had the best dialogue. The reason appears to be that the opera was sung in English which lends itself best to clever rhymes and jerky rhythms. Much was made of the new translation by J.D. McClatchy, not necessarily an improvement over the last translation. With the exception of Kecal’s dialogue, much of the rest was doggerel and accents often fell on the wrong syllables. Obviously, learning an entire opera in a little-sung language like Czech was not possible but I look forward to hearing it sung in Czech someday, even if it involves a trip to Prague.

Mr. Wadsworth’s Director’s Note clearly attributes the updating from the 1860’s to the 1930’s to budgetary considerations and can therefore be forgiven. The few traditional costumes (Martin Pakledinaz) that were seen were resplendent while the 1930’s attire appeared drab. References were made to Stalin and Hitler in an attempt to show resonance with a similar political situation in the original period.

These are small cavils in light of a most entertaining and musically valid performance. Mention must be made of the four parents, all ably sung by Donovan Singletary, Jennifer Johnson Cano, Alexander Hajek and Renee Tatum. The Peter Jay Sharp Theater is just the perfect size for such productions and more collaborative efforts such as this one are eagerly anticipated. Juilliard is indeed a jewel in New York’s crown.

-- Meche Kroop for The Opera Insider

A win for Miss Kim!

An elegant silver-haired man steps up to the podium. It is John Adams himself, conducting his 1987 opera “Nixon in China” which premiered at the Houston Grand Opera. The overture is sweeping and symphonic with interesting contributions from the muted trumpets. The excellent Met chorus sings what seems to be excerpts from Mao’s little red book. Maybe this won’t be as awful as one expects. Three “secretaries” gesture in unison. The accurate costuming and wigs manage to make the three lovely women as homely as any individual-extinguishing communist might wish. Wait...THAT’s Ginger Costa-Jackson, one of the most beautiful women now onstage made homely by theatrical legerdemain!

President Nixon, ably portrayed by James Maddalena, steps off a rather realistic looking plane that has descended from the skies, accompanied by Janis Kelly’s Pat. They are greeted by Russell Braun’s Chou En-Lai. Welcoming inanities are mouthed. Oops, I mean sung. Well, sort of. The music begins to resemble Philip Glass’ score to “Koyaanisqatski” released in 1982. If ears could glaze over like eyes, they would have. The libretto is excruciatingly tedious; in Scene 2 in Chairman Mao’s study, political apothegms masquerading as aphorisms are exchanged. Scene 3 is a banquet in the Great Hall of the People with identically costumed choristers sitting at huge tables. The libretto consists of a succession of toasts. Are we supposed to consider “Where is the bathroom?” to be a fit line to set to music?

Act II offers a bit more action. In the second scene, poor Pat takes the “revolutionary ballet” seriously and enters the action, to the embarrassment and distress of her hosts. Actually, Mark Morris’ ballet, whether spoof or satire, marks the highlight of the evening. He should consider including more point work in his choreography. The dancers were excellent and the audience enjoyed the humor. Kathleen Kim lets loose her magnificent coloratura in the only truly operatic moment of the evening, although Russell Braun’s Chou En-lai offers a sorrowful coda at the end.

Act III involves all the principles on individual beds, all in a row, as in a dormitory. They reminisce about their pasts and then seem to conclude that the visit was meaningless. So was the opera. One wonders whether political issues are suitable subjects for opera. Doctor Atomic was even more tedious than Nixon in China. That being said, Sherman Edwards composed music and wrote lyrics for “1776” that were musical and moving. Gilbert and Sullivan were able to parody political events of their epoch in a way that left the audience satisfied. Can one help wondering what Sondheim might have done with this landmark event in U.S. history? As audience members are we so desperate for novelty that we will applaud anything new without considering its value? As the young woman in my box opined, “This is boring. I don’t care what happens to any of the characters”. She left early and I wished that I had as well.

-- meche kroop for The Opera Insider

A hit with no misses!

When the Met gets it right, it gets it REALLY right, and such is the case with Simon Boccanegra. Although not a new one, the Giancarlo del Monaco production honors the intent of Verdi to knit together two major themes--the personal and the political. The personal one very much centers on the father-daughter relationship, often worked through in Verdi’s operas. Having sired a child with the daughter of the aristocratic Fiesco, unfortunate former pirate Simon Boccanegra is persona non grata in the 14th Century city-state of Genoa. As librettists Piave and Boito weave the tale, Fiesco will not allow Boccanegra to wed his beloved Maria and their illegitimate child has been turned over to a nurse who has died. The child is lost. Fiesco will not forgive Boccanegra until the child is produced and turned over to him. As the prologue opens Fiesco is grieving the death of his daughter and then Boccanegra also learns of the sad event.

Fiesco’s grief is given haunting expression by the aria “Il Lacerato Spirito”, movingly sung by bass Ferrucio Furlanetto who has a way of making stubborn old men supremely sympathetic. Poor Boccanegra also gets an opportunity to express his grief; baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky, another artist of the highest caliber, immediately tugs at our heartstrings.

As the tale unfolds a quarter century later SB rediscovers his now-grown daughter (the winsome soprano Barbara Frittoli, possessor of a thrilling vibrato), wins her love and loyalty, disappoints the villain Paolo (ably portrayed by baritone Nicola Alaimo) who wanted to call in his political chips to marry the girl, forgives the girl’s beloved Gabriele Adorno (stunningly portrayed by tenor Ramón Vargas) and manages to bless the union and proclaim GA the new doge before dying of poison administered by Paolo. PHEW!

On to the political theme! Simon “has power thrust upon him” by Paolo who gets him elected doge. He assumes the (ermine) mantel of power and becomes a fair and merciful ruler, devoted to bringing peace to the warring factions in Genoa. Having lived through the process of unification of Italy, it seems clear that Verdi was drawn to stories that deal with compromise, peace and reconciliation. It is here that the chorus assumes a major role and does it with its customary excellence.

The musical values are topnotch overall. On Monday night, John Keenan assumed the conductor’s baton and neglected not a single detail in his nuanced reading of the score. Never was a singer drowned out. Every instrumental soloist who introduced a new idea did so with clarity, whether harp, bass clarinet, or oboe. The orchestra told the tale as well as the vocal line and the lyrics.

Sets and costumes were particularly apt. The only quibble I had is that more might have been done with the lighting. It would have been quite special if dawn at the seaside garden of the Grimaldi palace had been lit to suggest dawn, for example. But what a tiny quibble that is in light of this magnificent evening when luxury casting came together with honest production values. Let us cherish these productions before they are retired and replaced with costly and ineffective newcomers.

(c)meche kroop for The Opera Insider

Marilyn Horne's Legacy

I am happy to report that Marilyn Horne’s gift to the world of vocal music has not been diminished by its present incarnation as a presentation by the Weill Music Institute at Carnegie Hall. This yearly festival celebrating the art of the vocal recital has endured since 1997 and assures us that the vocal recital is alive and well here in Gotham. The lovely woman sitting next to me for all the recitals and master classes has come every year from Geneva to attend. I only come from around the corner! Our pleasure was equal.



The first master class was given by German bass Kurt Moll. His unique way of coaching his four young pupils was highly personal; he actually stood face to face with each one and conducted each phrase in a way that pulled out of the pupil exactly the effect he wanted. There was a remarkable difference between the first offering of a song and the concluding one, even though only a half-hour had passed.

The second master class was given by Marilyn Horne herself. Particularly valuable was her work with the German language. In her kind and engaging way, she ensured that no consonant went unpronounced. Phrases that were initially incomprehensible eventually made sense. Art song is, after all, storytelling and we want to understand the words. Hearing a recital the next day in which every word was intelligible prompted me to ask the artist whether he had studied with Ms. Horne and it was not a surprise to learn that he had indeed.

The third master class was taught by Malcolm Martineau, a gifted accompanist from Scotland who worked exclusively on the French style. My French speaking seatmate was initially appalled by the youngsters’ lack of intelligibility, but a huge difference was noted after their brief instruction with Mr. M. and she left beaming. Apparently in French there are no accented syllables and emphasis is gained by stretching out the syllable a bit.

In addition to the three master classes there were two recitals by up and coming singers. The standout was Wendy Bryn Harmer’s offering of Wagner’s Wesendonck Lieder sensitively accompanied by Kristin Okerlund.

The final celebration is on Sunday with contributions from soprano Susanna Phillips, mezzo Jamie Barton, tenor Paul Appleby, and baritone Eugene Chan, not to mention some of our favorite piano partners. Special guest artist is Christine Brewer. The song continues........

--Meche Kroop for The Opera Insider

If scenery could sing - Puccini's Girl of the Golden West

Sometimes an opera is memorable for the brilliance of the singing; sometimes it’s the conducting; sometimes the staging. In the case of La Fanciulla del West, it is Michael Scott’s sets and costumes that linger in my mind a week after the performance. One has the sense of the Wild West all the way through, from the miner’s Polka Saloon in Act I to Minnie’s rustic mountain cabin in Act II and finally a street scene in a California Gold Rush town for Act III. The sense of verisimilitude is absolutely essential to overcome the preposterous idea of cowboys singing in Italian. Somehow it is easier to accept American naval officers in Japan singing in Italian, or even Chinese empresses. But cowboys on their own turf? Give us some help here!

That being said, Puccini’s opera is well-loved as well as well-laughed at; although not often performed it is generally well-attended. It is missing the lovely romantic arias that our ears yearn to hear, but it does offer intensely dramatic orchestration and rich harmonic textures. Whose heart does not pound in time with the insistent plucking of the basses during the fateful card game! The bass clarinet and the harps are put to excellent use.

The cast worked well as an ensemble with the all-male chorus doing their customary excellent work, as did all the comprimario roles. Covering for an indisposed Deborah Voigt was Portuguese soprano Elisabete Matos whose appealing voice and fine acting won over the audience, although Nicola Luisotti’s enthusiastic conducting drowned her out at times.



Marcello Giordani has sounded better, but he has also sounded worse. What happened to his moustache part way through???? Lucio Gallo lent his substantial baritone to the role of the sheriff and Keith Miller did his customary fine job as the Wells Fargo agent.

The staging was awkward in places, especially with regard to the horses. If Minnie and Ramerrez rode off together in the sunset it was not visible from the balcony. A particularly magical moment was when the snow fell on Minnie’s cabin. Indeed, a verismo opera demands a realistic set and in this case it got one. Let us hope that the Met won’t hire some egotistical director who finds some obscure symbolism or subtext in this simple tale of the redemptive power of love. The sets are perfect just as they are and really and truly sing of the Wild West.

-- Meche Kroop for The Opera Insider

A Tale of Two Conductors

Conducting calls attention to itself when it is truly awful or excellent. This week two different conductors in two quite different houses employed their batons equally effectively for two very different operas. On Monday at the Met, Simon Rattle did battle and totally conquered Debussy’s dense orchestration of Pélleas and Mélisande. The score totally “made sense” as he brought out the shimmering harmonies and textures; thick velvety strings underpinned snatches of nascent melodies from the winds. The harp was properly ethereal. Altogether one felt the mystery of the inexplicable story. It is a strange tale; the symbolism is murky and no motivation is given for the characters’ behavior. Several themes kept reappearing: darkness vs. light, hair falling down, arms reaching up (and down), aquatic bodies (fountain, pond, and swamp). But there is nothing that a psychoanalyst could make sense of. Perhaps a mystic could.

The singing was glorious and the acting seemed fine in view of the fact that nothing is comprehensible. Much credit to Magdalena Kozena, Stéphane Degout and Gerald Finley who did their best to make the characters sympathetic. But more credit to Maestro Rattle for making the score tell the tale. In light of its Medieval nature, the late Victorian costuming appears inapposite, although Mélisande’s wig was perfect; she looked like Rapunzel and even when Golaud tried to drag her around by the hair, the wig stayed on her head. The set was ugly and anachronistic, revolving like the rooftop restaurant of the Holiday Inn in Southfield Michigan. There was much talk of being in a dark forest with lots of trees but the set had only one skinny little specimen; the forest scene from Don Carlo was better by far. The pond where Mélisande meets Golaud is devoid of water. The lighting in the last scene seem to indicate the sun setting in two directions. Clearly they were not going for realism here. But the furniture in the castle was quite realistic, going for an “Upstairs, Downstairs” look with lots of uniformed servants and chandeliers, not to mention parquet floors where rough-hewn stone would have served better.

On Tuesday Christopher Fecteau gave a luminous reading of a Humperdinck opera; he apparently made a reduction of the score for a chamber group of seven musicians who must have rehearsed quite a bit to have everything sound so distinct yet so unified. “Königskinder” lacks the singable melodies of “Hänsel und Gretel” and the story is a tragic one, definitely not one for the kiddies. The Dell’Arte Opera Ensemble was wise in their choice of this gem and must be admired for giving New York the opportunity to hear an opera absent from New York stages for nearly a century. The Lynch Theater at John Jay College is a good size for chamber opera. Costumes, set and staging were of the bare bones variety and I would decline to comment on the singing with the exception of soprano Katherine Wessinger who was a most affecting Goose Girl. Her flock of geese were imaginatively created by the four arms of two performers. She and Maestro Fecteau ensured that it was a most well-spent evening. Let’s have more chamber opera in New York City!

-- Meche Kroop for The Opera Insider

Music cures a stammer

I went to see the exquisite film 'The King's Speech' last night. Yes, on Christmas. Ok, so let's be super honest here. We (my mother and I) actually went to see 'Little Fockers' but as it finished we realized that 'The King's Speech' was just starting at the next theater... so we ducked in and stole a couple seats down front.

If you haven't seen it yet, and it just came out so you may well not have, run to the cinema now. Of course most young women know Colin Firth (who plays King George VI, or "Bertie") from his portrayal of Darcy in "Pride and Prejudice" or perhaps as Mark Darcy in "Bridget Jones's Diary." This is an acting challenge of some significant measure, and he carries it off brilliantly.



Early on in the film Bertie makes his first visit to see Lionel Logue (played superbly by Geoffrey Rush), an Australian-born speech therapist, and wanna-be actor. He despairs as his stammer continues throughout the session. Logue asks him to put on some earphones and recite Hamlet's "To be or not to be" speech into a microphone that is recording his own voice. Into the earphones Logue projects music. What music, you ask? Nothing less than the overture to "Le nozze di Figaro." Of course it could have been any music at all, but perhaps the undoubtedly familiar tunes of that music would have made Bertie feel more comfortable than a piece of music with which he might have been less familiar with. I had to smile as the music swelled and of course we later find out that he has spoken the words of Hamlet eloquently and without fault because his mind was occupied with rather more agreeable things than worrying about his stammer.



If you have a spare moment this Boxing Day, or coming into the New Year's Eve long weekend (for some of you at least I hope) do make a visit to your local cinema to see this riveting film.