achtergrondartikelen

SALOME – A DANGEROUS SEDUCER OR … ?





There are certain operas that demand a great deal of the imagination from their audiences. Salome, for example. The adolescent heroine is only 15 years old, but Strauss gives her some very intense notes to sing. You need to have a voice like Isolde’s, but you also have to be able to convince the audience that you are a very attractive and very young thing.



Strauss did not initially require all this – his very first Salome, who sang the premiere in Dresden(1905), Marie Wittich, was rather overweight. But Aino Ackté, a very popular Finnish soprano at the time and a very attractive woman, managed to convince Strauss that she was the only real Salome. She took ballet lessons and prepared for the role with the composer himself.



She sang her first Salome in Leipzig in 1907, becoming the first singer in history to perform the “Dance of the Seven Veils” herself. London (1910, under Beecham), Paris and Dresden (under Strauss) followed, and she set a standard that few singers would be able to match. Not that she performed the striptease in its entirety: under the veils she wore a flesh-coloured bodysuit, which suggested nudity.



The very first to emerge completely naked from under the veils, at least on stage, was probably Josephine Barstow, in 1975, first at Sadler’s Wells in London. Shortly afterwards, she repeated the role at the Deutsche Staatsoper in Berlin, in Harry Kupfer’s production, which was also performed at the DNO in Amsterda



Another problem that many directors (and the actress playing the lead role!) may struggle with, is the character herself. Is Salome really a dangerous seductress and sex-crazed nymphomaniac? Perhaps she is just a normal teenager looking for love and affection?

A spoilt girl who grows up in a loveless environment, where people care more about money and appearances than anything else? A victim of the lustful urges of her horny stepfather, who has great difficulties dealing with her own burgeoning sexuality? She, in her naivety, may believe that the “holy” man, with his mouth full of “norms and values”, can actually help her, but then she is brutally rejected. Causing her to seek revenge? Difficult.



And what to do with Jochanaan? The libretto explicitly states that he must be young and attractive, but try finding a bass/baritone with a big voice and an authoritative presence who also has enough appeal for a beautiful princess, who herself is the object of intense admiration and desire. It remains a dilemma.




CDs



CHRISTEL GOLTZ (1954)


This recording may not be one of the best Salomes in history, but it is certainly special. Once you get used to the sharp mono registration, a whole new world of sound opens up to you, one that is unparalleled. The richness and colours of the Vienna Philharmonic at its best – I could
listen to this for hours. For that alone, I wouldn’t want to forgo this recording! Clemens Krauss belonged to Strauss’s inner circle; he also conducted the premieres of a few of his operas, and you can really hear that.

Christel Goltz is an excellent Salome. Self-aware, not very naive, really powerful,
and what a voice! Julius Patzak (Herod), Margareta Kenney (Herodias) and Hans Braun (Jochanaan) are not particularly remarkable, but Anton Dermota’s soulful and tearful Narrabothmakes up for it (Naxos 8111014-15).

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BIRGIT NILSSON (1962)


This recording is considered legendary, but it has never appealed to me. Nor have I ever been impressed by Birgit Nilsson’s interpretation of the title role. Nilsson has a powerful voice, but she is neither seductive, nor erotic or naive.

Eberhard Wächter shouts himself hoarse as Jochanaan and Waldemar Kmennt as Narraboth is nothing short of a huge mistake. What remains is Georg Solti’s exciting conducting

(Decca 4757528).




MONTSERRAT CABALLE (1969)


Montserrat Caballé? Really? Yes, really. Caballé sang her first Salome in Basel in 1957, when she was only 23 years



Salome was also the first role she sang in Vienna in 1958, and I can assure you that she was one of the very best Salomes ever. Certainly on the recording she made in 1969 under the thrilling baton of Erich Leinsdorf. Her beautiful voice, with its whisper-soft pianissimi and velvety high notes, sounded not only childlike but also very deliberately sexually charged, like a true Lolita.

Sherrill Milnes’s very charismatic Jochanaan has the aura of a fanatical cult leader, and Richard Lewis (Herod) and Regina Resnik (Herodias) complete the excellent cast

(Sony 88697579



Caballé as Salome in 1979:






HILDEGARD BEHRENS (1978)


This recording is worth buying mainly because of Narraboth. Wieslaw Ochman sounds so madly in love and so terribly desperate that you really feel sorry for him. Agnes Baltsa’s Herodias is also wonderful: her interpretation of the role is one of the best I know. José van Dam is a very authoritarian Jochanaan: a true preacher and missionary, with very little appeal.

I find Hildegard Behrens’ Salome not very erotic. With her then still slightly lyrical voice, she sounds more like a spoilt child who gets angry when she doesn’t get her way. There is something to be said for his, especially since Behrens is an incredibly good voice actress and
everything she sings can be followed literally. You don’t need a libretto here.

But the real eroticism can be found in the orchestra pit: Herbert von Karajan conducts very sensually

(Warner Classics 50999 9668322).




CHERYL STUDER (1991)


I realise that many of you will disagree with me, but for me Cheryl Studer is the very best Salome of the last fifty years. At least on CD, because she never sang the role in its entirety on stage

(DG 4318102).


Like few others, she knows how to portray the complex character of alome’s psyche. Just listen to her question “Von wer spricht er?”, after which she realises that the prophet is talking about hermother and sings in a surprised, childishly naive way: “Er spricht von meiner Mutter”. Masterful.

Bryn Terfel is a very virile, young Jochanaan (I think it was the first time he sang the role), but the most beautiful thing is Giuseppe Sinopoli erotic connductING




MARIA EWING (1992)


Maria Ewing also is a very good Salome. She too has the looks, and with her aggrieved expression, pouting mouth and wide-open eyes, she could easily be mistaken for a teenager. And she can sing too.

Jochanaan is sung by a very attractive American baritone, Michael Devlin, dressed only in tiny briefs. I am particularly impressed by his muscles, less so by his voice. Nevertheless, the erotically charged tension between him and Salome is palpable – that’s theatre!

Kenneth Riegel is perhaps the best Herod in history. His looks are lecherous and his voice sounds lustful, but his fear of the prophet is also almost physically palpable. Breathtaking.





NADJA MICHAEL (2007 & 2008)


No fewer than two different DVDs starring Nadja Michael have recently been released: from La Scala (2007, directed by Luc Bondy) and from Covent Garden (2008, directed by David McVicar). Both productions are undoubtedly good, although I personally find McVicar’s version much more
exciting. good, although I personally find McVicar’s version much more exciting.



Luc Bondy’s direction (Arthaus Musc 107323) is rather traditional and actually very simple. His setting is minimalist, the colours dark, but the light shining in from the ever-present moon is simply beautiful. Iris Vermillion is a very attractive Herodias, both vocally and visually, and Herod
(a truly excellent Peter Bronder) is portrayed as a really small and miserable little man. Falk Struckmann (Jochanaan) certainly impresses with his voice, but looks too old and too sluggish.


Ljuba Welitch (1949)


Whichever Salome you choose, there is one you absolutely cannot ignore:
Ljuba Welitsch. The recording she made in 1949 under Fritz Reiner,
immediately after her sensational debut at the MET in the role (Sony MHK
262866), has never been equal




On YouTube, you can also hear Welitsch in the final scene of the opera
in the 1944 recording under Lovro von Matacic




Saint François d’Assise by Olivier Messiaen in three audio recordings

Olivier Messiaen was a deeply religious man, and most of his works are inspired by the Christian faith. For his only opera, about Saint François, he also wrote the libretto, which he regarded as his personal act of faith and a kind of testament, and which was at least as important to him as the music itself. He worked on it for seven years, and it premiered in Paris in 1983.

Seiji Ozawa



The performance, with José van Dam in the lead role and conducted by Seiji Ozawa, was once released on CD on the Cybélia label, but unfortunately the recording is very difficult to find nowadays. YouTube offers some solace; you may at least listen to some of it there
(with images!).

Below is an excerpt:


Lothar Zagrosek


Two years later, in 1985, the opera (albeit very much abridged) was performed in Salzburg, conducted by Lothar Zagrosek and starring Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau as François, Rachel Yakar as the Angel and Kenneth Riegel as the Leper. It was broadcast live on ORF and subsequently released on Orfeo (C485 982).

Kent Nagano



In 1998, the opera returned to Salzburg, this time in its entirety. Kent Nagano (who, when he was still Ozawa’s assistant, had rehearsed the opera under Messiaen himself) conducted, and the lead role was played by José van Dam, who had, by then, grown very much into the role. He was
supported by Dawn Upshaw (the Angel) and Chris Merritt (the Leper).

The opera was recorded live during the performances and released on four CDs a year later, giving us the only complete recording of this beautiful work on CD. (DG 4451762).



This recording is also available on YouTube:




The Salzburg performance is rock solid. Chris Merritt does not have the most beautiful voice in the world, but he doesn’t need to. He is supposed to come across as vulnerable and plaintive, and he succeeds admirably. Kenneth Riegel on Orfeo is perhaps slightly more impressive, but you don’t buy an opera for one scene only, although I do like to have that recording as well.

Dawn Upshaw is a radiant, silvery Angel, and more esoteric than Rachel Yakar on Orfeo and her singing is out of this world beautiful. Fiescher-Dieskau, on Orfeo, had really already been retired in 1985, but he agreed to study the role of François (well, just about half of it!). The result is not bad, but to me he sounds not very idiomatic and he does nowhere come near van Dam.

The music is very pleasant to the ear and radiates a certain serenity, which cannot be attributed solely to the influence of Gergorian Chants. At times, it is reminiscent of Debussy’s Peleas and Melisande, with Poulenc also coming to mind.



And Messiaen would not be Messiaen without the frequent use of the ondes Martenot (played on both recordings by his sister-in-law, Jeanne Loriod) and without the chirping of birds.

Saint Francois d’Assis is an opera that lends itself beautifully to listening on CD. It is a true masterpiece, yet you can easily have it playing in the background. You read the synopsis, glance at the dialogues from time to time (which can also be read in advance, as there isn’t that much going on) and then you know what’s happening.. You can easily fold your laundry while listening to it. Or sit staring into space. It has that calming effect.

DNO Amsterdam

In 2008 the opera was (produced (by Pierre Audi) during Holland Festival in Amsterdam with Camilla Tilling (LÁnge), Rodney Gilfry (Saint François), Hubert Delamboye (Le Lépreux), Henk Neven (Frère Léon), Tom Randle (Frère Massée), Donald Kaasch (Frère Élie), Armand Arapian (Frère Bernard), Jan Willem Baljet (Frère Sylvestre), André Morsch (Frère Rufin)

https://www.medici.tv/en/operas/saint-francois-d-assise-olivier-messiaen-pierre-audi-de-nederlandse-opera






KEES VLAARDINGERBROEK : VIVALDI EN DE ANDEREN

Tekst: Ger Leppers

Toen ik mij, als jonge puber, in de jaren zestig van de vorige eeuw voor klassieke muziek begon te interesseren, bestonden er verschillende kleine, handzame boekjes die de geïnteresseerde leek hielpen om vertrouwd te raken met die voor hem nieuwe wereld. Er waren door gerenommeerde musici en musicologen geschreven Prisma- en, Ooievaarpockets die voor het grote publiek een overzicht gaven van de muziekgeschiedenis en een beschrijving van de belangrijkste meesterwerken, alsmede mooi uitgevoerde, nog geen zestig bladzijden dikke boekjes over opera en ballet die de wereld werden ingezonden onder de weidse naam Arti Beeldencyclopedie.

Ik verslond ze allemaal en heb er veel van opgestoken. Zulke misschien wat eenvoudige, maar toegankelijke en nuttige boeken voor het grote publiek zijn tegenwoordig een stuk dunner gezaaid, heb ik de indruk. Maar veel van die toegankelijkheid, in combinatie met gedegenheid, en vooral met het aanstekelijk didactisch plezier dat die boekjes uitstraalden, vond ik dezer dagen tot mijn genoegen terug in ‘Vivaldi en de anderen’ van de muziekwetenschapper Kees Vlaardingerbroek.

Kees Vlaardingerbroek was van 2006 tot 2023 artistiek leider van de onvolprezen hoofdstedelijke Zaterdagmatinee, dat vlaggenschip van het vaderlandse concertleven. Sedert zijn terugtreden is hij internationaal actief als artistiek adviseur en publicist.

‘Vivaldi en de anderen’ wekt in de eerste plaats de indruk dat de schrijver het boekje nou eens voor zijn eigen plezier heeft geschreven. “Wanneer ik in Italië ben,” schrijft Vlaardingerbroek, “heb ik nog altijd het gevoel intenser te leven dan in een ander land: het eten smaakt beter, de steden zijn mooier, de mensen levendiger.” Dit boek is dus de neerslag van een levenslange liefde voor Italië in het algemeen en een hommage aan zijn componisten in het bijzonder. Bij alle gedegenheid heeft het boek daardoor hier en daar ook subjectieve en persoonlijke trekjes gekregen, die evenwel eerder bijdragen tot een warme en betrokken, persoonlijke toon dan dat zij in het geheel ook maar enigszins zouden detoneren.

“Wat maakt Italiaanse muziek Italiaans?’ luidt de titel van de inleiding. Op deze vraag geeft Vlaardingerbroek een beknopt antwoord, vooral door de muziek uit het schiereiland te contrasteren met de Duitse, die in de loop der tijden door menigeen als de antithese ervan is gezien. De schrijver weet dat bijzondere karakter van de Italiaanse muziek enigszins tastend te omschrijven, terwijl hij tegelijk laat zien hoe weinig absoluut de tegenstelling met de Duitse muziekwereld is.

Daarna volgt een twintigtal componistenportretten, capita selecta uit de Italiaanse muziekgeschiedenis. Ze worden steeds voorafgegaan door met zorg gekozen, vermakelijke en/of instructieve citaten, soms uit verste uithoeken van de wereld van de musicologie.

A2v-A3r, Ioannis Petraloysii Praenestini Missarum Liber Tertius, door Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina, John J. Burns Library, Boston College.

Onmisbare grootheden als Palestrina, Monteverdi, Vivaldi, Bellini, Verdi, Puccini, Dallapiccola en Berio figureren in dit bonte tableau de la troupe naast minder bekende, maar de schrijver niet minder dierbare toondichters als Tarquinio Merula, Agostino Steffani, Francesco Bartolomeo Conti en niet te vergeten de componiste Antonia Padoani Bembo.

No portrait of Antonia Padoani Bembo is known to have survived. Confusingly, the self-portrait (above) of the French painter Élisabeth Sophie Chéron (1648-1711) is regularly used in writings and CDs dealing with Antonia’s life and works.

Vlaardingerbroek bepleit hun zaak met verve, in heldere taal en vaak met mooie, meeslepend vertelde anekdotes. Doordat deze minder bekende figuren eveneens in het licht van de schijnwerpers worden gezet, is het boek bovendien ook voor de meer gevorderde muziekliefhebber lonende lectuur.

“The Concert” (ca. 1673-1675), a 56 × 44 cm oil on panel by Gerard ter Borch (1617-1681), located in the Gemäldegalerie, Berlin.

De opzet van ‘Vivaldi en de anderen’ brengt onvermijdelijk met zich mee dat menigeen hier en daar een dierbare componist zal missen (in mijn geval met name Bruno Maderna, componist van onder meer een fabelachtig mooi derde hoboconcert), maar daar staat veel tegenover: al die voor mij nieuwe componisten die ik dankzij dit boek heb leren kennen, de talrijke met plezier aanvaarde luistertips, en de prachtige, met zorg en liefde gekozen en door de uitgever fraai gereproduceerde illustraties.

Als de schrijver in zijn boek een doorlopend verhaal had verteld, had de lezer hier en daar wat meer context kunnen meekrijgen, dat is zo ongeveer het enige bezwaar dat ik tegen deze uitgave zou kunnen inbrengen. Maar ook in deze vorm, als een twintig-gangenmaaltijd waar men zijn vingers bij aflikt, heeft ‘Vivaldi en de anderen’ ten volle bestaansrecht.

Kees Vlaardingerbroek: Vivaldi en de anderen. Uitgeverij IJzer, Utrecht. 160 blz. 25 euro.

The Opera Rara recording of Il Pirata, one of the most beautifulbel canto operas

Il Pirata, for me one of Bellini’s most beautiful operas, is for many people nothing more than a title. Understandable, as it is rarely performed nowadays and (studio) recordings are scarce. Incomprehensible, because this opera is not only indescribably beautiful but also incredibly good!

Take the final scene alone: it is among the best Bellini ever wrote. You can already hear Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor in it. And the opening chorus from the third act, “Che rechi tu”, can be found again, almost exactly the same, in Verdi’s Macbeth and Luisa Miller.


Until recently, I was only familiar with three studio recordings of the opera, featuring Montserrat Caballé, Maria Callas and Lucia Aliberti as Imogene. For convenience, I am not including the Saturday Matinee performance with Nelly Miricioiu, as it was never released (a shame!).

Carmen Giannattasio’s timbre is much lighter and less dramatic than Callas’s and much more rigid than Caballé’s, but if you do not think about their voices for a moment, you cannot help but admi tthat she has a lot to offer, especially in her mad scene.

I have more difficulties with the gentlemen. Ludovic Tézier is an excellent singer, but bel canto… no, his baritone is just not supple enough. In the parts where he has less coloratura to sing and can
simply be authoritative, he is nevertheless thoroughly convincing.

José Bros was once considered one of the most promising young bel canto singers of his generation, but he never really fulfilled that promise. He has excellent high notes and good coloratura, but his voice occasionally sounds constricted.

David Parry, one of today’s greatest bel canto specialists, conducts with great enthusiasm.

Whole opera with Montserrat Caballé:


Maria Callas sings “Oh! S’io potessi”:





And Happily, there is a YouTube recording of Nelly Miricioiu in Amsterdam!

Armide: Christoph Willibald Gluck considered it his best work.

Do you agree?

Agostino Carracci (su disegno di Bernardo Castello), Frontespizio della prima edizione illustrata della Gerusalemme Liberata, Genova, 1590


One might wonder why Torquato Tasso’s Gerusalemme liberata has inspired so many different composers from so many centuries. And not the entire epic, but specifically the Armida episode. Is it because of the magical-realistic story full of undisguised hatred, revenge, anger and passion? With characters (human or witch) torn apart by their conflicting feelings, their inner struggle between love and duty? I cannot say. Can you?



The first Armida that remains known to the general public was composed by
Jean-Baptiste Lully, based on the libretto by Philippe Quinault. Gluck used the same libretto a hundred years later for his fifth “French” opera. He himself considered Armide to be his very best work, but the public (and history) thought otherwise.


I myself have never been particularly fond of it either. But the longer I have been involved with opera, the more I have come to appreciate it.

Francesco Hayez, “Rinaldo en Armida”


The opera has some magnificent arias and ensembles, with the heart-rending ‘Enfin, il est en ma puissance’ as an absolute highlight. It is a hysterical cry from the heart of the furious sorceress Armide, who has fallen in love.

I know of only two complete recordings of Gluck’s work: one conducted by ichard Hickox on EMI (6407282) and one conducted by Marc Minkowski on Archiv (4596162). This is remarkable, considering that the opera is being erformed quite often these days.




Hicox’s recording (3 CDs) is over 26 minutes longer than Minkowski’s. I don’t know the opera well enough to be able to say whether Minkowski has made any cuts, but to be honest, I don’t think so. His tempi are simply on the fast side – except for the overture, where he is proceeds with some caution.


Hickox’s sluggishness becomes quite irritating after a while and I simply dozed off a few times. The thirty-year-old recording still sounds beautiful, although the sound does not match the clarity and
transparency of Minkowski’s.


When it comes to the singers, the Frenchman easily beats his English colleague. I’m not a big fan of Mireille Delunsch, and I think her “Enfin il est en ma puissance” on Minkowski’s recording falls short of the interpretations by, for example, Véronique Gens or Anna Catarina Antonacci (why was the performance with Antonacci never officially recorded?). Nevertheless, despite her perfect diction and impeccable understanding of the text, Felicity Palmer (Hickox’s recording) is nomatch for her.


Charles Workman (Renaut) strikes a perfect balance between the heroic and the more lyrical – even my beloved Anthony Rolfe Johnson cannot compete with that.

Laurent Naouri is a very macho Hidraot, but what gives Minkowski’s recording that “superplus” is Ewa Podles’ performance in the small role of La Haine (Hate). Her voice and delivery will make your head spin. She is without peers: an alto with such a deep sound, with all the high notes at her disposal and she will leave you speechless with her interpretation!

HIckox:

Minkowski:




And a curiosity: a complete Armide from Madrid, 1985, with Montserrat ArmideCaballé:

Five recordings of Rossini’s Il Turco in Italia

Madame de Pompadour portrayed as a Turkish lady in 1747 by Charles-André van Loo;

The Orient! What did we know about it in those far gone days? It was exotic, adventurous and exciting. All the men there were macho, super attractive and potent. And they smoked opium. All the women were beautiful, graceful, mysterious and seductive. It smelled of amber and wild jasmine….

Man In Oriental Costume (“The Noble Slav”), oil on canvas, by Rembrandt, 1632. A significant example of European emulation of Ottoman dress for the purpose of portraying a dignified, elite appearance.



It was so incredibly far away and unknown – no wonder we were enchanted by it. No wonder, too, that our dreams sometimes ran wild. But the dreams turned out to be good for something, because they gave us the most beautiful works of art, including operas. Rossini’s Il Turco in Italia is one of them.

Believe it or not (believe it!), Turco is very similar to Mozart’s Cosi van tutte. Even the music is often reminiscent of it. The story: a Don Alfonso-like poet without inspiration, a kind of evil genius really, devises an intrigue in which he then manipulates all the characters as if they were puppets, so that everyone ends up with (almost) everyone else, but in the end everything does turn out well. Or not. In any case, our Prosdocimo tells a wonderful story.

I wonder what the ideal Fiorilla should sound like. On the recordings known by me, she is sung by all voice types: from a super light coloratura soprano to a dark coloratura mezzo with chest tones. Somehow, none of the ladies really appeal to me, not even Maria Callas, although she comes close to what I would like to hear in this role.

DVD’S

Zurich, 2002


In 2002, Il Turco was staged in Zurich. The lead role was played by an old hand, Ruggiero Raimondi. His Selim is undoubtedly exciting and erotic, and he compensates for the wear and tear of his voice with overwhelming acting and tremendous charisma.

Oliver Widmer is in fine form as the cynical poet Prosdocimo, and Paolo Rumetz plays a delightfully dim-witted Geronio. The problem is Cecilia Bartoli. (Please don’t hit me, it’s just my opinion!) She is undoubtedly a virtuoso, but I find her mannerisms very irritating and her dark timbre completely unsuitable for the role.

The whole thing is cheerful, with bright colours and crazy costumes: the gypsies look like a combination of Volendam people and Peruvians (Arthaus Musik 100 369).


Pesaro 2007

In Pesaro in 2007, a very naturalistic-looking Turco was recorded, with only young, unknown singers in the leading roles. The fact that they, with the possible exception of Marco Vinco (Selim), have remained unknown, does not say everything, but it does say a lot.

Nevertheless, there is much to enjoy. The characters are wonderfully recognisable, the colours are beautiful and the action follows the libretto closely. Definitely enjoyable! (Naxos 2.110259)

Genoa, 2009

One of the newer recordings on DVD is from 2009 at the Teatro Carlo Felice in Genoa. Well, new… the production is more than 40 years old and was first seen in 1983. 

That’s okay, because it’s still very entertaining, although I must admit that I sometimes feel a little dizzy from everything that’s happening on the stage: acrobats, fire-eaters, ballerinas, Arlecchinos and so on. Commedia dell’Arte at its best. 

Myrtò Papatanasiu is a beautiful Fiorilla and Simone Alaimo a delightful Selim, although I think he is performing slightly below his usual high standard. Antonino Siragusa is also a tiny bit disappointing as Narciso (Arthaus Musik 101 39).

CD’s

Milan, 1954

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Maria Callas sang the role of Fiorilla in Rome in 1950 and four years later recorded it in the studio with La Scala in Milan. Gianandrea Gavazzeni conducted an “all-star cast” – most of the names make our mouths water today. But, apart from the fact that they were all truly fantastic, we have to ask ourselves whether it still sounds adequate to our ears. 

Yes, Nicola Rossi-Lemeni would still be able to do it today, but the rest, including La Divina? With her, I often get the feeling that I am in the wrong opera and that I’m really listening to Anna Bolena. (Warner 0825646340880)

Milan, 1958


I absolutely cannot ignore Sesto Bruscantini who is a truly irresistible Selim. Scipio Colombo is delightful as the (in his interpretation) comic villain Prosdocino, and as Donna Fiorilla we hear one of the most delightful light sopranos of the time: Graziella Sciutti. A little soubrette-like, but so agile, and with such a wonderful timbre! The rest of the voices are good, but not exceptional, but Nino Sanzogno’s conducting – light and sparkling – does the opera justice. The live recording from 1958 (Milan) is rather dull. Nevertheless, it is a special document of a time that is now truly gone (Myto 00193).

Sesto Bruscantini and Graziella Sciutti in “Credete alle femmine”:

Two faces of Robert Wilson

Walk like Egyptian: Aida in Brussels 2004


Don’t expect any elephants in this Aida from Brussels. Also, no big mass scenes and – mainly – don’t expect emotions. With Robert Wilson, everything has to be minimalist and aesthetically pleasing, which undeniably makes for nice pictures but it makes for a very large discrepancy with the music. The singers move very slowly, almost in slow motion, and their (sparse) gestures are stylised after ancient Egyptian drawings.



No one touches anyone and no one is even looking at anyone else. All the characters are mainly preoccupied with themselves and their own suffering, which, according to the director, may be the key to the drama. For me it is too far-fetched.

The staging is dominated by the colours black and blue, there are hardly any sets and/or props. Deadly dull.

The truly amazing singers seem to be trapped in a straitjacket of emotionless acting, although Ildiko Komosi (Amneris) occasionally manages to sneak in a gesture. Together with Norma Fantini (Aida), she provides most of the tension and emotion, and their duet in the first act is a vocal highlight.

Marco Berti is an excellent Radames with beautiful high notes and a touch of “Pavarotti” in his timbre, and the rest of the cast is also first-rate. Kazushi Ono conducts calmly, with great attention to detail.

Returning to the director: Robert Wilson seems to repeat himself over and over again. If you have seen one of his productions, you have seen them all. Almost..

But then……

Nothing less than phenomenal: Die Dreigroschen in Amsterdam 2009


At the end of April 2009, the renowned Berliner Ensemble visited Amsterdam. They brought with them Die Dreigroschenoper, in the magnificent staging Robert Wilson had given to the company two years earlier. Worth knowing: the Berliner Ensemble is based in the Theater am Schiffbauerdam where the work was premiered in 1928.



All four performances at the Muziektheater were sold out and audiences responded with frenzied enthusiasm. Perfectly justified because everything was just great. The production, the direction, the lighting, the costumes, the movements…. And the performance, of course, because isn’t that why we go to the music theatre?



The performance was very cabaret-like, in the good sense of the word. It was grotesque and vaudeville-like with lots of slapstick, (film) quotes and whatnot without it becoming a complete farce. Occasionally I was reminded of Otto Dix.

In a word: breathtaking. And of course it was a treat to be able to hear all those well-known and still oh-so-current songs again, but now as part of a whole.



The performance did take a long time (yes folks, it was not only Wagner who took his time), over three hours, but then also you got a lot. For a start, the complete dialogues.

Stefan Kurt was a formidable, androgynous dandy Macheath and Angela Winkler a very moving Jenny. Also great were Jürgen Holtz as J.J. Peachum and Axel Werner as Tiger Brown, and Christina Drechsler was a terrific Polly.

Hans Werner Henze and The Bacchantes: Die Bassariden

Curious man, that Henze. Once flirting with communism and dreaming of a world revolution, he was also an aesthete and an erudite which – in part – made him decide to bid farewell to Germany and move to Italy in 1953.

His music has always been highly theatrical: he never liked the strict rules of serialism and felt a close connection with opera, which, unlike the hardliners of the avant-garde at the time, he had never labelled as obsolete. His discography therefore lists more than 20 musical theatre works, performed with great regularity.

L-R: Chester Kallman, W. H. Auden and Hans Werner Henze

Die Bassariden is among Henze’s finest and most important compositions. The English Language libretto, after ‘The Bacchantes’ by Eurypides, was written by W.H.Auden (does anyone remember the ‘Funeral Blues’ from Four Weddings and a Funeral?) and Charles Kallman.

It became a massive, through-composed score, anchored in the Wagnerian tradition (it is whispered that the librettists insisted that Henze, before turning to composing, study the ‘Götterdammerung’) and constructed as a four-movement symphony with voices.

Pentheus being torn apart by Agave and Ino, Attic red-figure vase painting, c. 450-425 BC

The story of King Pentheus, who, by wanting to banish all sensuality, comes into conflict with Dionysus and his adepts and is ultimately torn apart by his own mother, serves as a metaphor for the conflict between Eros and Ratio.

©Credit…Anny Madner/Archive of the Salzburg Festival

The opera premiered (in the German translation) at the Salzburg Festival in August 1966. It became a huge success, even prompting one of the reviewers to cry that Richard Strauss had finally got a successor. Henze laughingly and rightly dismissed this with a simple “where are the man’s ears?!”

A few years ago, the live-recorded premiere performance (in German translation) was released by Orfeo (C 605 032 1). The highly emotional playing of the Wiener Philharmoniker, under the inspired direction of Christoph von Dohnányi, reaches unprecedented heights.

Kostas Paskalis is very credible in his role of Pentheus and Kerstin Meyer moves as Agave.It’s just a pity no libretto was included, after all, it’s not everyday fare.

[Editorial: A later performance of the English Language version was released on the Musica Mundi label, conducted by Gerd Albrecht, but this revised edition omits the interlude]

Das Urteil der Kalliope, interlude from Die Bassariden :

Jewish music pur sang: Ernest Bloch

Ernest Bloch, Oct. 1948. Oreg. Hist. Soc. Research Lib., bb006122

I am often asked if there is such a thing as Jewish music ….. Well, there certainly is! Just take Ernest Bloch. He was born in 1880 in Geneva in an assimilated family. Around the age of twentyfive he became interested in everything to do with Judaism and translated it into his language – music.

“I’m interested in the Jewish soul” he wrote to Edmund Fleg, cantor and librettist of his opera Macbeth. “I want to translate all this into music.”

He developed a very personal style: his compositions reflect the atmosphere of Hebrew chant, without actually being a literal imitation of it. His intention was not to reconstruct old Hebrew music, but to write his own, good music, because, as he said, he was not an archaeologist. He succeeded.

Cello Concerto

Before the war, he was among the most played and appreciated composers. People even called him the fourth great ˜B,” after Bach, Beethoven and Brahms. It is not that people now no longer know his name, but they usually do not get any further than his cello concerto.

Baal Shem

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For the Baal Shem Suite (1923), one of his best-known works, he was inspired by Israel ben Eliezer (Baal Shem Tov), the founder of modern Chassidism, a movement that originated in eighteenth-century Poland and was based on mysticism, spiritualism and magical doctrines. It proclaimed a kind of bliss that could only be achieved through music, dance and song because that was the only way to achieve direct contact with God.

Of all the performances of those made of “Baal Shem” (and there are many), this one, played by Hagai Shaham and accompanied by Arnon Erez is for me one of the dearest. Shaham’s tone is round and warm with a healthy dose of “schmalz”. And though he often balances just on the edge, nowhere does he degenerate into banalities.

Seasons without the summer



The symphonic poems Hiver-Printemps are very evocative. Together with the beautiful song cycle ‘Poèmes d’Automne’, composed for the texts of Béatrix Rodès, Bloch’s lover at the time, and sung very emotionally by Sophie Koch (Kleenex at hand?), they form, as it were, a kind of ˜Seasons”, from which only the summer is missing.

The suite for viola is among Bloch’s best compositions and one cannot imagine a better performance than Tabea Zimmermann’s.

The Deutches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin, con Sloane, plays in a very animated way



Dalia Atlas dirigeert symfonische werken van Bloch

 Macbeth by Ernest Bloch. Ever heard of?

Revolutions!

ANDREA CHÉNIER

Appeal of the last victims of terror in the prison of St. Lazarus. Chénier appears seated at the foreground’s center.. Painting by Charles Louis Müller, (Musée de la Révolution française).

For me, Andrea Chénier is one of the best and most beautiful operas ever. I think the music is nothing less than divine and the story is timeless. It remains current, perhaps now more than ever. The tyrant must be cast off his throne and the people must take control. Surely, we all agree on that?

Ten days before Chénier’s death, the painter Joseph-Benoît Suvée completed this portrait of him – not exactly the romantic figure we would cast. On the right Aimée de Coigny, La Jeune Captive

If only it were that simple! Anyone who grew up in a post-revolutionary totalitarian regime knows how much horror it brings. One terror is replaced by another.

This, at least for me, is the main theme in Giordano’s biggest hit. I don’t think the real lead role is the actual poet, André Chénier (did you know that Giordano used Chénier’s poems in his arias?) nor his beloved Maddalena. It is the French Revolution, which, as Gérard (once Maddalena’s houseboy and now one of the revolutionary leaders) bitterly observes, devours its own children.

Domingo

To my great surprise, I read that Domingo didn’t much like the part of Andrea Chénier. He loved the opera, but the role, one of the toughest in the ‘lirico-spinto’ repertoire, was not really interesting for him dramatically. For him, Chénier was ‘an idealist who always has his head in the clouds’. And yet it was one of the operas he loved to sing!

I myself think the role of the poet/revolutionary fits him like a glove. Passion for love and enormous involvement in everything that happens in the world were – and still are – his trademarks.

He sang his first Cheniér in 1966 in New Orleans, as the last-minute replacement for Franco Corelli, but that was not his first performance of the opera. In the 1960/61 season he sang The Incredible and The Abbot, in Mexico.

My favourite CD recording was recorded in 1976 by RCA (GD 82046). The cast is delectable. Renata Scotto sings Maddalena, Sherrill Milnes is Gérard and in the small roles we hear, among others, Jean Kraft, Maria Ewing, Michel Sénéchal and Gwendolyn Killebrew. James Levine, who conducts the National Philharmonic Orchestra, understands exactly what the opera is about. Tear jerkingly beautiful.

Scotto sings ‘La Mamma morta’:

In 1981 the opera in Vienna was recorded for TV. That recording has since been released on DVD (DG 073 4070 7). Gabriela Beňačková, one of the most underrated singers in history, sings a Maddalena of flesh and blood. Horrifyingly beautiful and moving.

Piero Cappuccilli is a Gérard among thousands and the small roles are also filled by great singers: Madelon is sung by none other than Fedora Barbieri. Otto’s Schenk’s production is a feast for the eyes.

LES DIALOGUES ES CARMÉLITES

There are those operas that you just can’t spoil and Les Dialogues des Carmélites is one of them. For Poulenc, melody is the centre of the universe. His music is so poignantly beautiful and his composition so expressive that you don’t really need a director.


The opera’s themes are sacrifice, martyrdom, revolutions and ideologies, but those are just the side lines, because the main theme is an all-devouring fear that makes it impossible to live or die: “Fear is a terrible disease. I was born of fear, in fear I live and in fear I shall die. Everyone despises fear, so I am condemned to be despised.”

Just few recordings:

Milan, 1957




The world premiere of Dialogues des Carmélites took place on 26 January 1957 at La Scala in Milan, in an Italian translation. The cast reads like a ‘who’s who’ in the opera world, because, ask yourself: were there any bigger names in those days?

Blanche was sung by Virginia Zeani, a singer with a full, large and dramatic voice, that was suitable for both Violetta and Tosca. Marie was played by Gigliola Frazzoni, one of the best Minnies (La fanciulla del West) in history. And Madame Lidoine was given to Leyla Gencer.

With Fiorenza Cossotto, Gianna Pederzini, Eugenia Ratti and Scipio Colombo in the smaller roles, the opera sounded less lyrical than we are used to nowadays, almost veristic even. But that made the dramatic effect even more poignant.

Virginia Zeani and Francis Poulenc, Milano 1957

In The Operatic PastCast, Virginia Zeani talks about Poulenc, the influence the opera has had on her life, her colleagues and the production in Milan.

The entire performance from Milan, fantastically conducted by Nino Sanzogno, is on YouTube. Do not miss it!





Paris, 1957


The Paris premiere of Dialogues des Carmélites followed six months later. On 21 June 1957, the opera, now in French, was presented at the Théâtre National de l’Opéra. Blanche was sung by Poulenc’s beloved soprano Denise Duval. Duval’s voice (girlishly naive, light, almost ethereal) fitted Blanche like a glove.


The rest of the cast, including Régine Crespin as Madame Lidoine and Rita Gorr as probably the best Mère Marie ever, was also chosen by Poulenc himself



Régine Crespin (Madame Lidoine) in “Mes chères filles”:


he orchestra was conducted by Pierre Dervaux and I can be very brief about him: there is no better. Full stop. (Warner 08256483211)



Milan, 2004


Robert Carsen’s production of Dialogues des Carmélites is one of the absolute highlights in the history of De Nationale Opera in Amsterdam.

Trailer from Amsterdam:


In February 2004, the production was filmed at La Scala but I am not entirely happy with it. My disappointment mainly relates to Dagmar Schellenberger’s performance as the lead role.

Admittedly, it is not easy to emulate the unforgettable Susan Chilcott (she died in 2003 of breast cancer, only 40 years old), and Schellenberger indeed cannot not do it. In the beginning  her strong tremolo and her not always pure notes are irritating.. But as the opera progresses, she gains a great deal of credibility, and through her brilliant acting and complete abandonment, she makes the development of her character very tangible. And almost as a matter of course, her singing also becomes more beautiful and softer.

The role of Madame de Croissy is played by one of the best singing actresses of our time, Anja Silja. Her performance is truly breathtaking, and even though her voice is not that steady anymore – it suits the character of an old and mortally ill prioress very well. Her death struggle makes for unprecedentedly thrilling theatre, and it is a great credit to Carsen (and the rest of the cast) that the scenes that follow do not make us lose interest.

Muti conducts with verve and knows exactly how to strike the right tone. He really succeeds in translating the spectre of the revolution and its excesses into sound. He is at his very best, however, in the lyrical, contemplative scenes, and  in his hands the chilling ending reaches a truly blood-curdling climax. Make sure you have a big bag of Kleenex within reach, because you really won’t keep it dry (Arthaus 107315).

Below is the trailer:

Hamburg, 2008


The opera came to Hamburg in 2008, it was directed by Nikolaus Lehnhoff.

His Blanche, Alexia Voulgaridou, is very much like Liu: sweet, scared but steadfast and very impressive.



Kathryn Harries as Madame de Croissy is even more impressive than Anja Silja. She acts not only with her whole body but also with her perfectly used voice. Her fear is physically palpable and her death scene cannot leave anyone unmoved.

Unfortunately, Gabrielle Schnaut’s Mère Marie is not of the same calibre. With the remnants of the once so imposing voice, she only causes irritation: not one note is pure and her terrible wobble feels like torture to your ears. How different then is warm and sweet Madame Lidoine, here sung incredibly lovely by Anne Schwanewilms!

The staging is very simple and there are hardly any sets, which is not at all disturbing. And the final scene is almost better than Carsen. (Arthouse Musik 101494)

Trailer:

Paris, 2013

You just never know with Olivier Py, though I have to say that, apart from the awful Romeo et Juliette in Amsterdam, most of his productions are usually excellent. So too his Dialogues des Carmélites, recorded in Paris in 2013.

Patricia Petibon is a singer with a tendency to exaggerate, but here she is perfectly matched as Blanche. Watching her, I involuntarily get visions of Edith Piaf. Which of course suits the role very well: a small, skinny, frightened bird.



Her timbre is close to that of Denise Duval, but she lacks her carrying power and – mainly – her lyricism. Still, there is no denying that the role of Blanche is more or less tailor-made for her.

Sophie Koch is a strange choice for Marie. She looks far too young and lacks the confident superiority and power of persuasion so characteristic of the role. And the contrast with Lidoine (a wonderful Veronique Gens) is not great enough. Rosalind Plowright is an excellent Croissy and Sandrine Piau a delightful Constance.

Py uses the orchestral interludes to showcase religious scenes, including the evocation of the Last Supper and the Crucifixion. Sometimes a little “too much”, but the last scene, with the dark starry sky, brings a lump to my throat (Erato 0825646219537).

Here is the trailer:


Film adaptation:


Did you know that the story of Dialogues des Carmélites was filmed in 1960? In the film you can see, among others, Jeanne Moreau as Mère Marie and Pascale Audret as Blanche.


Below is the last scene:



The whole film:


Spannende Andrea Chénier uit Bologna
DIALOGUES DES CARMÉLITES bij Deutsche Oper am Rhein in Düsseldorf, oktober 2010