First "Ernani"

All right, everybody, I'm going to try and get caught up so I can write about "L'Elisir D'Amore," because I'm super excited to tell everyone about the opening show of the Met's 2012-2013 season. But first, I must deal with "Ernani," which I saw last February. Goes to show how seldom I post here. I am, as you surely know by now, an avid Verdi-lover. Violetta from "La Traviata" is my dream role. Gilda of "Rigoletto" and Oscar of "Un Ballo in Maschera" are also roles I'd love to sing someday. "Il Trovatore" is a great work in my opinion. So, I was looking forward to attending a Verdi opera I had never seen or heard before. My expectations, I'm afraid, were sorely disappointed.

Well... one of my biggest complaints about the piece was really the story, so I'll start there. The plot is supposed to revolve around Ernani, an outcast nobleman turned vigilante/criminal. He's in love with Elvira, a lady of noble birth, who is being held prisoner (essentially)by Don Ruy Gomez de Silva, her elderly uncle. De Silva is forcing Elvira into marrying him, but Ernani plans on rescuing her... That is, until his other rival, Don Carlo(king of Spain and a candidate for Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire), steps in. So the three gents duke it out while Elvira begs for Ernani's safety. De Silva apologizes to Don Carlo once he knows Carlo's true identity, and the king forgives his rival, whose political support he needs.

Plans for De Silva's marriage to Elvira continue, but Ernani again attempts to foil them (Elvira pleading for mercy once more) and is again interrupted. But this time, there's a twist: De Silva hides Ernani and refuses to give the outlaw into Don Carlo's custody. Don Carlo takes Elvira as hostage. After a brief scuffle, De Silva and Ernani decide to put aside their quarrel until after they have gotten Don Carlo out of the way. Here, Ernani makes a really stupid move, almost stupider than Faust selling his soul to the Devil: he puts his life in his rival's hands, giving De Silva a hunting horn and promising him that when the horn is sounded, he will kill himself. Facepalm, anyone? 

While Don Carlo awaits news of the election results, a conspiracy has been formed by Don Carlo, Ernani, and their respective supporters to kill the king. But they're not terribly good at plotting, because their prey simply lies in wait for them, and once cannonfire signals his election, he pops out and orders their arrest. Elvira shows up and begs for Ernani's life (forget the other noblemen). This seems to have become a hobby for her. But hey, wait a second-- it actually works this time! Don Carlo has a change of heart, forgives his enemies, and agrees to let Ernani marry Elvira.

All seems well until the wedding night. A fabulous part is underway, when suddenly a stranger appears in a long, dark cloak. Guess who? De Silva! But do any of the guests do anything? No. They just let him slip in and demand the life Ernani promised him. Ernani, if nothing else, is true to his word, and after the horn sounds, he stabs himself and dies in Elvira's arms.

Lame, right? I can deal with melodrama. After all, that's opera in a nutshell. But this was just ridiculous. The characters were flat and predictable (except Don Carlo, strangely...) and I guess Verdi thought "Who cares about triangles? Let's have a love-square!" It was just too much. I almost thought Elvira was going to be a new favorite character; in the opening act, she threatens to stab Don Carlo when he tries to kidnap her. Badass! But she spends the rest of the opera pining and begging for mercy for Ernani every ten minutes. And don't get me started on the boy-toy himself-- he refers to himself in the third person constantly and doesn't really get anything done. But the opera has some great numbers, and with the right cast and the right director, it could be pretty good.

Now, for the review of the Met's "Ernani". Let the roasting begin!

The production was a lavish revival of a past "Ernani" from the 80's. Stunning period costumes, enormous, rich sets-- absolutely beautiful. Our cast starred Angela Meade as Elvira, Marcello Giordani as Ernani, Dmitri Hvorostovsky as Don Carlo, and Feruccio Furlanetto as De Silva. 

I had especially looked forward to this show because of Hvorostovksy and Furlanetto; I can never say enough about these two amazing singers. Hvorostovsky made his character real for me, flesh and blood, multi-dimensional, and he did it with style and panache. It was an absolute pleasure to see Furlanetto in action as De Silva. He sang the role with a sultry richness and deep-rooted emotion that is incomparable. You could hear the years of bitterness in the character's heart through Furlanetto's voice.

Angela Meade, a new star in the Met constellation, has a gorgeous voice. It's smooth, controlled, balanced, easy on the ears. I hope to see her in more operas in the future. I'd love to hear her do something like Nedda in "I Pagliacci" or even Leonora in "Il Trovatore".

Personally, I found Marcello Giordani's performance homogenous, and not in a good way. It felt bland and as flat as his character, which is something that can be helped. He's a great singer, but I think he could work on acting a bit more.

Also, the stage director was pretty unimaginative. The chorus just stood around while the main players acted in front of them, and it was just plain uncomfortable to watch. It felt like the stereotype of opera, not the genuine article. And I think I heard a slight hiccup in the timing between the main singers and the orchestra at the very end of Act II, but that could just be me.

Anyway, for those of you who are trying out opera for the first time and would like to hear some Verdi, I prescribe you steer clear of "Ernani." Go for "Traviata," "Trovatore," "Rigoletto," or perhaps "Un Ballo in Maschera" first. Later in your opera experience, if you really want to, go back for "Ernani," but don't let that be a player in your tender, impressionable, early days of listening to opera.

Until next time,

Your friend and fellow opera-lover,

~R.M.

Il Trovatore, Live from the Met 2011

The Metropolitan Opera, for those of you who don't know, has a new Simulcast program: Every couple of weeks, they broadcast a performance of one of their operas live to movie theaters all over the country (and all over the world!). Hit performances from this program include the 2009 "Lucia di Lammermoor" (Which I reviewed briefly-- see entry "Bloody Lucia"-- I'll probably go deeper into it later) and  "Les Contes D'Hoffman." I am a huge fan of this program-- the productions are awesome, the best singers in the world come to perform them, performers and directors are interviewed during intermissions, and it's just plain fun to get to go to operas in a town where there aren't many opera houses. Tickets are $24 a pop, but it is totally worth it! Check out the program and find a participating theater near you at: 

http://www.metoperafamily.org/metopera/broadcast/hd_events_next.aspx

I looked ahead at their schedule back in 2010 and saw that this year they would be doing "Il Trovatore," and that my favorite "Silver-haired fox" Russian opera star (If you hadn't guessed already, DMITRI HVOROSTOVSKY) would be starring as the ever determined and vengefully cruel Count di Luna. "I'm not missing that," I said, "Not for all the bagels in New York!" So I wrote it down, stuck it to my desk, and waited. FOR A YEAR. I even set aside ticket money sometime before Christmas. I knew I wouldn't have much extra money around, so I held out, and although I was interested in "Le Comte Ory," I did not attend any other simulcasts.

Well, my friends, yesterday I grabbed a pal and my labeled envelope with its precious cargo of pre-purchased tickets and headed to the movies. Here is how it went:

Manrico was sung by Marcelo Álvarez, Leonora by Sondra Radvanovsky, Di Luna by Dmitri Hvorostovsky, and Azucena by Dolora Zajick. I have summarized the plot of "Trovatore" in my previous post, "...But Save the Troubadour!" if you would like to refresh your memory.


The voices were stunning, and that is an understatement. It was thrilling to listen to these people sing. Where Leontyne Price had sounded scratchy and stressed on recording, Radvanovsky soared. Her voice was smooth, velvety, full of grace and power. And her facial expressions and body language were beyond dead on! She is the perfect Leonora. Dolora Zajick also had a soulful and powerful quality to her voice, and she was terrifying as Azucena-- crazy to the core yet still weirdly in control. Hvorostovsky, of course, was brilliant-- Has he ever really been anything less? He really makes himself into his characters, which is one of the many things I respect about him, and he did a great job as di Luna: Fierce, bitter, unrelenting, everything you could ask for in a baritone-villain. But there was something about that tenor...


Now understand, I don't have a prejudice against tenors or against Signore Álvarez for that matter. His voice is lovely. Well-controlled. Elegant. But he was doing something very odd, and I'm surprised that the director let him get away with it. He was making the strangest gestures with his hands, as if he couldn't quite figure out what to do with them, in the middle of sustained notes and ornamentations. A professor of mine once told me, "Onstage, you want to keep things simple. Unnecessary movement confuses the audience and distracts them from what you're really trying to do." Álvarez didn't need to move his hands or arms at all-- the strange gestures he chose indeed confused and distracted me, because instead of looking like a serious, courageous, and love-lorn man, he looked like he had some mix between epilepsy and ADD. No offense to people who really do have these disorders; I understand that it's hard and it's something that can't be helped. All I'm saying is that this singer was doing it, to some extent or another, on purpose, and it was just plain odd.


The setting of this production was really interesting: Regency! That's right, empire-waist dresses, 1830's military uniforms, the whole deal. And the set rotated! It made the transition between scenes so much easier and clearer for the audience. There were a couple of moments were the stage fighting and applications of fake blood and make-up really impressed me. All-in-all, it was a beautifully done show. Now, of this production, I could find only one other fault. It came at the opening of Act III, Scene I. 

Ferrando and his men are waiting outside di Luna's castle, singing of the victory they are going to win, etc. etc., and all of a sudden, Ferrando brings in a bunch of hookers! "All right," I think to myself, "Whatever. This is an opera. An opera at the Met. Surely it can't get too raunchy." BUT IT DID. It was really rather disturbing and vulgar, and hey, I'm a goody-goody who doesn't watch sex on TV, but you know what? Sex never belonged onstage in the first place! Opera is a high-class form of theatre. The Met is a high-class opera house. Nowhere in the opera or libretto are hookers ever mentioned. Verdi obviously never intended for that to be part of the show. There are four adjectives that describe the hookers in the Met's "Il Trovatore": They were cheap, inappropriate, disturbing, and completely unnecessary. It really disappointed me.


But other than the purposeless hookers and Álvarez's hand issues, the opera was fantabulous, to say the very least. Apparently, it will be encoring on May 18, so if you're ready for some intense Verdian fun, order yourselves some tickets or go label an envelope with some ticket-money inside.

Until next time,

Your friend and fellow opera-fan,

R.M.

A Tale of Two Giovannis

Hello, everyone! Before I begin, allow me to explain the purpose of this blog: I am here to write reviews of opera recordings and live performances I happen to catch (such as the "Live From the Met" simulcasts). I'm writing these reviews to help opera lovers such as myself find the best recordings of their favorite shows and also direct them towards ways to access live opera via movie theatres and television. I'm hoping to write these blogs once a week, but seeing as I am human and not a Martian, there is a chance I might miss a date or two. With that said, I shall begin...

Several months ago, an acquaintance of mine introduced me to a version of Mozart's "Don Giovanni" that was made into a film. It starred the ever-astounding Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky as both the Don and Leporello, and went by the titles "Don Giovanni Unmasked" and "Don Giovanni: Leporello's Revenge." Not having heard "Giovanni" before and not being fluent in 18th-century Italian, I waited to look into it until I had heard a full version and knew what the plotline was like. After listening to half of a full version starring Ingvar Wixell, I found that iTunes was selling the soundtrack of the film for $10, so I bought the music immediately and read a translated libretto to figure out the plot. I was absolutely addicted to it. Dmitri Hvorostovsky perfectly captures Giovanni's haughtiness and Leporello's cowardice and makes it sound easy. His slower-paced, lilting rendition of "Deh Vieni Alla Finestra" soon became my favorite song. Gary Reylea, the bass who played the Commendatore, was astounding,and Dominique Labelle made a crystal-clear and dazzling Donna Anna. In fact, I felt that "Don Giovanni: Leporello's Revenge" held only two disappointments: it is NOT a full version of "Don Giovanni;" it is basically an hour-long "Selections From" collection, and Barbara Dunn-Prosser's Donna Elvira was not exactly the shimmering, delicate sort of voice type I would look for. However, it is still an excellent recording, and I would highly recommend it or the film version (available in six parts on Youtube with German subtitles), which is absolutely brilliant.

Now for the second "Giovanni"! I mentioned in the last paragraph that I listened to half of a recording of "Don Giovanni" with Ingvar Wixell before purchasing "Leporello's Revenge." Well, I really liked the cast of that recording, and when I had money, I decided I wanted a full version of the opera so that I could hear it as Mozart meant it to be heard. I was worried that I would not be able to find that recording for sale (I had listened to it at a library), and wound up purchasing the exact thing I had listened to, but in a different cover: the Philips 3-disc "Complete Mozart Edition." The image with the mask is the edition you'll find for sale on the web. It stars Ingvar Wixell as Giovanni, Wladimiro Ganzarolli as Leporello, Kiri Te Kanawa as Donna Elvira, Mirella Freni as Zerlina with Richard Van Allan as her Massetto, Martina Arroyo as Donna Anna paired with Stuart Burrows as Don Ottavio, and finally, Luigi Roni as the Commendatore. I adore Kanawa's voice, and its clarity and emotion definitely lent a great deal of poignancy to the character of Elvira. Ingvar Wixell, too, has become one of my favorite singers since I heard him as Don Giovanni-- his voice can be both gentle and commanding, both sincere and disregarding with the slightest, deftest little change. Down sides to this recording? Well, I think Ms. Arroyo might have been having a hard day (vocally speaking) when this recording was made: in the opening scene, she didn't quite seem to make it to the highest notes (at least, not with the ease and accuracy with which Dominique Labelle pulled it off), and overall, her scales and arpeggios seem a little bit stressed. And normally, I'm not that big of a Mirella Freni fan, but she does make a very charming Zerlina. Only one other thing really, truly irks me, and that is fixable with iTunes. For those of you who don't know, "Don Giovanni" first premiered in Prague in 1786 or 87. Shortly after, Mozart went back to Vienna and tried to play it there, only to have the finicky Viennese rebuff him. So he added a few extra arias and recitatives (such as Ottavio's aria "Dalla Sua Pace") and tried again. Most people today perform and record the Viennese rendition of "Don Giovanni." However, I believe that Mozart really wanted it to be heard as it was done in Prague. On iTunes, these extra bits can be easily taken away from the playlist (which is what I do, but that's just me), although musically and historically, they could be very interesting to listen to. On a whole, though, the Philips recording is lovely, and I think that anyone trying to get acquainted with "Don Giovanni" would really enjoy it.

I hope that this post was helpful to somebody out there, or at least that is was enjoyable to read. Tune in next week for a treatise on my personal tastes and biases, so that it's easier to understand the angle I'm coming from when I comment on these performances. Until then, I remain your friend and fellow opera-lover,

~R.M.