Showing posts with label Sherrill Milnes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sherrill Milnes. Show all posts

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

...But save the Troubadour!

Hi, there! I know I skipped last week-- please, don't throw anything at me-- I was rather sick, and having a long day. Heck, I've been having a lot of long days this week!

So, anyway, this week I want to write about Verdi's "Il Trovatore," "The Troubadour." Considered one of Verdi's three greatest operas (the other two being "Rigoletto" and "La Traviata"), this dark and dramatic work was written in 1854. Verdi, of course, was known for using very dark themes in his operas, and I'd say this one about tops the scale in that regard; it tells "A story of gypsy vengeance and mistaken identity." Set in 16th-century Spain, the opera is divided into four "Parts:" "The Duel," "The Gypsy," "The Gypsy's Son," and "The Ordeal."  The opera opens as Count de Luna's guards tell the tale of his sad past: the Count once had a brother who, while still a baby, grew sick. An old gypsy woman who was found near the baby's cradle was accused of cursing him and burned at the stake, but the gypsy's daughter stole the Count's baby brother. A child's skeleton was found in the ashes of the flame the gypsy had burned in, but the Count's father insisted that the baby boy was still alive and made the Count swear never to stop looking for his brother. Next, we see the Count's preparations to woo the fair Leonora thwarted by his enemy, the Troubadour Manrico, who Leonora is in love with. Leonora comes out of her chambers, and in the darkness mistakes the Count for the Troubadour. A bit of hectic madness ensues, the misunderstanding is cleared up between Manrico and Leonora, but Count de Luna demands a fight, and Manrico is willing to give him satisfaction. The two go off to have a duel, and the first "Part" ends. In the next part, a bandaged Manrico and a caravan of gypsies are seen working merrily away to the tune of a very famous chorus, "Chi de gitano" or the "Anvil chorus." But their merriment does not last long; Azucena, an old gypsy woman, sings a haunting aria narrating the death of her mother, who was burned at stake [*HINT HINT HINT*]. Azucena then can only repeat the words her mother said before she died: "Avenge me! Avenge me!" The gypsies leave to seek other amusements, leaving Azcena and Manrico alone. Manrico asks his mother what is the matter, and she tells an even darker tale as she goes through the finer details of what happened the day her mother was burned. Moments later, Manrico receives intelligence that Leonora, who thinks Manrico is dead, is about to join a nunnery. Despite his mother's warnings, Manrico leaves to stop Leonora before he loses her forever. Little does he know that the Count is already there, poised to kidnap Leonora. Manrico, however, has brought help, and the Count's forces are outnumbered. Manrico wins the day and takes Leonora back to his hideout. Thus ends the second part.

Phew... *stretches* Two more parts to go. Deep breath! On we go!

So... Third part: Azucena wanders off to look for Manrico and gets captured by Count de Luna, who recognizes her as the gypsy who stole his baby brother. He imprisons her, plotting revenge. Meanwhile, Manrico and Leonora are preparing to be married, when someone comes and tells Marnico that De Luna is planning on burning Azucena at stake. Manrico rushes off to go save his mother, and the third part ends. And now, the finale. The fourth and last act opens with Leonora and one of Manrico's comrades outside de Luna's castle. Manrico has been captured, and de Luna intends to execute him as well as the gypsy. Leonora has come to see if she can reason with de Luna and save Manrico. She finds de Luna and pleads with him to no avail. "Kill me, drink my blood, trample my corpse, but save the Troubadour!" She says, but the Count will not comply. Finally, she kneels down and offers herself to the Count in exchange for Manrico's life. The Count is all too eager to accept that bargain, and makes her swear to it. While the Count arranges Manrico's release, Leonora drinks a dose of poison she had hidden in her ring, and says in sottovoce, "You will have me... but cold and dead!" Meanwhile, Manrico and Azucena are contemplating their respective demises in their prison cell. Azucena fears the stake more than anything in the world, but Manrico manages to get her to lie down and sleep, to dream of happy times. Then, Leonora comes in and attempts to convince Manrico to leave, but he will not go without her. He suspects that she has sold the love she swore was his. He curses her for her infidelity, but she keeps trying to get him out, until she faints and explains, "I chose to die yours rather than live as another's." Manrico immediately repents of his accusations, and the Count, having entered in the background, sees that Leonora has betrayed him. As Leonora breathes her last, the Count sends Manrico to the stake. Just then, Azucena wakes up, and tries to stop the Count from killing Manrico-- minutes too late. "He was your brother!" She cries, "Mother, you are avenged!" The Count, horrified, screams, "And I must live on!" and the opera ends.


Wow. That took really long. Would you have ever guessed that Manrico was the Count's long-lost brother?? [*wink*] So, some notes about the opera: the "Anvil Chorus," Azucena's aria "Stride la Vampa," Manrico's arias "Ah, si, Ben Mio" and "Di Quella Pira" and the Count's aria "Il Balen del Suo Sorriso" are all very famous. The duet between the Count and Leonora in the fourth act is pretty standard amongst singers specializing in Verdi, too. But I think these songs are all better when you hear them in context. Verdi once said that in order for a production of "Il Trovatore" to be successful, "All you need are the four greatest singers in the world."  So, what recording do I have to offer you today?




 Here it is, folks! The RCA Victor 1970 recording of "Il Trovatore" starring Placido Domingo in the title role, Leontyne Price as Leonora, Fiorenza Cossotto as Azucena, and Sherrill Milnes as the Count de Luna. Zubin Mehta conducts the New Philharmonia Orchestra and John McCarthy directs the Ambrosian Opera Chorus. 

This collection of recordings, as far as I have experienced, is fabulous. Great casts, excellent sound quality, and very reasonably priced. Heck, the recording of "I, Pagliacci" from this series only costs $8 new on Amazon! I think this one was $11 or maybe $15. Either way, the RCA Victor Opera Treasury collection is great, so if you find other operas from it, they'll probably be really good purchases. Let's talk about the cast...


As I have said, I love Placido Domingo. He is not only a great singer but a marvelous actor. His performance here is so incredible-- it's mostly what made me fall in love with this recording (I rented it from a library before I owned it). 


Fiorenza Cossotto is absolutely amazing as Azucena. Her voice is dark and mysterious, with a great vibrato, good consistency, and good heavens, what control! She sounds haunting without sounding cold. She's a great singer, and she is perfect for this role.


I have always had a fondness for Sherrill Milnes. A lot of people say he sang incorrectly for a long time (which is true-- I've heard it in videos on Youtube), but in all the studio recordings I have of him, he sounds great. He is as versatile and as great at acting as Domingo. He's very reliable as baritones go, and he does a great job as the Count.


Hm... Leontyne Price... I like her voice, and she has a great range, etc. etc. etc., but I don't think she's the greatest Leonora. I feel like Price's voice is a little bit dark for the role, or maybe her voice was just stressed during the recording session. Her high notes sound stressed and a bit stretched out to me, but no weaker than her lower-register bits, which is a good thing. Price's voice is stable, powerful, and flexible. She's not half bad as Leonora, but I would definitely recommend that you explore Youtube, etc., and listen to other Leonoras first. Sandra Radvanovsky is a good one, for example. But, this recording is still fantastic, and I highly recommend it! The chorus is wonderful, the conducting is wonderful, and all around, it's just a beautiful recording of "Il Trovatore."


With that, I bid you farewell until next week.


Your friend and fellow opera-lover,


~R.M.








Sunday, January 30, 2011

Bloody Lucia

Hello! Now that I know I have a reader, I must make an effort to post regularly. Finding someone that shares your interests is so motivating!

This week, I'd like to write about one of my very favorite operas, "Lucia di Lammermoor" by Gaetano Donizetti. Written in 1836 and set when Mary Queen of Scots took the throne in 1542 , this dramatic opera tells the tale of Lucia, a young Scottish woman whose family is in serious political trouble. The only thing that can save Lucia's family is for her to marry a nobleman named Arturo. However, there is a problem: Lucia is in love with her brother Enrico's sworn enemy, Edgardo of Ravenswood. In secret, Lucia and Edgardo exchange rings and vows before he leaves for France. Meanwhile, Lucia's brother Enrico has already found out about her secret romance and made a plan to get her to marry Arturo anyway. He intercepts all letters from Lucia to Edgardo and back, and he gives Lucia a forged letter that says Edgardo has been unfaithful. Brokenhearted, Lucia finally agrees (under heavy duress) to marry Arturo for the sake of her brother. At the wedding, Edgardo arrives to claim Lucia as his bride, only to find that she has already signed a wedding contract. He throws her ring at her, curses her, and leaves. Enrico later goes to Edgardo's ruined castle to challenge his foe to a duel the next morning, and Edgardo accepts. Back at the wedding party, a terrible tragedy has occurred: Lucia has gone completely insane and murdered her bridegroom. She comes out of the bedchamber covered in blood, raving about Edgardo, an evil spirit trying to separate them, their wedding ceremony, and her soon-coming death. Enrico comes back and sees the results of his trickery: his sister is insane and dying, his political alliance is most literally torn asunder, and everything is going to pot. The next morning, Edgardo awaits Enrico for the duel and hears mourners passing by. Inquiring for whom they mourn, he learns that Lucia is dying, but before he can go see her one last time, the death bell tolls-- he is too late. Overcome with grief and regret, he stabs himself and the opera ends.

There are several interesting notes about "Lucia di Lammermoor" I'd like to mention. First, it is partially based on a true story. There was in fact a bride (I think in Scotland) who tried to kill her husband on their wedding night. Apparently, in real life, the husband survived and died twelve years later (I can't imagine what that marriage was like!). But Sir Walter Scott wrote a novel (with some liberties taken as to the facts of the case) about the event, and Donizetti and his librettist took further liberties when crafting the opera's plot. Second, the scene in which Lucia comes raving and covered in blood is a very famous in the opera world, often referred to as "The Mad Scene." Mind, other operas have mad scenes, but this one is special. Anyone who mentions "The Mad Scene" is referring to the one from this opera. In the film "The Fifth Element," the blue alien diva Plavalaguna begins her "Diva Dance" with the beginning aria and recitative of the Mad scene, "Il Dolce Suono." 

The Diva Dance from The Fifth element-- Youtube 

When Donizetti first wrote the opera, he wanted the part we hear as a flute in the Mad Scene played by a glass harmonica. However, when the opera was written, the glass harmonica was still a relatively new invention, and considered too eccentric for audiences to appreciate. So, Donizetti wrote the part for a flute. Now that you know about the opera itself, let's write a review!

    
This was the first recording of "Lucia di Lammermoor" I ever heard. My older sister kindly gave it to me for my birthday because I was so curious about the origin of the aria "Il Dolce Suono." 

Joan Sutherland stars as the vulnerable and Ophelia-like Lucia. Sutherland became incredibly famous for her rendition of Lucia in the late 1950's, when she was in her late twenties and early thirties. This recording was made in 1972, when she was forty-four years old. Now, I'm a bit picky about my coloraturas-- I love recordings of Sutherland from the '50's and '60's. They're fabulous. But what she did to her old coloratura roles in the seventies and eighties? I can't bear it. Most recordings you'll find in stores of Joan Sutherland are from the seventies-eighties period, when (in my humble opinion) her voice was past being suited to that range. Take this Lucia for instance: Her voice sounds throaty and deep, she rushes through high notes as much as possible, and she's not acting at all! She butchered the role! She is physically capable of singing the high notes, but it's not beautiful any more. It's not graceful or moving or poignant. It just makes you think of that old "Brünnhilde" image of opera singers and the typical "Opera singers are really terrible" idea. Neither of those are what opera is about! Opera is about beauty, humanity, and emotion! 


...Forgive the rant, I'll continue the review.

Everyone else in this recording is amazing. Luciano Pavarotti costars as Edgardo and gives a brilliant performance, Sherrill Milnes soars as the vindictive and plotting Enrico, and Nicolai Ghiaurov plays the role of Raimondo, a priest who tries to console and guide Lucia through her unhappy lot. This recording made me a Ghiaurov fan. I will never get over how beautiful his voice is in this role. When he sings "Ah! Cedi, cedi" it's to die for. The chorus is wonderful, the conducting is wonderful, and you almost can't ask for a better recording. EXCEPT FOR SUTHERLAND!

I must warn you, fellow opera-lovers: Do not let Joan Sutherland be your first experience of any role in opera. Don't let her be your first Lucia, don't let her be your first Violetta or Gilda, don't let her be your first anything. And the same goes for Maria Callas, unless you're talking "Carmen." So what's the solution? I happen to have an idea:





I have actually listened to clips of this recording on Amazon, and from what I can hear, it's really good! Beverly Sills is great as Lucia (from what I heard in the 30-second clips), and the rest of the cast is not half bad. And another really cool thing: the Mad Scene is done with a glass harmonica, just as Donizetti intended. When you hear that sucker, you know why he wanted it that way. It sounds so much more rich and haunting and vivid. It's really amazing. By the way, it is in fact available for purchase as downloadable MP3s or a physical CD set on Amazon.

There is only one other recording of "Lucia" I know of that has the glass harmonica, and it's only on video, as far as I understand. 


A couple of years ago, the Metropolitan Opera in New York did a production of "Lucia" for their simulcast series, and I attended it. It was splendid. It was set in Victorian Scotland instead of Renaissance Scotland, and it had Anna Netrebko as Lucia, Piotr Beczala as Edgrado, Mariusz Kwiecien as Enrico, and Ildar Abdrazakov as Raimondo. Amazon carries the DVD if you're interested in a video-- it's a fascinating and amazing production, and I highly recommend it. 

 So, with all this new information, I hope you find the perfect "Lucia di Lammermoor," and I hope you enjoy the opera when you give it a try. Until next time,


Your friend and fellow opera-lover,


~Ruth