Opera Chic

Step into the Ice Princess' Thunderdome

Welcome to another edition of Thunderdome -- with Roberto Alagna's mammaries and Lise Lindstrom's ~living legend, you could look but don't touch, cause she's cold as fire, hot as ice~ for les Chorégies d'Orange festival's Turandot.

Tonight's the last performance of the Michel Plasson-conducted, Charles Roubaud-directed Puccini fairytale but the relay will be available to watch online after the performance tonight.

Everyone's a Winner at the Wiener: Garanca in La Clemenza

Here's Elina Garanca as Sesto in the upcoming Jürgen Flimm production of Mozart's La Clemenza that opens at the Wiener Staatsoper on May 17. Louis Langrée conducts Michael Schade as Tito, Juliane Banse as Vitellia and Chen Reiss as Servilia. We'd swap tickets of Clemenza's Roman bonfires (when you've seen Graham Vick's slick-haired Tito-as-Mussolini transported to Facist Italy, you're tapped out) for the bone-chilling biblical teen lust of Salome with Lise Lindstrom killing it (with Dame Gwynnie Jones) in Boleslaw Barlog's production, ending on May 18.

Opera Chic & Grazia.it: Two Post in One

For this week's Stasera Esco column on Grazia.it, Opera Chic looks ahead to Italy's early fall classical music festivals and picks three of her favorites for "Aspettando l'autunno: Tre Imperdibili Festival di Musica Classica".

Don't worry -- next week we'll jump right back to the present!

But now we need to hop back into the DeLorean and go back in time since we forgot to mention last week's piece for Stasera Esco, "Shiseido Cura la Bellezza dell'opera". We grilled Japanese beauty giant Shiseido on their evolving partnership with Teatro alla Scala as the first beauty company in the theater's history to have the honor.

You can see more of the cool photos (and the piece) here! Tomorrow we'll drop in the English translations behind the cut, but in the meantime you can check out the pieces (in Italian) on Grazia.it. 

Photos credit Shiseido, Luca Chiaudano and Photomovie.

La Scala's New Turandot Gets Steamrolled

Puccini's last opera, posthumously completed after the composer passed away at 66, merits a production that matches the instinctive viscera of the narrative, dynamic singers who can transform through the libretto's big transitions, and a prepared conductor to flesh-out and develop all the modernity found in the composer's dynamic score.

The new production of Turandot for Teatro alla Scala by Giorgio Barberio Corsetti offered little in the way of Puccini lust, unable to compliment the conductor's dramatic tale of the man-eating ice princess who haunts Giuseppe Adami's and Renato Simoni's libretto.

Under Puccini's pen, Turandot was riddled (haaaaaa!) with developmental issues from the conception, later finished by the composer's former student Franco Alfano, which finally had its premiere on April 25, 1926 at La Scala, conducted by Arturo Toscanini. The Luccan conductor had passed away two years prior from complications of throat surgery (an infection brought on by a fish bone eaten two years earlier, although rumor is that he had throat cancer) on 29 November 1924, his body temporarily mourned in Milan. At the memorial, Toscanini, in reverence to his colleague, conducted the La Scala orchestra in the Requiem from Puccini's second opera, Edgar.

Although Valery Gergiev conducted the first round of replications at La Scala, Milanese conductor Daniele Callegari was brought in for the later shows, and his interpretation of Puccini's dynamic composition was monochromatic and uneven. We're calling him the Eliot Spitzer of opera -- for steamrolling through all of Puccini's good graces ("I'm a f**king steamroller"!)

Puccini's Turandot burns with its cinematic, crisply-sweeping cadenze. Puccini was highly regarded for his  accessibility to contemporary music (contemporary to his time, obvs) and Turandot is a testament to that, crackling with wit, exoticism, and wispy melodies. But Callegari subdued all of Puccini's sparkle and playful idiosyncrasies. At its worst moments, it listed and wobbled like a gutter-bound bowling ball, relying on the brass and percussion to add an ersatz significance. At its best moments, Callegari conducted with a sweetness that pushed the notes delicately ahead, undoubtedly skilled at what he was doing, although inappropriate for Puccini's expressiveness. (Although it worked well enough for nostalgic moments like Act II's Ping/Pang/Pong "Ho una casa nell'Honan" and Act I's chorus proposition "Perche tarda la luna?")

Giorgio Barberio Corsetti's staging downplayed the dramatic thrust of the gripping fable, an underdeveloped testament to Puccini's font -- the adaptation of Carlo Gozzi's 1762 commedia dell'arte, Turandot. It was robbed of the beautiful capitulation of Turandot's heart, stripped of dramatic entrances and paces -- only the Princess's robes distinguished her from plebs plebis.

Despite the challenges of the undercooked staging, California soprano Lise Lindstrom (who shared the role with Maria Guleghina) rallied with great authority. With her declarative aria "In questa reggia", she blew the saddle off the horse (and our Wolford stockings off our legs) with her vibrantly-ringing voice and toe-curling power. She brought a visceral, soul-bearing pathos to the character -- frankly, we could imagine her clawing into prospective suitors' chests like Mola Ram, the Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom villain, ripping-out their still-beating hearts. KALI MA! KALI MA! Lindstrom had that whole Birgit Nilsson dramatic soprano thing going on with a magnetic stage presence, although we'd already seen her sparkle as Turandot in NYC for her Metropolitan Opera debut 2.5 years ago, so we knew what we were in for.

Subdued costumes and sets by Giorgio Barberio Corsetti and Cristian Taraborrelli turned the libretto's Peking palace into a rural, dusty province instead of the regal Chinese dynasty empire, the imperial city postured like a row of beachfront bathhouses. Big ups at least for keeping it dignified and somewhat elegant without clumsy Asian stereotypes.

Video projections -- atmospheric moon and clouds -- were thankfully never cheesy, although they were at times distracting. Choreographer Ricky Sim was a delight, evoking Puccini's heaven-bound score with light-as-air tumblers. Act I began with an acrobat descending from silks in the sky in a fluid, ethereal vision. Ping, Pang, and Pong each had a doppelgänger tumbler who acted out in spirited, elastic acrobatics.

Calaf was American tenor Stuart Neill (splitting the role with Marco Berti) in a brown Obi-Wan Kenobi robe, and his Nessun Dorma garnered a spontaneous round of applause. Liù was Ekaterina Scherbachenko (alternating with Maija Kovalevska) who brought a sweet portrayal of Calaf's loyal slave. Marco Spotti sang an engaging Timur. The Masks -- Ping, Pang, and Pong -- sung by Angelo Veccia, Luca Casalin, and Carlo Bosi respectively -- meshed into an easy camaraderie, a spirited performance by the trio at the opening of Act II. La Scala's excellent chorus, as always, under the loving direction of chorus master Bruno Casoni, was a study in preparedness and richness.

After the convergence of a steamrolled Turandot, it served as a pithy reminder that despite good casting, opera's strength at times can be reduced to the sum of its parts.

Opera Chic and Grazia Magazine

Italy's leading fashion and beauty weekly magazine, Grazia, just relaunched their website with a sleek, clued-up streamlining of delicious content.

Opera Chic was invited to join Grazia and write the Night Out culture/entertainment column, "Stasera Esco" -- where you can read all about the best ballet, opera, and symphony events in Italy and elsewhere.

Her first piece is on American soprano Lise Lindstrom who is currently singing Turandot at La Scala (photo above, taken by OC).

The pieces, for now, are only in Italian language -- so what better reason to finally learn Italian?

(UPDATE: Opera Chic's English translation added, under the cut!)

Lise Lindstrom Makes her La Scala Debut and Breaks Turandot's Mold

(Photo by John Fitzgerald)

The current heavyweight of Puccini's Turandot is California native Lise Lindstrom, already 30 different productions of the opera under her belt, who made her triumphant Teatro alla Scala debut last week singing the ice princess in a new production.

She spoke to Milan's Corriere della Sera about what it means to sing Puccini's meaty, vocally-juicy character, across so many life-changing stages and experiences.

OC's quick translation from Italian below!

An enigmatic princess who interrogates her prospective suitors with three riddles and he who gets it wrong dies (by decapitation). She's one of the most disturbing women in theatrical history (in opera and other arts) and reflects a theory most commonly held in regards to Turandot.

But the the heroine the Puccini opera, which debuted in 1926 at Milan's Teatro alla Scala in the unfinished form (the composer had already died before he was able to write the finale) and according to one of the opera world's current and  best interpreters of the opera, she wasn't cruel and unsympathetic like most people think.

However, it's the opposite. Although according to Lise Lindstrom, the American soprano with a certifiable Puccini-esque destiny (she's a true "Fanciulla del West", born in Sonora, California, the heart of the 19th century gold rush epoch, and both of her grandmothers were called Minnie just like the main character in Puccini's Western-themed opera)

Her vision of Turandot goes against the stereotypes of Puccini's ice princess, man-eater, ball-busting woman.

Lindstrom, much loved by the American, German, and Dutch critics, celebrated her La Scala debut last night in a role that's made her famous (she's alternating in this La Scala production with Maria Guleghina since Turnadot asks for a vocal strength even greater than that of normal roles) and she's still "incredibly emotional".

You know you want to read the rest!! Click click click!

Hope, Blood and the Princess: Puccini's Turandot at the Metropolitan Opera

(photo credit Marty Sohl)

How do you take a (literally) creaky, tarnished, 22-year-old, scene-stealing Zeffirelli production of Turandot and make it about the main character again? Bring in a princess that literally shakes the dust from the rafters, vibrates the windows, and cracks the foundation. Tuesday night's Turandot at the Metropolitan Opera was a stunner, the riveting voice of a Princess unhinged via Lise Lindstrom's powerfully precise soprano, which rose and blossomed over conductor Andris Nelsons's interpretation (or lack thereof) Puccini's last opera.

Based on Carlo Gozzi's 1762 play Turandotte about the daughter of the Chinese Emperor, Puccini's opera had its world premiere two years after the Italian maestro died in 1924, the opera unfinished. Franco Alfano picked up the ink where Puccini left off, scribbling the final duet and scene, notoriously revised by Toscanini. Turandot calls for a cruel and unwavering princess, who will only marry a royal suitor provided that he can answer three riddles set forth. If the suitors cannot answer correctly, the princess calls for beheading which will avenge her ancestors. Prince Calaf, despite the fact taht 26 potential lovers have suffered gory deaths is struck by Turandot's beauty (although dissuaded by Ping/Pang/Pong) and rises to the challenge. He even one-ups her, proposing a riddle to which the answer is, of course, Amore.

All the glitz and epic glamor of Frengo's over-the-top, 1987 Asian panorama remains, although the well-loved, claustrophobic sets sagged and groaned with the weight of its teeming extras. And as if the gold sets and glittering costumes weren't enough, sparkling confetti rained down at various intervals, a Golden Age of Hollywood epic love-letter at times bordering on ridiculous -- although the audience didn't care, breaking-out into spontaneous applause frequently at Frengo's incantations.

(credit: Beatriz Schiller)

The Turandot for the evening was California native, Lise Lindstrom -- who two weeks ago bravely stepped up to the plate and hit a grand slam despite 1.5 hours notice to cover Russian soprano Maria Guleghina's bronchial lungs during the October 28 premiere. Not that the soprano had anything to sweat, having already locked-down the same role recently at the Deutsche Oper, Cleveland Opera, Savonlinna and La Coruña.

Ms. Lindstrom exited her Metropolitan Opera debut to rave reviews, while her endearing excitement at the final curtain call melted the hearts of even the most jaded journalists. Lindstrom was the ice that sets you on fire! Confident and effortless, her huge voice rang through the cavernous MET, her succinct Italian pronunciation soaring easily over the orchestra. The tall, willowy soprano looked every inch the part, gracefully weaving her way across Frengo's obstacle courses in slippers. Lise captured the perfect balance of vulnerability and ruthless strength with a voice that brought Puccini-induced rapture at the caress of each soprano-killing note.

The rest of the cast performed well, considering that they had already put much stock in this past Saturday, November 7 matinée which was transmitted worldwide for The Met's Live in HD series (this broadcast-heavy opera will have a total of 6 live broadcasts before it finishes its Fall run on November 21 and then revives itself for the entire month of January). Sicilian tenor Marcello Giordani as Calàf gave a (surprise, surprise) uneven performance, where his pitch fluctuated at whim from sharp to flat, perplexedly wild. When he was on point, he showed-off a lovely color with lots of meaty interpretation. Nessun Dorma was thoughtful and thorough. Russian soprano Marina Poplavskaya's Liù was tender and delicate, a role which she sang with much beauty and emotion. The contrast between Poplavskaya's Liù and Lindstrom's Turandot was striking, a wonderful antithesis shared between the two singers. Bass Samuel Ramey's Timur was dignified and stern with a lingering introspection that worked to his advantage.

Latvian conductor Andris Nelsons made his Metropolitan Opera debut, a former trumpeter for the Latvian National Opera Orchestra. An oddly nasal, impersonal conducting gave way to syrupy, lethargic introspect when the score called for depth. We prefer Karajan's punctuated, stern version. The interaction between the orchestra and the chorus was a hot mess, many times gargling over Puccini's glowing, ethereal glissandi.

But with this distractingly gold-plated, bejeweled spectacle of dizzying Zeffirelli proportions, no one's really listening to the music, are they?

Bow Down to La Principessa: Lise Lindstrom For the Save

 

Earlier tonight, the Metropolitan Opera opened the 1987 Franco Zeffirelli revival of Puccini’s Turandot. Russian soprano Maria Guleghina was scheduled to sing in the title role but pulled-out last minute, leaving cover and Turandot second cast Lise Lindstrom to (quickly) step it up, roughly two weeks ahead of her scheduled Metropolitan Opera debut.

A tremendous auguri & complimenti to Ms. Lindstrom, who made her Metropolitan opera debut tonight, sharing the stage with Marcello Giordani's Calàf. We have no doubt she cold killed it, as she slayed the same role over the summer at Savonlinna and A Coruña -- and she'll go onto sing it next year at De Nederlandse Opera, Deutsche Oper Berlin, and San Diego Opera.