Opera Chic

Again With Placido Domingo as Cyrano @ La Scala: Bigger, Better, Nasalier. The Full Review

(Above: Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac in the Francesca Zambello production, with Sondra Radvanovsky as Roxane & Placido Domingo as Cyrano. All shots below courtesy of Ken Howard. Source. La Scala Disclaimer: All photos are not from the La Scala production, since La Scala's lawyers forbade us to use their promotional stuff among other things -- rather these are shots from 2005 at The Metropolitan Opera).

After the initial Tuesday night recap of Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac we saw opening night at La Scala, here we are less than 48 hours l8r and the impressions haven't changed much, although we've changed outfits a few times. In black Prada heels, more Wolford black leggings (just like mah gurl Linds-say) a white Comme des Garçons long t-shirt, an oversized Jil Sander grey cashmere cardigan, and Aquascutum grey trench, La Scala wasn't quite as scalding as when they welcomed our poor JDF one night prior, and OC was thankfully not sweating through her cashmere.   

(Above: Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac in the Francesca Zambello production. Act I. Photo credit: Ken Howard. Source.)

With the libretto written in French by Henri Cain, inspired from the play by Edmond Rostand based on the real life tales of Cyrano, Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac is an expressive, at times jarringly sad masterpiece, which we can all thank Maestro Domingo for exhuming from obscurity, as it fell out of popular stage space quickly after its premiere in 1936. Throughout its paltry performance history, the libretto has been in constant flux between Italian and French translations, although we prefer this suitably in French.

First performed in pre-WWII Europe (o say what?), and a close contemporary to Berg's Wozzeck, and Schoenberg's Moses und Aron, Cyrano experiments with some gorgeous sounds of theater. This is musical theater's infancy, and Alfano just gets it right. The plot is amazingly simple to follow, and the story delivers comic relief without eliciting crude guffaws. The music is full of beauty, sweeping passages, and the purity of truth and love bubbles on the surface of every note. The colors are very, well, French, totally romantic, but never sappy or clumsy.

(Above: Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac in the Francesca Zambello production. Act I. Photo credit: Ken Howard. Source.)

Every single musical phrase had been practiced and studied, and carefully shaped. The music dutifully, yet gorgeously, pushes all the action: At the first encounter between Cyrano and Roxane, the strings literally climax to a shattering, vibrating crescendo, and then ripple away as a breaking wave, and you can truly imagine Cyrano's heart literally engulfed in Roxane's devastating beauty. Thanks to Maestro Patrick Fournillier, who aimed to fill the house with an enormous, but never overwhelming sound coaxed from the Scala Orchestra, and even elicited a round of Bravo from the super-discerning gallerie when he came back out after the intermission to take the stand. 

The vocal lines that Sondra Radvanovsky as Roxane sang were fierce and powerful, and she not only brought it but brang it. Ms. Radvanovsky has not the most gorgeous voice, but properly implemented it throughout every single scene, and pushed along the narrative line when the libretto failed in parts. She's had the good fortune to successfully weather a three year run of the same production, already singing the role @ The Metropolitan Opera in both 2005 & 2006, and at the Royal Opera House in 2006, all opposite Domingo. She choose her acting well, and used her limbs very practiced, posed, and careful. She was passionate and reserved at the same time.

(Above: Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac in the Francesca Zambello production. Act II. Photo credit: Ken Howard. Source.)

Francesca Zambello's elegant and complex direction paid careful attention every single entity on stage. Every extra from the bakers to the soldiers had been given specific direction, and carried out with great acting their sub-minor roles. The effect was very Les Mis, where the chorus was pushed into a prominent thrust of the action, and the Scala chorus and extras delivered fabulously, void of hamminess or eye-rolling mockery. Appealing romantic costumes were generalized and idealized like Disney's Robin Hood with a touch of elegance.

(Above: Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac in the Francesca Zambello production. Act III. Photo credit: Ken Howard. Source.)

The other stars of the night, Pietro Spagnoli as De Guiche, Simone Alberghini as Carbon, and German Villar as Christian were all well enough supporting singers, but the attention was all on Domingo and Radvanovsky.

As for Placido The Minger, OC thinks it's lame to speak about his waning voice, because it's glaring, a given, that a man approaching his 70s couldn't retain his former glory -- although peeking through you still get those moments of beauty and flight that Domingo once mastered (like in Act I's "Ballade du duel" or Act II's "Ce sont les cadets de Gascogne". A contemporary of Bruson and Nucci, Domingo has refused to slow down, and still can support the role of a much younger tenor, believably sprite and graceful, albeit a bit tired. Lucky for him, the role is not terribly physical nor does it demand lots of singing aside from the last stirring act.

(Above: Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac in the Francesca Zambello production. Act III. Photo credit: Ken Howard. Source.)

We left the theater knowing that Placido Domingo will soon hang up his performaning hat, so to still catch him on stage is something really quite spectacular. HE WAS THE BEST THEN HE IS THE BEST NOW NO ONE CAN TOUCH THAT $H1T BY0TCH$

Now go enjoy yourselves some nice b00tleggian clips that our YouTube opera brethren have uploaded of the very same Franco Alfano's Cyrano de Bergerac Domingo/Zambello/Radvanovsky production from MET 2005/2006 and ROH 2006.

Act I: SWASHBUCKLING DOMINGO!

Act II: DOMINGO THE K0çK-BLOCKER!

Act III: DOMINGO -- HE DAED!

Maria Stuarda La Prima @ La Scala: DOWNGRADE!

First off, tonight's la prima of Gaetano Donizetti's Maria Stuarda (in a new production by Pier Luigi Pizzi) at La Scala boasted a substitution of Talbot. Ailing bass (or, bailing a$$ loalz) Carlo Cigni was replaced tonight by Simone Alberghini, who formerly starred on the Opera Chic blog as Anna Netrebko's ex-fiancé, after they called it quits in May 2007, victims of the seven-year itch. Alberghini was there IN SHOCKING GREEN!!!

OC ran down to La Scala earlier tonight in the Milan rain (that hasn't let-up since last Thursday) super casual and cozy in a pair of knee-high black Costume National heeled boots, black leggings bought @ Boule de Neige, a vintage YSL black silk blouse, a Miu-Miu dark gray cashmere cardigan (super huge and long...from the men's line), and an Isabella Tonchi black wool overcoat (black Chloé Paddington bag, Loro Piana dark grey cashmere scarf, and a Paul Smith umbrella). Too bad the new Louboutins bought in saldi last week will have to wait until nicer weather... :(

On with the show: The curtain rose on the scene of the Westminster court, which was materialized by Pier Luigi Pizzi as a large black platform in the middle of the stage, elevated by stairs on all four sides. Kinda like the Kaaba in Mecca. Mecha lecca hi. All around the stage walls had been erected scaffolding (as the scenery), which comprised of a ground level and a second level above the stage, where ramps ran, which singers were able to use as egress. They were backlit by screens that projected either white or orange light. YOUR CHOICE! 1 OR 2! The minimal staging was frankly, quite boring and unimaginative.

A dozen male guards (Cavalieri) circled about holding flaming torches. Pier Luigi Pizzi, who was responsible for direction, scenery, and costumes, managed to blow the entire trifecta all over the stage. OC's biggest beef with the production was encountering Pizzi's incongruity between the costuming of women and men. On stage, if you had balls, you were put into a tight pair of black leather pants. If you had breasts, you were swaddled-up in reams of cloth, not unlike Amish school marms. Women were totally desexualized in this production, de-divaized, de-fierceized, and totally fe-masculated…while the men were all totally empowered. wtf? So yeah, we had a dozen alternate males in the background in thigh-high black leather boots, which were tucked into tight, black leather pants, with tight, black leather jackets -- all topped with jaunty black leather berets. ugh. Their costumes were totally non sequitur within the whole production, but if that's what gets Pier Luigi Pizzi hot, so be it.

Act I gave us a view of the chorus and Dame d'onore, who were dressed sumptuously in gorgeous magentas, browns, and subdued gold period dresses, full length skirts and matching bodices, without a hint of cleavage, neck, or any flesh-colored things showing. Out came Elisabetta, Anna Caterina Antonacci, wrapped in layers and layers of white cloth.

Pizzi didn't even give the women's costumes any Elizabethan flair, and instead of exaggerating the hips, waists, or shoulders, the fabric was boringly draped over the hips in a, well, non-form form. These divas on stage were costumed to be shockingly less fierce than their larger-than-life references, which is what pissed me off. Pizzi stole their thunder. thare were no divas were n e whare 2 be found. Totally lame. No Sills-like awesomeness. The two queens were given careless wraps of fabric. I know this was the 16th century, and modesty was kinda what the kewl kids did, but we want diva power! Not some mousy queens dragging lead around the stage. Elisabetta was at least donning a Seamonkey white crown and collar, although she was slapped with a wash of white Kabuki foundation. In Engerland.

Act I, and the problems began immediately with Antonino Fogliani and Scala orchestra in an uncooperative brawl. Fogliani and the orchestra tampered Anna Caterina Antonacci with her Scene II appearance, and rudely barged over her voice, both in tempi and volume. There were loads of unsynchronized measures between the singers and the orchestra, and the orchestra was just overall too loud. It wasn't a matter of crescendi, but the volume was just too strong-armed and inelegant for this bel canto masterpiece. To be fair, I saw numerous times Fogliani shushing the orchestra, hand raised to his lips, but they weren't having it, so at the end of the night, both parties are guilty.

Scene III introduced Roberto, Earl of Leicester in thine tightie leathery, blacke pantaloonies, sung by tenor Francesco Meli who was off to a pretty rough start. His upper notes were fraught with straining. Scene IV, during "Se fida tanto colei mi amò", he pushed it way out, and the results were not pleasant. Thankfully, he did like a 180 degree switch for Act II, and gave much more. Yay for intermissions. Contrasting with the petite frame of Meli was Simone Alberghini, singing Talbot. Did I mention he was outfitted in tight black leather pants? He sang well and rounded-out the entire lineup, and his "Questa imago, questo foglio" with Meli was worth mentioning.

Enter Mariella Devia and Fotheringay Park, where the new scenery appeared from under stage, raised on a mechanical level. This act brought the one memorable effect of the entire performance: a thick, leafy grove of trees slowly materialized…the foliage a nice break from the stagnant steel cages in the prior acts. Devia appeared as frumpy as the other women on stage, in dark grey swaths of cloth. However, her dress and outer dress were so large and convoluted -- with a large white collar obscuring her breasts and neck -- that her head just looked like a little peanut. Pizzi wanted to put these queens out to pasture and rule the stage himself. Neigh, I say. Neigh, neigh, neigh. 

But nothing mattered to the loggioni, who were out in huge numbers filling the loggione, and lauded Devia with countless brava at every single aria she caressed. Not that she didn’t deserve any of it…we had fallen in love with la Devia ages ago, and caught her live last year at her La Scala recital (which we reviewed here). Devia had perfect control over her sweet, flawless coloratura, and left the audience breathless. Her first aria, "O nube!" made the loggione go insane. Let's face it...the last two gallerie were there just for Devia, and they made it clear they were there to support her.

BREAK TIME! As Fogliani made his way back to the podium after the first and only intermission, he was booed by the loggioni, which echoed throughout the auditorium over the applause. They shot hate lazers from their glowing, cat-like eyes all over his back! The booing seemed to have shaken the orchestra into suitable shape, and Act II was a bit more put together than Act I, with gentler control over the orchestra. Act II also showed a modicum of OMG IS THAT A WOMAN'S FLESH I SEE?!! Elisabetta came out with a stellar "Alla tua voce", although dressed in a tapestry. I’m not kidding. She had a giant orange tapestry wrapped around her body in the form of a dress, with a toned-down the white face. Also, the tapestry dress showed omg her NECK!! I think I have the vapors. Again we had the scaffolding and cavalieri holding torches. oh noes. Roberto had left his cape backstage, and was dressed in tight black leather. This time, Meli’s "Deh! per pietà sospendi" was gorgeous, and he had gotten his groove back. He was probably scared str8 after the loggioni booing, and didn't want to get tomatoes thrown at him.

Devia then appeared again in her boring giant dark grey frock, and fondled her egregious ruby-encrusted cross that hung around her neck… à la Madonna '80s. It's official. Pizzi is so senile that his popular culture references ended in the '80s. The costumes betrayed him! Even during the Confrontation scene, one of the queens was in a boxy white jacket, rawking a total '80s silhouette. Ewwww. Live in the now! Unfortunately, the orchestra fell out a few times, especially during the Confession scene between Maria and Talbot, and during "Tolta alla Scozia", the orchestra got way too loud again.

Devia’s “Quando di luce rosea" was outstanding, and was met with tons of brava from the audience. After her duet with Talbot, the stage was flooded with light, and out came the family of Maria for one of the most chilling and wrenching "Vedeste? Vedemmo," I’ve ever heard. The women were in black gowns, covered to the gills with black transparent veils over their heads, and the men were dressed like Puritans (finally...men sans leather). The executioner, however, was in the de rigeur tight leather outfit, this time topped with a shaved head. Aside from the executioner, the scene was too beautiful. Devia came out for "Io vi rivedo alfin" in a Heinz ketchup-colored red dress, a nice change from her gray capes. When she comforted her family, I was almost in tears. "Tolta al dolore, tolta agli affanni" made me sob like a little girl who just got trampled in the annual Barney's Madison Avenue summer sale.

Then we had "Roberto! Ascolta!", addio&addio&addio, Devia layed her head down, and it was all ovah.

The audience went wild for the curtain call, and Devia and Antonacci came out alone, with Devia giving her competing queen a huge hug, and then brave poured down. The curtain then rose on the chorus, who took their well-deserved bows, with the sweet Bruno Casoni as their chorus master.

As Pier Luigi Pizzi -- who gave us such craptacular sets, derivative lighting, and a touch-of-misogyny costumes for the ladies -- received loads of booing from not only the loggione, but from lots of $$money (and normally well-behaved) orchestra patrons. Booing all around! More boos than cheers! Then as conductor Fogliani stepped-out in his ill-fitting frac, more boos erupted! Just when it was getting out of hand, the curtain thankfully fell, and OC witnessed one of the shortest opening night curtain calls yet.

I want my $$$ back, tia. You can mail my check to Opera Chic, 420 Fartcrack Ave. Apt #69, Balls Falls, F.U. 50505 Republic of Poopistan. Unless you're a Devia/Antonacci fan, have a thing for scaffolding, or a black leather fetish, I'd wait this one out.

 

(Scala last night before the show. Click for bigger.)

CYA L8R LAM3RGAT0R! Netrebko Is Hot Property!

From lovely reader Swiss-Sherlock *u srsly rule* came a superawesomeomgdang email, with a magical link, an email bomb, if you will...containing the three magic words that will set the opera world on fire FIRE F Y R E: ANNA IS SINGLE!

Anna Netrebko split from her fiancé tenor bass-baritone Simone Alberghini. Lamborghini. heh. The engagement is off, the two are calling it quits after a seven year relationship. Let's hope Anna had put ex libris in all of her books. 

As for the rest of the internets: THIS ONE IS MINE BACK OFF FOOLS!