Opera Chic

Gatti's Boccanegra: Hampson vs Furlanetto Fight to the Death

Opera Chic at this point seldom gets excited by new releases -- the really good stuff, sadly -- and this is a sad testament to the recording industry's ability to crank out the seriously cool material as they did until the 1970s or even the early 1980s -- has a tendency to come almost exclusively from captured satellite radio feeds, TiVo'ed ORF2 or MEZZO or Arté telecasts, Rapidshare in-house digicaptures, etc.

But sometimes a new CD or DVD makes us go all, yummm, this sounds tasty.   

In this case, here's the spanking (heh) new Simon Boccanegra DVD -- our Milanese maestro Daniele Gatti in his Staatsoper debut  (this was back in 2002), our sweet dear hammy ham Thomas Hampson as Boccanegra, and Ferruccio "I Got Teh Powah" Furlanetto and his mighty tonsils (all three of them, big as Mount Fuji apples) star as Jacopo. Directed by Peter Stein.

Now, Opera Chic is ready to bet her new, cruelly-horizontal-striped Jasper Conran grosgrain single-breasted coat that this DVD cannot be nearly as insanely awesome as The Definitive Boccanegra, and Hampson is lovely but is not Leo Nucci.

But then, Boccanegra's greatness (la signora Mirella Freni considers it Verdi's most moving opera) is often very generous, and new productions can seriously rock -- as witnessed by our world-travelling Sarah B who just enjoyed it at the Opéra Bastille, lucky girl.

What's On Opera Chic's iPod? The World Wants To Know

Well, maybe not the world, but the Internet does: Soho the Dog already played the "generate a random playlist on your iPod" game, and Prima la musica has played, too. Here we go:

Du feines Täubchen (Die Zauberflöte)
Ferenc Fricsay
Magic Magic Flute by the madly talented, unjustly forgotten conductor. Yay for Fricsay!

IV. Finale: Presto-Allegro assai   
Beethoven Ninth Symphony (Mahler's 1895 Re-Orchestration) [Tiboris, BRNO P.O.]   
Mahler's re-orchestration of OC's favorite leaves her baffled: genius or lame-0? OC will probably just keep listening to it until she makes up her mind, in about, say, 50 years. It's nice though.

ten crack commandments
biggie smalls
Because opera is gangsta. And the other  way around may be true, too, by0tches.

Casta Diva
Grace Bumbry
This Norma will kill your children, beat your ass up, raid your fridge and vandalize your apartment. Listen with care.

Symphony C-Dur - Allegro assai
Heinz Rögner; Berlin; Richard Wagner
Because Opera Chic's iPod is in serious need of de-nazification.

Di Provenza
Leo Nucci alla Scala Recital
Best. Italian Opera Baritone. Ev4r (No, that's Capuccilli, maestro Nucci comes in 2nd place; not bad & at least is still with us, singing his talented b00ty off)

I Always Wanted To Be A Tenenbaum
Mark Mothersbaugh
Because nerdy, neurotic, huggable and scr3w3d-up Royal Tenenbaums makes Opera Chic laugh with the nervous laughter of recognition.

2. Le nozze di Figaro: Act 3: Amanti costanti, seguaci d'onor
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Zubin Mehta, Teresa Berganza, Sena Jurinac
Nancy Kovack's hubs is really cool and Mozart's Opera Chic's fav.

Concerto No.3 in D: Largo Andante
Charles Avison/Goodman
Avison mash-up of Domenico Scarlatti goodness:

Under_Pressure_All_The_Time_HI
Q-Unit
"I don't need no Dom Perignon I don't need Cris"???!!? WTF? Fiddy's insane, Opera Chic has a strong anti-drug stance but she needs her bubbly. This is a cool mash-up: 50 Cent + Queen =  operatic Vanilla Ice but in an ironic way. Mashup by The Silence Xperiment, a totally 0utlaw outfit.

Dry Drunk Emperor
TV On The Radio
Opera Chic doesn't like this band; she actually thinks it's sucky. This song's pretty lam3, too. The libretto, on the other hand, it's pretty good.

Digesting Toscanini

Please excuse Opera Chic if she has been a bit aloof and distracted lately...but she had been preparing for a stateside visit, in order to split time between precious friends and family in New York and the verdant suburbs. So as of earlier today, I am nestled back into the brash land of SUVs, 7-11s, indoor plumbing, and Jello. (j/k about indoor plumbing)...In the sage words of Jay-Z: Guess who's bizack, y'all?

But don't worry, gentle readers...

Opera Chic keeps close to her trusted Milanese contacts, who are always ready to relay juicy stories and the latest tidbits fresh from the ensconces of the opera stage. I also promise a few Manhattan outings, as the calendar is already brimming full...

Anyway, last night, while I was preparing my vintage English luggage for my trip back to New York, I made myself a little packing party... opened a bottle of Nebbiolo Langhe, and listened to the live broadcast on Rai Radio Tre of Tuesday night's concert at La Scala to commemorate the 50th anniversary of the death of Arturo Toscanini. Maestro Barenboim conducted the La Scala orchestra in Beethoven's Symphony No. 3, the Eroica Symphony.

The Eroica is the piece of music that La Scala always employs to commemorate the greats: the second movement, the Marcia Funebre, had been played there the day of Toscanini’s funeral, the day of Gianandrea Gavazzeni’s funeral, and the day of Carlo Maria Giulini’s funeral. The great maestri who have been associated with the theatre are honored by the Marcia Funebre. (In a little known anecdote, the great and always humble Maestro de Sabata, who had been asked to conduct the orchestra the day of Toscanini’s funeral, refused on the grounds [at least that day] that nobody was deserving enough of the honor of conducting on the same podium that had been Toscanini’s. Therefore, the first violin led the orchestra instead, and the podium remained empty).

I was expecting to hear a dark, moody, very Wilhelm Furtwänglerian Eroica from Barenboim, who is one of Furtwängler’s most ardent fans and is seen as one of the great maestro heirs (Furtwängler in the early 1950s held the same title, Maestro Scaligero, that now Barenboim holds at La Scala...it’s a sort of Conductor Emeritus thing).

Instead, Barenboim chose a fascinating, burnished, solemn sound: a mournful prayer instead of the apocalyptic, disquieting Requiem-like sound that many conductors choose, especially for the Second Movement. Tempi were indeed deliberate but not extremely slow (enough, anyway, to contradict the entire Toscanini ethos of sustained, speedy tempi). The audience’s reaction (the Italian President Giorgio Napoletano was also at the event) was ecstatic: the occasion did not allow for the wild cheering that Barenboim got on December 23, 2005 with Beethoven’s Ninth at the Concerto di Natale, with soccer-stadium-like ovations at the end, but applause was sustained and enthusiastic.

There is a bit of insight to Barenboim's delivery, because in yesterday's Corriere, Barenboim was asked to give a few thoughts about Toscanini and the significance of conducting the Eroica (see column above). Aside from his Toscanini anecdotes, musings on the next season at La Scala, and thoughts on fascism, Barenboim advised everyone to look for a hidden message within his conducting during the Eroica. He highlighted that Beethoven had wanted to emphasise in the Eroica that death is much the same part of life, and everything is bundled into the same cycle, and how everything is rejoined in the flux of beauty and joy...and this was to be the maestro's inspiration.

At the end of the concerto last night, Radio Tre gave us a treat: They broadcasted a speech by Barenboim, delivered for the press at that morning's general rehearsal. It was almost a lecture on Toscanini, on the Italian spirit of his conducting as opposed to the philosophical, German style of Furtwängler. The Maestro eloquently stated,

"For Toscanini, music is; For Furtwaengler, music becomes. Being vs. becoming...it all goes back to the Greek thought".

New recordings from old times: Toscanini strikes back.

Arturo Toscanini's brief tenure with the Philadelphia Orchestra in the early 1940s is one that customarily slips from the memory, which is why a brand new Toscanini box set release is so exciting. From November 1941 to February 1942, a 75-year-old Toscanini worked closely with the "Fabulous Philadelphians", and left behind a rare cache of recordings. RCA Red Seal has recently released the "digitally remastered" sets, which include recordings of Schubert's Symphony No. 9 in C major, Debussy's "La Mer", Berlioz's "Roméo et Juliette", and Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 6, "Pathétique." Quotes Tne New York Sun, "...Every Toscanini fan will want this set. It is recommendable to Toscanini skeptics as well — because the Philadelphia recordings show the maestro at his very best."

Many have not been so keen on Toscanini's relentless conducting style throughout the years. And we all have heard the horror stories about Toscanini's treatment of his orchestras (famous anecdotes: the time he got so angry at the La Scala orchestra that he ripped off his own shirt in a fit of uncontrollable anger; the time he pointed at a soprano's ginormous decolletage screaming, "Ah, if only those were brains!") And even if Toscanini was capable of adding to the mixture an insane amount of praise ("I yell at you because you are the best orchestra in the world", he used to explain to his terrorised professori d'orchestra) nobody today would dare act like he did. Toscanini's behavior would nowadays send him to jail or to Anger Management classes (not to mention the sexual harrasment lawsuits) and the newer generations of conductors have learned the lesson: you can push the orchestra only up to a point.

Let's hear it from Maestro Riccardo Muti, who recently offered his opinion of Toscanini's patented, forceful technique. From a recent article, Muti said that the Toscanini lesson, when it comes to dealing with the orchestra is that:

"Quando dirigete, cercate di non rompere le scatole all'orchestra", che non significa lascia fare all'orchestra ma una volta che tu hai messo in moto il motore in un certo modo non devi disturbare gli esecutori su un cammino che tu stesso hai indicato".

Literally, the lesson is you should not break the orchestra's boxes, i.e., you should not break their balls. You must trace the path, start the engine, and then try not to disturb.

You can find clips of the interview, along with image galleries at Muti's content-rich website, one of Opera Chic's favorites. (Below Muti shows there is nothing he won't put his signature on!)

i am teh highlander. there can only be one. Carlo Maria Giulini Still RulZ Milan

(If you are looking for the latest-breaking Teatro alla Scala news, go here  and here for the most recent thang: Robert Carsen's production of Lenny's Candide ousted from its future billing at Teatro alla Scala.)

My dear lovely readers, how I've missed you all! I shall nev4r abandon you again!

This Christmas holiday, Opera Chic found herself among gracious company in Cortina, Italy, high on the fresh and frigid Dolomite air, wrapped in the warmest of warm M. Bardelli cashmere, and practicing her (horribly rusty) German.

I hope that everyone's holiday wishes came true and you were all treated to a lovely end-of-the-year orgy of food and gifts. My Xmas gifts were pretty :coal: because I got a wii, an xbox 360 *and* a ps3. ha ha j/k.

One of my actual, IRL, for real gifts was the Fall CD release (from BBC Legends) of Giulini's London Philharmonic performances of Hindemith, Dvorak, and Beethoven. After just one listen, it was apparent that Giulini successfully washed each performance in that dark, creamy, emo sound that only he was capable of mastering. And while I enjoy Giulini's embrace of symphony, I am more about his opera, and his recordings get heavy rotation in the Opera Chic house. Favorites? Giulini's 1961 EMI Le Nozze di Figaro with Taddei, Moffo, Schwarzkopf, and Cappuccilli; his 1955 EMI Live La Traviata with Callas and Di Stefano; and his 1982 Deutsche Grammophon Live Falstaff with Bruson, Nucci, and Ricciarelli.

Giulini's presence remains palpable throughout Milan (especially nella zona where I live, which is coincidentally where Giulini himself lived for decades), and his reputation as an enormously talented and distinguished gentleman continues. After Giulini retired, he devoted his leisure time to instructing the young musicians of the Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi, which is comprised of the student orchestra that hails from Conservatorio di Milano. He doted on them sweetly with rehearsals and master classes. His care towards nurturing the students was lauded and recognized.

One of the stories from the witnesses who were with Giulini during his later years is that during his very last rehearsal with the laVerdi Orchestra (before he passed away in the summer of 2005), he took more than twenty minutes to individually tune each players' instrument within the orchestra. Aside from watching Barenboim with his West-Eastern Divan Orchestra (I was at the September 1, 2006 concerto at La Scala, where Barenboim individually congratulated each and every player for close to fifteen minutes during the final applause), there is no other conductor that doted so lovingly and with such great patience on their orchestra.

Giulini perpetuates an honorable legacy throughout the music scene in Milan, where he has been duly sanctified; and if you have the occasion to go to Auditorium di Milano, you can find in the lobby, both his first violin (it's so tiny!), along with one of his treasured batons that he donated (and then came back to the foundation via auction) to the Auditorium. Here's an image of his baton from the lobby, which I took almost one year ago, while I was in attendance of the Capodanno concerto at Auditorium on Largo Gustav Mahler for the Blomstedt Beethoven's Ninth.

Giulini wrote: Ho sempre avuto un legame affettivo e scaramantico con le mie bacchette. Ne ho possedute poche, ma le ho custodite con grande cura ed attenzione. Questa è una di esse.

Ne faccio dono all’Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi con l’augurio di continuare l’importante lavoro di divulgazione musicale in questa Città e nel mondo.

C M Giulini, Marzo 2004

Translation: I have always had a link of love/affection towards my batons, as well as attributing to them the power of lucky charms. I have only had a small amount [of batons], but I have kept them each with great care and attention. This is one of those.

I give it to the Orchestra Sinfonica di Milano Giuseppe Verdi with the wish that they continue the important work of spreading music in both this city and in the world.

C M Giulini, Marzo 2004

How kewl is that? Here is a picture of his violin, but the quality is pretty shady. But nevermind that...I will be returning to Auditorium this upcoming Capodanno concerto to hear Maestro Slatkin conduct Beethoven's Ninth, and will snap a better picture...

Anyway, before I left Milan for the holiday, I made a trek down to the Teatro alla Scala bookstore, and witnessed that lo spirito musicale of Giulini still thrives.

The La Scala bookstore contains two large albums, filled with 8x10 glossy press-shots of the musical geniuses that have graced the La Scala stage, that one can buy and frame. Between the portfolios, filled with popular artists, conductors, and ballet dancers, there remained only one photograph that had been sold out. That glossy was the capture of Maestro Carlo Maria Giulini. FINITA!

Another marvelous trinket this holiday season was a gift subscription to Classica satellite channel so during this long, grey, cold winter, I can watch awesome things on the plasma. Already, the channel is teh r0x0r.

But they've been looping Nikolaus Harnoncourt's conducting of Nozze di Figaro from earlier this year at the Salzburg Festival, and aside from Ildebrando D’Arcangelo and Anna Netrebko, it's an embarrassing disaster. Tommasini panned it in a NY Times review, as did every music critic in Italy when it ran. And I can bear witness that it really does suck.

Before I embarked on the journey to the heart of the Dolomites, I caught the ending of a HD Renée Fleming holiday special, and she's all decked-out in festive gear. She was singing among a nativity scene, but I was too lazy to check the credits. Here's a screenshot:

Okay, luckily during my holiday, Alagna didn't show up in Milan playing his tiny little violin that weeps canzonette about his low blood pressure and conspiracy theories. I returned to Milan full of frico, crespelle, and stinky truffles. And a new pair of puma kicks to herald a newly-invoked (and much needed) schedule of exercise.

Furtwängler's Last and Most Favorite Beethoven’s Ninth

I’m going to pimp one of the best recordings of Wilhelm Furtwängler’s conducting of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony ev4r.

Get ready for it...it's...it's...it's a hard-to-find Furtwängler recording of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony ("Choral", Opus 125), played by the Philharmonia Orchestra, and taped live during the Lucerne Festival on August 22, 1954, only available from Tahra Records, with Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, soprano; Elsa Cavelti, contralto; Ernst Häfliger, tenor; and Otto Edelmann, bass. If you aren't familiar with the recording, it is worthwhile for various reasons. Aside from the historical significance, it is one of the most beautiful, poignant, and transcendent Ninths that I have ever heard.

But first we must know the context of this Ninth, which was just one version of the ninety-six (!omfg wtf!) that Furtwängler conducted during his career. Of those ninety-six, there are only nine complete, live recordings that have survived, and the best sound quality resides in the Lucerne 1954 version.

What makes this Ninth so significant is that it managed to polarize a significant moment of meditation and acceptance during the long span of Furtwängler's life. He told his wife, Elisabeth, that of this particular session: "This time I had one foot in the other world." (To read the excerpt, you'll have to scroll all the way down to the bottom of the page under the description of, "Beethoven: Symphony # 9 Choral)". We also know that Furtwängler was in fragile health, nearing death, and that he passed away just three months later on November 30, 1954.

René Trémine (co-founder of Tahra Records) commented that, “The Lucerne concert is moving on more than one count; it can be considered to be Furtwängler’s legacy, his swan song…in fact he was to die three months later.” Furtwängler appeared in a concert hall five additional times before his death: the 25th of August in Lucerne for Bruckner’s Seventh, the 30th of August at the Salzburg Festival, the 6th of September in Besançon for Beethoven concerts (also the location of Dini Lipatti's last recital on September 16, 1950), and the 19th and 20th of September in Berlin for his Second Symphony and Beethoven’s First.

So it is in this recording that we find a man stripped bare and left to examine his own life of regret, indecision, and guilt. There is a sense of the ethereal, the superlative, and a chilling premonition about something much more sublime that flows throughout this recording; a reckoning of his own mortality.

“Dear Myriam Scherchen, Dear René Trémine,”

“I am very happy to give you my authorization ot publish Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony with my husband Wilhelm Furtwängler conducting the Philharmonia Orchestra. It is his last performance of this work at Lucerne on 21st August, 1954. Furtwängler was in excellent condition since that same evening, after the concert, he took the night train to Salzburg where he was expected for the filming of Don Giovanni. Furtwängler dedicated all his life to the exploration and interpretation of the Ninth Symphony.”

By contrast, when you listen to the handful of Furtwänglers' 1942 Ninths (April 19, 1942, and the March 22-24, 1942, which are similar in force and interpretation), you can’t believe that something so deep, layered, and sweet as the Lucerne Ninth was drawn from the same mind that produced such a terrible, thundering, crystalline version like his 1942 Ninths, and that a conductor is capable of such diverse readings of the same composition.

You can watch an excerpt of Furtwängler conducting the Berlin Philharmonic at the AEG factory in 1942, and witness his characteristic "spastic puppet on crack", as Furtwängler had the ugliest conducting idiosyncrasies like for ev4r. The film excerpt comes from the Bel Canto Society's cult DVD, "Great Conductors of the Third Reich", which includes newsreels and archived footage of conductors such as Böhm, Furtwängler, and Karajan amid lots of disgusting Nazi propaganda...as well as a performance during Hitler's birthday party! yay! clowns and cotton-candy and ponies and moon-walks!

Okay, for all you Furtwängler fetishists, I uploaded a few hi-res, rare pictures to the Opera Chic flickr photostream, which you can find here.