Fresh from last night's John Fulljames new production premiere of Donna del Lago at the Royal Opera House comes Rupert Christiansen's review, coined "bellissimo canto". Tackling the ostentatious vocal ornamentation of Rossini's Highlander-lite, happy ending opera was Juan Diego Flórez and Joyce DiDonato:
The sun shines out of Joyce DiDonato’s voice, and her ravishingly beautiful Elena caps the show with a sublime account of the lilting “Tanti affetti”. The technically impeccable Juan Diego Florez is all fire and ardour as Uberto, incandescent in runs and roulades, tireless in his production of rock-steady top Bs and Cs. The house went mad with joy for them both.
In his London house debut was thirty-three year old Italian conductor Michele Mariotti, who saddles with Flórez this August for a Graham Vick-directed Guillaume Tell at his family's Pesaro Rossini Opera Festival.
This Spring, the New England Conservatory will host the American premiere of the Philip Gossett/Fabrizio Scipioni critical edition of Rossini's La Gazzetta.
The fully-staged production will be sung by the Conservatory's students from April 6-9 at Boston's Paramount Theater. Gossett will lead two panels at the Conservatory in anticipation and will be awareded with an honorary NEC doctorate on May 18.
Rossini's 1816 Neapolitan comic gem is based on Goldoni’s Il Matrimonio per concorso (“The Wedding Contest”), libretto by Giuseppe Palomba. The photo above is from Dario Fo's 2005 production with the Gran Teatre del Liceu, starring Cinzia Forte as Lisetta.
The condition of the Old Testament's Jewish slaves is compared to that of the Palestinians. Moses' likeness is borrowed from Osama Bin Laden complete with a beard, a camo jacket and an Uzi.
It's Mosè in Egitto, signed by the pen of Graham Vick, the Artistic Director of the Birmingham Opera Company, who is coming to f**k up your opera house -- Pesaro to be exact -- as tonight inaugurates the production at the Rossini Opera Festival.
OC tweeted it earlier when she browsed Corriere della Sera this morning over a cup (or four) of Konga coffee from Dean and Deluca and here's the full report (all translations are OC's kthnx)...
Vick's polemic version enlists bloodied bodies, Israeli flags, and suicide bombers (which Vick uses to symbolize the biblical plague of fire). The parting of the Red Sea and the exodus happens through a hole in the separation barrier that runs along the West Bank.
Giuseppina Manin of Corriere interviewed the British opera director and writes that the production is Vick's personal statement against fundamentalism and monotheistic religions and that the final dress rehearsal a few days ago drew out an enthusiastic applause (from where all the photos were taken) and that Vick believes that the Old Testament hid the seeds of religious fanaticism and violence.
Vick on Moses:
"It's true, he resembles Bin Laden -- on the contrary, he's an archetype. Moses summarizes in himself all of the fundamentalists. Let's not forget that every terrorist is also a freedom fighter in the eyes of someone else. And besides, Rossini presents him as always angry and threatening. His war against the Egyptians resembles very much a 'holy war' on which to speculate actual jihad. While rereading the works of Rossini, I felt the need to take into consideration how much had befallen the Middle East in the last ten years."
Manin also says that scenes in Vick's production bear witness to the torture of Guantanamo prisoners, the 2002 Moscow theater hostage crisis, and the 2004 Beslan massacre.
But Vick isn't necessarily grinding his political axe:
"There's no intention to provoke or to make anyone angry. I looked only to present various points of view, to push the spectator into rethinking our stories. To reflect, to participate, also emotionally. The biggest stories raise the biggest questions. It's to their merit, the sense of their continuing vitality."
Roberto Abbado conducts the Orchestra del Teatro comunale di Bologna and the cast includes Sonia Ganassi.
Graham Vick is like The Terminator of opera directors: It can't be bargained with. It can't be reasoned with. It doesn't feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever, until you are dead.
(Above: Ponnelle's sweet L'italiana in Algeri at Teatro alla Scala, Credits: Brescia e Amisano, Teatro alla Scala)
Opera Chic's latest piece for Grazia.it is a review of the opening night of Jean-Pierre Ponnelle's 1970s-era endearing production of Rossini's L'italiana in Algeri at La Scala with the kids of Accademia del Teatro alla Scala.
One of the coolest things about the long (and costly) process of learning Italian is that you instantly gain access to loads of information -- about opera, and everything else -- that remains blissfully untranslated into English to this day. Because if on the one hand Oxford University Press translated (some of them at least) the works of Rodolfo Celletti about belcanto, on the other hand we don't have English versions of Gavazzeni and Bortolotto and Barilli and of the Isotta book that in the 1970s shed new essential light on Rossini's opere serie.
Moïse is Ildar Abdrazakov (who appeared at la Scala -- well, at the Arcimboldi -- six years ago in the same work), Pharaon is Nicola Alaimo, Eliézer is Juan Francisco Gatell, Sinaïde is Nino Surguladze, Aménophis is Eric Cutler, Anaï is Marina Rebeka, and Osiride is Alexey Tikhomirov.
It's sometimes quite difficult to convince an audience numbed by countless Barbieri di Siviglia that Rossini's opera seria is actually what the cool kids are listening to; and more powah to Caramoor's 13th season of Bel Canto series (part of the annual International Music Festival in Katonah, NY) to awaken our purer Rossinian sensibilities with the critical edition of Semiramide, one of the Italian composer's grandest opere serie.
Coupled with Semiramide, Caramoor's 2009 Festival offered Donizetti's L'elisir d'amore, another bel canto stunner, conducted by Will Crutchfield and the Orchestra of St. Luke's. But OC was really looking forward to the critical edition of Semiramide, painstakingly studied and prepared by University of Chicago professor & musicologist Philip Gossett (maximum scholar of Italian opera, the general editor of Rossini's and Verdi's critical works, and recipient of the prestigious Cavaliere della Gran Croce). Gossett restored a major cut to Semiramide: the dramatic death scene where the Babylonian princess meets her fate near the finale of the 3.5 hour opera (which was originally added by Rossini for a Paris revival). I mean, after listening to the story about a woman who kills her husband so she can rule as queen and then falls in love with her son, it's nice karma payback.
Through the driving rain that marked the northern pilgrimage to Katonah and the (ew ew ew) muddy floor of the 1700-seat Venetian Theater (really just a glorified, outdoor stage covered by a huge white tent), Caramoor's submissive (and markedly waspy) audience became rather enthused as Semiramide ignited the air and brought all the juicy pathos that we cherish in opera. Via Crutchfield, the Orchestra of St. Luke's, and a cast of excellent singers, the beauties of the score were flawlessly embraced, and the art of bel canto flourished.
The cemeterial, empty worship of dead singers and dead conductors and the adoration for the good old times that might or might not have actually been that good in the first place, together with the YouTube reviewers is one of the most fascinating phenomena in opera -- and probably the creepiest. Historically awesome productions must therefore, to follow the cult of the past, considered de facto lame because, say, Montsy or Claudione or whomever is not there anymore, and the past is always king (for some).
That's why among the more dogmatic Scalagoers the revival of Luca Ronconi's staging of Il Viaggio a Reims was by definition A BAD THING -- because it was once staged with greater musicians on the stage and in the pit.
OC's reaction to all that? She went twice (the premiere before Easter and the seconda rappresentazione after it). And she even liked it more the second time, imperfections and all (because opera is livelier and cooler and, frankly, more alive on a stage than on YouTube or in someone's cranky, possibly unreliable memories)
Rossini's legendary Coronation opera, the last Italian opera he inked (although we hear a revival in Le comte Ory -- one of the four, subsequent French-language operas Rossini stamped before he died), was originally commissioned to celebrate the 1825 coronation of King Charles X in Reims.
Viaggio a Reims is a demanding work, requiring 14 soloists (three sopranos, one contralto, two tenors, four baritones, and four basses culminating in a "Gran Pezzo Concertato" for 14 voices), and to stage coherence amid so many voices and Rossini's sometimes insensitive, comical undertones is a daunting task. There's also the multifaceted chorus, and the entire army of Charles' coronation party. But director Luca Ronconi's direction was sparkling with just one intermission (coming almost 2 hours into the production), and the 3+ hour opera seemed to last only a fraction of the running time.
Ronconi's legendary directorial premiere of Viaggio a Reims was in Pesaro for the 1984 Rossini Opera Festival, which was the first time it was heard with the rediscovered cuts & reconstruction, meticulously prepared by musicologist Janel Johnson & professor/musicologist Philip Gossett in the 1970s. The same production has been resurrected a handful of times: In 1985 at La Scala (again with Claudio Abbado); in the early 1990s at Pesaro & Ferrara for Rossini's bicentennial; and in 1999 for the Rossini Opera Festival (this one boasting Daniele Gatti leading our lamby prince, Juan Diego Florez ). Director John Cox tried for Covent Garden in the 90s, as did James Robinson for the New York City Opera, but none could adequately compete with Ronconi's perpetual exposition...not even Dario Fo's excellent (but politicized & liberally adapted) version for the Finnish National Opera in 2003.
o hai who's that secksay girl with the razor? Once in a while an opera promotional campaign comes along that just clicks...and leaves you wondering why no one had thought of it before -- nay, why you hadn't yourself. We're sorta getting that vibe from the playful new ads created for Opera Tampa's upcoming Barbiere di Siviglia.
Modeled after that famous 1993 Vanity Fair cover, shot by late/great Herb Ritts, our two young singers pose in homage to the gender-bending vignette of K.D. Lang getting a shave by Cindy Crawford.
In the photo above, American mezzo Jennifer Rivera as Rosina prepares to groom American tenor Greg Schmidt as Count Almaviva, publicizing the December 5th and 7th productions of Barbiere for Opera Tampa. La Rivera explains more on her blog, "Trying to remain opera-tional" (you can also go there for high-res images):
"Here in Tampa, we have a very short rehearsal period before the performances. They scheduled a photo shoot for the second day we were here, and since we didn't have the costumes yet, the PR guy had the very clever idea to copy a former Vanity Fair cover of Cindy Crawford shaving K.D. Lang who was reclining in an old time Barber's chair.[...]"
"[...]I am soooooo not a sexy vixen in real life, so this photo shoot was a big stretch for me, but he finally got some good expressions at the end of the shoot when I just gave up and stopped trying.[...]"
Please, girl...the secksiness has liftoff -- destination: Jennifer Rivera. Frankly, we wish that wardrobe & make-up could have been a bit fiercer (like smokey, sultry eyes/red lips for la Rivera paired with a couture/vintage dress & accessories) but we give it A+++ for effort for rubbing us in all the right places. We understand we're working with a limited budget here.
We hope to find Ms. Rivera in 2011 @ Teatro Communale di Bologna's La Clemenza in the reprisal of Graham Vick's masterful production we saw last May in Torino. We thoroughly lauded Monica Bacelli's Sesto (La Rivera was the secondary cast's Sesto), but are looking forward to sampling her skillz. Maybe like, a sultry Sesto? hmmmm...
Rossini Opera Festival, that wonderful institution that almost singlehandedly keeps gloriously alive the wonder of Rossini's less popular (ie, best) operas, is touring Japan: the traveling show takes place Nov. 15-16 @ Biwako
Hall, Shiga Prefecture; and Nov. 18, 20, 22 and 23 at Bunkamura
Orchard Hall, Tokyo. The program is "Otello" on Nov.
16, 20 and 22; and "Maometto II" on Nov. 15, 18 and 23.
We've been wondering what our little Peruvian lamb has been up to, hearing only small trickles of JDF news crossing our paths these past few months.
Rest assured, no news is good news, as Flórez is chillaxing in London, preparing for the Thursday night premiere of Rossini's Matilde di Shabran with the Royal Opera House. (tho this is kinda scary: "PLEASE NOTE: ACT 1 runs at 2 hours 10 minutes without a scene change [...]") omg whaaaaaa?
The show continues 5 more dates, ending on Tuesday, November 11 for its already completely sold-out run. Juan Diego Flórez will be dazzling the London audiences as Corradino with Matilde di Shabran sung by Polish soprano Aleksandra Kurzak, and Carlo Rizzi on the podium.
While we're waiting for reviews and pics, we'll sate ourselves with this 1996 documentary when Matilde di Shabranwas sung in August of the same year at Pesaro's Rossini Opera Festival with the rookie, AAA MVP player Flórez just up from the minors, and a baby Elisabeth Futral accompanying a fresh-faced Yves Abel.
Here, Juan Diego Flórez talks about singing Corradino (in Italian with French subtitles) as a young little angnellino!
And the rest is here, with with Yves Abel, Elisabeth Futral, Patricia Spence, and some other dudes.
Today's Corriere della Sera -- not online -- in a review under the headline "The Two Abbados Mesmerize Pesaro With Ermione" -- cheers Roberto Abbado's conducting of Rossini' Ermione at Rossini Opera Festival -- the awesome Pesaro musical institution -- the other night.
Conductor Roberto Abbado earns a "bravissimo" from Corriere's critic and his cousin Daniele Abbado (Claudio's son), the director, adds, in Corriere's words, "a pinch of madness" to the production. Ermione gets relocated to Weimar-era Berlin with a bonus -- a final "procession of masks, a chaotic, Dyonisian humanity". Propsicles to the lead, Sonia Ganassi, to Marianna Pizzolato and the unsinkable Gregory Kunde ("even if he has shown signs of fatigue towards the end", writes the paper).
Opera Chic -- a Rossini lover who could easily spend the rest of her life without going to see another Barbiere -- Marinuzzi's old veto still makes a lot of sense -- has a weakness for Rossini's opera seria, and it's really lame that such a genius of tragedy has been sentenced by Fate to be remembered as opera's silly funnyman -- it's a shame that many works, written in Italian, that gave scholars a better understanding of Rossini's opera seria achievements -- works, among others, by the essential Bruno Cagli and by Paolo Isotta -- have never been translated into English.
Anyway, patriotic as always, OC is happy to report that the USA answered to this Italian invasion of Rossini scholarship with an all-American heavy hitter -- thank heavens for our dear Uncle Philip Gossett aka Il Professore aka The Dark Knight Of The Critical Editions -- he's Cavaliere di Gran Croce of the Italian Republic, yo. His "Divas And Scholars" latest book is a constant -- as authoritative as it is massive -- presence on Opera Chic's desk, right next to her pile of magazines (the latest issues of Vogue Nippon and Russian Elle & vintage copies of Egoïste for reference), her framed portrait taken by Terry Richardson, her Pettinaroli personalized stationery and her MacBook Air.
Anyway, enjoy one of OC's favorite Ermione, the smoky Bulgarian sultriness of Alexandrina Pendatchanska:
Among the very many cool things related to our spending the Summer back home in the US -- family & friends, Starbucks, Montauk, 24 hr. everything -- there's a big minus: Opera Chic will not be able to attend the insanely awesomeness of the Rossini Opera Festival, that begins tomorrow night in Pesaro (the program).
Among the gems, two new productions -- "Ermione" (conducted by Roberto Abbado and directed by Daniele Abbado) and "Maometto II" -- and then "L'Equivoco stravagante", a recital by el mejor tenor ligero de la historia, Juan Diego Florez, then Carmela Remigio, Lawrence Brownlee and Opera Chic's dear Ciofolina, aka Patrizia Ciofi; "Il viaggio a Reims" with the cool kids from Accademia Rossiniana.
With a only a tiny fraction of Salzburg's budget, and its PR pull.
La Scala, so often the reign of the overrated and the overhyped and the overpaid, nevertheless manages to mantain a few standards of excellence: one of these areas where, really, you can't touch them, is the Chorus of the Teatro alla Scala. Then let us praise the man who brings the chorus to such superhuman standards of excellence: Maestro Del Coro Bruno Casoni, whose work is always spotless, always world class.
Riccardo Chailly and Casoni’s 100-person strong chorus played last nite at Scala for a short & sweet choralicious concert.
First up was Igor Stravinsky/Stravinskij’s Symphony of Psalms, which was too warm, too creamy, and too graceful -- it needed more edge, more hard edges, more threat. The tempi were pristine, but without that edge, it flowed together too elegantly for the at times terrifying Psalms. The audience reciprocated with a lukewarm applause.
Gioachino Rossini’s Stabat Mater was next, but we were already familiar with Chailly's Stabat Mater from his 2003 recording with the Concertgebouw Orchestra (and la Frittoli) Chailly conducted sumptuous and layered, a perfect Rossinian sound that morphed into something more ethereal at times. Not as otherworldly as the best Rossini Stabat Mater that we will ever hear (Carlo Maria Giulini, the Proms, 1981) because Chailly became a little too muscled at the end, but only via the male chorus, the tenors during Amen, in sempiterna had an ugly, rough edge for the final series of climaxes.
Soprano Svetla Vassileva she was in good form, wearing a cream layered dress and crystal encrusted high sandals. Mezzo-soprano Sonia Ganassi was the bomb, vocally, in a glittery black dress. Dmitry Korchak’s light tenor was sweet and lovely, but he couldn't quite attack those high notes so well. Bass Mirco Palazzi was good, but had a reedy quality to his voice that didn’t translate well enough against the passion of Chailly’s vision.
At the end of the night, the audience (which was a full turnout, but not packed by any means) went crazy with applause for over five minutes. Maestro del Coro Bruno Casoni got the hugest applause of the night, markedly bigger than the one for Chailly.
Despite a couple of lovely tunes and some ingenious ensembles, the
musical substance of the opera is jejune and banal, stuffed with
perfunctory runs, sequences and cadences, and buttressed with crude
orchestration and raw harmony. Rossini wrote much better operas -
Tancredi and La Gazza Ladra, for example - which get far less exposure.
Now, Toby Spence is no Juan Diego (duh), and Evelino Pidò is no Bruno Campanella, and you might like Madge or not (we do, o yes, we do), and anyway il maestro Alessandro Corbelli is firmly in the "can-do-no-wrong" team; but seriously, somebody must have badly interfered with il Ruperto's mood to the point that they horribly clouded his judgement.
Because one thing is clear to any clear-headed observer: between the blinding flashes of surreal humor (Dandini, DonMagnifico), the sweet moments of introspection (Angelina) and her big arias that sound ripped from an opera seria, Rossini wrote in Cenerentola -- also thanks to the libretto by Jacopo Ferretti that has the bulletproof structure and the sustained wit of a Hollywood classic from the 1930s -- a timeless masterpiece, one of his most musically sophisticated works, and a bedrock example of his true genius.
The 28th edition of Pesaro's Rossini Opera Festival has closed with a record attendance: 20,000 tkts sold for a total of 1,100,000 euros -- the Festival never had it so good. And 18 shows of Otello, Turco in Italia, Gazza ladra, Viaggio a Reims, Edipo/Nozze and Petite Messe Solennelle sold out. 70% of visitors came from abroad -- Rossini Opera Festival has been invited to tour Japan with two productions in late 2008.
Next year, ROF will take place from August 9 to 23, with two new productions: Ermione (directed by Daniele Abbado) and Maometto II (Michael Hampe). A Juan Diego Florez recital will open the Festival on the 9th.
Gregory Kunde is not only Otello at Rossini Festival, but, next Sunday, he'll also give a recital concert -- accompanied by Beryl Garver on the piano (Chris Merritt was supposed to sing, but he canceled).
The VERY interesting program: Beethoven's Adelaide; Chanson triste, Le manoir de Rosemonde, Phydile by Opera Chic's beloved Henri Duparc. The Year's at the Spring, Ah, Love, but a Day and I Send My Heart up to Thee by Amy Marcy Cheney Beach; Guitare, Comment, disaient-ils?, Puisqùici-bas toute, Dieu qui sourit et qui donne by Edouard-Victor-Antoine Lalo; and finally Rossini: Pechès de vieillesse: Vol. XIII, Musique anodine «Mi lagnerò tacendo» n. 1Prelude, allegretto moderato, n. 4 allegretto moderato, n. 3 Andantino moderato; Vol. I, Album italiano n. 3 Tirana alla spagnola rossinizzata.
Even if only a Howard Hawks or a Preston Sturges or a Billy Wilder would be able to properly convey the slapstick genius of that masterpiece that is Il Signor Bruschino, Gioacchino Rossini at his youthful silliest, the photos of this production of the opera, opening tomorrow in Rome, Daniele Abbado director, make Opera Chic happy.
(and remember that a kicka$$ Bruschinohas just been reprinted by DG: Samuel Ramey and la regina Kathleen Battle for a deliciously low price)
Because Opera Chic was watching an amazing Carlo Maria Giulini 1981 concert -- OC has for Maestro Giulini the kind of devotion that Catholics have for saints -- a truly transcendent Stabat Mater (Rossini), with the beloved maestro tall and gaunt and gawky and so handsome with his superlong arms, soaring with the music and singing along -- as he liked to do, a habit that would baffle us if it were not him -- with the huge Philharmonia chorus that obviously worshipped him (as they should btw).
And then the director cut to the audience & we saw the infidel:
a super-nerdy d00d in muttonchops & a Donkey Kong or Magilla Gorilla* or whatever T-SHIRT!!! "Prince Alberts"?
*(Opera Chic wasn't even born back then, giv it a rest)
Why oh why???!!!
For reals, man, you're getting out of the house to go listen to the greatest Stabat Mater like, ev4r -- couldn't you wear something really formal like a shirt? Shoes, even? (he was clearly wearing sandals). And LEAVE THAT BONG AT HOME!
Anyway: the music was otherworldy, and a radiant Katia Ricciarelli (OC is a fan) totally looked like a plumper happier Hannah Schygulla without the creepy Fassbinder moments.
