Opera Chic

La Scala's Bondy Tosca Remix

Puccini's Hitchcockian masterpiece, Il Tabarro, remains a vastly underrated work but at least it didn't suffer Tosca's sad fate -- the fetishization of a minor, if scarily effective work by an angry posse of self-appointed custodians of operatic correctness. A Tosca that does not conform to a certain dramatic -- not to mention musical -- template won't go down well -- tamper with at your own risk, if you're a director of conductor. Scala's new Tosca -- directed by Luc Bondy and conducted by Omer Meir Wellber -- does not conform, neither dramatically nor musically, to anything, sentenced to a difficult life in conservative houses -- like previously The Metropolitan Opera, and now, La Scala.

Flashback to September 2009 season opener for The Metropolitan Opera, when New Yorkers politely freaked the f**k out as Bondy's controversial Tosca premiered to replace the benedicted, Zeffirelli-anointed Tosca of seasons past where shouts of ~eurotrash~ unfairly rose to hysterical volumes (OC's editorial here). Now, Luc Bondy's production heard around the world opened a few weeks ago in Milan and is rounding third base of its run.

In the tenuous light of early January, rumors buzzed that Bondy's conception for Puccini's opera noir would be eviscerated by Scala's traditional audience, notably the blood-lusty loggione, starved of fresh meat and cranky from crappy christmas stockings full of coal -- and Tosca's opening night was appropriately full of drama.

Last minute cancellations of its four principals was blamed on a nasty, opportunistic virus, which prompted Scala Intendant Stephane Lissner to make a rare, pre-show stage appearance to placate the foaming masses. Among the sick was Jonas Kaufmann (Cavaradossi #1), Oksana Dyka (Tosca #1), Marco Berti (Cavaradossi #2) and Davide Pellissero (Sciarrone). At la prima's final curtain call, young Israeli conductor and Barenboim pupil Omer Meir Wellber took the most heat, viscerally booed by both the audience (and apparently the orchestra) in a passionate brawl between the younger and older generations of loggione.

For La Scala's replications, Bondy's production had been changed, slightly however, down to mere details. Richard Peduzzi's sets still feel solid, especially Act I's rustic Chuch of Sant'Andrea della Valle (and yes, Cavaradossi's portrait of Mary Magdalene still has an exposed tit). Scarpia's apartment in Act II's Palazzo Farnese still has the three whores, although less whorey in diaphanous gowns with lap dancing and oral sexing left on the cutting room floor. Little changes peppered stage direction, but the minutiae converged into a more linear, less clumsy narrative, and the changes brought Tosca closer to Luigi Illica and Giuseppe Giacosa's melodrama, although still far enough to leave the Tosca fetishists annoyed.

Star of the night was Sondra Radvanovsky's Tosca, who had earlier subbed on opening night for the stricken Dyka. Earlier tonight she sang her last Tosca of the run and then she's off to Teatro Regio Torino to star as the lead in Verdi's enormous I Vespri siciliani with Gianandrea Noseda conducting a special run in commemoration of Italy's 150th anniversary of unification (it falls on March 17). As lead Tosca, Radvanovsky hit her stride immediately, giving a stellar performance -- spinning an effortless, stunning, confident Tosca that anchored the cast. She was the full package vocally, dramatically, and physically, a winning trifecta of ticket-to-budget ratio. She adapted the full spectrum of Tosca's pop-dimensional character expression -- vulnerable, courageous, contrite, jealous -- with elegant ease. Rock solid, she balanced old-school preparation and musicianship with modern presence. Her immense voice, honeyed at its top and chilling in the middle showed gorgeous color all around. From Act I's duet with Cavaradossi "Ah Quegli occhi" to Act II's hook, Vissi d'arte, she was on point.

Marco Berti as Cavaradossi was strongly delineated and had a solid presence, his "E lucevan le stelle" sensitive and moving. Zeljko Lucic's Scarpia was fine, and the role was sung with the understanding that Scarpia's not just the scary bad dude, but a man of intelligence and poise.

As for Omer Meir Wellber's musical interpretation that left him roasted by the audience on opening night? For traditionalists, we understand the dissatisfaction with Wellber's perfectly un-Puccini interpretation. We're more accustomed to De Sabata's (mind you: masterful, as it is always the case with DeSabata) Tosca: moody chiaroscuro with juicy foreshadowing and leitmotifs. A poem on man's evil, manipulative, bloody nature.

Wellber's disjointed Tosca lacked all of that in a subdued, delineated wash. It was an optimist's Tosca full of melodic outbursts in brilliantly-bright color -- although never brassy -- it was exaggerated and experimental. At its worst, it was too muted, too subdued for Puccini's darkly profound score, and when moments of clairty beckoned, Wellber was too jubilant and too celebratory. At even worse moments, Wellber skimmed the surface of the score, and the result was an aloofness and flaky detachment.

So it's down to two theories: Wellber understood early on that he wouldn't be able to keep Puccini's monster afloat and resorted to Plan B by marking the composition with enough idiosyncrasies that it became something else. Or he was trying to balance the severity of Puccini's thunder with overlays of light. In teh end, Wellber's Puccini makes you think -- and rethink your preconceived notions of how Puccini sounded on your parent's dusty CDs. And that's the attitude we like for a 2011 Tosca.

Luc Bondy's Playlist

Olivier Bellamy, who's totally French and totally cool, just had Luc Bondy on his radio program and Bondy gave up his playlist:

Madeleines

Bob Dylan, "To Ramona" 

Leonard Cohen, "A Thousand Kisses Deep"

Classical

Chopin, Fantasy in F minor opus 49 (Pletnev) 

Rossini, ouverture of "Cenerentola" (Abbado)

Mozart, “Oh, Voto Tremendo” (Idomeneo, Act III)

Verdi, Lacrymosa, from the "Requiem"

Rossini, "Petite Messe Solemnelle"

Haydn, "Cello Concerto N. 1", adagio, Jacqueline Du Pré 

Mozart, "Concerto N. 19" (Haskil)

Schubert: "Sonata D 960" (Richter), 4th movement

Tosca Final Review: Let's Put this Baby to Bed

Don't shoot the messenger. Lash out at Swiss director Luc Bondy for retooling Zeffirelli's nonthreatening, stately Tosca. Go ahead, he doesn't mind. Hard times call for stripped-down flamboyance, although hard times make one crave familiar creature comforts. Hence, it's impossible to please everyone, and the traditionalist audience was already sharpening their claws at the thought alone of a new Tosca. And thus the new Luc Bondy (in his Metropolitan debut, about 35 years after he debuted everywhere else -- he's old news even at dusty la Scala) production of Puccini’s Tosca opened the Metropolitan Opera’s 2009-10 season to what can diplomatically be described as "mixed" reviews where no production team member was free from criticism (and the singers mostly got away with it, in the usual NYC fashion).

The first season planned entirely by the team of General Manager Peter Gelb and Music Director James Levine, there's no one left to blame. No worries, as the opera is a co-production of Teatro alla Scala and the Bayerische Staatsoper, where it will show to Europe's blasé crowds (Daniele Gatti will conduct the Scala outing).

Too many cultural barometers for Bondy's visceral vision of Tosca, which thrusts itself on an audience yearning for nostalgia in a year fraught with crisis. Remember, it was Franco Zeffirelli's 1985 Tosca that premiered in a very different time: Ronald Reagan, yuppies with silly slicked back hair paving through big Wall Street profits, and really, our biggest foreign responsibility was famine relief in Ethiopia and trying not blow the Russians up if at all possible. Minimal, stark, intellectual stagings are nothing new for Bondy, nor is insisting upon the audience the intricacies of the libretto. Frengo's comforting, romanticized versions of Italy euthanized audiences: no Under the Tuscan Suns found here, this time, Bondy's Tosca will not do wonders for tourism -- no frozen, packaged fish already de-boned, deodorized, and de-headed.

Michael Bay or Michael Haneke? You can't have both.

Act I and a black curtain rises on the interior of Sant'Andrea della Valle. Tosca in the Napoleonic era. Cavaradossi finishes his portrait of Mary Magdalene, left breast exposed. Levine's conducting lovely and acceptable, but again, gutted of the storm and tempestuous foreshadowing that Puccini had flitted through his manuscript. A bit too maudlin and no new ideas to match Bondy's crystalline vision. We wanted a sound more harmonious with the cruel and abusive plot, more chiaroscuro, less pretty modeling. Separately, both leads showed weaknesses.

Karita Mattila sang the title role for the first time (outside of Finland -- she sang Tosca at Helsinki's Finnish National Opera in 2006) and although she poured herself into Tosca's shoes heroically, it was misplaced, and she was unable to pull the character through the full dimension. The underlying vulnerability that's overtly squandered as the opera unfolds was never there. Matilla was too haughty and severe from the beginning (stabbily destroying Cavaradossi's Mary Magdalene painting in an uncontrollable fit of jealousy, which was effective foreshadowing) focusing rather obtusely on the strengths of the character. She played a mature Tosca, contemplative and exacting. At times detached, casting Matilla in this role is like walking into Le Bernardin and ordering a hamburger: she's banked decades of successful reviews in German, Czech, and Russian (superbly singing in Salome, Eugene Onegin, Jenůfa & Kát’a Kabanová) but her Italian repertoire is too much of a stretch for the demanding soprano. And while the top of her vocal range wasn't entirely pleasant, her bottom notes were expressive without being too dark or muddled.

Marcelo Álvarez as Mario Cavaradossi at times showed-off gorgeous high notes, while his acting was convincing and thoughtful. A fine, if slightly unexciting Cavaradossi. Music Director James Levine (who made his Met debut conducting Tosca in 1971) ducked his head and forged forward with his orchestra, slowing down tempi at times that left the action on stage too static. Vissi d'arte was slowed-down to a point of nonrecognition, almost bringing the aria to a grinding halt.

George Gagnidze replaced last-minute Finnish bass-bariton, Juha Uusitalo, who pulled out as Scarpia due to illness (shame, as his Scarpia played opposite Mattila in the 2006 Finnish National Opera's Tosca). He played the menacing, cruel aristocrat without all the comedic flashings of a villain (thankfully). The one sore spot was his fateful death, a bit too hammy, all that upside-down floundering that was supposed to be gritty and visceral, but came across as drawn-out, a fish floundering for air (nor was it aided by Mattila's slightly glazed-over indifference). Bondy's big ideas were all there, but executed in a rushed, half-baked blocking. His ideas lacked full fruition, but the foundation was solid. With a different cast and different conductor, this production could be stellar: Stick around for a swapped-out (and frankly, upgraded) roster in April 2010, starring Daniela Dessì as Tosca, Jonas Kaufmann and Marcello Giordani splitting Cavaradossi, Bryn Terfel and Gagnidze sharing Scarpia, and Joseph Colaneri and Philippe Auguin with the conducting duties. 

Act II's soaring assembly room of mustards and browns hearkened to Fascist Italy, with the three whores of Scarpia lounging on the red velvet couches. Shortcomings? We wish there had been more whores! As opposed to the uber-sexual Robert Carsen that always puts the thunder in our Yamamotos and trills in our panties, Bondy had difficulties with staging the eroticism of the opera, and rather, fell back on unimaginative representations of sex to provoke the lust. The excellent costumes of Milena Canonero, the Turin-born costumière and Otto Schenk co-conspirator, helped smooth over the bumps effectively as a three time Academy Award winner (for Barry Lyndon, Chariots of Fire, and Marie Antoinette, tho she also did the costumes for A Clockwork Orange, The Cotton Club, and Out of Africa). 

Sets were well-constructed and elegant, designed by French set designer Richard Peduzzi (long-time collaborator with Patrice Chéreau, to which you'll see his work later this Fall in Janáček’s From the House of the Dead with Esa-Pekk) who was also making his Metropolitan Opera debut. Act III, the prison and ramparts of Castel Sant'Angelo were laid bare, elegant and understated, the perfect backdrop for such tragedy.

The traditionalists had been fearing this opening night for ages, another push that the old, craggy singers of their glory days go buried along with Zeffirelli's sets, irrelevant and mute. But Zeffirelli's going-thru-the-motions Tosca is what the Metropolitan audiences want anyway (listen, the MET is an American opera house for patriots only and it's cool and all that you like drinking tea and eating dumplings or whatever the hell they do in your third-world country for fun, but this is America and we don't have to cater to you). Europe's best intellects get filleted by the MET (Graham Vick). No (obvious) knife, no candles rolled through by the prop department -- is this what really makes a theatrically artistic vision so detestable?

Props can be left to the imagination if one is willing to stretch their comfort zones so far. Opening night at the MET, it was apparently too much to ask.

Only In New York; i.e. "To Me, Eurotrash is Zeffirelli". The Opera Chic Editorial

Only in New York City would an essentially conventional, prudent opera director such as Luc Bondy be considered some sort of insane, incendiary bomb-thrower, the Piero Manzoni (link mildly NSFW) of the opera world. It's New York at its most unfavorable; the city where at the opera house, blessed are the meek because new things and new ideas make the audiences nervous and desperate, where singers get standing ovations, karaoke-style, just for showing up -- the Tosca premiere no exception -- and directors don't even have to be faithful to the libretto (a highly debatable definition to begin with) but they simply should be as Zeffirelli-like as they can.

"What would Franco do?", the director is supposed to think, then act accordingly: when in doubt, over-decorate, cram mind-numbing detail into every corner to show the audience that they really got their money's worth. Oh, and sex is also a very bad, scary thing -- and anyway, some big paper critics want the rape victims to be as hot as they can be -- "She was also remarkably unsexy, which made one wonder what Scarpia was so excited about", wrote the Wall Street Journal about poor Karita Mattila, that the financial newspaper, always pragmatic, simply didn't find rape-able -- not hot enough to be attacked by Scarpia, Tosca must not have asked for it badly enough.

One is therefore worried and a bit saddened by New York that as of late, gleefully collects opera directors heads like wildlife mounts in Teddy Roosevelt's study -- first Graham Vick then Mary Zimmerman and now Luc Bondy, the latest stag sacrificed on the altar of the city's opera-going mediocrity. Only in New York, seriously, a half-a$$ed minimalist like Bondy could be depicted as some sort of deranged Calixto Bieito by an audience eager to preserve (in amber) Franco Zeffirelli's stagings for all eternity (and obviously Frengo, for all his by0tchyness, does well what he does -- his old Bohème and Tosca and Aida and more than a few other stagings are indeed well thought out and worth seeing -- but, really, how many times? Like, forever?).

"To me, Eurotrash is Zeffirelli", Graham Vick once said, and it's hard not to think of his prophecy in the middle of all this Tosca chatter.

Bondy unsurprisingly and predictably got on the nerves of opera-goers that consider stark sets an insult to the art form -- they want opera as Moulin Rouge, as a Disneyland version of a romanticized, European past that might or might not have existed in the first place. Zeffirelli obviously delivers their goods, with more taste and talent than most of his contemporaries -- he is and will always remain a 1950s man, with the happy exception of his Busseto pocket-size "Aida". An audience that essentially knows what it wants -- traditional stagings, big stars (even in the sad twilights of their careers, see Pavarotti's last hurrah), big voices, designer costumes, expensive-looking sets -- is pretty hard to deal with, especially in a time of financial crisis. And for all the "Broadway Pete" talk, once the Met audience roughs up a couple more new directors -- one can only imagine what David McVicar's Pasolini-style Salome or his orgiastic Rigoletto would ignite among the Metropolitan opera-goers -- poor Peter Gelb will basically have to hire back Zeffirelli and have him rehash his old stuff, or raise poor Jean-Pierre Ponnelle from the dead, and then Luchino, too, and usher in the glorious new age of the zombie opera directors -- zombies who, famously, like to eat brains, and in their Metropolitan opera outings would probably end up skipping dinner, if last night's reaction is anything to go by.

Killing Me Softly (with a knife): Bondy's Tosca for the Metropolitan Opera

OC is back from the bloodsport opening night of the Metropolitan Opera's 2009/10 season, which unveiled Luc Bondy's new, heated production of Puccini's Tosca. A smattering of boos came from the Family Circle after the second act, which only multiplied by the final curtain call, raining down on the production team -- who knew better than to take the jeers to heart.

The evening wasn't about the Tosca lead, Finnish soprano Karita Mattila (although no one really thought the Fearless Finn would triumph, and after a lukewarm applause for Vissi d'Arte, it was clear she wouldn't be slam-dunking the role), nor was the evening about Argentinian tenor Marcelo Alvarez (as Cavaradossi, he didn't disappoint but he didn't totally sparkle, although E lucevan le stelle was thoughtful, savored, and heartfelt). The evening was all about Luc Bondy's out-with-the-old/in-with-the-new production, pushing Franco Zefferelli's classic and patriotically adored sets into storage, the nostalgia for better times clinging viscerally to an insecure audience.

Frankly, Tosca isn't the fairytale postcard illusion that Franco Zeffirelli conceived for the Metropolitan Opera's adoring audiences years ago -- rather it's a nightmare of despair, rage, and trauma. Wrapped in Zeffirelli's Norman Rockwellian patina, that bitter pill is complacently swallowed by fans who bittersweetly remember Pavarotti limping painfully through the maze of Act III's upturned stones. We have unrelenting respect for Frengo -- we enjoyed his Aida extravaganza at Scala from a couple years ago (much more than poor Alagna, at least) -- but opera, like cinema, is banal when it goes too long unchallenged.

Zeffirelli's equilibrium-heavy direction spoon feeds every single nuance of the libretto -- no knife goes (un)brandished, no elephant goes (un)strutted, and no lace hat goes (un)tipped -- which is comforting, and makes the most aloof spectator duly enlightened. Bondy's direction asserted too much, and assumed that everyone had brushed-up on their European history (and Stendhal's Italian Chronicles).

Unfortunately, James Levine's conducting was the disappointment of the evening. We've heard his Metropolitan Opera Tosca many times live before, and it never ceased to chill us with swaths of intricate color and peppery foreshadowing, leitmotifs nailed. Tonight, however, Levine slowed-down the tempi to a tenuous, schmaltzy sentiment that lacked chiaroscuro, delicious shades, pathos, or punch. Karita Mattila's Tosca was detached, somewhat preoccupied, and lacked a certain vulnerability that makes the character's strength more powerful. Vocally, we prefer a more encompassing color, although Mattila's lower register had us reeling with its bone-chilling assertiveness. George Gagnidze's Scarpia was provocative and solid ('tho his Italian diction left some to be desired).

Richard Peduzzi's sets were deliciously well-constructed (none of that cheap material & shoddy craftsmanship that we had with Zimmerman's Lucia) and architecturally sumptuous. Act I's Chuch of Sant'Andrea della Valle was the archetype of Italy's most gorgeous, rustic and elegant churches -- you know, the ones that aren't in the guidebooks that tourists don't bother visiting because there's no stained glass or pink marble or powdery frescoes -- just soaring, harmonious brick. Instead of a flowing procession for the Te Deum masterpiece, Bondy swarmed & coagulated the priests into a suffocating and oppressive swell. Act II's Palazzo Farnese was a cruel, Fascist ode to tyrannical abusive power instead of Zeffirelli's hyper-realistic, almost comical library. Act III's ramparts of Castel Sant'Angelo brought us allusions to Manet's Execution of Maximilian. Scattered moments of Bondy's direction came across as awkward and affected, but good chemistry between the singers helped spurn the action when it hiccuped. Stripped of sentimentality, this was a thinking man's Tosca. And we were illuminated. Full review coming later...

TOSCA! TONIGHT!

Luc Bondy (in his Metropolitan Opera premiere) unveils his new production of Puccini's Tosca to open the 2009/10 season, tonight at 6:30pm. Filling Bondy's on-stage vision is Karita Mattila as Tosca (singing the role for the first time outside of her native Finland), Marcelo Álvarez as Cavaradossi, George Gagnidze as Scarpia, and James Levine on the podium.

If you won't be in the Metropolitan Opera audience tonight, the Met makes it super easy to be part of the Tosca opening night festivities, even without a ticket. The performance will be transmitted live from the opera house to multiple jumbotrons in both Times Square and Lincoln Center's Robertson Plaza. Both events are free, but tickets are required for the Lincoln Center broadcast (which were handed out yesterday...sucks for you if you missed it)! If you missed the crush for Lincoln Center tickets, you can head down to Times Square, where 2,000 free seats await crowds on a first-come, first-serve basis (there'll also be standing room provisions).

Housebound fans can also listen to the performance by going to the Metropolitan Opera's website, which will offer a live audio stream on their website (albeit via Real Player's cumbersome software). You can also listen on Metropolitan Opera Radio on SIRIUS channel 78 and XM Channel 79.

You can also catch this Tosca when the production inaugurates the MET's "Live in HD" season on October 10th, where the Saturday matinée performance will be transmitted live to movie theaters around the country.

Bondy's Tosca will have eight performances total, starting tonight and ending on Saturday, October 17 -- plus a revival in April & May with Philippe Auguin conducting Daniela Dessi's Tosca (*unf unf unf*) with Jonas Kaufmann and Marcello Giordani splitting the role of Cavaradossi, and Bryn Terfel as Scarpia.

Luc Bondy's Tosca: First Photos of the New Metropolitan Opera Production

Here are a few photos from the dress rehearsal of Luc Bondy's new production of Tosca, which will premiere and open the 2009/10 season of The Metropolitan Opera on Monday, September 21, 2009. James Levine conducts Karita Mattila in the title role with Marcelo Álvarez as Cavaradossi, George Gagnidze as Scarpia, and Paul Plishka as Sacristan.

(Above: George Gagnidze as Scarpia)

(Above: Karita Mattila and George Gagnidze)

(Above: Marcelo Álvarez as Cavaradossi)

All photos Mary Altaffer

Luc Bondy's Not So Minimalist King Lear

Except for the inexcusable depiction of those stereotypical greedy Jewish priests that ruined his La Scala production of Salome, Luc "I'm So Dry My Stagings Makes The Sahara Look Clammy" Bondy is, with the awesome Graham Vick, one of Opera Chic's favorite living opera directors: and he is in Vienna at the BurgTheater right now for a King Lear with Gert Voss (sorry: mit Gert Voss) that sounds really tasty and premieres tomorrow.

Image gallery here (edit: image no. 7 nsfw), courtesy of the worldly Welt. Interview with Bondy (audio) is here.

Salome: It pretty much rawked.

From last night’s la prima of Strauss’ Salome at Teatro alla Scala, the staging is basically the same as this DVD from a few years ago, which is the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden BBC filming that was conducted by Christoph von Dohnányi, and starred Catherine Malfitano as Salome, and Jochanaan as Bryn Terfel. It is also somewhat the same as the Salzburg Festival production from 1992, with a few modifications.

For those who are thinking of going: if you sit anywhere stage right for this production, you won’t see anything. I mean nothing. Bondy has implemented a very user-unfriendly, deep staging that left a few of OC’s friends from last night (who had very expensive palchi) very dissatisfied.

(Image of Bondy-directed Salome from the 15 euro production catalog.)

The scenery resembled an underground utility space evocative of the maze-like concrete structures that stretch under many USA colleges. Jochanaan’s cistern was a cavernous, menacing trench in the ground (heh: he was a cave troll), which was flanked by an angled ramp, where much of the action and flitting of Salome took place (she took a full roll down it during the Dance of the Seven Veils, wrapped like a mummy in a silver scarf, and shedding the layers as she tumbled downwards).

Nadja Michael's Salome adhered to her latest quotes and description from La Repubblica. She came across as an immature, annoying, spoiled sixteen-year old girl. Her swimmer’s form gave her an agile, toned, athletic edge, and she leapt around the stage as lithely as a gymnast. She commanded a full voice, with deafening passages that somehow even soared above Harding’s super-thunderous conducting. She rose to the demand of the incredibly difficult music, and was petit enough to be somatically-convincing of the part (at thirty-seven years, she is nevertheless petite and fresh-faced enough to pull-off a teenager). La Danza dei Sette Veli was choreographed by a ballerina, and retained that signature. The dance was difficult (and was lauded more for technique/skill rather than interpretation), and had so many opportunities for the soprano to stumble or falter, but she pulled it off wonderfully.

Jochanaan was Falk Struckmann, with a powerful voice, and a towering presence. The one thing lacking in this Salome was the complete absence of sexy. It just wasn’t there. The combination of cold blue lighting, with the rawk-hard body of Nadja Michael, and the fact that she remained covered in her diaphanous layers just didn’t bring tha passion. She had stated in that La Repubblica article, “La mia danza e' si piena di erotismo...” But I saw more erotic behavior on that C-SPAN Senate hearing on School Food Nutrition.

Harding was fluent, and purveyed a huge, distressing sound. The loggionisti lost their pewp during his curtain call, but he was well-deserving. Chilling at parts, especially during "Ah! Ich habe deinen Mund gekusst, Jochanann." He proficiently suffused the score with full expression during Salome’s delirious moments of joy, and then turned the sound absolutely chilly during moments of insanity. He was amazingly proficient.

And those “few egregious moments” yesterday?: As Herod's Jewish guests arrived in full white beards and tallitot, there were a few grumblings from the loggione, mine included. They were clearly arguing theology in an exaggerated debate, one even wielding a scrolled torah. Ok fine. whatevs. But what I don’t understand is this: at one point, there were a dozen Hassidim lined-up stage left, two rows deep, pressed against the wall, and praying/davening to mimic the Western Wall. F-wording F, what the hell was that all about?

The worst transgression? Later in action, when Salome demands the head of Jochanaan from Herodes, and he tries to placate her desire with the hidden jewels and riches of her mother, six of the Hassidum come out of the wings, acting in the background. They stand together, rending their hands in greedy desire, jostling each other, pointing insanely at the jewelry, and holding each other back from rushing to steal the tempting pile of jewels that Herodes slowly displays. lol greedy jews omg they want those emeralds so bad. I normally like Bondy, but in this production he came across as an a$$h0le, and I have no idea what would make anyone think different.

Nicely, the gore-factor wasn’t there either (OC isn’t a big fan), with Jochanaan’s head wrapped in a sparsely bloody white cloth. At the finale, Salome was squished to death by four riot gear cops with full-blown shields that crowded her. Like she stole a new dvd player in a riot or something and they caught her.

Oh noes. Opera Chic has just wandered into a wireless blindspo

Initial Report: March 6, 2007 La Scala Salome la prima

(OC is teh suck at using the new camera. Here is a blurry, over-exposed curtain call for your enjoyment! yay!)

I went to Salome at La Scala tonight because I constantly crave the brief flicker of warmth that only La Scala can provide me. heh. just playin.

I actually went because thanks to Harding (thou art that of questionable popularity & following), la prima wasn’t sold-out, and tickets were abundant. I also went because of rumors that the loggionisti would find Luc Bondy’s direction so dreadful, that hearty booing would possibly ensue during curtain call.

Well, apparently everyone was feeling civilized tonight, and the only disapproval heard was a smattering of jeers for Iris Vermillion's Herodias. Harding’s conducting was full of pathos, frantic and visceral, and completely adept, that he was treated to waves of apropos cheers. Nadja Michael's Salome was immense (more on her lithe dancing tomorrow), and she was appropriately commended. Falk Struckmann's Jochanaan was yummy.

Despite a few egregious moments (mostly concerning really horribly exaggerated stereotyping), it was a pretty banging night -- regardless of the fact that it had been rendered completely devoid of sexiness, and was overall pretty damn sterile.

...and btw, a kind reader sent OC a recording of the finale, which can be found via a YouSendIt link here.

Luc Bondy: "Salome = Paris Hilton" aka Losing Your Head For Paris

 

As Opera Chic was getting ready for her night at la Scala -- OMG
the Daniel Harding-conducted Salome premiere OMG!!! -- she opened her copy of la Repubblica and she went all like, dude wtf?????

Because (Former East) German soprano Nadja Michael tells the newspaper that director Luc Bondy -- responsible for many stark, elegant, minimalist opera stagings that Opera Chic really really liked -- instructed her so:

"Salome is not truly evil. She's a 16 year old girl: egotistical, too rich, too spoiled, always getting what she wants. Think of Paris Hilton: a woman who's almost beautiful (ed: zing!) who says I want this, I want that, without thinking of the consequences".

The Bondy goes on to pontificate -- frankly, quite weirdly -- about his ideas for the staging

"centered around the clash between the sacred and the earthly in a changing world, the religious disputes between Judeans and Nazarenes, whom I imagined as hippies form the 1960s, as pacifist flower children: it reminds me of the current clash between Shias and Sunnis in Iraq (ed: ?)".

The staging had its début in Salzburg, 1992, but since then the sets got damaged, so the ones we'll see at la Scala tonight are spanking (heh) new. Anyway, Opera Chic will be there, to report later.