Thursday, July 28, 2005
In transit
I'm not officially "away", but the headaches of moving (still within the city) are keeping me tied up for the moment. More soon.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
So, where's my free Mattila disc?
OK, not for me, but someone should really be sending Sarah a pre-release preview of every Yvonne Kenny recording.
Friday, July 08, 2005
Off topic
It turns out that the most interesting weight loss at the Met this season wasn't Deborah Voigt's but Veronika Part's. Voigt seems to have sacrificed -- at least for the moment -- her vocal sheen and deep power reserve, but the tall Part, who went from 'normal looking' on the Kirov's '02 tour to her current 'ballet thin,' has been liberated.
Mind you, I don't actually know anything about ballet. But to these eyes Part's become both a more athletic, more technically capable dancer -- her Odile now revels in her physicality -- and a remarkably communicative one. (There was, if I recall, something reserved about her stage persona in the past; that's gone.) If she'll never catch Vishneva in the former aspects of the art, I doubt I'll ever see as expressive and moving a performance from that Mariinsky star as the ones Part's giving us already.
In 2002 everyone was talking about how interesting Part's swan was; today, I think, it's something else. -- Not that I expect Voigt to turn into Karita Mattila or anything.
Mind you, I don't actually know anything about ballet. But to these eyes Part's become both a more athletic, more technically capable dancer -- her Odile now revels in her physicality -- and a remarkably communicative one. (There was, if I recall, something reserved about her stage persona in the past; that's gone.) If she'll never catch Vishneva in the former aspects of the art, I doubt I'll ever see as expressive and moving a performance from that Mariinsky star as the ones Part's giving us already.
In 2002 everyone was talking about how interesting Part's swan was; today, I think, it's something else. -- Not that I expect Voigt to turn into Karita Mattila or anything.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Six months of the Met, 2004-2005
I am linking this roundup of review posts in the sidebar for future reference.
Rodelinda
Don Carlo: piece and performance
Der Rosenkavalier
Samson et Dalila
The Magic Flute
Don Giovanni
Faust: production and performance
La Clemenza di Tito: performance and production
Cyrano de Bergerac: performance and the piece
Met Council Finals
Freni Gala
Rodelinda
Don Carlo: piece and performance
Der Rosenkavalier
Samson et Dalila
The Magic Flute
Don Giovanni
Faust: production and performance
La Clemenza di Tito: performance and production
Cyrano de Bergerac: performance and the piece
Met Council Finals
Freni Gala
Thursday, June 30, 2005
A glimpse of the future
Despite some hyperventilating on Opera-L, there's been little reaction to this interesting article in Tuesday's NYT. Extracts below as I can't find a permalink.
The model here is surely City Ballet's Nutcracker, a tradition -- and first exposure to ballet -- for countless kids of the tri-state area. At the moment, school groups attend dress rehearsals (after, apparently, much in-class study of the piece), but that probably can't establish the same sort of comfort and sentimental attachment that family ritual might.*
And as to the new media future,* * *
Incidentally, despite this blogger's concerns, the notion that we 'have to' do works uncut is quite a recent one. Indeed, despite Toscanini's pioneering efforts in this vein, last century's interwar Golden Age showcased some truly butchered performing editions. Not that this is exactly the same, but cuts have a long and sometimes distinguished history.
The Metropolitan Opera, as part of the labor agreement with its chorus and orchestra announced Monday, said it would stage a limited run of its new production of "The Magic Flute" reduced to about 90 minutes.Next season, the house will be dark for over two weeks in January, an innovation that began this year. Interestingly, the break will be interrupted by a broadcast of the Flute. Are holiday performances the season after that to shorten (and move into December) the break, or -- for those of us who care about full performances -- to extend it? If, as I suspect, it's the former, the innovation makes sense.
The short version [...] is a test of what could become a new way of attracting audiences, said Joseph Volpe, the opera house's general manager. The performances, to take place in the winter holidays of the 2006-7 season, will be aimed at both children and adults.
The shortened production is part of a broader focus on building audiences, an effort that the Met began only several years ago, Mr. Volpe said.
The model here is surely City Ballet's Nutcracker, a tradition -- and first exposure to ballet -- for countless kids of the tri-state area. At the moment, school groups attend dress rehearsals (after, apparently, much in-class study of the piece), but that probably can't establish the same sort of comfort and sentimental attachment that family ritual might.*
[* My parents took me to the Met at a very early age. I wonder how many of my readers had this experience?]
Peter Gelb, the record company executive who takes over as general manager at the end of next season, was more circumspect about the possibility of other abridged operas. He said he endorsed the condensed "Magic Flute" as a holiday production aimed at families but had no specific plans for other shortened operas.I'm sure there's a Kremlinological angle here somewhere... Gelb is at least deferring the notion that he'll be as gung-ho a popularizer as his crossover projects at Sony might have suggested.
And as to the new media future,
the parties put off deciding on how the musicians and chorus would be paid for broadcasts and potential recordings or Web-based streaming audio. The issue has become difficult as the market for recordings has dried up while new possibilities are being raised by the Internet.
Incidentally, despite this blogger's concerns, the notion that we 'have to' do works uncut is quite a recent one. Indeed, despite Toscanini's pioneering efforts in this vein, last century's interwar Golden Age showcased some truly butchered performing editions. Not that this is exactly the same, but cuts have a long and sometimes distinguished history.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Naumburg 2005
On Anne-Carolyn Bird's tip I attended the finals of this recital competition. Four singers each did a program of about 40 minutes.
The blogger -- Tom Meglioranza, who's been competition-blogging all month, starting with this hilarious anecdote about one of my favorite singers -- finished second, deservedly so. He has a sweet lyric baritone that worked well over a varied repertoire (which to my personal taste nevertheless had a bit too much of the cutesy).
The winner was soprano Sari Gruber, whom I last heard five years ago at Weill. This time I wasn't so impressed with her sometimes-strained-sounding vocal production, but her command of time and feeling was remarkable.
Tyler Duncan, whose rich baritone was the most impressive instrument of the evening, was third. (He was also the first man I've ever heard do Bolcom's "Amor" -- a bit jarring, even in the third person.) Soprano Amanda Forsythe got Honorable Mention. She seemed to have difficulties adjusting her voice to the resonance of near-empty Alice Tully Hall, but did show a fine feeling for French song.
The audience seemed to be an afterthought, with no programs (one of the judges did read each recitalist's name and program to the audience before he or she started) and everyone restricted to the loge and box sections far in the back. Still, an interesting evening. Thanks, Anne-Carolyn.
The blogger -- Tom Meglioranza, who's been competition-blogging all month, starting with this hilarious anecdote about one of my favorite singers -- finished second, deservedly so. He has a sweet lyric baritone that worked well over a varied repertoire (which to my personal taste nevertheless had a bit too much of the cutesy).
The winner was soprano Sari Gruber, whom I last heard five years ago at Weill. This time I wasn't so impressed with her sometimes-strained-sounding vocal production, but her command of time and feeling was remarkable.
Tyler Duncan, whose rich baritone was the most impressive instrument of the evening, was third. (He was also the first man I've ever heard do Bolcom's "Amor" -- a bit jarring, even in the third person.) Soprano Amanda Forsythe got Honorable Mention. She seemed to have difficulties adjusting her voice to the resonance of near-empty Alice Tully Hall, but did show a fine feeling for French song.
The audience seemed to be an afterthought, with no programs (one of the judges did read each recitalist's name and program to the audience before he or she started) and everyone restricted to the loge and box sections far in the back. Still, an interesting evening. Thanks, Anne-Carolyn.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
A recorded voice
Wondering about the effect of recording on music-making is interesting enough, but what is a recording? To a listener, anyway.
The recording itself, that physical object (if only patterns on one's hard drive) and one's property rights over it, is a commercial thing, foundation -- in other genres anyway -- of vast fortunes and all sorts of economic activity. But so, in the same way, is a ticket; one would have to go back a long time to find a commerce-free manifestation of art. The content, however, is another thing. Like any night at the Met (or in the dreadful heat of the Great Lawn), one's experience listening to an opera recording is that of a performance, with all the aspects mentioned in the early post here on taxonomy. Let's look at it that way.
(1) Opera on record gives a vastly different sensory experience than its live counterpart. Visuals, obviously. Even the best home imitation -- DVD (or some HD derivative) on a large HD monitor with surround sound -- is far from what one sees from any particular seat of an opera house. There are cuts, close-ups; the action's surrounded by living room decorations; and watching in the dark is rarely practical. With CD one's left with no visual at all; just the living room and perhaps a libretto or score. Or not even these, if one listens over headphones on the street or subway.
But sound, too is different. Even now, with high-end equipment and realistic miking, the recorded sound of a voice is not its live sound. And most producers seem not even to try for realism -- most prominently in Met broadcasts, where a very close miking (at the edge of the stage) inflates vibrato, squashes big voices, and assists little ones. (Not to mention what the dynamic compression of most radio stations does on top of it all.) It seems to me that even sonically, where the things are at their closest, a recording and a live hearing of one night at the opera should be evaluated as two different performances, with what might as well be two different singers (Fleming-disc and Fleming-theater, say).
More about the other aspects of performance, plus general thoughts, in another post.
The recording itself, that physical object (if only patterns on one's hard drive) and one's property rights over it, is a commercial thing, foundation -- in other genres anyway -- of vast fortunes and all sorts of economic activity. But so, in the same way, is a ticket; one would have to go back a long time to find a commerce-free manifestation of art. The content, however, is another thing. Like any night at the Met (or in the dreadful heat of the Great Lawn), one's experience listening to an opera recording is that of a performance, with all the aspects mentioned in the early post here on taxonomy. Let's look at it that way.
(1) Opera on record gives a vastly different sensory experience than its live counterpart. Visuals, obviously. Even the best home imitation -- DVD (or some HD derivative) on a large HD monitor with surround sound -- is far from what one sees from any particular seat of an opera house. There are cuts, close-ups; the action's surrounded by living room decorations; and watching in the dark is rarely practical. With CD one's left with no visual at all; just the living room and perhaps a libretto or score. Or not even these, if one listens over headphones on the street or subway.
But sound, too is different. Even now, with high-end equipment and realistic miking, the recorded sound of a voice is not its live sound. And most producers seem not even to try for realism -- most prominently in Met broadcasts, where a very close miking (at the edge of the stage) inflates vibrato, squashes big voices, and assists little ones. (Not to mention what the dynamic compression of most radio stations does on top of it all.) It seems to me that even sonically, where the things are at their closest, a recording and a live hearing of one night at the opera should be evaluated as two different performances, with what might as well be two different singers (Fleming-disc and Fleming-theater, say).
More about the other aspects of performance, plus general thoughts, in another post.
Speculation
What, if anything, might this mean?
The classical world needs to show somehow that all the great composers are kindred spirits.Boldface mine.
Thursday, June 02, 2005
Parochialities
After season's end: a slight readjustment, now that events are all going on elsewhere.
In South Carolina, for example, the Spoleto Festival is sufficiently large to have two well-updated blogs now covering it (via All About Opera)! That is the universal measure of significance, right?
Mind you, at least some of the coverage seems to be by an imported New Yorker.
UPDATE (6/3): "Elsewhere" apparently also includes Morristown, NJ.
In South Carolina, for example, the Spoleto Festival is sufficiently large to have two well-updated blogs now covering it (via All About Opera)! That is the universal measure of significance, right?
Mind you, at least some of the coverage seems to be by an imported New Yorker.
UPDATE (6/3): "Elsewhere" apparently also includes Morristown, NJ.
Recoloring
I have added two buttons on top of the right sidebar to toggle the blog's colors. I hope this helps. The toggle setting is saved via cookie; future pages should turn white automatically until un-toggled, though they'll load in black (not sure how to fix this).
Those who like the original white-on-black color scheme will see very little difference, though if this template change has broken anything on your browser (I've only tested Firefox) please tell me.
Oh, yes... more content? I'm working on that too.
UPDATE (6/3): Also added a shortcut icon to the site.
Those who like the original white-on-black color scheme will see very little difference, though if this template change has broken anything on your browser (I've only tested Firefox) please tell me.
Oh, yes... more content? I'm working on that too.
UPDATE (6/3): Also added a shortcut icon to the site.
Friday, May 27, 2005
Perhaps he can get a cellblock named after him?
Alberto Vilar arrested, jailed (via Opera-L).
What on earth...? At the time they took his name down I thought he was somewhat ill-treated by the Met and the press. But perhaps they knew something we didn't.
What on earth...? At the time they took his name down I thought he was somewhat ill-treated by the Met and the press. But perhaps they knew something we didn't.
Monday, May 23, 2005
Two roads
Edmond de Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac is a landmark work of popular culture. That its eponymous authority-defying pseudo-folk-hero has fought and wooed across countless silver screens is only fitting, as Rostand was a Hollywood forerunner. A cool -- for what is panache but a pre-jazz rendering of "cool"? -- outsider-hero, some violence, a melancholy love angle: it's classic Hollywood formula, whether via auteur or hack.
Insofar as Cyrano was Rostand's response to the crisis of his stage's realism, Franco Alfano's opera-house version came in a similar context. But while Cyrano-the-opera was part of a series of his works more-or-less repudiating verisimo, Alfano took an aesthetic road far from Rostand's. The music isn't flamboyant and popular, instead sharing sonic language with late Puccini (the quieter bits of Turandot), Debussy, and other not-quite-modernist composers of the interwar period. The score has many details of interest but no big tunes. Not bad, nor revelatory.
Yet as responsive as Alfano succeeds in being to each particular turn of the text, words and music are still fundamentally mismatched. The score -- for all its subtle virtues -- lacks panache, disappointing the Rostand fan, while the sub-Hollywood bathos at libretto's end strikes a note largely (and happily) absent from the operatic stage. For similar reasons, Plácido Domingo -- the closest thing to a walking institution in today's opera world -- is grossly miscast. Even if solidity didn't define his acting as much as it does his singing (though it does), it's quite impossible at this point in his career and ubiquity to see Domingo as any sort of swashbuckling pop hero. Roberto Alagna, I think, would've much better fit the role -- though, or perhaps because he couldn't possibly have gotten the Met to stage such a piece.
In some parallel Alex Ross-inspired world, popular formula in high-cultural clothing and modernism-lite (the two roads that diverged in a fin-de-siècle wood) could combine to sublime effect. But that world isn't one that intersects the Rostand-Alfano-Met-Domingo product we saw this month. This combination was sucessful in parts -- but, as a whole, a mistake.
Insofar as Cyrano was Rostand's response to the crisis of his stage's realism, Franco Alfano's opera-house version came in a similar context. But while Cyrano-the-opera was part of a series of his works more-or-less repudiating verisimo, Alfano took an aesthetic road far from Rostand's. The music isn't flamboyant and popular, instead sharing sonic language with late Puccini (the quieter bits of Turandot), Debussy, and other not-quite-modernist composers of the interwar period. The score has many details of interest but no big tunes. Not bad, nor revelatory.
Yet as responsive as Alfano succeeds in being to each particular turn of the text, words and music are still fundamentally mismatched. The score -- for all its subtle virtues -- lacks panache, disappointing the Rostand fan, while the sub-Hollywood bathos at libretto's end strikes a note largely (and happily) absent from the operatic stage. For similar reasons, Plácido Domingo -- the closest thing to a walking institution in today's opera world -- is grossly miscast. Even if solidity didn't define his acting as much as it does his singing (though it does), it's quite impossible at this point in his career and ubiquity to see Domingo as any sort of swashbuckling pop hero. Roberto Alagna, I think, would've much better fit the role -- though, or perhaps because he couldn't possibly have gotten the Met to stage such a piece.
In some parallel Alex Ross-inspired world, popular formula in high-cultural clothing and modernism-lite (the two roads that diverged in a fin-de-siècle wood) could combine to sublime effect. But that world isn't one that intersects the Rostand-Alfano-Met-Domingo product we saw this month. This combination was sucessful in parts -- but, as a whole, a mistake.
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
Cyrano
Placido Domingo is the worst conductor ever to lead a Met performance. He is general director of two American houses, with an acceptable if lackluster record. And he can no longer sing high notes: transpositions and rumors thereof follow him everywhere, including into this production.
That said, he still may be the most reliable, consistent, and pleasing-to-hear tenor active in the heavier repertory. Besides the high notes (which were always on-and-off for him), about the only thing different now from twenty or thirty years ago is that he tires more easily. Oh, yes, and he's outlasted all his then-brighter competitors of the time -- the sort of situation for which Bill James made his seminal distinction between peak value and career value.
He was in his typically good form for this Met premiere on Friday, transpositions or no. The not-yet-as-heralded Sondra Radvanovsky sounded as good as I've ever heard her, stopping the show with her third-act aria -- and getting people's notice. Both got huge ovations. The rest of the cast filled their parts well, as did the orchestra under Armiliato.
Meanwhile, Francesca Zambello's production is quite in line with the interview she gave to the Met patrons' newsletter earlier this spring. As it doesn't seem to be online, I'll quote the key bit here:
* * *
That's half the story of the new Met Cyrano. The rest is another post.
UPDATE (5/23): Added link to the other Cyrano post.
That said, he still may be the most reliable, consistent, and pleasing-to-hear tenor active in the heavier repertory. Besides the high notes (which were always on-and-off for him), about the only thing different now from twenty or thirty years ago is that he tires more easily. Oh, yes, and he's outlasted all his then-brighter competitors of the time -- the sort of situation for which Bill James made his seminal distinction between peak value and career value.
He was in his typically good form for this Met premiere on Friday, transpositions or no. The not-yet-as-heralded Sondra Radvanovsky sounded as good as I've ever heard her, stopping the show with her third-act aria -- and getting people's notice. Both got huge ovations. The rest of the cast filled their parts well, as did the orchestra under Armiliato.
Meanwhile, Francesca Zambello's production is quite in line with the interview she gave to the Met patrons' newsletter earlier this spring. As it doesn't seem to be online, I'll quote the key bit here:
I have had a change of heart in the last decade and have evolved into a strong populist and narrative-driven storyteller, no matter what the work. My goal is to present something engaging, enlightening, and entertaining for the artists involved and for the public.Seriously? No more stupid production conceits? It does seem like it. This staging of Cyrano is detailed, more-or-less realistic, and quite successful apart from Roxane's unfortunately large wig.
That's half the story of the new Met Cyrano. The rest is another post.
UPDATE (5/23): Added link to the other Cyrano post.
Rethemed blogroll
Funny thing is, I don't really even like Auden.
I do, however, like the two singers' blogs I've added: Seattle's Anne-Carolyn Bird at The Concert and Londoner Geraldine McGreevy at High Notes.
And have I still never mentioned most charming Bay-area oboist Patricia Mitchell (she reads Artsjournal so I don't have to!) at oboeinsight? That seems the least I can do before reshuffling her blog to a different category.
Actually, I've no idea what any of the above sound like. Not sure what I'd do when and if I found out, either.
UPDATE (5/18): I'm working on a solution to this. Other (would-be) readers have complained before. My knowledge of javascript, DHTML, and cookies is hilariously limited, though, and debugging is taking a while.
UPDATE (5/19): Huh. I accidentally changed it back somehow. Fixed now.
I do, however, like the two singers' blogs I've added: Seattle's Anne-Carolyn Bird at The Concert and Londoner Geraldine McGreevy at High Notes.
And have I still never mentioned most charming Bay-area oboist Patricia Mitchell (she reads Artsjournal so I don't have to!) at oboeinsight? That seems the least I can do before reshuffling her blog to a different category.
Actually, I've no idea what any of the above sound like. Not sure what I'd do when and if I found out, either.
UPDATE (5/18): I'm working on a solution to this. Other (would-be) readers have complained before. My knowledge of javascript, DHTML, and cookies is hilariously limited, though, and debugging is taking a while.
UPDATE (5/19): Huh. I accidentally changed it back somehow. Fixed now.
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