Opera 101—The Gondoliers

Oh, 'tis a glorious thing, I ween,

To be a regular Royal Queen!

No half-and-half affair, I mean,

No half-and-half affair,

But a right-down regular,

Regular, regular,

Regular Royal Queen!

—“Then one of us will be a Queen,” The Gondoliers

Oh, philosophers may sing

Of the troubles of a King,

But of pleasures there are many and of worries there are none;

And the culminating pleasure

That we treasure beyond measure

Is the gratifying feeling that our duty has been done!

—“Rising early in the morning,” The Gondoliers

I feel a little bit like a broken record saying it, but last night I saw another marvelous production by the Lamplighters. This time, they added the brilliant touch of reading the opening announcements in Italian (except for key phrases such as “cell phone” and “emergency exit”).

The cast of The Gondoliers. Photo by Beau Saunders.

The Gondoliers (or The King of Barataria) was one of Gilbert and Sullivan’s final Savoy Operas and their last real success. Although the subject and songs are light and the plot involves the typical topsy-turvy element of babies switched at birth, somehow I find it to be one of the most realistic of Gilbert and Sullivan operas.

The first act takes place in Venice, where two gondoliers are about to pick their brides from a group of young maidens. As they are getting married, the Duke of Plaza-Toro (Count Matadoro, Baron Picadoro) arrives from Spain with his wife and daughter Casilda to seek out the long-lost son of the King of Barataria, whom his daughter married as an infant. Hidden in Venice due to insurrection in his home country, the future (now) king was raised along with the son of a gondolier, but the Grand Inquisitor who arranged the escape doesn’t know which is which. It is decided that both men should rule Barataria* until the nurse who can identify them is found. This is not very pleasing to their new brides who must stay behind, but it is a relief to Casilda, who is in love with her father’s attendant, Luiz. The second act takes place in Barataria where the gondoliers decide to rule according to their republican values and “all shall equal be.”

Speaking of equals, one of the enjoyable things about The Gondoliers is that there are many large parts rather than the standard three or four leads backed up by the chorus. There is no true patter song, but a number of patter-like songs that leave you humming. In fact, The Gondoliers has the longest vocal score of any Savoy Opera. I particularly enjoyed the songs quoted above, as well as “In the Enterprise of Martial Kind” and “I Stole the Prince.”

Once again I felt the singing was strong overall, but Robert Vann as Marco stood out for me. I was also happy to see Amy Foote, who made a superb Elsie in The Yeomen of the Guard last year, return as Marco’s wife, Gianetta. Elise Marie Kennedy certainly held her own in her Lamplighters debut as Casilda and I thoroughly enjoyed John Brown as her father, the Duke of Plaza-Toro.

John Brown as the Duke of Plaza-Toro.
Photo by Beau Saunders.

Last night, I was particularly struck by how old the audience is for these shows. These performances are always such fun and of such good quality, it's really a shame that the audience is not more diverse. If you can, try to catch one of the remaining performances tonight at 8pm and tomorrow at 2pm at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco, or next weekend in Walnut Creek.

Note: The Gondoliers is the Lamplighters’ second production of the 2011-2012 season. They will close out the season with a singalong Pirates of Penzance in March.

*You may recognize the name Barataria as the fictional insula that Sancho Panza is granted in Don Quixote, which I’m sure is completely intentional on Gilbert’s part.

Sly Wit 2012

Happy New Year!

As always, I welcome the New Year with open arms and lots of plans and projects.

Barring any 2012 doomsday scenarios coming to fruition, here’s what you can expect to see at Sly Wit this year.

Books:

Clearly you all have opinions on these and I will be posting what I think of your favorites throughout the year as part of the 2012 Readers’ Choice Challenge. Encouragement as I tackle some of the longer ones is always appreciated!

I will also be trying to keep the book salon alive as many members move on to bigger and better things following the near dissolution of my former office by The Man. Appropriately enough, this month’s theme is “Go West, Young Man!” for which I chose to read The Grapes of Wrath.

Performing Arts:

Ballet 101 posts will probably dominate the spring as I enjoy a subscription to the San Francisco Ballet for the first time. Sadly, I don’t foresee the ballet of the Opéra de Paris in my future this year, but you never know what the fates may bring.

Opera won’t be completely absent, as I have tickets to The Lamplighters’ upcoming productions of The Gondoliers and The Pirates of Penzance singalong as well as Nixon in China at the San Francisco Opera in June. I’m also hoping to see Ensemble Parallèle’s The Great Gatsby in February.

Of course, assuming La Maratonista is willing, I’m planning to renew my subscription for the San Francisco Opera’s 2012-2013 season. To combat my opera withdrawal symptoms, I’ve been listening to a number of classic recordings and, before our next subscription starts, I’m hoping to write up some more systematic Opera 101 posts that go through the history of this art form, starting with the Baroque era and continuing to the present day.

Television and Film:

I’m still debating giving up cable, but I have to wait until at least the end of January since there is no way I am missing Season Two of Downtown Abbey on PBS. And, of course, The Voice will be starting up again soon. But there’s not much else I’m excited about going forward besides Season Two of Sherlock, which can’t come soon enough.

Aside from the Oscars, I don’t often talk about film here. (That in and of itself might not seem odd, unless you know that my training is as a historian of French culture with a specialization in the film industry and my doctoral dissertation was on the reception of American films in postwar France.) I’m hoping to rectify that with a new Film 101 series looking at various genres I want to explore again without having to view them through an academic lens. Right now, I’m thinking of three of my favorites: film noir, screwball comedies, and westerns; however, inspired by David Smay’s series at HiLobrow, I may also take on horror, a genre I don’t know at all.

But before I begin that project, I will spend the month of January rewatching my favorite director of all time, a man who incorporated all those genres into his work (okay, maybe not westerns), Alfred Hitchcock. A colleague recently asked for recommendations of his films and, having lately read John Buchan’s The 39 Steps and Josephine Tey’s A Shilling for Candles (which became Young and Innocent), I decided he was due for a serious review.

I hope you join me for these and other random musings!

Opera 101—Figaro qua, Figaro là

“Sans la liberté de blâmer, il n’est point d’éloge flatteur.”

(Without the freedom to criticize, there is no true praise.)
—Le Mariage de Figaro by Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais

Once again, another San Francisco Opera season has concluded and a final assessment is in order. This year, I’ve expanded my short list of awards into a full-fledged post and, as befitting such a monumental event, I’ve decided these awards need a name. After all, all the good awards have one: Oscars, Emmys, Tonys,…

So, I present herewith the Figaros, named in honor of one of the most beloved characters in all opera, who is also responsible for the quotation above, spoken to Count Almaviva in one of the longest monologues in the history of French theater. Remember, I kid because I (tough) love.

2011 Figaro Awards

Production I would most readily see again: Serse

Heidi Stober as Atalanta, David Daniels as Arsamenes, and Lisette Oropesa as Romilda in Serse. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Favorite scene: “Batti, batti, o bel Masetto” from Don Giovanni

Outstanding performance (male): David Daniels as Arsamenes in Serse (runner-up: Michael Fabiano as Gennaro in Lucrezia Borgia)

Outstanding performance (female): Leah Crocetto as Liù in Turandot (runners-up: Kate Lindsey as Zerlina in Don Giovanni and Heidi Stober as Atalanta in Serse)

Outstanding performance (trouser): Susan Graham as Xerxes in Serse

Outstanding performance (cross-dressing): Michael Sumuel as Elviro as a flower seller in Serse

Michael Sumuel as Elviro with Heidi Stober as Atalanta in Serse.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Outstanding performance (orchestra): the recitative accompaniment in Don Giovanni with Nicola Luisotti on fortepiano, Bryndon Hassman on harpsichord, and Thalia Moore on cello

Adler Fellow of the season: Ryan Kuster

Best set design: Jean-Pierre Ponnelle for Carmen

Jean-Pierre Ponnelle’s set for Lillas Pastia’s tavern in Carmen.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Best costumes: Andrea Viotti for Don Giovanni

Morris Robinson as the Commendatore with costume by Andrea Viotti.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Most shocking (and yet welcome) death scene: Renée Fleming in Lucrezia Borgia

Most disruptive audience moment: the whispers as people recognized the tune of “Nessun dorma” in Turandot

Most awkward attempt at homoeroticism: Orsini and Gennaro in Lucrezia Borgia

Least successful attempt at rhythmic gymnastics: the acrobats in Turandot

Most in need of a clown car: Ping, Pang, Pong in Turandot

Ping, Pang, Pong in their ridiculous costumes in Turandot.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Best imitation of Gandalf the Grey: Raymond Aceto as Timor in Turandot

Best imitation of Violet Beauregard (post-blueberrification): the chorus in Turandot

Best imitation of a Nazi: Wayne Tigges as Lieutenant Zuniga in Carmen

Best imitation of a 1980s love-child of Billy Idol and Christophe Lambert: Michael Fabiano as Gennaro in Lucrezia Borgia

Renée Fleming and Michael Fabiano in Lucrezia Borgia.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Monty Python award for most outrageous French accent: Anita Rachvelishvili in Carmen

Joyce Kilmer award for best aria sung to a tree: “Ombra mai fu” in Serse

Foreigner “Cold as Ice” award (tie): Lucrezia Borgia in Lucrezia Borgia and Turandot in Turandot

Foreigner “Hot-Blooded” award (tie): Don Giovanni in Don Giovanni and Carmen in Carmen

For my individual write-ups of these operas, see That Girl Is Poison, No Sleep Till…, Inglourious Basterd, Love Stinks, and Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves. I look forward to next season when, according to OperaTattler, I’ll have to sit through Wagner!

Opera 101—Gypsies, Tramps, and Thieves

Carmen, by Georges Bizet, is one of the most-performed operas out there, and its tunes pop up in myriad cultural forums, from The Bad News Bears to Sesame Street to The Muppet Show. Many people can probably hum either “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle” (aka the Habanera) or “Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre” (aka the Toreador Song) without even realizing the source. My personal favorite of these iterations is Gilligan’s Island, where Gilligan performs “To Be or Not To Be” to the Habanera and Skipper as Polonius sings “Neither a Borrower Nor a Lender Be” to the “Toreador Song.” My childhood, let me show it to you.

As for the opera itself, my live viewing had been limited to what I not-so-lovingly refer to as “The Disco Carmen” at the Opéra Comique in Paris. Not that the performance itself was so bad, but the set was god-awful—basically a huge tilted ramp taking up half the stage with a disco ball above it. That's it. I had taken my elderly aunt out for a night on the town so I had been hoping for something really spectacular. How do you do that to Carmen, which provides such great opportunities for sets and costumes?

In any case, I was really hoping that this performance would drive that one out of my mind. Which it mostly did. Visually, at least. I thought the sets were very well done, perhaps my favorites of the season. Keeping the main outer building shell, the transitions to the smaller set pieces of the cigarette factory, tavern, smugglers’ cave, and the bullfighting arena were smooth and believable. The costumes were also impressive, as they were varied, but relatively restrained. I imagine it is easy to go overboard with something like Carmen and this production didn’t (Turandot, I’m looking at you).

Lillas Pastia's tavern. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Outside the bullfighting arena. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Unfortunately, aurally, this production left much to be desired. While Anita Rachvelishvili as Carmen had a lovely, rich tone to her voice, I really couldn’t get over her atrocious French pronunciation and appreciate her singing. I was sort of surprised at this since, although she was filling in relatively last-minute for Kate Aldrich, she seems to have played this role plenty of times. Not that the rest of the main cast was much better, both Sara Gartland, who played Micaëla, and Wayne Tiggis, who played Lieutenant Zuniga, could have used more coaching in this area.

Perhaps I’m being overly critical, but, while I accept that I’m not going to catch all the words in Italian productions, somehow I feel I should be able to follow an opera in French without resorting to subtitles or the libretto. It wasn’t until the smugglers came in that I realized “it’s not me, it’s you,” and so I want to make particular mention of Timothy Mix and Daniel Montenegro for taking such care in their roles as Le Dancaïre and Le Remendado. Also, the children’s chorus was spot on in their French pronunciation and did a great job overall. Finally, thank you to San Francisco Opera for engaging Gabriel Laude as the young guide. It was a relief to have such a long speech spoken with native accuracy.

Thiago Arancam as Don José. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Again, this is not to say that the singing itself was bad. I thought that Thiago Arancam, who held his own last year against the terrific Ainhoa Arteta and Plácido Domingo in Cyrano de Bergerac, made an excellent Don José (who let’s face it, actually carries this opera, which is really all about Don José’s journey, not Carmen’s). Sara Gartland also made the significantly less vibrant Micaëla come alive, especially in her final aria. Susannah Biller as Frasquita and Cybele Gouverneur as Mercédès made the most of their small parts and I thoroughly enjoyed their “Mêlons! Coupons” fortune-telling number with Carmen. Vocally, Paulo Szot didn’t quite live up to the power of the Toreador Song, but he had great stage presence as the matador who steals Carmen’s heart.

Paulo Szot as Escamillo. Photo by Cory Weaver.

All in all, I enjoyed this production for what it was, but I partly wish I had had the foresight of Opera Tattler to switch out my Carmen subscription tickets for Xerxes.

Carmen has two more performances with Anita Rachvelishvili on November 20th and 23rd, and with Kendall Gladen on November 26th and 29th and December 2nd and 4th.

Opera 101—Love Stinks

“You love her… But she loves him… And he loves somebody else… You just can’t win”

Part of the complicated love pentagon of Serse: Heidi Stober as Atalanta, David
Daniels as Arsamenes, and Lisette Oropesa as Romilda. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Even though it wasn't part of my annual subscription, I had heard such good things about Serse (Xerxes) that I jumped at a last-minute sale to take a seat in the balcony. I’m very happy with my subscription seats, but I must say that the balcony with Operavision was more than acceptable, although I’m glad I still brought my opera glasses. The only thing missing was La Maratonista, who was on her way back from Costa Rica at the time I took the plunge.

Of course, I don’t know if I could have convinced her to see a semi-obscure Baroque opera, especially one that clocks in at 3 hours and 40 minutes. Sure, she’s a triathlete, but a girl has limits. Although, reading that, she is probably laughing heartily as I’m the one that categorically refuses to see movies that run over 2½ hours. While I’m willing to extend that time limit somewhat for opera, I still prefer not to go over the three-hour mark. Suffice it say, neither of us will be committing to the Ring Cycle any time soon.

In any case, Serse is well worth the commitment. An opera seria by George Frideric Handel, first performed in London in 1738, this production is a revival of the one originally directed by Nicholas Hytner for the English National Opera in 1985 for the 300th anniversary of Handel’s birth. Back in 1985, it was sung in English, but here it is in the original Italian. Although an opera seria, the work is actually one of Handel’s rare comedies and this production emphasized the comedic elements throughout.

The story starts off with an opening aria sung to a plane tree* and only gets more bizarre and confusing from there. A bridge to Europe is also involved at one point. And the twists and turns of the love subplots are harder to keep track of than the suitcases in What’s Up, Doc? In brief, Xerxes loves Romilda, but she is in love with his brother, Arsamenes. At the same time, Romilda’s sister, Atalanta, also loves Arsamenes, and both lovelorn siblings plot to keep the two lovers apart. Meanwhile, Xerxes’ foreign fiancée, Amastris, arrives on the scene disguised as a man. Does it help that over half the cast have names that begin with A? No, it does not.

David Daniels as Arsamenes and Susan Graham as Xerxes.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

The various vocal assignments don’t help matters either. Since the Baroque era was the age of the castrati, the lead role of Xerxes, King of Persia, was written for a male soprano castrato, but is here sung by a mezzo-soprano, Susan Graham. Oddly enough, in Handel’s time, the role of Xerxes’ brother, Arsamenes, was usually played by a mezzo-soprano, but is here played by a male countertenor, David Daniels. As you can see in the above photo, Daniels is quite the manly man in looks, so it was odd to hear such a high voice come out of his mouth. The gender bending continued with the arrival of contralto Amastris in male garb, and even the servant Elviro at one point dresses up as a flower seller.

Sonia Prina as Amastris. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Michael Sumuel as Elviro with Heidi Stober as Atalanta.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Really, the whole opera was vaguely reminiscent of an Oscar Wilde comedy of manners, which was only enhanced by the change of setting from ancient Persia to Vauxhall Gardens. And the music was gorgeous. How could I not love this?

Best thing I’ve seen all season.

Serse has just two more performances at the War Memorial Opera House on Wednesday, November 16, and Saturday, November 19. Catch it if you can.

*In a strange coincidence, this opening aria, “Ombra mai fu,” is featured in the second series of BBC’s The Choir, which I’ve been rewatching via On Demand this week, and which I can’t recommend enough.

Opera 101—Inglourious Basterd

As a short respite from what was quickly turning out to be the season of the bitch, last night La Maratonista and I saw Mozart’s Don Giovanni. I wasn’t quite sure what to expect since the plot of this opera basically revolves around a serial rapist, but, when the villain gets his just due by being dragged down to Hell at the end of the story, I guess one can’t really say that the author is condoning his behavior. In the end, it was far less squirm-inducing than something like Madama Butterfly. And it may turn out to be my favorite opera so far, despite the subject matter and the setting.

Like so many operas, including next month’s Carmen as well as Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia, Beethoven’s Fidelio, Verdi’s La forza del destino, and Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro, Don Giovanni is set in Seville. I’m not quite sure why Seville held such fascination for the mostly French authors that these works are based on, but there you go. Yes, it’s beautiful, but, since Seville is the city that began my love-hate (okay, now mostly hate) relationship with Spain, a country I have visited many times, this constant intrusion into my opera-going is unfortunate.

Looking out over the city of Seville, Spain

For me, (cue dramatic music) Seville will always be a city of betrayal. It’s the city where I met him who some know as Ascot Man—on a weekend that began innocently enough with me flying down from Paris to attend a wedding in the cathedral, and somehow ended a week later with me on the red carpet at the Goya awards in Madrid. Oddly enough, the bastard in this particular passion play was neither Ascot Man, nor the future congressman I was initially traveling with, but rather the groom (and former housemate), who turned out to be one of the lyingest liars I have ever met.

So, perhaps it’s quite appropriate that Don Giovanni is set there after all.

Lucas Meachem as Don Giovanni, the bragger of Seville
Photo by Cory Weaver.

The action of the opera begins with the attempted rape of Donna Anna. She escapes, and her father, coming to her defense, is killed by Don Giovanni, who then flees before his identity can be discovered. Naturally, because it’s opera, Anna and her fiancé, Don Ottavio, swear revenge in a beautiful duet. Meanwhile, Donna Elvira, who Giovanni had jilted some time before, arrives in Seville seeking her former lover.

To give you an idea of Elvira’s tenacity, we learn she has come all the way from Burgos, in northern Spain. (Incidentally, my one and only visit to Burgos was on a weekend away with Ascot Man. On our way to the northern coast from Madrid, we stopped to visit a friend of his who was restoring his family’s castle—or monastery, or some other kind of once-glorious medieval ruin—outside of Burgos. I’m not really sure, because I’ve tried to block most of that trip from my mind. Although I’m very certain ascots were worn.)

But I digress. Suffice it to say that Burgos is a long way from Seville and Elvira is very determined to get her man back.

As usual, Giovanni talks his way out of the situation and leaves his servant Leporello to explain his master’s true character in the hilarious “Madamina, il catalogo è questo,” tallying up his master’s conquests.

Marco Vinco as Leporello, with Don Giovanni's not-so-little black book
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Ryan Kuster and Kate Lindsey as Masetto and Zerlina
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Later, Giovanni and Leporello come upon the wedding festivities of Masetto and Zerlina, whom he immediately tries to seduce, until Elvira interrupts. In the midst of this, Anna and Ottavio arrive to ask Giovanni for help in capturing her father’s murderer. Watching Giovanni in action, Anna realizes the truth, and again calls for vengeance on her father’s killer. Ottavio, for whom the sun rises and sets on Anna, will do anything for her. (As a point of contrast, Ascot Man once claimed that, although he would willingly sacrifice his life for me—in some hypothetical instance where this might be needed—he would never ever do dishes. Apparently, in this future life of leisure, I wouldn’t have to do them either, but somehow this wasn’t really the selling point he thought it was.)

Anyway, Ottavio (who I’m pretty sure would do the dishes if Anna asked him to nicely), along with a disguised Anna and Elvira, crashes the party that Don Giovanni is throwing to woo Zerlina away from the jealous Masetto. When Zerlina cries out from an adjoining room, the three guests unmask themselves and declare that Giovanni must pay for his crimes. However, Giovanni once again escapes his accusers and, after a long series of digressions involving Leporello disguised as his master, ends up in a cemetery, sitting below the grave and statue of Anna’s father.

Here the opera takes a turn to the supernatural, as the statue seems to come alive and solemnly intones to Giovanni “Di rider finirai pria dell’aurora” (Your laughter will end before dawn). While a terrified Leporello looks on in horror, Giovanni insists on inviting the statue to dinner.

Note: While I mostly wasn’t impressed with the sets of this production (I really didn’t get the mirrors at all; they weren’t used and therefore seemed rather pointless), the cemetery looked great. The woman next to me was notably excited when she finally realized that one of the “statues” was in fact a real person.

The graveyard set. Photo by Cory Weaver.

The opera concludes with Giovanni eating a lavish dinner while being serenaded by musicians playing opera tunes, including a sly nod to “Non più andrai” from Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro. When the ghost of Anna’s father finally arrives, he offers Giovanni a last chance to repent, but Giovanni will have none of it and he’s dragged down to Hell. This final death scene was well acted on Lucas Meachem’s part, but the smoke was rather uneven and looked a bit awkward from our vantage point in Dress Circle.

Don Giovanni's last supper. Photo by Cory Weaver.

All in all, I really enjoyed this opera more than I thought I would, especially after the tepid critical reception it has gotten. Granted, if I had already seen Don Giovanni many times, I suppose I might be more critical. I wasn’t very impressed with the set, which I had really been looking forward to after seeing the initial press photos. However, I loved Andrea Viotti’s costumes. How could I not when they were mostly pinks and purples?

Ellie Dehn as Donna Anna in her beautiful lavender gown.
Photo by Cory Weaver

And the opera itself is truly a masterwork with gorgeous music throughout and some really beautiful arias. I loved the bit with what I now know was the conductor, Nicola Luisotti, playing fortepiano.

I thought the women outsang the men, especially early on. This was a bit unusual, as I normally think the sopranos are the ones that get drowned out by the orchestra in the War Memorial Opera House. Kate Lindsey (Zerlina), in her San Francisco debut, stood out for me, not only with her vocals, but also her acting and movement, particularly during her “Batti, batti, o bel Masetto” number. I also thought Ellie Dehn (Donna Anna) was very strong, which is odd given that I remember being underwhelmed with her Countess Almaviva last year. Serena Farnocchia (Donna Elvira), also in her San Francisco debut, was fine vocally, but had an odd way of leaning during many of her numbers which was rather disconcerting. I kept wanting to straighten her out.

Mostly, I was excited to see that in an opera about such a dastardly man, the women did such a great job. Not that Lucas Meachem as Don Giovanni and Marco Vinco as Leporello didn’t, but I was worried in the beginning when I could barely hear the lovely “Notte e giorno faticar.” Luckily, this seemed to be less of a problem as the opera went on, since I think that Vinco has a nice tone and is a great actor. It was also thrilling to see Adler Fellow Ryan Kuster, who I had noticed in his tiny Turandot role earlier this month, step up to the plate for the role of Masetto. And the voice of Morris Robinson was pitch perfect as the otherwordly Commendatore statue.

The biggest downside for me was that this opera is rather long, and the heat in the balconies, while not quite fires of Hell level, did not help my endurance. But it was fun to go out from seeing a ghost in the opera house to the streets of San Francisco filled with costumed Halloween revelers.

Don Giovanni has three more performances at the War Memorial Opera House: November 2, 5, and 10.

Opera 101—No Sleep Till…

Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!

Tu pure, o, Principessa, nella tua fredda stanza,

guardi le stelle che tremano d’amore e di speranza.

Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,

il nome mio nessun saprà!

No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò quando la luce splenderà!

Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio che ti fa mia!

(Il nome suo nessun saprà!... e noi dovrem, ahime, morir!)

Dilegua, o notte! Tramontate, stelle! Tramontate, stelle!

All’alba vincerò! Vincerò! Vincerò!

SFO Program Cover (original Turandot artwork)

Turandot, by Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924), is best known for “Nessun Dorma” (“No One Shall Sleep”), one of the most famous tenor arias in the history of opera, achieving pop status after its performance by Luciano Pavarotti at the opening of the 1990 FIFA World Cup in Italy and then again in 2007 when future YouTube sensation Paul Potts sang it for his Britain’s Got Talent audition. Therefore, although the opera is less commonly performed than Puccini’s other masterworks (La Bohème, Tosca, and Madama Butterfly), this one part is extremely well known. So much so that, on Tuesday night, you could hear whispers throughout the hall as people recognized the opening notes. Unfortunately, confirming what I read when this production was first reviewed, Marco Berti, the tenor who played Calaf, cuts off that last glorious note—I don’t know why, because he otherwise sang quite beautifully and seemed to have the requisite power to really nail it.

Photo by Cory Weaver.

However, while that one bit was therefore somewhat disappointing, one of the things I really like about this opera is that it is fairly balanced and provides many moments for the cast to shine, with a key aria sung by a different character in each act. Even the chorus, which plays a larger role here than in most operas I’ve seen, has a number of standout moments, particularly when they egg on the executioner in Act I.

Because, unlike Puccini other successes, which are very much grounded in a modern reality, Turandot is pure, dark fairy tale. Princess Turandot, influenced by the sufferings of a royal ancestor, has turned against all men and is determined that no one shall ever possess her. Any prince seeking to marry her must first answer three riddles; if he fails, he is executed. Upon viewing the princess, Calaf instantly falls for her and strikes the fatal gong announcing his candidacy.

Bang a gong. Get it on. Calaf with Ping, Pang, Pong.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Naturally, he answers all three riddles (“What is born each night and dies each dawn?” “Hope.” “What flickers red and warm like a flame, yet is not fire?” “Blood.” “What is like ice but burns?” “Turandot!”). But, despite this success, the princess begs her father not to honor the challenge. Calaf, hoping to win her love, offers Turandot a challenge of his own: if she can learn his name by dawn, he will forfeit his life. And that brings us back to “Nessun Dorma.”

Although Berti delivered a fine Calaf, and Iréne Theorin a Turandot who convincingly moves from ice queen to vulnerable lover, it’s safe to say that Adler Fellow Leah Crocetto stole the show as Liù, the servant girl who makes the ultimate sacrifice out of her love for Calaf. Her “Signore, ascolta!” in Act I earned one of the few moments of spontaneous applause of the night. Of course, this didn’t help the often-pointed-out flaw in this opera, which is that Turandot is not a particularly sympathetic heroine and that it’s hard not to root for Liù. However, Theorin’s strong performance in the third act, along with her excellent costumes, which helped convey her difficult transition, mostly allowed the opera to recover from this plot handicap.

Adler Fellow Leah Crocetto killing it as Liù.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

Sadly, I didn’t love most of the costumes as much as Turandot’s. Some of them looked quite dated and cheap (Ping, Pang, Pong, I’m looking at you), others just seemed ridiculous. Timur looked like Gandalf in a bad production of Lord of the Rings and the chorus at the end resembled Violet Beauregard (post-blueberrification) in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. That was a shame because the chorus looked great in the first act.

Gandalf? Dumbledore? Why no, it's Timur, the deposed Tartar king!
Photo by Cory Weaver.

I plan to keep my eye on Adler Fellow Ryan Kuster, here in his SFO debut.
Photo by Cory Weaver.

 But, really, these are minor quibbles, I thoroughly enjoyed this production.

Opera 101—That Girl Is Poison

“Miss her… kiss her… love her… wrong move you’re dead”

This week I saw my first opera of the season, Lucrezia Borgia, a lesser-known work by bel canto master Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848). Donizetti was incredibly prolific, composing seventy operas, including Lucia di Lammermoor and L’Elisir d’amore, which both aired on KQED earlier this month.

A Glass of Wine with Caesar Borgia by John Collier

The plot of the opera is fairly simple, revolving around the historical personage of Lucrezia Borgia, she of the powerful Renaissance clan, written about most famously in Machiavelli’s Il Principe. Although historical evidence is scant, rumors surround this notorious woman, including allegations of incest, poisoning, and murder. In the opera, the climactic scene involves a mass poisoning of rivals accused of insulting her family name. Although very different stylistically, I found myself reminded of Cheek by Jowl’s excellent Duchess of Malfi at the Brooklyn Academy of Music in the mid-1990s.

Renée Fleming in Lucrezia Borgia. Photo by Karin Cooper.

Like Cyrano de Bergerac for Plácido Domingo last year, more than anything, Lucrezia Borgia is a vehicle piece for Renée Fleming. That said, I enjoyed the opera itself far more than I expected. There were a number of pleasant duets and trios and the main cast was quite strong. Although Fleming was suitably impressive, I was more struck by the tenor, Michael Fabiano, as Borgia’s long-lost illegitimate son Gennaro, and the bass, Vitalij Kowaljow, as Borgia’s husband, Don Alfonso, Duke of Ferrara. I was not entirely convinced by the trouser role* of Orsini, Gennaro’s close friend, especially the directorial choice of emphasizing the homoerotic nature of the Gennaro-Orsini relationship, which becomes muddled when the male role of Orsini is sung by a woman.

The set reflected the simplicity of the storyline and worked quite well. The costumes, especially for the early scenes, could have been more vibrant, although they worked fine with the somber nature of the story. However, Gennaro’s outfits were hideous and made him look like some sort of second-rate Christophe Lambert in an early 80s French space adventure. In the final scenes, his costume was particularly distracting and just didn’t seem to go with the rest of the production. There was also one odd moment when a nameless woman was thrown into a prison pit with no real explanation whatsoever.

Renée Fleming and Michael Fabiano. Photo by Cory Weaver.

But, overall, it was a great start to the season, if not the mega-watt star turn that I was anticipating going into the evening. I would definitely recommend checking it out if you can.

Lucrezia Borgia is playing through October 11 at the War Memorial Opera House.

[On a side note, we decided to splurge on dinner at Jardinière beforehand. It actually turned out to be less of a splurge than we thought as Monday nights offer an incredible three-course tasting menu, including wine pairings, all for $45. Every Monday menu has a different theme, with this week’s being the celebration of Chez Panisse’s fortieth anniversary. I particularly enjoyed the starter of grilled Mediterranean octopus, although I was also very pleased to see my favorite dessert, clafoutis, on the menu.]

*In 17th- and 18th-century Italian opera, boys and young men were often played by castrati. Today, these roles are usually played by mezzo-sopranos dressed as men.

Opera 101—The Opera Strikes Back*

In honor of the San Francisco Opera’s gala opening tonight, I thought I should present a quick preview of my own fall season. This is my second season exploring the world of opera after years of restricting myself to symphony and ballet subscriptions, so I’m still learning about this incredible art form (hence the “Opera 101” in the titles of these posts).

Last year, La Maratonista and I saw The Marriage of Figaro, Aida, Cyrano de Bergerac, and Madama Butterfly. This year, we are again mostly sticking with the popular classics (Turandot, Don Giovanni, Carmen), although our subscription also includes tickets for one star turn (Renée Fleming in Lucrezia Borgia) as well as Nixon in China in the summer season. I would have loved to include The Magic Flute instead, but, unfortunately, this season’s production is in English—I’m no fan of German, but that’s just wrong like a wrong thing.

 Renée Fleming in Lucrezia Borgia. Photo by Karin Cooper.

I’m really looking forward to all of our selections, although, trolling the opera website for photos, I especially loved the sets for Don Giovanni; however, since it’s a new production, I’m not sure that’s what we’ll be seeing.

The graveyard set for Don Giovanni

Carmen is the only one of these operas that I know well, but, as usual, I will be obsessively listening to all of them beforehand, except for Lucrezia Borgia, which was not available at either the library or Netflix. So, I guess that will be another experiment in going into an opera cold. At least with Cyrano de Bergerac, I really knew the story. And it was in French.

Kate Aldrich in the Met's production of Carmen

By the way, if you are local, but can’t get out to the War Memorial Opera House, you can also experience the San Francisco Opera in high definition on Thursdays on KQED (channel 9). Earlier this month was La Bohème and last night was Lucia di Lammermoor. Still to come are Tosca and L’Elisir d’amore. Of course, watching these only makes me wish I had started doing this when I first moved here!

*Despite Lucasfilm now being a client, I am not contractually obligated to periodically reference Star Wars movies in my blogs. I just do it anyway because they’re awesome. 

Opera 101—H.M.S. Pinafore

I am the monarch of the sea,
The ruler of the Queen’s Navee,
Whose praise Great Britain loudly chants.
(And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!)

When at anchor here I ride,
My bosom swells with pride,
And I snap my fingers at a foeman’s taunts;
(And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!)

But when the breezes blow,
I generally go below,
And seek the seclusion that a cabin grants;
(And so do his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!)

Last night, I saw yet another marvelous production by the Lamplighters.

Michael Belle as Ralph and F. Lawrence Ewing as Sir Joseph Porter.
Photo by Lucas Buxman, 2011.

H.M.S. Pinafore (or The Lass That Loved a Sailor) was Gilbert and Sullivan’s first real success and remains one of the most popular of the Savoy Operas. Really, with its infectious melodies, it’s hard not to like Pinafore—after all, even a modern Major-General can “whistle all the airs from that infernal nonsense Pinafore.” One of the highlights of last night was the joy of the elderly couple in front of me who couldn’t resist bopping along to the music.

Overall, the cast was uniformly strong and confirmed the wisdom of my decision to commit to a subscription this year. F. Lawrence Ewing and Behrend Eilers, who I loved as Jack Point and Wilfred Shadbolt in The Yeomen of the Guard this past February, were fabulous as Sir Joseph Porter and Captain Corcoran respectively. Another Yeomen veteran, Robby Stafford, really made the most out of Dick Deadeye, one of my least favorite roles in the canon.

Bill Bobstay (Chris Uzelac) and Dick Deadeye (Robby Stafford).
Photo by David Allen, 2011.

While not my image of Ralph Rackstraw, I certainly hope to see more of Michael Belle, a newcomer to the Lamplighters with a terrific operatic voice. Another impressive Lamplighters debut was that of Lindsay Thompson Roush, who played Josephine.

Lindsay Thompson Roush as Josephine. Photo by Lucas Buxman, 2011.

If you can, try to catch one of the remaining performances tonight at 8pm or tomorrow at 2pm at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts in San Francisco, or next weekend in Mountain View.

Note: Pinafore is the Lamplighters first production of the 2011-2012 season. They will continue with their annual champagne gala and auction in November (which, had I known was titled It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad, Amazing Race Around the World in 79½ Days!, I might have added to my subscription), The Gondoliers (or The King of Barataria) in January, and a singalong Pirates of Penzance in March.

Opera 101—Bohemian Rhapsody

How do you know when you’ve become addicted to opera? Maybe it’s when your first thought upon realizing that you’ll have a few days to yourself in Paris is “What’s playing at the Opéra de Paris?” Or, more tellingly, you find yourself excited about a ticket to the relatively obscure Czech opera Kátia Kabanová by Leoš Janáček. In any case, I once again found myself at the Palais Garnier this week.

Kátia Kabanová was written in the 1920s, but takes place in the Russian town of Kalinov on the banks of the Volga in the 1860s. This version, directed by Christoph Marthaler, which first came to the Palais Garnier in 2004, displaces the action to what seemed to be the courtyard of a Soviet-era housing block. What I loved about this choice was that people would randomly look down into the courtyard from their windows, adding a touch of reality to the scenery. However, the staging posed other problems, most of all for the conclusion, when *SPOILER ALERT!* Kátia commits suicide. Also, the people sitting in the left-hand side loges must have missed much of the action in Act 1, which took place along the left-hand wall. Thankfully, I was on the right and very little was staged on that side.

The story of the opera is quite simple: Kátia, the young wife of Tichon, is constantly berated by her mother-in-law Kabanicha. While Tichon is on a business trip, Kátia sneaks off to meet Boris, for whom she has secret feelings. Eventually, Tichon returns and, during a great storm, Kátia confesses to Tichon in front of everyone about her affair with Boris and runs away. Learning that Boris’s uncle is sending him away, Kátia eventually throws herself into the river. Tichon cries over the body as Kabanicha matter-of-factly thanks the bystanders for their help. In this production, she goes and pours herself a drink and slowly sips it as the lights go out abruptly, which I thought was a great way to close.

Much of the cast were reprising their roles from the original 2004 production, including Angela Denoke as Kátia, who started off a bit weak in comparison to the other leads (Ales Briscein as Kudriach, Jorma Silvasti as Boris, Donald Kaasch as Tichon, and Andrea Hill as Varvara, the adopted daughter of Kabanicha), but found her voice as the story developed. In general, I was quite impressed with the quality of singing, although physically Boris didn’t really seem to fit his role of young lover.

Finally, I must say that I really could get used to seeing performances in such a luxe opera house; although, in the spirit of Opera Tattler, who is apparently also in Paris these days, I feel compelled to declare that I have found people here much more distracting and noisy than in the States.

Opera 101—Trial by Jury

Hark, the hour of ten is sounding;

Hearts with anxious fears are bounding,

Hall of Justice crowds surrounding,

      Breathing hope and fear –

For today in this arena,

Summoned by a stern subpoena,

Edwin, sued by Angelina,

      Shortly will appear.

I almost missed this one. For some reason, I hadn’t noticed it showing up on Goldstar (maybe it didn’t) until the Lamplighters added an extra performance on Sunday night. Plus, it was raining and I had no one to go with. But my Lenten vow made me get over my laziness and head out to the theater. I wasn’t disappointed.

Jonathan Spencer and Jennifer Ashworth in Trial by Jury

Photo by David Allen and Joanne Kay, 2011

Trial by Jury is Gilbert & Sullivan’s earliest work that is still performed today. While only one act and therefore quite short, it has all the qualities I love about Gilbert & Sullivan operas: fun patter songs, light arias, and, most importantly, the mocking of British institutions, in this case the legal system. Usually paired with another opera (often H. M. S. Pinafore), the Lamplighters chose instead to present this story of a jilted bride suing her former fiancé for breach of promise with an abridged version of Engaged, a play by W. S. Gilbert about a man who is engaged to three women at the same time. I wasn’t particularly in the mood to see both, so thank goodness they presented Engaged first, otherwise I might have left and missed it. Supposedly it was an influence on Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest, and I can totally see that. The heavy Scottish accents in the beginning were a bit tiring, but they were played for great fun and at times the play was downright hilarious. One thing I love about the Lamplighters is that they obviously take enormous pleasure in their performances and their joy is infectious.

Rose Frazier, Lauren Kivowitz, Leontyne Mbele-Mbong, and Chris Uzelac in Engaged

Photo by David Allen and Joanne Kay, 2011

So, mark your calendars for the 2011-2012 season, which starts in August at the Yerba Buena Center and will include both H.M.S. Pinafore (or The Lass That Loved a Sailor) and The Gondoliers (or The King of Barataria), as well as a sing-a-long The Pirates of Penzance (or The Slave of Duty). I really don’t want to miss any of their performances so I may just buy season tickets this time.