The opera ain't over!

It is hard for me to fathom how anyone could leave Verdi's Don Carlos before the end. Don't they know the best music is in the last three scenes! (at least I was able to convince my friend not leave before Ella giammai m'amò). I could see why someone might want to leave if the performance wasn't especially good, but tonight at the Met, it was pretty special and to leave before O don fatale!, Per me giunto and Tu che le vanità, not to mention the Grand Inquisitor scene, deprives you of some of Verdi's most poignant and dramatic music.

In his program notes, Andrew Porter says once again that "There can be no 'definitive' edition of Don Carlos", but then contradicts this in his notes ("I have sometimes even regretted that I did not leave those dusty 1867 parts undisturbed"). He, of all people, should know better. There is a definitive version: the revisions that Verdi made in 1883 (performed at La Scala in 1884), with the caveat that Verdi sanctioned the restoration of the first act in 1886. The 1867 Paris Opera version may be interesting to hear as a curiosity, but Verdi was an experienced man of the theater. If he revised a section after hearing it performed at least once I suggest (and as does Mr. Porter) that maybe he knew what he was doing. Listen to the Rodrigue/Philippe scene in the Antonio Pappano led recording on EMI, and you'll see what I mean. It's nice enough I guess (and admirably performed), but lacks the tautness of the final version that is standard.

Just when you least expect it

I am always amazed at the ability of music to exert its effect on me. On Easter Sunday, I was sitting in the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church choirloft, as I have done for the past 12 years, tired after our second service, including two Hallelujah Choruses (Messiah and Christ on the Mount of Olives) x 2 and getting ready for the 7 hours of driving ahead of me. Trying to muster up my energy, in silence, I sat there listening to my friend Terence Flanagan playing the Widor Toccata (from Symphony No 5 in F, Op 42 No 1). Now I've heard him play this many times, including at my wedding and once before on this particular day. Yet of all a sudden, I felt my pulse race and my body start to shiver. I smiled and I was rejuvenated; ready to face the rest of the day.

It just does it to me sometimes.

Right or Wrong

A friend, who knows of my admiration for the artistry of Karita Mattila (others might call it obssession), gave me a copy of an opera aria CD of a few years ago. Of course I like it. She is a wonderful singer. But Mattila is one of those singers for whom her singing is only a part of the equation. She is the most compelling operatic actress currently active and while her singing is always wonderful, it is when she is on stage that her true greatness comes through.

She sings two Italian arias on this album and while she'll almost persuasive, vocally it's just not the right profile. Her voice, while beautiful, is not capable of the same kind of warm legato in Come in quest'ora bruna and In quella trine morbide that one would hear from more italiante soprano (like Tebaldi). Yet, textually and musically, she makes a very compelling case.

Which causes a dilemna for me. I wasn't earlier convinced of the rightness of her singing Amelia in Un ballo in maschera (which she does in London this month) or Manon Lescaut which she does in Chicago and Houston, next season. I just don't picture her particular strengths transforming these kind of roles. But now, I'm intrigued. If she applies this kind of intelligence to the vocal performance (as she does in the recording), can her physical presence make this something special, although in a way that I didn't expect? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. Perhaps I'm going to have take a couple of trips :)

Bobby Short

Another remembrance as Bobby Short has died today. He was the epitome of NY wit and sophistication to me and just the other day I was spending a glorious time with some of his music. There is an obituary on the NY Times site but also read Terry Teachout's touching reminiscence of him.

RIP Theodor Uppman

Theodor Uppman died on Thursday. He was 85.

His claim to fame was of course as Billy Budd, first in the world premiere and later on Television. He was very much a presence on the Met stage through the 50s and 70s, making his mark in a handful of roles including Papageno, Paquillo in La Perichole, Pelleas and Masetto (but unfortunately not Billy Budd, which entered the Met repertoire in the season after his last).

My opera going days overlapped his career by only few years, but I missed seeing him live. Still, there are a few recordings (a Met La Perichole and of course Billy Budd), which indicate what a fine artist he was. He was a teacher in later years and very visible in NY musical life. He will be much missed.

NY Times obituary

Muti and LaScala

There is quite a ruckus at the Teatro alla Scala right now. All performances have been cancelled and the staff of the house (including the orchestra) have asked for Riccardo Muti's resignation. The underlying reason for this is apparently the feeling that Muti wants full control of the house by arranging for the board to fire Carlo Fontana, the general manager, with whom Muti had a falling out, and installing his supporter Mauro Meli in his stead. But apparently the orchestra was offended by Muti's not consulting them. An orchestra member was quoted as saying "If he had spoken to us, it would have been positive." Is this just a case of hurt feelings?

My own feelings about Muti are somewhat ambivalent. I strongly disagree with his come scritto policy, when it comes to performing mid-19th century Italian opera (Verdi in particular), but I have enjoyed many of his performances. I was especially moved by a Brahm's 2nd he conducted with the NY Philharmonic. He returns in a few weeks to conduct Liszt's A Faust Symphony and I'm looking forward to that eagerly.

I'm sure that this will work itself out, but it only reminds me that the next time I go to Italy, I shouldn't depend on seeing the performances scheduled during my trip.

My blog should really have a much more interesting name. I'm giving it some thought and hopefully will come up with something soon.

Added March 21: There is a pretty nasty article in the Independent (via Arts Journal) about Muti and another in the Times (courtesy no guru, no method, no teacher) speculating on possible sucessors (even though Muti hasn't resigned yet).

Happy St. Patrick's Day (a day late)

Joining some colleagues after work for a tradition St. Patrick's Day libation, I had to an endure a frighteningly awful quartet of lady musicians (on guitar, accordian, keyboard and drums, with a Celtic harp and bagpipes lying nearby, thankfully unplayed) playing some traditional Irish music and some decidedly not (Piano Man).

So to purge my ears I decided to find some other Irish music to celebrate with and I found Sir Hamilton Harty's Irish Symphony (courtesy of Rhapsody, Naxos and the National Symphony of Ireland). This was much more the thing to go down with my ale. Just for fun, I'll throw in some John McCormack as well.

By the way, if you are in the neighborhood of Milford (MA) Town Hall at 7:30 on March 19, 2005, you do well to go see The Clafin Hill Symphony Orchestra with I Squared, guest artists Matthew Surapine and Jim Russell, tenors. It will be very entertaining evening of Irish and Italian music which I recommend highly (and not just because one of them is my brother).

What's going on at Andante?

I subscribe to Andante, the web site devoted to classical music. I like the site, which has an interesting selection of streaming performances and first-class (if a bit pricey) reissues on its label. I was a little worried when they were acquired by naive, but the addition of that catalog, which has some very good recordings, has only enhanced it.

But I get worried about its long-term health (especially given the current state of the classical recording industry). The news section (which I find pretty valuable) hasn't been updated in over a week. This is the second time I've noticed such a large gap (the first was around the holidays). Is it that the staff who manages this is away and there is no backup, or is this a sign of problems at the site? Does anybody know?

Old and New Friends

My recent trip to Sarasota Opera reminded me of some of the enthusiams in my past that I haven't revisited in a while. I probabaly know I Pagliacci better than any opera in the repertoire for the simple reason that when I was in my teens I memorized it. I loved its melodic passion and repeated listenings committed most of it to my memory. It was the second opera performance I saw, at the Metropolitan Opera, Nov. 23, 1974 (I was 12) with Richard Tucker in one of his last performances (thanks to the online Met Annals in the newly redone Met website for that info).

Listening to the opening bars of Cavalleria in Sarasota last weekend, reminded me sitting in my room, putting my birthday present LPs of Cavalleria on my turntable, and trying to picture what that day would have been like in Sicily, which was to begin with such serenity and end with death.

There is a lot of music that brings back memories for me, and I find that not even time can dull my enjoyment, even if I'm now more knowledgeable about the works and their technical shortcomings or failings. Still, I take comfort in the fact that, even after a long absence, I can still experience that same sort of wonder, and enjoyment as I did all those years ago. For me that feeling is enhanced by the passing of years and the accumulated memories that it brings. I can picture the first time I heard the 3rd Act ensemble from Otello, and the physical reaction that I had to it. Please, don't anyone ever try to tell me that Adriana Lecouvreur is a bad opera. It may be, but I won't accept it. Seeing Caballe, Carreras and Cossotto at the Met in the late 70s in this operas, convinced me that it was effective (and luckily I have recordings of Olivero and Tebaldi to help me maintain that myth).

Happily I find that I still have that experience now and then. The richness and depth of the repertoire (not just limited to classical and opera) ensure that I still have those moments of discovery that take my breath away. For years I listened to almost exclusively vocal music, but I've been having some real moments of wonder in expanding my horizons recently. Shostakovich is a composer that I have always taken for granted, but every time I've heard his music "live" (as opposed to on recording), I remember how much his music affects me. Recently hearing concerts of Sibelius and Elgar (whose music I seemed to have entirely missed until recent years) have opened me up to new repertoire and experience.

When people ask me about why I love music (ok, no one has, but that's not the point), it is these moments that I point to. It still, after all these years, has the ability to be new. Even now, it amazes, bewilders and moves me.

A rude awakening

It was a rude awakening. I had just left sunny and warm Florida after spending 4 days seeing opera and visiting friends, to arrive again in Newark to yet another snow storm. Irony: having to shovel snow with a sun burn.

I was glad to be home of course, but it was a nice 4 days. Four operas in three days and one day reserved for the beach. It was my yearly trip to the Sarasota Opera. I have special affection for this company, partly because it was my operatic home for the 5 busiest years of my singing career, partly because of the great friendships that I formed and because they just do such good opera.

I won't really review their performances, I'm too biased for that. But I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed the four performances I saw there. Stiffelio is a very good opera and I think would have a much higher profile had Verdi not torn it up to make Aroldo and hidden the pieces from posterity. Lakmé on the other hand deserves its marginal place in the repertoire despite the presence of a few good tunes. I think the character of Gerard wins the prize as the most spineless, indecisive tenor lead in opera (a tough competition to win) which, as a tenor, will turn me off any opera immediately. Don Ottavio in Don Giovanni belongs somewhere in that competition, but luckily we pay little attention to him as to the glorious music by Mozart, the rakish Don and the very interesting and well-characterized female characters. And finally seeing Cavalleria Rusticana and I Pagliacci again reminded me of the fondness that I have for these pieces. It may be un-PC to say so, but I love these operas and even today, Pagliacci packs a good punch and causes shivers down my spine.

A nice weekend of sun and music, with good friends in a place that holds many good memories for me. And now, in multiple layers of sweaters and coats, back to the snow.

Oh to be young again...

Last night I heard a very beautiful rendition of Mozart's Grabmusik performed by my friend Richard Westenburg and his Musica Sacra (with great solo work from my colleagues Judith Pannill and Kent Smith). This work, written when Mozart was 11, contains a little unidiomatic vocal writing (including a bass aria that is a precursor of Der Hölle Rache, which was brilliantly handled by Kent) but much that is very beautiful.

"It is sobering to think that when Mozart was my age, he'd been dead for 7 years" (paraphrasing Tom Lehrer)