One Foscari Better Than the Other

Print this Article

February 1, 2013
From Seen and Heard International By: José Mª. Irurzun; Picture courtesy Palau de Les Arts Valencia, © Tato Baeza

Spain G. Verdi, I Due Foscari: Soloists, Valenciana Community Orchestra, Generalitat Valenciana Chorus, Omer Meir Wellber (conductor), Palau de Les Arts, Valencia (JMI)
New Production Palau de Les Arts in coproduction with Los Angeles Opera, Theater an der Wien and Covent Garden.

I Due Foscari was the sixth opera composed by Giuseppe Verdi and was his second collaboration with librettist Piave. I find it one of Verdi’s best from “the galley years”, but it is one of the least performed, probably due to the influence of its weak and predictable plot.
In Spain it has been performed rarely, most recently in Bilbao (2008, S&H review here) and Las Palmas (2011). This production in Valencia commemorates the bicentennial of Verdi’s birth, and features Placido Domingo, who only added the character of Francesco Foscari (the 140th of his career) last September in Los Angeles in this same production.
Thadeus Strassberger is content simply to narrate the story of the Foscari (15th century Venetians), placed in its historical setting. The sets are limited to a platform in the middle of the stage, with the scene changes indicated by adding modules and props. Behind this was a permanent bridge, on which extras and members of the chorus appeared every so often. Least convincing of the stage production is the last scene, placed in the bedroom of the Doge instead of the Council Chamber.
The costumes are very appealing, always in red, black or white (apart from those for Lucrezia Contarini) and the dark and gloomy atmosphere allows imaginative lighting. A production, all said, that is neither problematic, nor attractive, nor interesting.
Omer Meir Wellber conducted with so much energy that it sometimes seemed excessive. On more than one occasion the volume was ill-judged, especially in the ensembles, and there were some coordination problems in the first act between stage and pit. The orchestra again proved its quality, although the sound was not equal to that achieved under Riccardo Chailly last December. (S&H review here.)
The cast disappointed: None of the three main characters had voices well suited to the roles they were singing. The Doge Francesco Foscari is one of the greatest characters to sing for a true Verdi baritone. Placido Domingo is not, however, a true Verdi baritone. His miraculous vocal freshness (at 72!) and unequaled status in the history of opera notwithstanding, Mr. Domingo is still a tenor, just without the top notes and this rôle a poor fit. Whereas his exceptional artistry helped him perform most moving Simon Boccanegra, the feat was not repeated here. In his grand finale he lacked emotion, simply because his voice is not appropriate to the demands of the character.
In the first two acts there was a shortage of contrast between the voices and Domingo was virtually inaudible in the main concertante. At least he knows that he is not a baritone and he never tries to be one, always singing, as he does in an easily appreciated, very natural way. Perhaps not a disappointing performance in the end, but also not a thrilling one.
The character who has to sing the most is Jacopo Foscari, a rôle for a spinto tenor who is also no stranger to belcanto. Ivan Magri is a light lyric tenor, as we could hear in his performance in this same theatre as the Duca di Mantova. He tries to darken his voice, but he can only achieve one continuous sound, which results in monotonous singing. In Los Angeles, Francesco Meli sang this character and although his vocal characteristics are similar, his singing was better by far. Not Magri’s fault, but one of unfortunate casting.
Something similar can be said of Guanqun Yu, a lyric soprano who lacks the range for a character like Lucrezia Contarini. Her middle range is not strong enough for the character, with serious shortfalls in the low notes where she is practically inaudible. The best part of her voice is the top register, which is remarkable in the ensembles, but the lack of color in her voice makes boring listening. She would be a very good in different repertoire. The most important voice, although not the best, was that of Gianluca Buratto as Jacopo Loredano, who did well. This character does not demand nobility in the voice so the range and character suited this Italian bass.
This was the premiere of the opera in Valencia but despite Plácido Domingo heading the cast, the Palau de Les Arts was not even at 90% of its capacity—and that after steep last minute discounts on tickets.

Direction: Thaddeus Strassberger
Sets: Kevin Knight
Costumes: Mattie Ullrich
Lighting: Bruno Poet
Cast
Francesco Foscari: Plácido Domingo
Jacopo Foscari: Ivan Magri
Lucrezia Contarini: Guanqun Yu
Loredano: Gianluca Buratto
Barbarigo: Mario Cerdá
Pisana: Marina Pinchuk

Print this Article

The Not So Perfect American

Print this Article

January 29, 2013
From Seen and Heard International By: José Mª. Irurzun; Picture courtesy Teatro Real, © Javier del Real

Spain P. Glass, The Perfect American: Soloists, Orchestra and Chorus Teatro Real, Dennis Russell Davies (conductor), Teatro Real, Madrid, 22.1.2013 (JMI)
World Premiere Performance

The world premiere of an opera is always a very special occasion, especially if it is the work of a renowned composer like Philip Glass. Credit is due to Teatro Real’s artistic director, Gerard Mortier, who brought this opera to Madrid from the smoldering ruins of his aborted would-be stint at the New York City Opera.
The libretto to The Perfect American is by Rudy Wurlitzer and in turn based on Peter Stephan Jungk’s novelized biography of Walt Disney, Der König von Amerika. The libretto is the major weakness of the opera: there is no dramatic action, only the demystification of the figure of Disney through a series of scenes that show (variously fictionalized) key points in his life. There is no drama, nor contrast, just a particular view of the character, emphasizing his reactionary ideas, his racism, his selfishness, his desire for notoriety, and his need to leave an enduring legacy.
There is nothing unusual in the fact that a character as famous as Disney is shown in a whole different light to the usual image we receive. This has happened to many characters in literature and opera—think Don Carlo, Philipp II, or Mary Stuart. The problem is that what might work in a novel or in a biography does not necessarily work as an opera libretto, especially if there is little drama and still less differentiation between characters. We are near enough in time to Disney for the story to resonate, but I doubt if this will endure beyond this generation.
Jungk’s Disney may bear surprises for those who never heard about the more salacious rumors and factoids of Micky Mouse’s creater. But it’s not enough to engage the attention of the audience. Dantine, a trade unionist and cartoonist fired by Disney and now back on his trail, might have kindled the necessary interest, but Wurlitzer’s libretto presents him as near-insignificant.
Thankfully the work is much stronger, musically. Although Philip Glass’s music is not to everybody’s liking, there is no doubt that he is one of the most important composers of our time. In this case there is less focus on minimalism than usual. The score is pleasant, easy to listen to, and masterfully orchestrated. There are plenty outstanding passages which perfectly meets one’s expectations… certainly mine. For my money, it is one of Glass’ very best operas. That said, it is important to emphasize that the vocal writing in this opera is not interesting, demanding as it does only some quasi parlando recitatives that are more suitable for actors than opera singers.
Phelim McDermott’s production, finally, is excellent. There is only one stage, in the form of a raised platform. A few differentiating props denote the change of scenes, and good use is made of video projections. The direction of the actors is really good; the dialogue between Walt Disney and his Abraham Lincoln robot (“Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln”) at the end of Act I is one of the high points.
The musical direction was entrusted to Dennis Russell Davies, who gave a wholly convincing interpretation. It can’t be easy to conduct this opera, but he did a very good job, keeping the tension and interest all the way through—which is quite a feat in a still-unknown opera by Philip Glass. The orchestra of the Teatro Real played along excellently and the performance from the chorus was top notch.
As I have already said, vocally there is little of interest in this opera. In this, there is a big difference with the other world premiere of recent months, Written on the Skin by George Benjamin, which I found much more interesting both dramatically and vocally.
Christopher Purves seems to have become a star of world premieres; he was also the protagonist in George Benjamin’s opera Written on the Skin (S&H review here). His interpretation of Walt Disney was dramatically convincing but, inevitably given my previous remarks, uninteresting vocally.
David Pittsinger was adequate as Roy Disney, Walt’s brother, while Janis Kelly made a serviceable Hazel George or Snow White—the nurse and supposed paramour of Disney. Among all the other vocal performance, only Donald Kaasch’s William Dantine was interesting and good enough to merit mention; the rest didn’t, at least, offend.

Production: Teatro Real and English National Opera
Direction: Phelim McDermott
Sets and Costumes: Dan Potra
Lighting: Jon Clark
Videos: Leo Warner
Cast
Walt Disney: Christopher Purves
Roy Disney: David Pittsinger
William Dantine: Donald Kaasch
Hazel George: Janis Kelly
Lilian Disney: Marie McLaughlin
Sharon. Sarah Tynan
Diane: Nazan Fikret
Lucy/Josh: Rosie Lomas
Abraham Lincoln: Zachary James
Andy Warhol: John Easterlin
A Doctor: Juan Noval-Moro

Print this Article

Verdi’s La Traviata at U of AZ’s Opera Theater Ends on a High Note

Print this Article

When the U of A’s Opera Theater announced it would mount Verdi’s La Traviata* as its 2012 fall production, Stage Director Charles Roe and Music Director Thomas Cockrell must have realized that they were taking on their biggest artistic challenge since their first collaboration of Little Women in 2006. It came as no surprise that it took four performances of the opera from November 15 to 18 to reach the artistic success that the entire company desired.

But what turned out to be the biggest asset in the Opera Theater’s production of Verdi’s most intimate opera was the casting of Yunnie Park and Christy McClarty as the composer’s tragic heroine, Violetta. It was a pleasure to hear these two sopranos who, previously, brought great passion and vocal strengths to Puccini’s Suor Angelica and Menotti’s The Consul, add another great role to their repertoire. Although it took a second performance from each soprano to reach the artistic level I’m sure both singers strove for, it was well worth the wait.

Park’s Violetta was filled with gleaming legato, traveling through the role’s dynamics, from forte to pianissimo with vocal ease. At the first performance, Park couldn’t quite line up her character’s body language with her vocals, but by the second outing, her movements and vocals were truly in sync allowing her to deliver a beautiful Violetta. McClarty’s first Violetta also found her molding the role’s vocal and dramatic requirements to fit the natural soulful warmth her voice projected throughout her second performance which accented the sadness apparent in Violetta’s character.

Both Park and McClarty’s vocal arsenals are such that they can easily project the dynamics of mezza voce and piano whenever Verdi calls for them, and these vocals are a must for Violetta. And if you are a closeted lover of high notes, both sopranos hit beautifully placed and dramatic high C’s at the end of the Sempre Libra, Violetta’s rationale for her courtesan lifestyle which ends Act One.

Both Humberto Borboa Beltran and Guillermo Lopez Gutierrez as Alfredo, Violetta’s impassioned, youthful lover, had to pass through the learning curve of a first performance to reach the role’s vocal demands in their second one. Beltran displayed a vibrant, youthful voice capable of forte and mezza forte dynamics. Gutierrez fostered a firm vocal interpretation, but at times strayed from the pitch. Both tenors gave good renditions of Alfredo’s second act aria, De’miei bollenti spirti if not with the cheerful nonchalance the aria required. They are, however, welcomed additions to the Opera Theater with secure futures ahead of them.

For the first time, considering all his artistic successes with the Opera Theater, Seth Kershisnik met up with a role that did not suit his personality. He could not act out the required paternal demands of the role of Germont that Verdi composed for him. As Alfredo’s father, who confronts the insecure Violetta in their great second act duet, he moved aimlessly through the role. More’s the pity because, vocally, Kershisnik moved smoothly up and down the scale, showing how easily he could handle the wide vocal range Verdi composed for his Germont.

Charles Hamilton’s Germont was on firmer ground dramatically. With McClarty, the baritone was able to keep both his concern and distance on an even keel. Vocally, he was able to handle Verdi’s vocal demands showing just a dash of strain at the very top of his voice. And he had an easier time coping with Roe’s over-emphasis on the caring side of Germont’s character. There were too many pats on the head and warm embraces with Violetta. These indulgent gestures are not in Germont’s vocabulary, and it lessened the dramatic effect Verdi intended for the one embrace Violetta and Germont have at the end of their Act Two duet.

The chorus in La Traviata is also a major player. Verdi composed three choral sections that comment directly on the opera’s story. In Act One, the opening party scene has the chorus joining Violetta and Alfredo in the very famous Brindisi, probably the most well-known drinking song in the opera canon. The chorus also ends the act with a rousing farewell to Violetta at her home.  And in Act Three, at Flora’s house party, its music is so skillfully intertwined with Alfredo’s vitriolic denunciation of the heroine and Germont’s admonition to his son for daring to insult a woman in public, it shows how much Verdi truly loved his heroine.

Under Bruce Chamberlain’s direction, the chorus created flashes of musical splendor. I have never heard the exit music from Act One sung with such vocal polish and attention to Verdi’s choral details. No doubt, Chamberlain will be on hand for future productions, another feather in Roe and Cockrell’s artistic cap. In addition, Chamberlain’s choral work brought a real life force to Roe’s “stand and sing” direction for the chorus.

Again, Sally Day was successful in mounting a set which Roe wanted for the opera’s original 1850 time period.  She represented it by using five tall panels that doubled for doorways and windows, strategically placing them to look like the interior of Violetta and Flora’s Parisian homes and Violetta’s country house in Act Two. There was, however, a minor distraction with doors not closing on cue.

The costumes, especially for the women, that Christopher Allen and his shop crew presented were colorful and in line with the hooped skirts popular in the mid-19th Century. They not only complimented the shades of green and gray in Day’s sets, but Allen added some deep reds and blues to fill out the overall color scheme of the production. The women in the chorus wore the correct wigs for the period; however, those for Park and McClarty did not blend harmoniously with Allen’s beautiful white and mauve costumes he designed for the protagonists.

Conductor Thomas Cockrell kept the Arizona Symphony Orchestra moving at a brisk pace, revealing how Verdi wanted Violetta’s life story to unfold in a dramatic, but swift fashion. But in the Act One and Act Three preludes, where Verdi  musically languishes over Violetta’s plight, Cockrell had the orchestra tread slowly through all the haunting measures, letting the strings take the lead in expressing Violetta’s sorrow. Their diminuendi and carefully-timed pauses were very touching.

Ace Edewards, who joined the conducting staff this year, led the Sunday afternoon performance. He closely paralleled Cockrell’s pacing, demonstrating just how well the Symphony Orchestra can follow the lead of more than one conductor. This production shows how much time and effort Roe and Cockrell are putting into raising the vocal and musical standards with every new operatic adventure.

November 15,16,17 & 18, 2012      Crowder Hall         The  University of Arizona

* The Story of the Opera    Paris c.1850   The consumptive Violetta has won the love of Alfredo. He declares himself to her, but she is reluctant to enter into any serious attachment. Violetta and Alfredo have been living together in the country for three months. While Alfredo is away, his father Giorgio Germont calls. He appeals to Violetta to break off this scandalous relationship since it is endangering the forthcoming marriage of his daughter. Because of her love for Alfredo, she agrees. As Violetta leaves, Alfredo is handed a letter from her declaring they must part. He notices an invitation to a party from Violetta’s friend Flora and is sure he will find her there. Violetta has gone to the party with her former protector, Baron Douphol. Alfredo arrives and Violetta pleads with him to leave before the Baron challenges him to a duel. Her unfaithfulness angers Alfredo, and he flings at her money he has won at cards as repayment for what she has spent on him. Germont arrives and reprimands his son for his conduct.

Several weeks later, and Violetta is seriously ill. In a letter to her, Germont admits that he revealed her sacrifice to his son. Alfredo enters and begs forgiveness; he promises that they will spend the rest of their lives together in happiness. He then realizes how ill Violetta is.  She finds strength momentarily and rises to her feet, but falls dead.

Summary from:          The Concise Oxford Dictionary of Opera          John Warrack andEvan West         Third Edition 1996

Print this Article