South Florida Opera Scene

Opera Girl has moved!

2012-08-17T23:44:00.000-04:00

Dear readers, I have just left South Florida for the verdant hills of Oregon. And I mean that quite literally, as I am currently looking out the living room window of a hilltop house, through the trees, at the college stadium all the way across town. But I digress. The point is that I will no longer be able to attend local performances in South Florida. So what does this mean? For starters, it means, obviously, that I will unfortunately not be reviewing those productions anymore. It also means that my focus will shift to the small local opera company, and occasionally to some of the larger ones up and down the West Coast. But I am still undecided about the fate of this site. I don't know yet whether I will continue to write general posts here, or whether I will simply start a new page centered around opera in Oregon. Either way, I will keep you posted. In the meantime, keep enjoying that warm Florida weather, because I already need a jacket in the morning!

Exploring Artists: June Anderson

2012-07-02T13:55:00.001-04:00

Welcome back, dear readers. I must apologize for my recent absence, but a minor auto accident back in February has made sitting at a computer for extended periods of time a rather uncomfortable experience. I am doing much better now, however, and I hope to continue to bring you lots of exciting information from the world of opera. So today, I will continue our Exploring Artists series with one of the ladies from my childhood.
As a teenager, and throughout much of my 20s, June Anderson was my favorite soprano. To my ears, her voice was always a thing of beauty. Yet recently I've found, more often than not, that when I mention her name, people look at me and say, "Who?" I couldn't understand it, but then I realized that it has, indeed, been quite a bit of time since I heard her name mentioned by anyone else. So for those of you who are unfamiliar with her work, (and for everyone else, too,) here is a bit about June Anderson.
Ms. Anderson was born in Boston in 1952. She began studying music as a child, and at age 17, she became the youngest artist to be named a finalist in the Metropolitan Opera auditions. Her career, however, was not launched at that point, and she did not make her debut at the Met until 1989, when she sang the role of Gilda in Rigoletto. Rather, she entered Yale University, where she graduated with a degree in French. At that point, she embarked on her journey to become a singer, selecting law school as her fall-back in case she didn't make it.
Needless to say, Ms. Anderson never made it to law school. She made her professional debut in 1978 with the New York City Opera, singing the Queen of the Night in Die Zauberflote, a role she would later supply the vocals for in that great movie, Amadeus.

Ms. Anderson spent several years in Europe, where she specialized in bel canto roles. During this time, she performed works by Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti, and was, in fact, the first non-Italian recipient of the Bellini d'Oro award. Over the years, she met with great critical acclaim for her bel canto singing, and particularly for her portrayal of Lucia di Lammermoor.

During the 1990s, June Anderson began to expand her repertoire to include works of Verdi and Tchaikovsky, among others. In 1995, she made her role debut as Desdemona in Verdi's Otello opposite Placido Domingo, in a performance I was extremely fortunate to attend. I was in my final month of high school, and I skipped a week of classes to do the nineteen-hour-each-way drive to Los Angeles with my mother. It was a stunning performance, and we had quite an adventure backstage afterwards, but that story is for another time. Here is Ms. Anderson singing the Ave Maria from Otello in 2001.

Since then, I have seen her perform at least one other time, and possibly twice. I was positive that I had seen her in Rigoletto, but now I'm not so sure. At the same time, only today, I realized that I saw her role debut of Leonora in Il Trovatore in 1998. She last performed with the Metropolitan Opera about ten years ago, and since then, she has added several new roles to her repertoire. Last year, she took on the roles of Madame Lidoine in Dialogues des Carmelites, and of Salome. Her latest addition came earlier this year, as she performed the role of Pat Nixon in Théâtre du Châtelet's production of Nixon in China. She continues to perform in concerts and recitals across Europe, and has even participated in a musical cruise of the Mediterranean.
I will leave you now with a 1991 performance of Caro Nome. I hope to see you all back here very soon. Ciao for now!

Popera Singers: What is the role of Classical Crossover artists, or whatever you want to call them?

2012-06-12T11:46:00.000-04:00

Most of my friends are not opera lovers. It's not that they really dislike opera, it's just that they simply don't know. "Opera? You mean that fat lady with the horns? Or do you mean Pavarotti?" For most of the general public, this is all they know. It's what mainstream popular culture tells us opera is.
Every now and then, when I converse with my non-opera-loving friends, our discussions turn to music. And sometimes, one or another says something like, "Oh, I love Andrea Bocelli, and Sarah Brightman, too! And how about that trio of teenage tenors, and Paul Potts? And Jackie Evancho is absolutely amazing! So, yeah, I guess I do like some opera!"

Now, after a statement like that, some more experienced opera lovers may be left scratching their heads and saying, "Huh? Are you serious? Have you ever even HEARD a real opera singer?" I've seen many an online debate sparked by someone trying to compare Jackie Evancho to the likes of Renee Fleming. And one time, my brother and I couldn't help bursting into raucous laughter when we walked past the music section in Target and saw a recording of Carmen starring Andrea Bocelli featured prominently in the Pop section, along with several other of his CDs.
Now, I could very easily join in with all the (sometimes good-natured) ribbing that often occurs at the expense of these artists. Or I could point out that, while talent in its raw state may be present, only when Jackie Evancho hold her own with other singers on stage, be heard at the very back of a large opera house without the benefit of a microphone, and convincingly portray a role at the same time, can she ever be compared with Renee Fleming. And, sure, I could have a lot of fun chuckling about these singers and their often rabid fan base. But then I really think I would be missing the point of it all.
I mean, think about it. Regardless of how you personally feel about crossover artists, actually stop and think about it. Seriously. I mean, there was a recording of CARMEN in the POP section! Along with other opera-ish recordings! Presented right there to the mainstream music audience, who might not even step foot in the classical aisle!

And that, right there, is the whole point I'm trying to make with all this. These singers, while quite missing the mark for many of us, do play a vital role in the world of music. They bring a taste of opera to millions of people who would otherwise never even give it a try. And there is really no better illustration of this point than the talent shows that made many of these people famous in the first place. I remember watching episodes of America's/Britain's Got Talent, with audiences full of average people, along with millions of national network TV viewers. On those occasions, they often followed other musical acts, ranging from pop to rock, country to rap. Then one or another of them would walk out onstage, open his or her mouth, and leave the audience absolutely astonished. The next day, there would be headlines about this or that incredible talent that had just been discovered. And each time, the singer continued through the competition to the very end, taking second place on the occasions where he or she did not actually win the whole thing. And each time, it was mainstream audiences voting for their favorites who put these singers in the top spots. People who were never exposed to opera before picked these artists as their favorites. Many of those people have continued with independent exploration, and have thus arrived at the magical destination that is opera. And those who haven't, have at the very least realized that opera is more than just a fat lady with horns.

I know I'm late, but..... A tribute to the winners of the Opera News Awards

2012-05-04T21:05:00.001-04:00

Last weekend, Opera News Magazine celebrated five great contributors to the world of opera with its 7th Annual Opera News Awards. The honorees included sopranos Karita Mattila and Anja Silja, baritones Dmitri Hvorostovsky and Peter Mattei, and director Peter Sellars. While I would have loved to write a nice long piece about each one of them, a shortage of time renders that temporarily impossible. So I will rather pay tribute to them here with samples of their works.

Karita Mattila has been wowing audiences since she won the first ever Cardiff Singer of the World competition in 1983. Here she is in the Metropolitan Opera's recent production of Tosca.

Next up is Anja Silja, seen here in a 1968 performance of Fidelio.

Switching over to the men, we have another Cardiff winner, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, in his most recent portrayal of Giorgio Germont, which he just wrapped up at the Met earlier this week.

Next, Swedish baritone Peter Mattei gives us a taste of the lighter side of opera with his delightful rendition of Largo al factotum.

Finally, we have director Peter Sellars. Normally, I would have posted a clip of his film of Don Giovanni, but seeing that I just posted it yesterday in an unrelated piece, I had to find something else. So rather than showing another clip of something he directed, I decided to share a short interview that provides a bit of insight into his thought processes.

And there we have the five honorees of this year's Opera News Awards. I hope you will join me in sending them a huge "Thank You" for everything they have put into their art.

Love them or hate them? What's your take on modern productions?

2012-05-03T12:03:00.000-04:00

We've all been there before. You purchase tickets to your favorite opera. You get dressed up in your best evening clothes, and you arrive at the opera house nice and early. You find your seat, and wait in excited anticipation for the moment when the opening strains of that glorious music finally reach your ears. The lights go down, the conductor steps up to the podium, and the curtain rises on... Leporello, dressed as a chauffeur, driving a limousine made entirely of chairs. And that's it. That's the extent of the scenery. Just chairs. There's nothing else on stage, absolutely nothing, for the entire three hours. You sit there watching the performance and enjoying the music regardless of the scenery (or lack thereof), but throughout the entire evening, a part of you is unable to focus on the opera because you can't stop wondering what on earth the director was thinking.
I saw that particular Don Giovanni at the age of fourteen or fifteen, at a well-known opera house that shall remain nameless. And to this day, I can't figure out what the point of it was. The memory brings to mind my four-year-old son making trains out of our dining room chairs. Maybe there was some deep message there, and I just didn't get it. Or maybe the director was just trying to be different.
Over the years, I have seen many performances with "just chairs" scenery, in opera houses from Seattle to Tel Aviv. And the only one that has worked, at least for me, was the Metropolitan Opera's recent production of Eugene Onegin. But maybe that was because those chairs actually belonged there, and the director was going for minimalist simplicity rather than cutting-edge who-knows-what.

Last night, I had the pleasure of attending the encore screening of La Traviata in HD from the Metropolitan Opera. I had heard much discussion about the current production, which utilizes as its scenery an Ikea sofa and a giant clock. When I first saw the promotional pictures about a year ago, my initial thought was, "Oh, you have got to be kidding me!" But then people began talking about it, and the concepts intrigued me. I listened with an open mind, and I went to the theater with quite a bit of curiosity about what I would see. The scenery, of course, was no surprise, nor were the costumes. What I was waiting to see were the emotional, psychological, and atmospheric effects this staging would have. And I got it. I understood what the director was doing, and in a way, it worked. The production magnified Violetta's sense of isolation and despair in the midst of a sinister society that would completely consume her and cast her aside, easily replaced by the next girl to come along. She is haunted throughout by her impending mortality and by the knowledge that she cannot escape her fate. It was dramatically very effective, and yet I did not initially like it very much. I tried to put my finger on what it was that I disliked, and I realized that I have spent my whole life seeking out and admiring the most realistic, historically accurate productions I could find.
This realization made me do a lot of thinking. Even as I write this, I am reexamining my approach to modern productions of classic operas. I understand that these operas that have been repeatedly performed over the past 200 years or so, often in very similar productions around the world, occasionally need to be examined in a different light. While I always feel that the music should speak for itself, fresh ideas and new perspectives have the ability to add so much depth to the operas we think we know so well.
Now there are, of course, all kinds of updates. There are those that transport the opera to a different time period, often moving the action up a century or two in history; for example, a Carmen I once saw set in 1930s Spain, or that brilliant modern-day streets of New York-style Don Giovanni that Peter Sellars produced back in the early 1990s.

Then there are those productions that mix the old and the new, effectively removing the story from any specific time period, and thereby demonstrating the timelessness of these great works. Then you have your varying degrees of minimalist, surreal, and postmodern production, some of which work better than others. And of course, you have productions whose aim is to create controversy, such as Rusalka in a brothel and the so-called Brokeback Onegin.

So the question is this: With a growing number of opera companies opting for modern productions over more traditional ones, how much is too much? Should these traditional productions be preserved, or should they all be replaced? And to what extent should opera be updated? Do these new productions have to try to make some sort of point, or is it enough to just be different? When some productions provoke thought and others leave us scratching our heads, where should the line be drawn? For myself, I'm taking another look at my longstanding opinions. Where do you stand? I would love to hear your opinion!

Rigoletto is no slouch! A wonderful evening with Florida Grand Opera

2012-01-29T18:03:00.001-05:00

Florida Grand Opera raised the curtain last night on Verdi's masterpiece, Rigoletto. The evening's performance was a highly-anticipated event, and the opera house was packed with people eager to see this wonderful opera. The air crackled with excitement as they filed in with high hopes, and they waited with bated breath for the lights to go down. They were hoping for a very special show, and they were not disappointed.
As the music began, a spotlight came on in the center of the darkened stage, revealing a shirtless hunchback crouched over his jester's hat and scepter. As the light revealed his deformed body, one could easily believe that the singer himself bore a hunch, so flawless were his prosthetics. The rest of the costumes, as it soon became apparent, were no less well-done. The scenery, too, was masterfully constructed, and helped to set the mood perfectly in every scene. And without giving anything away, the audience was presented with a slightly unexpected take on the ending that was hair-raisingly effective.
Musically speaking, the overall performance was very good. There were a few opening night kinks that need to be worked out, such as several brief moments when the orchestra slightly overpowered the singers. These moments, however, were the exceptions in an otherwise brilliantly performed work. And while, at times, the tempo ran a bit faster than I personally prefer, it was more than made up for by the beauty and power of the singing.
The role of the Duke was sung by tenor Michael Fabiano, who makes his Florida Grand Opera debut with this production. He fit the character perfectly with his youth and dashing looks, and his portrayal of the callous young nobleman was a perfect blend of seductive charm and heartless indifference. Vocally, he gave an admirable performance, and while his was not always the largest of instruments, the beauty of his tone and brightness of his delivery made him an absolute pleasure to watch.

Baritone Mark Walters sang the part of the hunchback Rigoletto, a man torn by the double life he must lead in order to protect his daughter from the clutches of his hated employer, the womanizing Duke. He delivers a poignant, heart-rending performance that grips the viewer from almost the first note. Never before have I seen a Rigoletto who so effectively demonstrates the depths to which he is forced to stoop in the service of the Duke. His voice is warm, rich, and powerful, easily filling the farthest corners of the hall with his full, intense tones. Tender and loving one moment, bursting with rage the next, Mr. Walters created a powerful image of a man who will go to any lengths for his daughter.
And then there was Nadine Sierra, the soprano who sings the role of Rigoletto's innocent daughter Gilda. The South Florida native was the real star of the show, with a light, beautiful, yet strong voice that soared gracefully above the orchestra. Her delivery was nearly flawless and seemingly effortless. Her Caro Nome was charmingly playful and sweetly endearing, and her delicately gorgeous tones were an absolute joy to experience. Her final moments were filled with such tragic beauty that many in the audience were rendered speechless for quite some time after the final curtain.

Unfortunately, not all of the audience was rendered speechless during the actual performance. As wonderful as the performance was, I would be remiss in my report of the evening if I failed to mention that last night's audience contained some of the least considerate opera-goers I have ever seen. Aside from multiple conversations taking place in normal speaking voices during the music, no fewer than three cell phones rang in my general vicinity. Two of those phones rang during Caro Nome. One of those calls was actually answered, and the offender proceeded to carry on a phone conversation that lasted a good thirty seconds! During Caro Nome!!! I mean, this guy made the Marimba incident at the New York Philharmonic look like child's play!
But even that could not destroy the magic of the evening. Florida Grand Opera's Rigoletto is at once beautiful, powerful, and heartbreaking. The spell is cast the moment the music begins, and is not broken until after the final crashing notes. South Florida opera lovers, do not miss this one!

The swallow soars! La Rondine at Florida Grand Opera is a delight!

2012-01-22T12:31:00.001-05:00

Last night, Florida Grand Opera debuted La Rondine by Giacomo Puccini. The evening marked the first time the company has produced Puccini's eighth opera, one of Puccini's least-known works. La Rondine is performed so infrequently, in fact, that it was absent even from the stage of the Metropolitan Opera for 70 years. So we have been given a rare treat in the form of this delightful opera!
After composing several tremendously successful operas, Puccini began to search for new source materials. He was persuaded to write an opera in the style of Viennese operetta, and so La Rondine was born. While it was originally commissioned for Vienna's Carltheater, the outbreak of World War I forced the premiere to be moved to Monte Carlo. It was well-received by audiences and critics alike, but as time passed, its popularity waned. Today, the average opera-goer is usually only familiar with the famous aria, Ch'il bel sogno di Doretta.

La Rondine tells the story of a kept woman who meets and falls in love with a young man who has come to Paris. After calling on her protector, he is sent to a local cabaret to spend the evening. She later sneaks out, meets up with him there, and the pair move to the Riviera together. When he writes home and receives permission to marry her, however, she realizes that her past would prevent such a marriage. She reveals her true identity to him and returns to her protector in Paris, leaving him brokenhearted.
While La Rondine is rare for a Puccini opera in that nobody dies, Puccini (of course) couldn't leave well enough alone. An alternate ending has the young man leave her when he discovers her past, and she drowns herself in the sea rather than return to her old life. However, the first version is the most commonly accepted ending for the opera, and most productions end with every member of the cast still among the living.
Florida Grand Opera presents us with a sparkling, thoroughly charming production set in 1920s Paris, complete with a lively cabaret, vintage bathing costumes, and my personal favorite, lots of shiny stuff. The scenery was lovely, and very well done. While the dancing in Act II is integral to telling the story and setting the mood, however, I found it to be a bit too much. At times it seemed to almost distract me from what I was actually there for: the opera. At other times, though, I was completely caught up and swept away by the beauty of the music and the power of the principle singers.
The role of the young man, Ruggero, is sung by Portuguese tenor Bruno Ribeiro, who makes his Florida Grand Opera debut with this production. He has a lovely, lush voice that easily reaches the back of the house. He beautifully conveys the hopes and dreams of the young Ruggero, and when he is left alone at the end of the opera, the audience feels his heartbreak right along with him.

But the real star of the evening was Elizabeth Caballero, the Cuban soprano who sings the role of Magda, the "swallow" of the title who flies toward the sea to find love. She was charming, graceful, and full of playful energy. Her voice is rich and full, at times gentle and tender, and at times raw and torn with conflicting emotions. Her rendition of Ch'il bel sogno di Doretta is among the most beautiful I have heard, and it earned her much well-deserved, rather enthusiastic applause. Here she can be heard delivering this famous aria:

La Rondine was a new experience for me. I was unfamiliar with most of the opera, with the exception of one aria and a couple of duets. I was therefor not really sure what to expect. It is, after all, one of Puccini's least-successful operas, and I assumed there must be a good reason for that. Well, you know what they say about what happens when you assume. Anyway, I found that my assumptions were incorrect, and while the story didn't grip me in quite the same way that most Puccini operas do, the music was absolutely lovely, and the evening thoroughly enjoyable. I would strongly urge all lovers of grand opera to seize this rare opportunity and go to see La Rondine while they can. It may be many years before we are again given the chance to experience this uncommon yet splendidly delightful opera.

Opera-tune-ists: Giacomo Puccini

2012-01-19T13:27:00.001-05:00

Hello again, everybody. First off, apologies for the relative silence on here recently. Life does sometimes have a tendency to interfere with writing. But be that as it may, here I am once again, back with a new bit of opera chatter. And today, in celebration of Florida Grand Opera's opening of La Rondine this weekend, I will be writing about one of my favorite composers: Giacomo Puccini.

Now, anybody who knows anything about opera will tell you that Puccini was a genius. His operas are among the most frequently performed today. In fact, you may be hard-pressed to find a single opera company, anywhere in the world, that does not include at least one Puccini opera every season. But what is it that makes Puccini so popular? Is it his beautiful, soaring melodies? His incredibly romantic libretti? The intense, often heart-rending drama? Or is it the immediacy of his style, a style that often leads the viewer to forget that he or she is watching an opera rather than an action movie? Well, the simple answer is, "yes!" It is a bit of all of these, and every opera lover is drawn to a different element of his work. My husband, for example, was particularly impressed with Rodolfo's suave, poetic pickup lines. My brother blares Liu's delicate arias as he drives down the street with his windows open. And I hang on the edge of my seat for the entire second act of Tosca, even though I already know exactly what's going to happen. And when you put all of these elements together, the results are often magical!
When I decided to write about Puccini, I thought about what I might include here. Do I talk about his personal history? His influences? His wonderful music? After giving it some careful consideration, I decided to just start writing and see where it carries me. After all, that is precisely what his music does: it carries the listener off into the world of the opera. So I think that the best place to start, as an introduction to FGO's new production, is with the most well-known aria from La Rondine.

Okay, so here we have a beautiful aria. It demonstrates Puccini's status as a master of gorgeous melody. But what about the drama? What about the gut-wrenching, nail-biting action I spoke of? Well, here is the very scene I mentioned above, as sung by Bryn Terfel and Angela Gheorghiu.

And what of the poetry? The romantic lyrics? The beautiful words, and the music that reflects them? Puccini's operas are full of these gorgeously amorous moments, and who is better suited to demonstrate them than his very own poet?

So here we have some of the most essential elements of Puccini's work: beauty, passion, and drama. I know I really didn't get into those other things I mentioned, such as history and influence. But for me, Puccini has always been purely about the art. Any other discussion, to me, would be a distraction. When I watch Puccini, I want to close my eyes and enjoy every note. But I don't dare, because I don't want to miss a moment of what is happening on stage. I don't want to think; I want to be swept away! I want to be carried to 19th century Rome, or to Nagasaki, or to Peking! And therein lies the pure genius of Puccini: with a note, he can carry you to any one of those far-off places and times.
And on that note, (no pun intended,) I will leave you with one final aria to sweep you away.

Opera birthday parties? Why not?!?

2012-01-10T13:19:00.000-05:00

Hello again, everyone! Welcome back from a rather extended holiday break! The kids are all back in school now, and life can slowly start to return to normal. Today, I am going to continue on the subject of passing opera on to the next generation. I have heard a lot of chatter (or perhaps twitter?) over the last few weeks about ways to attract a younger audience. Most of the talk seemed to be centered around the idea of so-called Tweet Seats. While I very happily participated in last month's Tweet Seat session at Palm Beach Opera's Madama Butterfly, (a dress rehearsal, I should add,) I don't believe that simply letting people play on their phones during the performance is going to get them to want to attend. Rather, honest exposure, ideally at a young age, whether at home or in school, is the surest way to spark interest in opera.
This, of course, is in no way a new idea. I have said it before in previous posts, and I will doubtlessly say it again. But today I am going to write about a (brilliant?) idea I had about one way of doing this. Opera birthday parties!!! Now, I know some of you may be scratching your heads and thinking that I must be crazy, but just hear me out!

The idea came to me this morning, as I was trying to plan my son's ninth birthday party. I was looking online at all the different options available in the area: bowling, arcades, science museums, even the local animal shelter! There were a lot of venues offering sports parties, cooking parties, arts-and-crafts parties, and dance parties. And then it occurred to me: Why not do opera birthday parties? If one enthusiastic child chooses ten or twenty of his closest friends to share opera with, it could trigger a whole chain reaction of spreading an awareness (if not outright love) of opera to a group of children who might otherwise never give it a fair chance.
Now, how to do it? I had some ideas there, too. There are a couple of different options to be considered: the do-it-yourself party, which would require a bit of homework and planning on the part of the parents, and the party organized by a local opera company's Young Artists program, or some such organization. "But wait a minute," you might say. "There are no opera companies offering children's birthday parties!" And you would probably be right. But why shouldn't there be? After all, almost every other type of theater, museum, and miscellaneous entertainment outlet offers several party packages. And while I recognize that these other options may be more popular among children, it would be a wonderful experience for them if such a thing were available.

So here is what I propose to any opera company out there that may be reading this: give it a shot! If no one takes you up on it, what have you lost? And if they do, think of what you have gained: a doorway into the hearts of the next generation. So what might an opera company offer as part of a party package? Well, a package could include one or two young artists who would give a brief background of what opera is, followed by a short performance. These performances could range from some of the more action-packed scenes for boys' parties to the more romantic ones for the girls' parties, or any combination of the two. Afterwards, young party goers could be given the opportunity to participate in recreating the drama and singing the music. Fancy foods and Martinelli's sparkling cider served in plastic champagne flutes could be served to add a celebratory feel to the event. And at the end of the party, each child could go home with an opera-themed goody bag.
For the parents planning an opera party on their own, it might be a little trickier without the personal interaction with the singers and the hands-on music making. But again, a brief overview of opera could be given, followed by a showing of an opera on DVD. One possible opera to show a group of children who are new to it is Il Barbiere di Siviglia. Most of them will probably have heard at least some of the music, the story is highly entertaining, and there is nothing in it that any parent could possibly consider to be objectionable material. (Something like Tosca, on the other hand, might not go over so well with all of the parents.) After the performance, the children could be given an opportunity to talk about their impressions of what they have seen. Again, fancy foods and opera goody bags could tie the whole experience together.
Now, I'm not naive. I know something like this might take some time to catch on, or it may never catch on at all. But if nobody even tries, it certainly never will. And with opera audiences getting older, opera education in the classroom and at home at a low point, and opera companies around the world struggling to bring in young people, something must be done to ensure the continued survival of opera for the next generation. And what better way to pass it on than in a fun, exciting, and celebratory atmosphere? Today's children, who think they have seen everything, can go home from an opera party with memories of a new and thrilling experience, and a thirst to discover more.

Exploring Artists: Jonas Kaufmann

2011-12-21T15:20:00.000-05:00

I owe Jonas Kaufmann an apology. Anyone who has been following my blog from the start knows that, in the past, I have not been kind. When I first heard him, I did not like him at all. And it wasn't the depth or darkness of his voice. After all, I much prefer the darker tenor voices to the bright, sunny, cheerful-sounding ones. I would gladly listen to Domingo (my all-time favorite tenor) over Pavarotti (who I avoid in any role that isn't the Duke of Mantua) any day of the week. Among the newer generation of tenors, I favor those who have followed in Domingo's footsteps, and greatly appreciate the voices that have baritone qualities. So it was not the depth of his voice, although it did take me some time to become convinced that Kaufmann was not just a baritone trying to sing tenor roles. No, I thought his voice was somewhat muffled, as if he had something in his mouth. It may be that I had just found all the wrong YouTube videos, but there you have it. I couldn't, for the life of me, figure out what it was that everyone saw in him.

Then last month I went to see Tosca from the Royal Opera House at Cinema Paradiso, a lovely local art-house theater. I was hoping to be pleasantly surprised by him, but I wasn't expecting too much. I was going because I love Tosca, and because I was excited to see Bryn Terfel as Scarpia. I was really anticipating nothing more than a tolerable performance from Kaufmann. Harsh, I know, but there you have it. So when I did finally see his Cavaradossi, I was caught completely off guard. Not only did he sing the role very well, (second only to Domingo among all the Marios I have seen and heard,) he could ACT! I mean, really act. He seemed to really understand what the character was all about, and then adeptly conveyed that understanding to the audience.
After I saw that performance, I decided I was willing to give Kaufmann another chance. However, I approached his music slowly, and with some trepidation. And, while some of what I found did not impress me, a lot of it really did. I discovered that, although some roles really don't suit him (at least in my opinion), when he sings the right characters, he really is an exceptional singer. His voice has all the color of a baritone, yet he deftly handles the range of a tenor. This combination helps him provide a certain depth of character that is often missing from the tenor roles.

Jonas Kaufmann was born in Munich in 1969. While he studied piano and sang in the school choir as a child, he very nearly became a mathematician. However, he realized after a couple of semesters that he would never be happy with such a career choice. So he began his vocal training at the Academy of Music and Theatre in Munich, and upon graduation he signed a contract with the State Theatre in Saarbrücken. It was during that time that he began to have trouble with his voice, but under the instruction of Michael Rhodes, he learned to sing more easily by simply using his natural tone.

In the intervening years, Jonas Kaufmann has sung a wide variety of roles, from Rossini's Almaviva (this, I can't even imagine!) to some of the great Verdi and Puccini parts. He recently sang Siegmund at the Met, and has been applauded as an outstanding interpreter of Wagner's works. He is currently appearing, once again, on the stage of the Met, singing the title role in Gounod's Faust.

Jonas Kaufmann evokes strong reactions from opera lovers everywhere. People either love him or hate him. He is variably called the greatest tenor alive or a baritone in tenor's clothes. There's not a whole lot of middle ground where he is concerned. I used to be part of the group of people who strongly dislike him. But my opinion is changing. While he is still not my very favorite tenor in the world, (as I have said before, that spot will always be reserved for Domingo) I am beginning to develop an appreciation for his voice that grows every time I hear him. In a few short weeks, I have done a (somewhat) complete about-face. Whereas once I wondered what people saw in him, I now have come to enjoy his rich, dark voice. In time, I may become one of his die-hard fans. Then again, I may not. In the meantime, though, I plan on savoring his voice for its unique tones. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go listen to my new recording of Madama Butterfly, starring Jonas Kaufmann as Pinkerton!

Madama Butterfly flutters in to Palm Beach

2011-12-16T09:14:00.002-05:00

I have never been to the Palm Beach Opera before. Never made the one-hour drive (an hour and a half in traffic) north to the Kravis Center. That's partly because it's such a schlep. But it's mostly because, up until this season, I only knew about the Florida Grand Opera. I thought that, aside from the Met's Live in HD transmissions, that was all the opera we had here. (Don't get me wrong, though. I'm not complaining about either one of those.) Well, that's all changed now. Because on my journey to discover every last bit of opera in South Florida, I not only stumbled upon PBO and the wonderful season they have planned, I was fortunate enough to attend the final dress rehearsal of Madama Butterfly last night. And after that performance, I will not think twice before making the trek to West Palm Beach again.

Palm Beach Opera opens its 2011-2012 season tonight with Puccini's tragic masterpiece. Madama Butterfly, which premiered in 1904, is one of the most frequently performed operas today. Although it was originally composed in two acts, Puccini later revised it and divided the second act into two separate acts. It is the three-act version that is most commonly performed, although while some opera companies take a short intermission between Acts II and III, others present them both together. (PBO does the latter, and the effect is overwhelming. But more on that later.)
First, the set. The stage was very simple and uncluttered. The scenery consisted of sliding screens, as in most productions of Butterfly. But these screens were beautifully detailed, and provided a very authentic atmosphere. The costumes, too, were very beautiful, and the careful attention to detail, especially in mannerisms, all made it so real. But back to the setting. In the middle of this simple, beautiful Japanese home, Pinkerton arrived accompanied by a collection of American furnishings, and immediately set the tone for the rest of the opera. He very clearly had no respect for his Japanese hosts, and the incompatibility of the two cultures was subtly yet clearly portrayed with simple movements and gestures. For example, upon meeting Suzuki, he offered his hand to shake, and was startled when she did not accept, but rather responded with a bow. There was a complete disconnect between East and West, and it was played out perfectly throughout the entire performance.
Now the music. First of all, Palm Beach Opera has an excellent orchestra, and under the baton of Maestro Bruno Aprea, they played marvelously. Not once did I find myself thinking, as I often do during a performance, that a given passage should have been played faster or slower, louder or softer. It was, in other words, exactly how Madama Butterfly should be played, at least to my ears.
Next, the singers. The supporting cast were all very good. As this was a dress rehearsal, some of them chose not to sing at full volume. This was barely noticeable, however, as everything blended together so beautifully to really be almost perfect. The Bonzo, sung by Valentin Vasiliu, was particularly powerful, and Irene Roberts was absolutely lovely as Suzuki. The part of Sharpless was sung well by Michael Chioldi, and while at times I felt he could have put more power into it, I assume that he was simply preserving his voice for the weekend run.

Now, Pinkerton. For this production of Madama Butterfly, Palm Beach Opera has obtained two Pinkertons and two Cio-Cio-Sans, who will be singing on alternating nights. Tonight's Opening Night performance stars James Valenti as Pinkerton, and I was hoping to see him at last night's performance. It was not to be, and yet I was not disappointed. Rafael Davila, who will be performing on Saturday night, sang the role with such beauty and skill as to rival any other Pinkerton I have ever seen. His voice is full and bright, overflowing with amusement, yet softened with tenderness and touched with sorrow at all the right moments. He played the role with such callous nonchalance that, despite his wonderful singing, he elicited boos from the audience at the final curtain.
Next, Cio-Cio-San. Where to begin? First, Opening Night will star Maria Luigia Borsi. Last night, however, the beautiful Butterfly was sung by soprano Michele Capalbo, who will also be performing on Saturday night. And I'll tell you this: anyone attending that evening is in for a real treat. Beautiful, delicate, heartwrenching, and any other word you could associate with Butterfly could be applied to her performance. Her voice is powerful, yet exceedingly gentle and full of innocence. She floated gracefully through the opera, and one could almost believe, while watching her, that she really was the naive fifteen-year-old Geisha. She wrung tears from my eyes long before the full extent of the tragedy was known to her, and her final moments were simply devastating. Here she is, singing Un Bel Di from Act II.

And finally, little Dolore. The child was so beautiful, and played along charmingly. He played with the flower petals, wrapped himself in an American flag, and waited patiently for his father. After the performance, I learned that "he" was played by a little girl. Apparently they sit still and follow directions better than little boys do. (I don't know, my four-year-old boy would have probably been up for the task. He would come out, see the audience, realize he was in an opera, and burst out singing Ferrando... Oh, wait. That would be exactly what he's NOT supposed to do. So yeah, I guess little girls are better at following directions, after all.)
I left the Kravis Center choked up and with teary eyes. I drove home in silence, not wanting to ruin the effect of the evening, spending the hour-long drive reliving some of the most beautiful moments in my head. Madama Butterfly is one of my favorite operas, and Palm Beach Opera offers a moving, stunningly gorgeous performance. This is not one to miss, even if you do have to drive an hour and a half to get there. It is well worth the time.

Opera-tune-ists: Giuseppe Verdi

2011-12-07T21:18:00.003-05:00

First off, apologies for the horrendous pun. My brother came up with it, and it was just too awful not to use. I'll try not to subject you to too many more of them today. Secondly, today I'm introducing another new series to the South Florida Opera Scene. Opera-tune-ists, in case you haven't guessed, are composers. (You know, opera-TUNE-ists? Tune, get it? Oh, never mind.) Anyway, as with the Exploring Artists series, I will be starting with my favorite composers, and I will slowly work my way on to some that I may be less familiar with. With each composer, I'll start with a brief history, discuss some of his (or her) famous works, and touch on some more obscure compositions. And who knows? We might all discover something new from this!

Our first opera-tune-ist is Giuseppe Verdi, my absolute favorite composer. Verdi was born in 1813 in Le Roncole, a village located in the Duchy of Parma. He began his musical education in Busetto, but moved to Milan as a young man to complete his studies. His first opera, Oberto, was moderately successful when it premiered at La Scala in 1839. Un Giorno di Regno, his second opera, was his first attempt at a comedy. The opera, however, was a failure, due in part to the untimely deaths of his wife and two young children while he was writing it. After its premiere and subsequent cancellation, Verdi almost gave up composition, but fortunately for us, he agreed to write Nabucco, which skyrocketed him to fame. In the years after this success, Verdi composed many brilliant works, including his three most popular operas, Il Trovatore, La Traviata, and Rigoletto. After Aida, which premiered in 1871, Verdi took a sixteen year hiatus from composition, and did not produce another opera until 1887, when he unveiled Otello. His final opera, Falstaff, was a huge success when it premiered in 1893. In the intervening years before his death, he completed a handful of compositions that included the sacred work Stabat Mater. Verdi suffered a stroke on January 21, 1901, and died six days later.
During his lifetime, Verdi met many challenges to his work from the censors. Many of his libretti were considered too politically provocative, and names, ranks, and locations had to be changed before the operas were deemed acceptable. Verdi has been variably associated with the Risorgimento, and his name was adopted as an acronym for Vittorio Emanuele Re D'Italia. Following the unification of Italy, he served briefly as a member of the Chamber of Deputies, and was named a Senator of the Kingdom.
Verdi's music was greatly influenced by Bellini, Donizetti, Rossini, and Meyerbeer, but he succeeded in creating a sound that was entirely his own. Unlike many of his contemporaries, Verdi avoided any Wagnerian influence in all of his works except Otello. Here are three examples of Verdi's brilliance, taken from his early, middle, and late career.
Here is Ildar Abdrazakov as Oberto, from Verdi's first forray into the world of opera.

No discussion of Verdi would be complete without the Brindisi from La Traviata, so here it is with that Titan among tenors, Placido Domingo.

Okay, I lied. I will actually be sharing two examples from Verdi's middle career. I just couldn't bring myself to write about Verdi without including one of the greatest Verdi baritones, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, singing one of Verdi's greatest baritone roles. Now I agonized over whether to use Il Trovatore or Rigoletto, and Rigoletto almost won, but (I'm sure I've said this before) Il Trovatore is my very favorite, so how could I not choose it? Anyway, here is Dmitri Hvorostovsky singing the duet from Act IV with Sondra Radvanovsky.

And here is Verdi's late triumph, Otello, sung by the brilliant duo, Placido Domingo and Sherrill Milnes. Oh, and nice pants, Sherrill.

Okay, okay, I know I said only three videos, and I know I already added a fourth, but after all, I did say that I would include some works that were not so well-known. So here is Dmitri Hvorostovsky (again) in I Masnadieri. And a big thank you to our friend over at Dimaland for creating this beautiful video.

And on that note, I bid you all good night. Until next time!

Read along, sing a song!

2011-12-05T20:23:00.002-05:00

Happy Monday, everyone! Today I am going to continue on the subject of introducing opera to children. Over the weekend, I took my boys to a program at the public library, put on by Florida Grand Opera, that promotes literacy through the arts. The program, called "Read Along, Sing a Song", combines reading with song and dance, using music and movement to bring the story to life.
We got to the library a little early, and the kids passed the time by playing on the computers. (Remember the days when people went to the library to read?) When everything was set up, we went into the multipurpose room, and all the children congregated on the floor in the front row. The program began with a brief introduction to opera. While almost everyone there knew roughly what opera is, very few of them had ever experienced it before. So they got their first taste from soprano Kyaunnee Richardson, who sang the Doll Song from The Tales of Hoffmann. She invited the children from the audience to come up and press buttons on her dress and pull her finger (it's not as bad as it sounds) to make her move. I appologize for the poor video quality, but I was having camera issues (like having my husband do the filming).

The aria was very well received, and the children discussed the different things the doll did while she sang, noting that sometimes she needed to be wound back up. Then they all formed a circle, did some movement exercises, and experimented with an accordion. Then it was storytime. They read The Nutcracker and discussed their favorite parts. (Most said they liked the part about going to the Land of Sweets.) Then they broke out the hats, put on the music, and the fun really began. They performed the Spanish, Arabian, Chinese, and Russian dances, some of them timidly and others with reckless enthusiasm. Again, appologies for the video quality.

At the end of the program, each child was given his or her choice of an opera activity book. They were also given the opportunity to sign up for supernumerary auditions, for those moments when a non-singing, non-speaking child is needed. Naturally, my older son was first in line, throwing his fist in the air and shouting, "I'm in!" at the first mention of a chance to actually be in an opera. My four-year-old wanted to be in one, too, but he was expecting to be able to sing Ferrando from Il Trovatore. I only hope he's not too disappointed when he finds out he'll have to wait a few years for that, at least until his voice changes.

Anyway, the children all seemed to have a wonderful time, and it was apparent that a couple of them were particularly affected by the program. They seemed genuinely excited about opera, and were eager for more. And the good news is that, throughout the remainder of the season, there will be many more opportunities for these and other children in Broward and Miami-Dade counties to participate in these wonderful events. So whether the child in your life already knows and loves opera, or has never heard a note of it, I highly recommend attending one of these programs. You never know what it could lead to!

Exploring Artists: Dmitri Hvorostovsky

2011-11-30T19:03:00.001-05:00

And now, the moment you all didn't know you were waiting for! Announcing... drumroll, please... the new Exploring Artists series. Each installment will feature a single opera singer, well-known or not, and will spotlight his or her career and works. If you would like to see a specific singer featured, or if you are a singer yourself, and would like to be featured on Exploring Artists, please let me know! Otherwise, you'll just have to sit tight while I work my way through some of my favorites, which is how I will start, anyway.

The obvious choice to inaugurate the Exploring Artists series is my current musical obsession, the great Siberian baritone, Dmitri Hvorostovsky. Although I've known his name since I was sixteen years old, his voice is a relatively new discovery for me. I first heard of him on one of my many visits to a specialty music store in Eugene, Oregon, one of the few cities in the country able to support a store that sold opera almost exclusively. Anyway, I went in that day to pick up one of the Domingo recordings (probably Il Trovatore or Tosca) that I had special ordered. I glanced at the posters on the wall, as I always did, and there, between Placido Domingo and Yo Yo Ma, was this guy with this impossible name. I seem to recall that his hair was already quite noticeably whitening, but that could be my memory playing tricks on me. This was, after all, back in 1993 or 1994, and who can really accurately remember the details that far back? Anyway, I couldn't tell from the poster if he was a singer, a pianist, a conductor, or something else, and I didn't really pay too much attention. I was on a mission! My new Domingo CD was waiting!
Over the years, I would see his name in various places, on Opera's Greatest CDs, on upcoming performance mailings, and I'd think back to that day at Musique Gourmet and wonder again exactly how to pronounce that "hv". And yet, I never really heard him sing. Then earlier this year, my son and I went to see Il Trovatore from the Met Live in HD. It is my favorite opera, and Dolora Zajick was singing Azuchena, so I was really excited. I didn't know who else was singing, and I didn't care. I was expecting her to be the star of the show, as she always is in this role. But as amazing as her performance was, the spotlight was stolen from her by a silver-haired, velvet-voiced baritone. After almost twenty years, I had finally heard Dmitri Hvorostovsky. And I was hooked from the moment the words "tace la notte" left his lips. The notes he sang were so breathtakingly beautiful and powerful, and he played the role of di Luna with such passion that, for the first time in my life, I found myself sympathizing with the "evil" Count.

Well, I didn't sleep for many hours after that performance. I was up half the night, watching YouTube videos of this amazing artist. I saw him singing Rigoletto in concert, hunched over as he stood there on stage in his tux. I saw him transform almost instantly from the grim hunchback to the delightfully humorous Figaro. I saw him achieve the impossible feat of simultaneously singing both Don Giovanni and his servant, Leporello. And I saw him singing all the Russian songs I grew up listening to. And every performance was executed with such skill and beauty as to be virtually flawless! I was completely in awe of his voice, which is like intense dark chocolate (72% or higher), melted into a rich, creamy fondue sauce and drizzled over fresh strawberries, and of his *ahem* shall we say, somewhat above average looks. (My husband teases me mercilessly on that point, but he forgets that there's an incredible voice to go along with the pretty face!)
So what's a (at the time) college girl who's sick of researching vascular diseases supposed to do at eleven o'clock on a work night? More research, of course! So I quickly set about learning everything I could about this glorious singer, and here's a bit of what I found.
Dmitri Hvorostovsky was born in Krasnoyarsk, Siberia, where he studied music from a young age. After winning several national competitions, he entered the Cardiff Singer of the World competition in 1989, where he famously beat Welsh bass-baritone Bryn Terfel in the almost legendary "battle of the baritones". Choosing a single aria to post from that performance was very difficult, but while I prefer his Eri Tu, I selected this because it so beautifully demonstrates his unbelievable breath control.

Anyway, his career exploded literally the next day. He had recording contracts and bookings with the great opera houses and concert halls the world over. Over the years, he has performed a wide range of roles, ranging from Tchaikovsky to Mozart to Verdi. His portrayal of Rigoletto is at once fierce and tender, full of love for his daughter and hatered for everyone else. He is the definitive Eugene Onegin, and once I saw him performing opposite Renee Fleming, no other baritone would do for the role.  The glimpses he has given us of his Iago, which I hope we will soon have the pleasure of witnessing in its entirety, are spine-chillingly evil. And as I'm sure I mentioned before, his di Luna changed my whole perspective of Il Trovatore.
In addition to his fully-staged operatic performances, Mr. Hvorostovsky is a celebrated recitalist and concert performer.  Every year he travels the world, singing not only opera favorites, but also Neapolitan and Russian songs, and he has even collaborated with the popular Russian composer Igor Krutoy. He is currently wrapping up a tour of Russia, and will be returning to the stage of the Met twice over the next few months, first in Ernani and then in La Traviata. His next recording to be released is a CD of Rachmaninov romances, published under the Ondine label, which will be available sometime in January 2012.

As some of my South Florida readers may already know, Mr. Hvorostovsky has graced Miami with his presence on several occasions. Alas, his appearances in the Sunshine State all took place before I really discovered him, and so I have missed out on these wonderful experiences. I have heard a rumor that he will be returning in the near future, but I have been unable to verify it, so I will say no more on the subject other than that as soon as I know anything, you'll know, too. And when that does happen, you can bet I will make every effort to be first in line for tickets. Never again will I miss an opportunity to see him perform.

Bravo, Luisa Fernanda! Florida Grand Opera's first zarzuela is a gem!

2011-11-24T23:55:00.002-05:00

Last night I had the pleasure of attending a performance of Luisa Fernanda at the Florida Grand Opera. This was my first experience with zarzuela, and after I saw the previews, I was really looking forward to it. I had a very charming date for the evening, in the form of my eight-year-old son. I wasn't sure whether he would want to go, or if he would enjoy it, since he didn't know the story or any of the music yet, and (obviously) would not be able to ask me questions during the show. However, he very eagerly accepted the offer, got dressed up in his suit and tie, and excitedly counted off the miles on the drive down to Miami.

Since Luisa Fernanda was new to both of us, we had intended to arrive early enough to attend the pre-performance lecture. Unfortunately, last-minute pre-Thanksgiving grocery trips were necessary before we set out, and by the time we arrived, it had already begun. We were, however, early enough to leisurely explore the opera house and browse the books and CDs offered for sale before we found our seats. After I showed him around, we entered the auditorium with plenty of time to spare, set down our programs, and went to have a look in the orchestra pit. My son was immediately drawn to the woodwind section, and quickly struck up a conversation with the bassoonist. The bassoon has always fascinated him, as I played it throughout my youth and often draw his attention to it when it can be picked out from the rest of the orchestra.
When it was almost curtain time, we returned to our seats and went over the synopsis. Then the lights went down, the conductor came out, and the fun began. First of all, the music was absolutely delightful. The melodies were at once beautifully stirring and charmingly captivating, and I found myself smiling throughout the entire evening. It has been many years since I last attended an opera of which I didn't already know almost every note, but I found that it really didn't matter. The music felt familiar, as though I had known it for years, and I was quickly swept away by it. Beside me, my son was sitting in open-mouthed wonder, applauding enthusiastically at every full stop and marveling at the beauty of the voices.
Ah, those voices! Every single one of them was gorgeous. Antonio Gandia, the tenor who sings the role of Javier, has a beautifully lush, smooth voice. And while at one or two moments early in the performance it seemed to me that he might not have the strength to project over the full orchestra, as the evening progressed, he quickly disproved that initial impression. He sang with such a rich warmth that at times, his voice seemed to fill the entire stage with dazzling light.
Amparo Navarro gave a stunningly moving performance as Luisa. Her voice was full and smsooth, and the melodies seemed to flow from her mouth with ceaseless beauty. Davinia Rodriguez gave a flawless performance as Carolina, both vocally and dramatically.
Among all these wonderful performances, the real star of the show was Angel Odena, the baritone who sings the role of Vidal. I admit to being particularly partial to baritone voices, but because of this, I am perhaps more demanding of them than of any other male voice. That being said, I was very impressed. Odena's voice was rich, velvety, warm, full, and it was just dark enough to paint an effective portrait of Vidal's personality. It was a joy to listen to him sing, and I found myself at times just closing my eyes and getting lost in the sound of his voice.

Visually, the production was stunning. The scenery, which was almost completely white set against black, was very crisp, clean, and refreshing. The costumes were also all either white or black, and the resulting combination was very striking. There were lovely dance numbers at several points during the opera, and during one of these in the second act, I looked over at my son and saw his mouth hanging open in gleeful awe. He had never seen anything quite so beautiful before that wasn't on a television screen.
All in all, it was a truly wonderful performance. As we left the opera house, my son turned to me and asked me to buy him a DVD of Luisa Fernanda. (He also used some not-so-age-appropriate language to describe how amazing the whole thing was, but that's beside the point.) It was a perfect production of a delightful opera, and it was a wonderful introduction to the world of zarzuela.

Flash mob, everyone!

2011-11-21T21:43:00.001-05:00

Imagine you're in line at the supermarket. Suddenly, the guy in front of you starts singing to the lady bagging his groceries, and what do you know, she starts singing back! "Holy cow!" you think to yourself, moments before you notice that the guy in the next checkout lane, the lady three places behind you in line, and that couple over there in the produce aisle are all singing, too! Well, last night I was playing around on Stumble Upon, when I, um, stumbled upon (imagine that!) this video:

Quite aside from the lovely performance itself, the reactions of the other shoppers were very interesting to see. There were, of course, a few people in the crowd who did their best to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was going on. They kept their headphones in their ears, paid for their groceries, and left with averted eyes. But they were the minority. As the camera panned around the store, I watched the various expressions of surprise and delight cross the faces of the many customers, young and old. They were sharing the wonderful experience of opera with complete strangers, most of them probably for the first time, and the result was almost magical!
This got me thinking. There are so many people out there who have never experienced opera, and in the normal course of life, probably never will. Most people who don't alreaky know and love opera are not likely to go out and buy a ticket to a performance on their own, without any sort of external push. You know, Newton's first law of motion. An object will persist in its state of being at rest or in motion, unless acted upon by an external force... Sorry, I digress. Anyway, my point is this: an event like this just might be that external force needed to alter the inertia... ahem... I mean, to pique public interest in opera.
So after I saw this video, I wanted more. I wanted to find other examples of opera ambushes, as they are sometimes called. I found that various organizations and opera companies often arrange similar events, whether to promote an upcoming performance or just to bring a bit of culture to the unsuspecting public. These events, also variably called pop-up opera and Opera Anywhere, have been put together in such places as shopping malls, restaurants, transit stations, public markets, and even college cafeterias!

One organization of note puts on what it calls "random acts of culture." These events range from opera to jazz to "impromptu" orchestras. And several South Florida locales have played host to these random acts. Earlier this year, shoppers at the Aventura mall were treated to a grand-scale performance of O Fortuna from Carmina Burana. Travelers at Miami International Airport were surprised with a brass quintet rendition of West Side Story. And if you happened to be trying on ladies' shoes in Macy's at Dadeland Mall at just the right time, you might have seen this:

These wonderful surprise performances do much more than provide brief entertainment for people passing through on their day-to-day business. They raise awareness of the arts, and offer an introduction to opera to anyone fortunate enough to be there. They bring joy to people of all ages, from the older audience members who may already be familiar with the music, to the young adults who may have never really noticed before, and especially to the children hearing it for the first time. For them, these performances are precious gifts, paving the way for a lifetime love of opera.

Opera in London, without the plane ticket!

2011-11-16T21:12:00.003-05:00

Last night I had a truly wonderful experience. I attended a performance of Tosca, sung on the stage of the Royal Opera House by Jonas Kaufmann, Angela Gheorghiu, and Bryn Terfel. I got dressed up, went to the theater, picked up my tickets, settled down in my seat, and looked around the opera house. The lights went down, the conductor came out, and the music began. It was the most incredible Tosca I have ever seen, and believe me when I say I have seen a lot of Toscas. And here's the thing: I didn't even have to cross the Atlantic to see it! It was broadcast on the screen of Cinema Paradiso in Fort Lauderdale as part of Emerging Pictures' Opera in Cinema series.
First, a couple of words on the performance itself. As I have said before, I have seen and heard many Toscas, live and recorded, on TV, in the theater, and in the second row of the Met, in the days of the Zefferelli production. This one easily beat them all dramatically, and probably even musically. Bryn Terfel, of course, was no surprise to me. If you have read my previous post on the many portrayals of Scarpia, you know that I had high expectations for him. I was not disappointed. He took every subtle difference that many singers have brought to the role, and managed to combine them so perfectly, and then to add a bit of his own flavor, that one might say he didn't play the part of Scarpia at all; he WAS Scarpia. Opposite him, Angela Gheorghiu played Tosca admirably. Her singing was beautiful, and my trepidation about her dramatic abilities (after seeing her performance with Raimondi) was quickly put to rest. The real surprise of the evening, at least for me, was Jonas Kaufmann. I had previously only seen YouTube clips of him in concert, usually opposite Dmitri Hvorostovsky, and I didn't like him. I thought his voice sounded muffled, and I wondered what everyone else seems to see in him. I did not have high expectations for him at all. So I was completely blindsided and totally blown away when he not only acted it better than anyone I have ever seen, but also sang it so incredibly that his performance was second only to Domingo. While I still think his pianos were at times a little muddy, at full volume his voice was so rich and warm that I am ready to search out as many of his other performances as I can find. Also worth mentioning was the supporting cast, particularly the Sacristan, who played the role with just the right amount of humor to be positively delightful.
Now on to the Opera in Cinema program. We all know about the Met Live in HD transmissions. They are well-publicized, and are available in about two dozen theaters in the South Florida area. Most people, however, have never even heard of Opera in Cinema, which brings performances from such great venues as the Royal Opera House, La Scala, the Salzburg Festival, and the Liceu in Barcelona. I only found out about it because, as a diehard Hvorostovsky fan (in case you couldn't tell), I was desperately searching for a theater that was showing Faust from the ROH. I eventually found two, Cosford Cinema in Miami and Cinema Paradiso in Fort Lauderdale, but ultimately I missed both showings. However, in the process, I discovered that there is so much more opera available to us here than I ever imagined. (This, incidentally, is how I came about creating this blog in the first place.) And while I am still working on updating the calendar past December, I can tell you that there is no shortage of performances to carry us through the opera season.

Last night was my first time at Cinema Paradiso. I arrived less than ten minutes before the performance began, stressed as I always am when I get stuck in traffic on my way to the opera. But as soon as I stepped through the front door, I immediately began to relax. The theater has such a warm, inviting feel, and the attendees all seemed to know each other. It was like sharing the performance with an extended family. The seats were very comfortable, and the view was unobstructed. Champaign and hors d'oeuvres were served during intermission, and everywhere I turned, I heard people discussing this and other performances. It was a truly special evening, as it brought together spectacular opera and a wonderful community of opera lovers. I will definitely be back, and I eagerly look forward to sharing the experience with as many of my friends and family as possible!

Hook 'em while they're young!

2011-11-14T22:03:00.001-05:00

I consider myself very lucky. I discovered opera at a young age, long before I was aware of all the negative stereotypes associated with it. Long before I knew it was "uncool", or even that anything could be uncool, I was listening to the gorgeous sounds of Bizet, Verdi, and Puccini. Long before I knew that my musical preferences would be scrutinized by my adolescent peers, my my love of opera was cemented in my heart.
My parents exposed me to a very broad range of musical styles almost from the day I was born. Irish music and Highland bagpipes were a staple in our home. My mother played me music from all over the world, ranging from klezmer to Russian folk songs, bluegrass to Indian sitar. And, of course, she played classical music. My father played the Grateful Dead and Pink Floyd. So by the time I was nine years old, I was very open to any new music, as long as it wasn't pop.
One evening back in 1987, my mother put down the TV Guide, sat me on the couch, and turned on PBS. We were going to try something new! I really had no idea what to expect, but within minutes I was lost in the now-familiar notes of the overture to Carmen. I don't remember much about that evening, but I went to school the next day singing all these wonderful songs I had heard for the first time the night before. That evening changed my life. I began listening to as much opera as I could, and I attended my first live performance at age eleven.
Let's jump forward a couple of decades, now. I have two young boys, ages four and eight. Our morning drive to school usually starts like this:
Me: OK kids, what do you want to listen to today?
4 year old: Eugene Onegin!
8 year old: No, my favorite Russian songs! (Dmitri Hvorostovsky, of course!)
4 year old: Il Trovatore!
8 year old: No, Tosca!
By this point, I've managed to make it out of the neighborhood without crashing the car. Once we've settled on something, the conversation continues.
4 year old: (Singing)
8 year old: Stop singing! I can sing it better!
Me: So let me hear both of you!
4 year old: (Singing)
8 year old: Stop singing!
No one else in either of their classes has car rides quite like this, as far as I know. But I wouldn't have it any other way. I began playing opera for them in utero, and didn't stop when they were born. I took my eldest to his first live performance, Aida, two months before he turned four. He knew most of the music before we went, and was totally engrossed throughout. (I only learned of the "no children under six" rule during intermission, but he behaved very well, and I only had to remind him once, during the Triumphal March, not to sing along to himself.) My younger one has yet to attend, partially because he is so curious about everything that, even when watching something he has seen a dozen times, we're lucky if he goes a full two minutes without asking a question. But at home, at least once a week I put something on the Met Player, and they're both glued to the TV for the rest of the evening.
As much as my children love opera, they are already beginning to hear things like "opera sucks" from their peers. Their teachers are unfamiliar with it, and show no interest when they express their enthusiasm. The other children around them, at best, have never been exposed to opera, and at worst, have inherited their parents' negative opinions about it without ever getting the chance to experience it for themselves. And yet, the minute any opera singer joins a competition such as America or Britain's Got Talent, the audience goes wild. People are starving for opera, and they don't even realize it.
So when is the right time to give it to them? Certainly, better late than never. Friends at work occasionally surprise me when they say things like, "I wish I knew you were going to the opera last night! I've always wanted to give it a try!" Once they have expressed an interest, I go out of my way to try to give them a proper introduction. Many of them have simply never had the opportunity extended to them, and have therefore missed out on a lifetime of enjoyment. Which leads me to the answer to the above question: as soon as possible!!!

The next question, then, is how to give it to them. You could, of course, do it the way my parents did for me, and I did for my children: give it to them straight, from an early age, and watch them lap it up. In recent years, though, more opportunities are being presented by opera companies everywhere to introduce children to opera. For instance, the Metropolitan Opera Guild offers hands-on opera workshops to children ages five to eight, as well as school programs that enable children across the country to experience opera in the classroom and on the big screen. The Opera Theatre of Saint Louis offers an opera summer camp for young children. And the Florida Grand Opera offers programs for elementary, middle school, and high school aged children, including classroom visits, presentations that explore both the vocal and technical aspects of opera production, dress rehearsal tickets, and a mentoring program to help guide aspiring artists on the path to careers in opera. Additionally, many programs are offered in public libraries from coast to coast.
But regardless of how it is done, when opera is presented to children, they usually respond enthusiastically. It's easy for them to get caught up in the drama, the action, and of course, the music. Sometimes, that enthusiasm sticks with them, opening all sorts of doors to the many wonders of opera. Sometimes that first operatic experience captures the imagination of a young child, changing the way he or she looks at music forever.
Perhaps one day I'll pull up to a traffic light, windows down, and hear the children in the next car arguing over whether they should listen to Turandot or Rigoletto. My eight-year-old just might lean his head out the window and shout, "Neither! Don Giovanni!"

Special delivery: From Madrid to our doorstep!

2011-11-10T21:37:00.001-05:00

This Saturday, Florida Grand Opera will open its 2011-2012 season with its first-ever zarzuela, Luisa Fernanda, and will be joined on November 15, for one night only, by the legendary Placido Domingo. For many opera lovers, myself included, zarzuela is a new experience. I, of course, have for years heard it described simply as "Spanish musical theater", but I just left it at that and never learned anything more about it. Italian Romantic opera was always my favorite when I was growing up, and Verdi and Puccini were usually what I put on when I didn't really know what to put on. Over the years, I also made occasional forrays into French, Russian, Czech, (I was lucky enough to see Renee Fleming in Rusalka relatively early in her career), and yes, even occasionally that frightening (at least to me) territory of German opera. The operettas of Gilbert and Sullivan have always been a delightful source of entertainment when I wanted something more lighthearted and comical. And yet, somehow, I managed to overlook Spanish-language works. Maybe it's because, at least during the years I lived in those places, the Seattle Opera, Eugene Opera, and the Metropolitan Opera never performed any zarzuela.
So I decided to do a little research. I started with the words of Maestro Domingo himself, who described it thus: "Zarzuela is a traditional Spanish musical genre that is frequently compared to the works of Gilbert and Sullivan and the Viennese operettas of Johann Strauss." Okay, this is already starting to sound good. Then I tracked down a synopsis of the plot, which I will not give away here, other than to say that there is, of course, the requisite love triangle. And then I found the videos, and in the process, I found something new to love. The music is beautiful and absolutely delightful! Here is the "teaser trailer" for Luisa Fernanda, and okay, so I lied, I guess it does give away at least part of the plot.

Luisa Fernanda lies outside my realm of familiarity, and so I very nearly overlooked it again. That would, indeed, have been a shame, because a whole new door of operatic bliss has been opened for me. This is one production that I definitely do not want to miss!

Weekly Schedules

2011-11-09T22:30:00.000-05:00

Hello, everyone. This is just a quick note to let you know that, starting this weekend, I will be posting weekly event schedules. These will include details about live performances, as well as Opera in Cinema and Met Live in HD transmissions. That's all. First schedule update will be posted on Sunday morning. Have a great weekend!

The many faces of Scarpia

2011-11-06T07:39:00.114-05:00

Next week, the Royal Opera House in London will be broadcasting Puccini's great opera Tosca through Emerging Pictures' Opera in Cinema program. While some critics called it a "shabby little shocker" at its premiere,today Tosca is largely considered one of the greatest operas ever composed. In fact, to some, it represents what opera is all about. Basically, it has it all: love, hate, lust, torture, murder, deceit, jealousy, political intrigue, and some of the most beautiful music you will ever hear. For all this, any production can be made or broken by the right (or wrong) cast. It goes without saying that in any opera, the principles have to be able to sing well. And for some operas, that's really enough: good acting isn't mandatory for it to work. But for certain operas, no matter how pretty the music may sound, if the singers can't portray the characters' personalities effectively, the audience won't believe it. Tosca is one of those operas, and of particular importance are the roles of Tosca and Scarpia. You can have a bland Cavaradossi and still be okay, but the other two determine whether the performance sizzles or fizzles.

This particular production stars Angela Gheorgheu as the diva Floria Tosca, Jonas Kaufmann as her lover, the painter and revolutionary Mario Cavaradossi, and Bryn Terfel as the evil Baron Scarpia. Scarpia is one of that rare breed of truly evil operatic characters, as opposed to all those "villains" who are just a bunch of guys reacting poorly to their circumstances. And every baritone who has ever sung Scarpia casts that evil in a different light. Subtle differences in singing and acting styles change the whole character and his motivations. For example, Tito Gobbi, who was arguably one of the greatest Scarpias of all time, played him as so purely evil that he thought himself untouchable. He knew he was bad, and he seemed to enjoy every minute of it. Sherrill Milnes' Scarpia was ruthlessly cold and subtly calculating. No big, overexaggerated grabby motions from him. He was in control, and could afford to take his time and enjoy the hunt. Ettore Bastianini only sang the role a handful of times, and unfortunately there is very little available by way of video, but he is reputed to have played a very dark, dangerous, yet very attractive Scarpia. And then, on that note, there is Dmitri Hvorostovsky. While we have as yet only heard the Te Deum from him, when he does finally take on the role, I think we can expect a deliciously sensual, yet wholly evil, Scarpia. Such a performance will, no doubt, leave many women in the audience furious with Tosca for dispatching this sinister villain.
While I would love to include several dozen video clips of various Scarpias, I've managed to pare the list down to just a handful. Here are four Scarpias singing the Te Deum from Act I, each providing a different flavor for the character. We'll start with Cornell Macneil, whose Scarpia is pure, unadulterated evil.

Up next is Rugerro Raimondi, whose many brilliant portrayals of Scarpia each differ from the next. In this performance, taken from the on-location film also starring Placido Domingo and Catherine Malfitano, he shows himself to be so drunk with power that he is almost in awe of it.

In the Metropolitan Opera's new production, George Gagnidze plays Scarpia as somewhat of a twisted pervert. As I watched his performance, I could almost see the slime oozing out of every pore in his body!

And finally, here's a taste of what we might expect next week from Bryn Terfel. Please excuse the expression, but he is badass! Terfel's Scarpia is mean, and he enjoys bullying everyone around him. I think we are in for a real treat!

Siegfried: Not to be missed (or is it?)

2011-11-02T11:41:00.002-04:00

To go, or not to go, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous Wagner,
Or to take arms against operatic pressure
And by staying home... well, miss it.

The great composer Giaochino Rossini once said of his esteemed colleague, "Wagner has some good moments, but some bad quarters of an hour." Others, however, (himself included,) hail him as the greatest composer who ever lived. Certainly, he had a great influence on most music that came after him, and particularly on the development of verismo opera. Basically, people either love him or hate him. Period, end of story. There is no middle ground. Either he is the genius who revolutionized the use of harmony,tonality, and leitmotifs, or he's the guy who pierces our eardrums with the stereotypical sopranos in horned helms.

But love him or hate him, Wagner's Ring cycle is an event that every opera lover must experience at least once in his or her lifetime. And only once, if they fall into the second category. Nobody should be forced to go through that a second time. I put in my time when I was 14 years old, at the Seattle Opera, which is famous for its Ring cycles. It was an exciting experience: all the drama and action, and the sheer grand scale of it all. However, (in case you couldn't already tell,) I'm one of those people whose opinion about Wagner falls into that second category. Maybe it's because I haven't really taken the time to get to know the music better. Or maybe because it really does make one's eardrums bleed. Either way, I was not planning on going to see the Met's HD broadcast. I already missed last season's transmissions of Das Rheingold and Die Walkure, and I was not too distraught about that.
But then I saw the casting. One word: perfect. Siegfried is sung by Jay Hunter Morris, and I can't imagine anyone looking the part more.

Deborah Voigt is Brunnhilde, and she is also perfect for the role. And then there's Bryn Terfel as the Wanderer. I could almost believe that Wagner had him in mind when he conceived the character. I was blown away when I saw the YouTube clips of him in Die Walkure. He almost made me want to watch the whole thing. All four operas. From start to finish. All fourteen hours, plus intermissions. Wait, fourteen hours of this?!? Really??? I'd have to be crazy to do that!
Seriously, though, this production looks absolutely brilliant, for what it is. I know that doesn't sound too enthusiastic, but hey, I'm trying here. I may just bite the bullet and go to see this. Then again, I may not. I'll let you know.

Phantoms of the operas! Ghost scenes for Halloween.

2011-10-31T11:55:00.002-04:00

Opera is full of the supernatural. Stages are haunted by devils, demons, witches, and ghosts. Dissonant chords and eerie instrumentation often accompany these spirits, creating a creepy, spooky atmosphere. These moments add a chillingly exciting dimension to the already often-hair-raising art that is opera. For Halloween, I pulled together a few ghost scenes for your enjoyment.

Let's start off with MacBeth. The new king has had his best friend murdered, only to have his ghost (who no one else can see) turn up in the middle of a banquet. There really is no surer way to spoil a party! Of course, everyone around him thinks he has simply lost his mind.

Next up, The Queen of Spades. In this scene, the ghost of the Old Countess appears to a restless Hermann, and seeking revenge, tells him the secret of the winning cards. That doesn't really end up working out too well for him in the end, though.

The Turn of the Screw is a straight-up ghost story from start to finish. Here is a taste of bits and pieces of the whole opera:

And finally, what post about operatic ghosts would be complete without the Commendatore scene from Don Giovanni? There really is nothing I can say about this except watch and enjoy!

Happy Halloween!

Bolshoi: A grand performance!

2011-10-29T13:07:00.004-04:00

Hi, everyone! First off, I'm sorry I didn't get this up sooner. I wanted to do it the moment I finished watching the performance. Alas, I have to occasionally spend some time doing other things besides sitting around watching and writing about opera. But be that as it may, here goes. In short, it was a spectacular event! The theater is beautiful, and the dimensions are staggering:

After a few minutes of opening remarks from Medvedev and shots of the auditorium, the curtain opened.... to several dozen construction workers with noisy machinery working on renovations! Well, those construction workers turned out to be members of the chorus and orchestra, and they burst into Glinka's "Glory to the Russian People!" The performance continued with an all-Russian program of opera, ballet, and various other orchestral and choral works. At times during the evening (or morning, for us) the music would stop completely and we would be treated to various fully-staged street views of the theater from several points in its history. And then there was the ballet. Ballet doesn't usually do much for me, and at times I found my attention wandering from it. But at others... There was a beautifully elegant performance from Swan Lake, and the Polovetzian Dances from Prince Igor were a joy to watch. And finally, the opera. First of all, no Placido Domingo. I guess squeezing a night in Moscow in between two nights in London would have been too much even for him. The soprano bits were lovely but unmemorable, with Angela Gheorghiu, Natalia Dessay, and Violeta Urmana all giving nice enough performances. I am pretty new to Russian opera, though, and I wasn't really familiar with anything they sang. In fact, where Russian opera is concerned, I pretty much know Eugene Onegin and Prince Yeletsky's aria from The Queen of Spades. Oh, but what an aria! Performed, of course, by none other than the great Siberian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky. I could go on about the rich, velvety voice, but I'd rather just share the moment we were all (or at least, I was) waiting for:

The evening finished off with nearly every singer and dancer on the stage for Tchaikovsky's Coronation March. It was a truly grand event, and we were very fortunate to have the opportunity to participate!

This Sunday: Carmen at La Scala, coming to a theater near you!

2011-10-28T08:42:00.003-04:00

Okay, this is the first of two posts I will be sharing today. The second will come after I have watched the Bolshoi Gala. In the meantime, here is a brief look at what we can expect from La Scala's broadcast of Carmen, which we can see on Sunday at noon at the University of Miami's Cosford Cinema. This production stars Anita Rachvelishvili, Jonas Kaufmann, Erwin Schrott, and Adriana Damato. I really haven't heard much at all from Rachvelishvili, Schrott, or Damato yet, so I'm not sure what to expect from them. Now, Kaufmann. I know I am going to make some people upset, and I have yet to see him in a complete opera, but from what I've heard so far, I just don't like him. I think he would have made a splendid baritone, but to me, as a tenor his voice sounds muffled. I keep trying to see what everyone else seems to see in him, but I haven't found it yet. I have heard, however, that he does a very good Don Jose, so I will reserve judgement until I have seen it. In the meantime, here is Rachvelishvili singing the Habanera in Salerno.