Wagner’s Der fliegende Holländer, new at the Met

The Metropolitan Opera’s new production of Der fliegende Holländer, as conceived by François Girard, captures much of the dark mystery of the opera by using modern technology to the fullest. The overture and especially the final scene of the opera are awhirl with waves and storm clouds, courtesy of projections designed by Peter Flaherty and lighting designed by David Finn. They, along with Girard, debuted with the new Met production of Parsifal in 2013. I loved the dark shadows and the clouds then and again now: atmospherically, this Holländer is mostly superb.

Final scene of Der fliegende Holländer: Senta and the Dutchman are soul mates

Anja Kampe, as Senta, sings her Ballad

This production is special, too, because of its Senta, the emotional center of the drama. German soprano Anja Kampe, here in her debut season, is ample in voice, sporting a rich, full, often gleaming instrument. Her stage presence draws our attention in a staging that seems to put a lot of space between characters. Welcome Anja, brava!

Evgeny Nikitin is the Dutchman

The Dutchman is taken by the Russian bass-baritone Evgeny Nikitin, whose contributions to the German and Russian repertory at the Met are broad and always solid. His is the voice type for the darker characters, his Klingsor in Girard’s Parsifal being a case in point. Here the Dutchman seems always at a distance, at one point in the final scene just quietly watching Erik spilling his grief to Senta from across the Met’s wide stage.

German basso Franz-Josef Selig is a positive, not to say jovial Daland (Senta’s father), Mihoko Fujimura is a strict, no nonsense Mary. Tenor Sergey Skorokhodov as Erik gives a most passionate performance, raising our sympathies for his character. David Portillo is a youthful Steersman.

As in all of his early operas Wagner gives much rein to the chorus. Holländer is a case in point: Daland’s crew, their sweethearts back home, and the phantom crew of the Dutchman’s ship are well represented under Donald Palumbo, Chorus Master. As in Girard’s Parsifal, the chorus members are constantly moving, hunching here, fiddling with ropes there, spinning not sails but heavy ropes for the anchors, I suppose, all under choreography of Carolyn Choa. In a way, their movements offset the stasis of the main characters.

Valery Gergiev is no stranger to Wagner at the Met, at home, and throughout the world. He brings out the elements, both of nature and of humans, in this early score, never rushed, but never sagging. Bravo!

Daland and the crew look on as the Dutchman approaches the ship

As found in his Parsifal production, Girard and his team create absorbing and enhancing scenic effects. During the stormy overture an enraptured Senta, alone on the strand at night, communes with the spiritual
force of the Dutchman. He, she feels, is destined to rescue her from the everyday world. Alison Clancy, the dancer in Senta’s red dress, swirls and twists in center stage to Carolyn Choa’s choreography. Effective, but the overture is around eleven minutes long, the point is made early on, then again and again, even though the music of the overture introduces other participants in the drama, Daland’s cheerful sailors, for instance. The opera begins with Daland’s ship coming to a safe haven from the storm, the crew on the strand securing the ropes. Effective entrance! But the arrival of the Dutchman’s ship, an orchestrally bigger moment, is a non-event on stage. Is the phantom ship also invisible? The Dutchman himself merely walks (across the water?) to the rocks at the edge of the orchestra pit where he’ll stand and sing until the scene changes to Act II. As the action is staged, the intensity of the interpersonal relationships are often diffused by the great expanse of the Met’s stage.

Senta is drawn into the Dutchman’s gaze

Review Performance: March 6, 2020, the 161st at the Met.

Photos by Ken Howard

Wagner’s Der fliegende Holländer, as written, is in three acts, but performed as one single act without intermission. It runs two hours and 30 minutes.

Barring closures due to the coronavirus outbreak*, Der fliegende Holländer will appear on the Met stage again on the evenings of March 18, 21, 24, and 27, with a matinee on Saturday, March 14. For ticket information or to place an order, please call (212) 362-6000 or visit www.metopera.org. Special rates for
groups of 10 or more are available by calling (212) 341-5410 or by visiting www.metopera.org/groups.

The Met’s matinee performance of Der fliegende Holländer on March 14 will be telecast live in HD to theaters worldwide and radio broadcast or streamed via various media. It will also be encored in some locations. Information about HD venues, operas, dates, times, casts, and tickets can be found on the
Metropolitan Opera website www.metopera.org. This performance is broadcast on Sirius XM and, locally, the New York metropolitan area, I mean, on WQXR 105.9 FM.

The Met canceled these listed performances the day after I posted the review. It was a necessary decision, given the reality of the spreading virus, but a sad moment in our nation’s history as well as a sad moment for the performing arts, the artists, and the audiences. May the virus pass soon. Stay healthy and be safe.

OM

Met’s new Wozzeck is overpowering

These days, as operas go, Alban Berg’s Wozzeck is still a shocker. Not surprising this: the destructive physical and psychological effects of war are still with us, more often than not dealt to those more disenfranchised by society, those poor souls who will occupy the lower rungs of the chain of command, those eventually first in the line of fire on the battlefield, the first to die. These folks form the center of Wozzeck. Add to this Berg’s powerful and uncompromising score and one has a night at the opera not easily forgotten. Which is not the same as saying it’s a great first opera or a nice date night.

At the tavern, Wozzeck is covered with blood

Two events cemented Berg’s resolve to set the tale of Wozzeck as his first opera. In Vienna in May of 1914, two months and change before the start of the Great War, Berg saw the play by Karl Emil Franzos, which was based on recently discovered fragments of a play Woyzeck written, but not completed, by Georg Büchner in 1837. Büchner’s work was an early psychological study, really, of the case of a down and out soldier who murdered of his common law wife. But evidence from observers spoke of Woyzeck’s signs of mental disorder. Poor fellow was executed anyway, such being the case of the down and out tried by the ignorant.

Though quite affected by the plot and its characters, Berg was also aware of its possibilities as an opera.
But he shelved the idea. As we know, World War One would eventually engulf Europe, and later entangle the United States. It was a slaughterhouse for the young men and women on and behind the front lines. Berg, too, was conscripted and sent to a camp in Hungary, and though he didn’t see combat, he experienced a physical and psychological collapse. He was sent home for the remainder of his service. Berg’s experiences in the Austrian Army, his complete collapse, his observations of abuse of power, and so on, sealed his determination to write the opera Wozzeck. How it eventually came to pass is an extensive chapter in music and performance history. After many delays and numerous rehearsals, Berg’s Wozzeck premiered in Berlin in 1925 under the baton of Erich Kleiber. It was a big success, arguably the biggest success of the so-called ‘modern operas,’ i.e., the 20th century operas not written by Puccini and Richard Strauss. 

Wozzeck and Marie at home

The Met’s new production of Wozzeck premiered in the waning days of 2019. Compared to the opera’s previous two productions at the Met*…No, wait: compared to practically every other production at the Met** this Wozzeck is arguably the busiest, most chaotic, darkest one I’ve yet seen in my many years as a patron. William Kentridge’s conception includes sets by Sabine Theunissen, who has piled on the stage fragments of buildings, stairways, door frames, and small mountains of discarded civilization everywhere. One can imagine the smell; no wonder many of the people are wearing gas masks! But of course the characters are already anticipating the awful war. Save for the Captain, the Doctor, and the Drum Major, Greta Goiris’s costumes have almost all of them dressed more or less in the same fashion of poverty grunge. Catherine Meyburgh’s mostly black and white projections include bomb bursts, biplanes diving and crashing, clouds of course, as well as the signature strutting figures, who, one suspects, have been blown out of the Nose. Luc De Wit is co-director.

Peter Mattei, known for his strong characterizations, such as the Count in Figaro, Don Giovanni, Wagner’s Wolfram and Amfortas, is an excellent Wozzeck, both in action and voice. His gradual unraveling as the opera progresses is clearly played out, tugging at your heartstrings as the orchestra is about to rip it
out.

Mattei is paired with Elza van den Heever as Marie, his common law wife and mother of his bastard child. A favorite artist of mine, van den Heever personally delights in extreme roles, which at the Met have included Elizabeth I in Maria Stuarda, Elettra in Idomeneo, Chrysothemis in Elektra, and, most recently, Vitellia in La Clemenza di Tito. She maintains a taught stance when confronted, but can be tender, albeit briefly, when her child is wanting. The behavioral and vocal tensions between Wozzeck and Marie are evident at every juncture, culminating in her murder at his hands. These are touching and at the same time disturbing performances.

Wozzeck and the Doctor

Surrounding Wozzeck are his tormenters: a high strung, insulting Captain, taken by tenor Gerhard Siegel, a crazed Doctor who pokes and prods him, taken by bass Christian Van Horn, and the brutal Drum Major, who not only seduces Marie but beats Wozzeck up in the barracks. This role is sung by Christopher Ventris. Andres, sung by Andrew Staples, is Wozzeck’s only ‘friend.’

Margaret is strongly sung by Tamara Mumford, the drunken Apprentices are David Crawford and Miles Mykkanen, Brenton Ryan is the Fool, Daniel Clark Smith is a Soldier, Gregory Warren is a Townsman, and Eliot Flowers is Marie’s Child, though visually a puppet with a gasmask on.

Under the baton of Yannick Nézet-Séguin, the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra effected a wide dynamic range, as called for in Berg’s score, but also a subtle transparency, which allowed many individual instruments to be heard. The number of players in the pit is quite large, but they rarely get to play as an ensemble.

Review performance date: January 11, 2020; this performance was also telecast in HD. It was the Met’s 73rd performance of Wozzeck, this, the third production in the Met’s history. The very first was at the Old Met in
1959.

Photos by Ken Howard.

Wozzeck is performed in one act, though written in three short acts; it returns to the Met’s stage on the evenings of January 16 and 22, with another matinee on Sunday, January 19. 

For ticket information or to place an order, please call (212) 362-6000 or visit www.metopera.org. Special rates for groups of 10 or more are available by calling (212) 341-5410 or by visiting www.metopera.org/groups.

*Wozzeck was first produced in 1959, the production was by Caspar Neher, Karl Böhm at the helm. Hermann Uhde sang the title role, Eleanor Steber was Marie; in 1997 the Met premiered the Mark Lamos production with James Levine at the helm. Falk Struckmann was Wozzeck with Maria Ewing as Marie. This Wozzeck is the third.

** Thinking back, William Kentridge’s debut production of Shostakovich’s Nose in 2010 might be a competitor for the prize; his other production was Berg’s Lulu, new in 2016.

My first Wozzeck at the Met was in October of 1974, the original Neher production, with James Levine conducting; Peter Glossop and Janis Martin took the lead roles. Other performances included Anja Silja and Jose Van Dam in February of 1980, Hildegard Behrens as Marie, once in 1985 and again in 1989, then, in 1997, the premiere performance of the new Lamos production. Again, James Levine conducted.

I remember distinctly my first hearing of Wozzeck through the award winning DG vinyl recording with Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and Evelyn Lear, conducted by Karl Böhm in, I want to say 1965 or ‘66. It was an ear-opener, ultimately leading to Lulu on DG with Lear and Fischer-Dieskau and then Lulu on stage with Anneliese Rothenburger and the Hamburg State Opera @ Lincoln Center in the summer of 1967. A real slippery slope, this! On to Schoenberg, Schreker, Zemlinsky, Braunfels, and Busoni!

Enjoy!

Well, become emotionally connected with the terrible drama as it unfolds. Be deeply moved. ‘Enjoy’ is probably not the right word.

OM

Tchaikovsky’s The Queen of Spades is grand beyond measure

Of Tchaikovsky’s operatic oeuvre, The Queen of Spades, aka Pique Dame (en français), is by far his most passionate, most tormented, and most grand. Eugene Onegin, better known and more frequently shown, is tame by comparison. True, there are currents of more complex emotions running below the surface in Onegin, at times breaking the decorum. But only at times.

In The Queen of Spades, Hermann is not only obsessed with Liza but also obsessed with getting enough money to support them, his military salary being not quite competitive with the purses of princes and counts. And whereas Lensky in Onegin is passionate about Olga, he is also mostly proper until, that is, he’s goaded into action by jealous rage.

The grand ball in St. Petersburg in The Queen of Spades

New in 1995, the Met’s production of The Queen of Spades has always been special. Elijah Moshinsky stages the constantly moving goings-on amidst grand, emotionally provocative sets (and the sumptuous costumes) designed by Mark Thompson, with lighting by Paul Pyant. John Meehan has created the choreography. It’s St. Petersburg in the Summer Park on a warm evening. Persons of all social strata are out for a stroll, interrupted eventually by a passing storm just in time for the emotional torrent of Hermann’s hopelessness. In this scene, the whole story is set in action: Liza, an alluring young beauty, has caught his attention. Hermann at last identifies her when she appears in the Park; we learn that she is the granddaughter of the old Countess, as well as the fiancée of the wealthy, also a bit boring Count Yeletsky. Hermann learns from Count Tomsky that the old Countess recovered her wealth in Paris back in the day with a magical sequence of three cards and that, having given the secret sequence to two others, she fears that the third time will be the one who kills her.

Lise Davidsen is Liza, the granddaughter of the Old Countess

That evening, Hermann appears on Liza’s balcony. His passion must be met by her in his arms or he dies by his own hand. She chooses the first option.

Lise Davidsen with Yusif Eyvazov as Hermann

But there are diversions interspersed throughout: the beginning of this evening scene has the young women of the estate entertaining themselves with songs, just as the beginning of the previous Summer Park scene had everyone milling about, children playing, having a pleasant evening. Later diversions in The Queen of Spades include a jolly pastoral of Daphnis and Chloë (in the style of Mozart), a ball, the brief appearance of Catherine the Great, and, at the end of the opera, a brisk night of the gents in drunken celebration and gambling. It’s big, The Queen of Spades is big.

Yusif Eyvazov’s Hermann is driven to desperation by his quest to win at gambling, though on this afternoon it was mainly later in the opera that his voice rounded out into that of a true heroic tenor. Happily his high notes burned brightly throughout the evening.

The elegant Liza at the ball in Act II. Lise Davidsen makes her Met debut

Lise Davidsen, in her Met debut, is outstanding in every way. She is rigidly proper but not happy in the presence of the Yeletsky, torn between passion and fear in Hermann’s presence, and totally broken by the eventual reality that he loves the thought of winning money more than the thought of spending happy days with her. Davidsen has a voice that will be remembered for a long time to come: it is evenly produced over her vocal range with a thrilling top and solid lower register. Her movements on stage fit naturally with the dramatic situation and the music. Nothing seems forced. I’m hoping now to be at her first Isolde in the House! Welcome to the Met, Lise! Brava!!

Hermann frightens the Old Countess to death. Larissa Diadkova is the Countess

Baritone Igor Golovatenko sang Count Yeletsky’s aria in Act II with a noble, suave, and even tone. Of the gentlemen mingling in Act I, dropping the story of the three cards, Paul Groves sings Tchekalinsky, Raymond Aceto sings Sourin, and Alexey Markov sings Count Tomsky (and also Plutus in the aforementioned jolly pastoral).

Surrounding Liza are Kirov veteran Larissa Diadkova as the aged Countess, Elena Maximova as Pauline (also Daphnis), Jill Grove as the Governess, Leah Hawkins as Masha, and Mané Galoyan is Chloë.

The Master of Ceremonies of the festivities at the ball is Patrick Cook; Arseny Yakovlev is Tchaplitsky and Mikhail Svetlov is Naroumov; Sheila Ricci is Catherine the Great (a non-singing role).

Vasily Petrenko, making his debut with The Queen of Spades, conducts the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra; Donald Palumbo is Chorus Master. Both groups were loudly applauded for their afternoon long art. Peter McClintock is the Stage Director of this revival.

Performance date: December 14, 2019, the broadcast matinee.

Photos by: Ken Howard

Tchaikovsky’s The Queen of Spades is performed in two large acts, Act I as written, Act II consisting of Acts II and III. There is one intermission. It appears at the Met again Wednesday, December 18, and, the last performance, Saturday evening, the 21st.

For ticket information or to place an order, please call (212) 362-6000 or visit www.metopera.org. Special rates for groups of 10 or more are available by calling (212) 341-5410 or by visiting www.metopera.org/groups.

Don’t miss The Queen of Spades. It is one of the best.

OM.

Philip Glass’s Akhnaten at the Met

Co-opting the adage referring to one’s children, operas should be seen, not simply heard. This is especially the case with the operas of American composer Philip Glass. Though the music itself, with its seemingly endless repetitions, is pleasing enough to listen to on radio or recording, impactful, even emotionally moving, its ultimate meaning and impact will remain clouded until we witness the goings-on onstage. The Met’s premiere production of Akhnaten is the apt illustration of this wisdom.

The experience of Akhnaten is what we used to call a ‘happening,’ an event where one is drawn into an altered world of sight and sound, color and motion, its effects lingering for…well, forever maybe.

Phelim McDermott, who also produced the Met’s premiere staging of Glass’s Satyagraha in 2008, and Sean Gandini, juggler and choreographer, make it all happen in front of us. They conspire to give image, motion, motivation and meaning to Glass’s tale and score. Also on the production team: Tom Pye designed the colorful sets and projections, Kevin Pollard created the elaborate and ornate costumes, and Bruno Poet designed the lighting. It is a production not to be missed.

Anthony Roth Costanzo as Akhnaten is surrounded by a legion of jugglers

Remarking that jugglers are a central part of this Akhnaten, or any opera for that matter, may raise eyebrows in the lobby before the curtain rises, but by the opera’s end their contribution to this staging is obvious. At times the action on stage unfolds at a glacial pace, the characters moving in carefully timed paces to get from point A to point B within the arc of the music. The funeral ritual for the deceased pharaoh Amenhotep III, in which his organs are ceremoniously removed and encased, is one such scene. But more often Glass’s music has more propulsion, more layers than the actions of the characters. The jugglers provide a visual accompaniment, their tosses and catches carefully synchronized with the orchestra. No mean feat, this! This unique choreography is visually arresting in its complexity and exciting in its constant flirtation with disaster. Happily, there were only two dropped balls or batons out of so many on our afternoon in the House. Bravi Sean Gandini and the members of Gandini Juggling, called here the Skills Ensemble!

Queen Nefertiti, Akhnaten, and Queen Tye are framed in a trio

The story line of Akhnaten unfolds in many tableaux. Pharaoh Amenhotep III’s death (before Act I) make his son Amenhotep IV the new leader. But Amenhotep IV conceives and embraces a monotheistic religion, changing his name to Akhnaten, worshiping the spirit of Aten, the Sun God. The transition from the old ways to the new ways is not easy, requiring suppression of the old beliefs and gods, and though successful, Akhnaten and Queen Nefertiti and their six daughters seem, over time, to recede from contact and commerce with the people. In the end the Priests of Amon pull Akhnaten’s family apart, Akhnaten is killed, and his City of the Horizon, Tel-ei-Amarna is destroyed, leaving today only scant ruins covered mostly by drifting sand. In Act III a learned professor instructs his students about the City’s history and also how to negotiate the crowds at the crossing ferry…

Voices in a Philip Glass opera are instruments, less the means by which characters in a traditional opera communicate to one another. In addition, the opera is sung in several languages, some of them ancient, one of them Hebrew, though, by the composer’s instructions, the spoken word is in the language of the host country, here English.

Anthony Roth Costanzo as Akhnaten and J’nai Bridges as Nefertiti in their duet in Act II

Countertenor Anthony Roth Costanzo as Akhnaten, pharaoh of Egypt, is heavenly in voice and affecting in demeanor. His duet with J’Nai Bridges, his Queen Nefertiti, is haunting, the two intertwining in long red gowns. Dísella Lárusdottir is supportive as Queen Tye, Akhnaten’s mother; Richard Bernstein is Aye, Nefertiti’s father.

Zachary James, in his Met debut, is the spirit of the deceased Amenhotep III, who speaks to us about his son’s affairs; he is also the modern-day Professor giving that lecture to the class of disinterested students. Aaron Blake is the High Priest of Amon and Will Liverman is General Horemhab, both instrumental in Akhnaten’s downfall and death.

Akhnaten’s daughters are Lindsay Ohse as Bekhetaten, Karen Chia-Ling Ho as Meretaten, Chrystal E. Williams as Maketaten, Annie Rosen as Ankhesenpaaten, Olivia Vote as Nefernferauten, and Suzanne Hendrix is Sotopenre. Christian J. Conner is the young Tutankhamun, the next Pharaoh.

Karen Kamensek, in her Met debut, conducts the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra. Her leadership keeps the ebb and flow of Glass’s wonderful score moving. Welcome!

The Metropolitan Opera’s performance of Philip Glass’s Akhnaten is a ‘happening’ if ever there was one. Don’t miss it in the House.

Performance date: November 23, 2019, a Saturday matinee, also telecast in HD worldwide. It was the fifth performance by the Company.

Photos by Karen Almond.

Akhnaten is performed in three acts with two intermissions and some short pauses in between blocks of the score. Akhnaten is performed again on the evenings of November 30, December 4, and on Saturday afternoon, December 7. This matinee will be broadcast live as part of the Saturday Matinee Radio Broadcasts, carried live by some local FM stations in the NY metropolitan area and on Sirius XM worldwide. If you can’t make it to the Met, tune in to the radio. Hope too that the Met’s Akhnaten is put to DVD or featured on Met on Demand.

Happy Thanksgiving to all. OM

Don’t miss Massenet’s Manon in HD!

The Met’s current production of Massenet’s Manon was new in 2012, starring Anna Netrebko and Piotr Beczała, returning in 2014-2015 with Diana Damrau and Vittorio Grigolo. Historically,  Manon has been a special occasion: prior productions at the Met from 1895 to this month in 2019 have boasted stellar casts, a literal ‘who’s who’ in the Company’s roster of great singers. This season’s revival adds three more young stars to the list.

Lisette Oropesa arrives in town as the young Manon

As Manon Lescaut, Lisette Oropesa makes a triumphant return to our stage after a series of successful appearances in Europe and elsewhere in the States. Prior to this, she sang a number of lighter soprano roles at the Met, notably Humperdinck’s Gretel, Massenet’s Sophie (Werther), Verdi’s Nannetta (Falstaff), and Gilda, this last role in the second cast of the first season of the current Las Vegas production of Rigoletto. Hoarse from shouting Brava! I remember remarking to my family that Oropesa certainly seems ready for prime time!

Oropesa later, indulging in the (promised) good life

Clearly so: her Manon here is sung with an effortless, passionate upper register that shines throughout the evening. She is lithe, agile, and playful, making her portrayal of a teenager quite believable in the first scene,* but Oropesa also masters the transition from this happy innocence to a head-strong, abandoned recklessness toward the end of her short life. The soul breaking degradation she suffers at the end is all the more reprehensible, in that it comes at the hands of a flock of men, some of them the long dark-coated, top-hatted gents who throughout the opera swarm around her like vultures over a corpse. Brava Lisette! Welcome back!

Michael Fabiano is Chevalier des Grieux, Manon’s true love

Michael Fabiano joins the Met’s list of historic tenors in the role of Le Chevalier des Grieux. He, also young and innocent at the opera’s opening, is a student on his way home from university to greet his father. His meeting with the fetching and fidgety Manon at Amiens is a life-changing event for him as much as it is for her, with big highs of passion and love, alas only to be dropping to deep lows of confusion, depression, and desperation. Notable this evening was the richness and substance of Fabiano’s voice, clearly deepening the art of an already fine instrument. Both he and Oropesa work together well on stage: the St. Sulpice scene** is breathlessly passionate.

Manon clings to riches as their plan collapses in the Casion

New to me and equally stellar is the charming and vibrant Lescaut of Polish baritone Artur Ruciński. Lescaut in Massenet’s opera is Manon’s cousin, also, arguably her pimp, as he is the one who brokers the liaison between her and and his gambling buddy de Brétigny. As well, Lescaut probably orchestrates De Grieux’s kidnapping to get him out of the way. Ruciński’s Lescaut is a standout performance vocally and dramatically; his stage presence is captivating, his movements smooth and certain.

As an aside, it’s worth mentioning that in Prévost’s novel, the source of this and other Manon operas, Lescaut is Manon’s brother. He is responsible for some of Manon’s liaisons and also for introducing Des Grieux to the art of cheating at cards. All in all he’s a pretty reprehensible fellow. Ruciński’s Lescaut is happily optimistic about things, even if it involves having his cousin (in the Massenet) support him by selling her favors.

De Brétigny is Brett Polegato and Guillot de Morfontaine is Carlo Bosi, both effective in their roles as chief engineers of Manon’s demolition. Pousette, Javotte, and Rosette (Jacqueline Echols, Laura Krumm, and Maya Lahyani respectively) are standard fare for the Opéra Comique at that time (the 1880s): they’re beautiful, all-the-world’s-a-playground sorts, clones of their gypsy sisters in Carmen, for instance (or of the more entrepreneurially Three Sisters in Offenbach’s La Périchole at Théâtre des Bouffes-Parisiens). Kwangchul Youn was a rather stiff Comte des Grieux, the Chevalier’s father.

Maurizio Benini conducted the Metropolitan Orchestra.

Laurent Pelly’s production style is well known in these parts, on stage and through video.***** As Manon requires at least one scene change per act, the sets, designed by Chantal Thomas, can be removed fairly quickly and silently. The set for Act I, Scene I, * the Inn at Amiens, is a bland light grayish playing space far below the doll house sized city above. A very long stairway connects the two levels. The benefit of this arrangement is primarily sonic enhancement. Scene II is an odd shell of an apartment in Paris, missing walls and depth, probably also missing a brass bathtub and central air conditioning, but it’s serviceable because it keeps the various groups apart, Lescaut inside, keeping Manon occupied, while others outside kidnap Des Grieux. The aforementioned vultures with top hats were seen milling around. Act II, Scene I*** is a series of ramps, creating a park with very little foliage, and so on. Not particularly eye-catching, but, as I say, serviceable.

Pelly designed the costumes, elegant for the rich, more dingy for the lower classes. Lionel Hoche choreographed the dancers of the Opéra ballet in the park where they pirouette playfully, but it’s mostly as an advertising stuff, fetching a chance to be swept up and carried off by the wealthy gentlevultures as mistresses. The previous Jean-Pierre Ponnelle production (1987) was more realistic in the settings, though cluttered with busy things. It erred in a different way.

Here, to me in the Orchestra, the action, the singing, and the score carry the evening, not the sets. Plus, the closeups in any HD telecast will make you forget the shortcomings of the mise-en-scene in the House. Don’t miss the final performance! Massenet’s Manon is a winner.

Photos by Morty Sohl.

Review performance date: October 22, 2019.

* Act I, as written; Act I, Scene I as performed.

** Act III, Scene II, as written and performed.

*** Act III, Scene I, as written; Act II, Scene I as performed.

**** I have, as in recordings of, four others, including, obviously, Puccini’s Manon Lescaut and Auber’s Manon Lescaut, but also two others with different titles and character names, but similar dramatic content.

***** Check out OM’s review of Laurent Pelly’s L’Etoile on Blu ray at the top of the page New Recordings. You’ll get down Pelly’s style…

Those other casts for Manon in the Met’s history include soprano Sibyl Sanderson and Jean de Reszke (1895), then the great trio of Geraldine Farrar, Enrico Caruso, and Antonio Scotti (the famous tenor was my grandmother-in-law’s favorite) (1909), the great Lucrezia Bori, Beniamino Gigli, and Giuseppe de Luca (these last two my father-in-law’s favorites) (1928), then Victoria de los Angeles, Cesare Valletti, and Fernando Corena (Corena was always one of my favories) (1954). Long list, but not in my past.

However, one of my many regrets: I missed the opportunity of seeing Nicolai Gedda and Anna Moffo in a new production of Manon at the Met in the fall of 1963. They were both well known to me through recordings, but at this point, in my soon-to-be second season at the Met. Alas, before I cut loose and gained the benefit of an impassioned standee gossip to guide my choices for a bucket-list of operas and singers to be seen, Manon and Massenet, for that matter, were simply unknown quantities. Besides, I had to rely on my father to get tickets (no mail order then) and, so what?, I couldn’t legally drive anywhere, anyway.

My first Manon on stage was with Beverley Sills and John Alexander, Julius Rudel at the helm at the New York City Opera in April, 1973. It was excellent and memorable, the later video of this production is nostalgically good. We’ve seen the new productions, Ponnelle in 1986, later with my dear Renée Fleming in the title role, then the Pelly troupe.

Great opera, simply said. Don’t miss it.

This season’s Manon at the Met is performed in three acts with two intermissions and pauses in each act, curtain down, for changing the scenery. The running time of the HD performance is about four hours and change.

Manon appears on the Met stage for its final performance, the matinee Saturday, October 26, at 1:00, ET, with the same cast reviewed here. For ticket information or to place an order, please call (212) 362-6000 or visit www.metopera.org. Special rates for groups of 10 or more are available by calling (212) 341-5410 or by visiting www.metopera.org/groups.

This matinee performance of Manon will be telecast live in HD to theaters worldwide and radio broadcast or streamed via various media. It will also be encored in some locations. Information about HD venues, operas, dates, times, casts, and tickets can be found on the Metropolitan Opera website www.metopera.org.

Note local telecast dates: the Quick Center at Fairfield University in Fairfield, CT, will show the October 26 matinee performance of Manon live in HD at 1 p.m. and again as an encore at 6 p.m. Tickets for these at the Quick Center may be ordered online at www.fairfield.edu/lifeatfairfield/artsminds/quickcenterforthearts or one may call the Quick Center Box Office at 203-254-4010 or 1-877-278-7396.

The Ridgefield Playhouse in Ridgefield, CT, will also telecast Manon on Saturday, October 26 at 12:00 p.m. Tickets for this performance @ Ridgefield may be ordered online at www.ridgefieldplayhouse.org or from the box office of the Ridgefield Playhouse at 203-438-5795.

The vibes are good at these venues! Plus ample free parking is available at both; please check their websites for directions to theaters and suggestions for fine regional dining.

Enjoy! My Manon (10,22, 2019) was a totally beautiful night with new friends in my row…but it was marred by awful weather to and from the City. October can be beautiful month. But sometimes not!

Luv, OM

Stirring Macbeth crowns the Met’s opening weeks

As Italian operas go, Verdi’s Macbeth has had a checkered past with me. Though eventually well-served on recordings and videos over the years, the opera always seemed to come up short live, on stage in the House. The Casper Nehar/Carl Ebert production, the one that introduced Macbeth to the Met’s stage in 1959, was dusty and dull by our first live encounter in 1973, in spite of Sherrill Milnes’ solid essay of the title role. The Peter Hall production in November, 1982, Milnes again, an otherwise decent cast and all, was framed in a misguided, silly conception, loudly booed on its opening night: the roar of an audience enraged, literally springing out of their seats at curtain call by the production’s creative team, still echoes in my ears. The current one by Adrian Noble didn’t work particularly well in 2007; I was unable to attend its recent revival in 2014.

Anna Netrebko shines in Verdi’s Macbeth

Fast forward to Saturday night, when, for me, it finally came together. This was due to a number of key factors. First and foremost is the electrifying Lady Macbeth of Anna Netrebko. As in her Adriana Lecouvreur last season, Netrebko has now added to her thrilling upper range a rich lower register, thus making the total voice closer in quality and volume to the likes of Shirley Verrett, Grace Bumbry or Fiorenza Cossotto, each appropriately categorized as mezzo sopranos. Onstage Netrebko is fierce, demonic, demanding, and demonstrative, a force to conjure with on all levels. I was prepared for this, knowing her as I do, just not prepared for the powerful impact of her characterization from start to finish, live in the House. Wow! Don’t miss it.

The last minute withdrawal of Placido Domingo, who was to sing Macbeth, left a last-minute hole in the cast. Željko Lučić, who, of late, has owned the title role (as well as several other principal baritone roles at the Met), was already scheduled to appear later in its short run. He sang the role in the 2007 premiere of the current production and again in 2014 (to Netrebko’s first essay of Lady Macbeth at the Met). So Lučić, in fact, will in the subsequent performances of Macbeth (dates listed below). But this past Saturday the Met gave us bass-baritone Craig Colclough, making a very successful Company debut.

Craig Colclough makes Met debut in Verdi’s Macbeth

One hopes it will be remembered here as a ‘star is born’ sort of evening for Colclough: his voice, to my ears, has the rough but bright brown color of Leonard Warren (who premiered Macbeth at the Met in 1959), though missing Warren’s edgy top. I cannot compare the two in volume: I never heard Warren live in the House, only from Met broadcasts after the fact. Colclough’s voice was easily sufficient to ride over the orchestra.

Equally important, though, is Colclough’s many-faceted interpretation: this night Macbeth had his weaknesses, his fears, his demons, and though he committed all of the dastardly deeds in the script, he clearly suffers, particularly when Banquo’s Ghost appears and when the woods are closing in on him. His grief at the announcement of his Lady’s death was touching. All in all Colclough’s Macbeth is not a merely ‘stand and deliver’ substitution. Very affecting! Bravo!

Ildar Abdrasakov is Banquo

Ildar Abdrazakov is a sturdy Banquo, rich in voice; Matthew Polenzani conveys MacDuff’s sadness over the death of his family, especially the loss of his dear children, with a tender, sweet voice that tugs at one’s heartstrings.

Tenor Matthew Polenzani is MacDuff

Others in the cast include Giuseppe Filianoti as Malcolm, Harold Wilson as a Doctor, and Sarah Cambridge as the Lady-in-Waiting. The three Apparitions are Christopher Job as a Warrior, Meigui Zhang as a Bloody Child, and Karen Chia-Ling Ho as a Crowned Child. Raymond Renault is King Duncan, Bradley Garvin is a Servant, Richard Bernstein is a Murderer, Yohan Yi is a Herald, and Misha Grossman is Banquo’s son Fleance.

Metropolitan Opera Chorus, under Chorus Master Donald Palumbo, executed their various roles with vigor and volume; under the baton of Marco Armiliato, Macbeth coalesces into a grandly dark experience which fills the House up to the ceiling. His tempi are broad, never rushed, not even in those parts of Verdi’s score which linger on the borders of his earlier, more bouncy style. Though it premiered in 1847, many parts of the score of Macbeth look forward past La Traviata, even past Simon Boccanegra. Conspicuous is Verdi’s concern for the color of the sound of Shakespeare’s tale.

The soldiers and the people gather in the woods on a cold night before the final battle

The Adrian Noble production, with sets and costumes by Mark Thompson, lighting designed by Jean Kalman, and choreography by Sue Lefton holds up well. Again, the mood, the color matches the drama on stage and the music coming from the pit. We left the Met quite moved.

Although…one still wonders why the witches need to bounce around like drag characters from a Monty Python skit. Smirks and laughter in the audience kill the mood, but thankfully their tenure on stage is brief.

One should need no encouragement to witness the great Anna Netrebko as Lady Macbeth; but this Macbeth on this Saturday evening was far greater than the sum of its parts. Magic at the Met. Dig it.

Review performance date: September 28, 2019.

Photos: Ken Howard; photo of Craig Colclough is courtesy Metropolitan Opera.

Verdi’s Macbeth was written in four acts, but is here performed in two acts (Act I & II running approximately 90 minutes, a single intermission, then Act III & IV). It will be performed on the Met stage again on the evenings of October 4, 8, and 12.

Macbeth will not be telecast in HD this season, but a performance from the fall will be recorded and broadcast on Saturday, December 21, 2019, on Sirius XM and most likely on WQXR FM in the New York metropolitan area.

Welcome back! Enjoy the new season. OM

The Metropolitan Opera 2019-2020 HD season

The Metropolitan Opera’s first HD telecast…certainly not the same thing as the first ‘telecast’ of an opera live from the Met’s stage. This event was before most of my readers were born, I’ll bet…but I digress: the Met’s first HD telecast was in the fall of 2006. Now follows the fourteenth season of the Met in HD, sure to add to the long list of moving and memorable experiences we’ve had along the way.

Joyce DiDonato as Agrippina toasts the new HD season

As in previous previews, OperaMetro lists below the date and time of the to-be-telecast live performance on the stage of the Metropolitan Opera at Lincoln Center. As it turns out, this season all of the telecasts will begin at 12:55 p.m. on the Saturday afternoons listed below. Please note: your theater of choice may air the live performance also an encore, same day or sometimes only as an ‘encore’ on a different day and/or different time altogether. Always check your local listings!

The HD season opens on October 12 with Turandot, Puccini’s last and grandest opera in one of the Met’s grandest productions. Director/designer Franco Zeffirelli spared no detail in this one! The performance is conducted by the Met’s Music Director Yannick Nézet-Séguin; American soprano Christine Goerke essays the ice Princess Turandot; her Brünnhilde in the complete Ring Cycles this past spring were wildly acclaimed. Roberto Aronica sings Calaf; Nessun dorma, Calaf’s signature aria in Act III, is pretty close to the top of the list of ‘arias well known even by people who haven’t yet been to a live opera at the Met.’ Eleonora Buratto is Liu, a slave girl; veteran bass James Morris sings Timur, Calaf’s blind father. I repeat, it’s grand…beyond grand.

The Gambling Scene in the final act of Massenet’s Manon

The by-now familiar style of director and costume designer Laurant Pelly, teamed with set designer Chantal Thomas, is evident in their conception of Manon, Jules Massenet’s opera based on the Prévost novel from the mid-18th century. Soprano Lisette Oropesa triumphantly returns to the Met to star in the title role. She is joined by Michael Fabiano, who sings Manon’s faithful, but let’s face it, naïve lover Des Grieux. Artur Ruciński sings Lescaut, Manon’s cousin (in this operatic setting); Carlo Bosi sings Guillot de Montfontaine, the elderly scallywag who wishes to have Manon for himself; Brett Polegato is de Brétigny, the not-much-better fellow whose same wish came true. Maurizio Benini conducts the telecast performance, which is October 26.

The third HD telecast in the series, on November 9, is also a revival: Puccini’s Madama Butterfly, served up in Anthony Minghella’s now iconic staging. The production was unveiled on Opening Night, 2006, the first season under Peter Gelb. At the Open House prior to Opening Night, the late Anthony Minghella spoke to the audience…but I digress again. Hui He stars as Cio-Cio-San, the geisha who marries the American Naval officer B.F. Pinkerton for love, but also to escape poverty and exploitation. Pinkerton is sung by Andrea Carè: true to the curse of many tenor roles in opera, Pinkerton is in the relationship mainly for pleasure, but, I have to think, he actually loves Cio-Cio-San, though, it turns out, he’s less serious about the long term relationship, even sharing with Sharpless, the Consul, that when he returns to the States he will get himself a real American bride. Adding yet another to his ‘roles sung at the Met, Plácido Domingo sings Sharpless; Elizabeth DeShong is Suzuki, Cio-Cio-San’s companion. Pier Giorgio Morandi conducts.

Anthony Roth Costanzo sings the title role of Akhnaten

On November 23, the Met telecasts Philip Glass’s Akhnaten, a new production this season and the third Glass opera in the Met’s repertory. Phelim McDermott, whose Satyagraha was enormously successful, I loved it, returns to direct; Karen Kamensek makes her Met debut as conductor; Tom Pye designed the sets. Anthony Roth Costanzo sings the role of the Pharoah Akhnaten who calls for conceptualization and worship of a single god, not a committee of gods. J’Nai Bridges sings Nefertiti, Akhnaten’s bride and Disella Lárusdóttir is Queen Tye, Akhnaten’s mother. Choreographed stage action by the Gandini Juggling Company fits Glass’s music. This production also was staged at L.A.Opera, Improbably, and the English National Opera.

Alban Berg’s Wozzeck, one of the great operas of the 20th century, is the next telecast (January 11, 2020) in a new production by William Kentridge, whose Lulu (also by Berg) and The Nose (by Dimitri Shostakovich) dazzled audiences. Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducts; Peter Mattei stars as Wozzeck, the marvelous Elza van den Heever is Marie, and Tamara Mumford is Margret. Among Wozzeck’s tormentors are Christopher Ventris as the Drum-Major, Gerhard Siegel as the Captain, and Christian Van Horn as the Doctor. Luc De Wit co-directs the production; Sabine Theunissen designed the sets. As is his wont, Kentridge provides animated charcoal drawings and projections of various related and unrelated things such as maps, crashing airplanes, battlefields, and so on.

Peter Mattei stars in the title role of Berg’s Wozzeck

A colorful new production of George Gershwins’ Porgy and Bess opens the 2019-2020 Metropolitan Opera season on September 23, 2019, but later comes to the HD screen on February 1. After many successes on Broadway, George and Ira Gershwin strove to write something much bigger: the result was Porgy and Bess in 1935. The arias, the music from the opera have become a central part of America’s musical fabric. The great basso Eric Owens sings Porgy, Angel Blue sings Bess, Denyce Graves sings Maria, Latonia Moore is Serena, Frederick Ballentine is a spirited Sportin’ Life, Alfred Walker is the devil-like Crown, and Golda Schultz is Clara. David Robertson conducts. The production is by James Robertson, with sets by Michael Yeargan, costumes by Catherine Zuber, Projections by Luke Halls. Porgy and Bess (sung in English, of course) is co-produced by the English National Opera and Dutch National Opera.

From the early 20th century of Porgy and Bess we drop back to the decaying Roman Empire around the year 50, as in 5-0, dramatized in George Frideric Handel’s Agrippina, the opera he composed in the early 18th century, 1709 to be exact, but in this new production the time is set more or less in the 21st century…got that? Agrippina is one of Handel’s early operas, composed during his apprenticeship in Italy. It’s performed this season for the first time at the Met and the first time in HD! The marvelous Joyce DiDonato is the Empress Agrippina, joined by Brenda Rae as Poppea, Kate Lindsey as young Nerone, Iestyn Davies as Ottone, and Matthew Rose as the Emperor Claudius. Harry Bicket conducts. The production of Agrippina is by Sir David McVicar, who revisits his successful staging at the Monnaie in Brussels back in 2000.

Girard’s conception of Wagner’s Flying Dutchman

Wagner’s stormy Der fliegende Holländer is brought new to the Met’s stage by Francois Girard, whose blood-soaked Parsifal was a tour de force new production in 2013, which was the 200th anniversary of Wagner’s birth. This is a great opera! Conductor Valery Gergiev returns to the Met to lead an all-star cast capped by Sir Bryn Terfel as the Dutchman, Anja Kampe is Senta, Franz-Josef Selig is Daland, Senta’s Father, Sergey Skorokhodov is Erik, a hunter who loves Senta, and Mihoko Fujimura is Mary, Senta’s companion. The production is shared with L’Opéra de Québec and the Dutch National Opera in Amsterdam.

Sir David McVicar’s thrilling production of Puccini’s Tosca returns to HD on April 11 with my darling Anna Netrebko in the title role. She is loved by Brian Jagde as Cavaradossi, and pursued by the intense Michael Volle as Baron Scarpia. Bertrand de Billy conducts.

Last, but not least, is Sir David McVicar’s production of Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda on May 9, its second telecast in HD, this time starring Diana Damrau as the condemned Queen of Scotland and Jamie Barton as the powerful Queen Elizabeth. Stephen Costello is Mary’s lover Leicester, Andrzej Filończyk is Cecil, and Michele Pertusi is Earl Talbot.

This is a varied and awesome HD season! Tickets for the ten telecasts for the 2019-2020 HD season go on sale Wednesday, July 17, 2019, in the USA and Canada. Met Members are offered priority access to tickets before the general public. International ticket sales dates and details on ordering tickets vary from country to country. Please check with your individual distributor.

OperaMetro reviews of performances of many of these operas at the Met preceding their HD telecasts. All are posted on this page.

Summer! Dig it!

 OM