Opera 101—Orange Foolius

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Opera, Verdi

Quinn Kelsey as the eponymous court jester in Rigoletto. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Giuseppe Verdi, Rigoletto (1851)
Based on: a play by Victor Hugo
Notable Cultural References: Frasier: “Out with Dad” and The Muppet Show: “Pigoletto”
Setting: Mantua, 16th century

Plot in 101 words or less: Rigoletto, a hunchbacked court jester, keeps his beautiful daughter secluded lest she catch the duke’s roving eye. Too late! Gilda has secretly been making googly eyes at him in church. Furious over the jester’s endless mockery, cuckolded noblemen kidnap his “mistress” (i.e., Gilda), bringing her to the duke so he can have his way with her. Rigoletto vows revenge and hires an assassin. Despite knowing the duke’s a no-good scoundrel, Gilda sacrifices herself to save him. Idiot. As Rigoletto dumps the wrapped corpse in the river, he hears the duke singing and discovers it’s Gilda who’s dead. Aw, sad, frowny clown.

Sung in: Italian
Memorable Music: “La donna è mobile”

Rigoletto was originally titled La maledizione (The Curse) after the curse placed on Rigoletto by Count Monterone, here played by Reginald Smith Jr. in his SFO debut. Photo by Cory Weaver.

While Rigoletto is one of my favorite operas from a musical standpoint and I’m happy to see it on stage any chance I get, I wasn’t thrilled when I realized that this summer production was a revival of the one La Maratonista and I saw in 2012. Back then, when it opened the San Francisco Opera’s 90th season, I was simply thrilled to be beginning our first full season subscription. However, I remembered really disliking the sets and costumes, particularly the mostly orange jester’s outfit, and so I was sorry to see them return. I guess since an orange fool has taken over that other house, it was only a matter of time until one took over our opera house as well.

And I guess it’s good that one of these orange fools can sing. Quinn Kelsey—who I have only seen once before, way back in my first season at the opera, in Madama Butterfly—acquits himself quite well in the lead, although something about his restrained performance seemed to make the character of Rigoletto even less sympathetic to me than usual. I know that reviewers have been fawning over this performance, but I’m just not seeing it. In fact, as happened last time I saw this production, it was Gilda that stood out for me. Nino Machaidze, here in her SFO debut, has such a lovely tone that I could forgive her for being not quite powerful enough on the “È amabile invero cotal giovinotto” trio.

Nino Machaidze as Gilda in Rigoletto. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Another stand out for me was Andrea Silvestrelli as Sparafucile. I’ve seen Silvestrelli loads of times, but he has never stood out for me as he did here. Perhaps it’s because I love “È amabile invero cotal giovinotto” so darn much. Unfortunately, I found Pene Pati to be rather uneven in the role of the Duke of Mantua, but I nevertheless appreciate it when Adler Fellows are given solid roles, rather than appearing merely on the fringes. Speaking of Adler Fellows, it was nice to see Zanda Švēde return as Maddalena.

Pene Pati as the Duke of Mantua in Rigoletto. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Sparafucile (Andrea Silvestrelli) and Maddalena (Zanda Švēde) plot in Rigoletto. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Again, Rigoletto is one of my musical faves so I guess I should be happy that the singing is as strong as it was, but this production still somehow fell flat for me. Sure, the sets were boring (I mean, blather on about De Chirico all you like, but they are still BORING), but I knew that going in. Ultimately, I think where this production failed me is in the direction. The direction is not something I generally comment on, but here I really think it did the opera a disservice. With such a boring set (I mean, can a girl get some furniture in that house?), you need to have dynamic staging. This production didn’t deliver. The crowds at court were okay for the most part, but the blocking and acting of all the leads really lacked energy and conviction.

What didn’t lack energy was the orchestra, which sounded more dynamic, fluid, and articulate than usual. There was some fine piccolo work by Stephanie McNab (and I rarely like the higher instruments) as well as a great moment for what I thought might be a viola but La Belle Chantal thought was a cello. Which leads me to a thought I had while attending The Cleveland Orchestra last month: I would really appreciate a bit of musical information sprinkled into the plot summaries given in the program. I realize it is sometimes very hard to summarize these crazycakes plots—and Rigoletto is one of the worst (see my prior post for a plot assessment that is far longer than 101 words), but would it hurt to also highlight key arias and musical elements (especially soloists) to look out for? I’d much rather have a few of those tidbits handy than the far-too-detailed articles explaining an opera’s composition. Sure, it is nice to have reading for the ride home, but if the San Francisco Opera wants to get more people to the opera house in the future, it might consider helping them appreciate the performance in front of them.

Rigoletto (Quinn Kelsey) and Gilda (Nino Machaidze) in their darkest hour in Rigoletto. Photo by Cory Weaver.

I suppose this comes across as a fairly negative review, which is not my intention. Maybe that other orange fool has simply gotten me down on this one. And whether this bodes well or ill for next week’s Don Giovanni remains to be seen. In any case, despite this nit-picking, Rigoletto remains one of the best operas for newbies and this production is no exception.

Rigoletto is being performed through July 1 at the War Memorial Opera House. Tickets can be purchased here.

Opera 101—2016 Figaro Awards

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Awards, Opera

Sans la liberté de blâmer, il n’est point d’éloge flatteur.
(Without the freedom to criticize, there is no true praise.)

—Le Mariage de Figaro by Pierre Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais

For the sixth year in a row, I hereby present my annual Figaro awards for the best (and worst) operatic moments of the year. All operas seen at the San Francisco Opera in 2016, both in the summer (Jenůfa, Don Carlo, Carmen) and in the fall (Andrea Chénier, Dream of the Red Chamber, Don Pasquale, and Věc Makropulos) are eligible for these beauties. [Side note: I also saw Akhnaten at the L.A. Opera—which was glorious—but, since I have yet to write it up formally, I’ve decided to restrict these awards to the operas I saw in San Francisco.]

Production I would most readily see again: Jenůfa. This was a tough call. Don Carlo was almost my selection here, but ultimately the set design did not impress and the opera is just too darn long. Jenůfa really blew me away, particularly Karita Mattila’s performance, but also Jiří Bělohlávek in the orchestra pit, a role I admittedly don’t usually pay much attention to. The rock metaphor was a bit heavy-handed, but otherwise the spare sets fit the opera’s mood.

Malin Byström (Jenůfa) and Karita Mattila (Kostelnicka Buryjovka) in Jenůfa. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Best ensemble: Don Carlo. This was truly an ensemble piece, from Michael Fabiano in the title role to the strong baritone and bass roles played by Mariusz Kwiecień and René Pape respectively. I’ve never heard male duets as beautiful. The women were no slouches either, from the regal Ana María Martínez as Elisabetta to the feisty Nadia Krasteva as Princess Eboli.

Valentina Simi (Countess of Aremberg), Ana María Martínez (Elisabetta), Nadia Krasteva (Princess Eboli), René Pape (King Philip II) and Mariusz Kwiecien (Rodrigo) in Don Carlo. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Best ensemble (runner-up): Don Pasquale. Although the structure and plot of this opera are ridiculous, the casting made this the most enjoyable opera of the fall season. Maurizio Muraro was a lively Don Pasquale and both Lawrence Brownlee as Ernesto and Heidi Stober as Norina had impeccable comic timing. Rounding out the main players was Adler Fellow Edward Nelson who more than held his own as Dr. Malatesta.

Most improved warhorse: Carmen. While I always appreciate an opera in French, I can’t say I was thrilled about seeing Carmen on the schedule yet again. How wrong I was. Calixto Bieito’s take on this warhorse was distinctly refreshing and made me feel like I was seeing the opera for the first time.

Most disappointing production: Věc Makropulos. I considered not using this category for once because it was such a strong year; however, I can’t deny I had high hopes for this one that ultimately weren’t met. Everything was perfectly fine, but nothing stood out to me in this production after such a long string of hits.

Best set design: Tim Yip for Dream of the Red Chamber. These sets were glorious—detailed, dynamic, and absolutely in sync with the story being told.

Best set design (runner-up): Alfons Flores for Carmen. There were a few missteps in changing the set between Act I and Act II but otherwise I loved his choices, especially the Osborne bull.

Best costumes (tie): Jai Alltizer for Don Carlo and Tim Yip/Kristi Johnson for Dream of the Red Chamber. The costumes used in Don Carlo were pitch perfect, befitting the royal subjects and drama portrayed—velvety rich. The costumes for Dream were beautiful and the sheer volume (in both senses) was impressive.

Best lighting: Adam Silverman for Andrea Chénier. Lighting is not something I generally notice, but I did in the final act of this opera, where the lighting meant that the shadows of the prison bars were cast dramatically across the stage.

Outstanding performance (orchestral): Jiří Bělohlávek leading Jenůfa.

Outstanding performance (male lead): Mariusz Kwiecień as Rodrigo in Don Carlo. This was a tough call in a year with great singing, but Kwiecień’s duets with Michael Fabiano were angelic.

Michael Fabiano as Don Carlo and Mariusz Kwiecień as Rodrigo in Don Carlo. Photo by Dan Honda.

Outstanding performance (female lead): Karita Mattila as Kostelnička in Jenůfa. A stunning performance that made me kick myself yet again for not seeing Věc Makropulos the first time it came around.

Karita Mattila (Kostelnicka Buryjovka) in Jenůfa. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Outstanding performance (couples skate): Irene Roberts as Carmen and Brian Jagde as Don José in Carmen. This couple really sizzled.

Outstanding debut performance (soprano): Malin Byström as Jenůfa in Jenůfa. While Karita Mattila was the star of the show, Byström superbly managed the delicate task of moving from a relatively innocent but passionate youthfulness to an emotional and world-weary angst.

Outstanding debut performance (mezzo) (tie): J’Nai Bridges as Bersi in Andrea Chénier and Hyona Kim as Lady Wang in Dream of the Red Chamber. Bridges impressed in a small role (and I was to enjoy her again as Nefertiti in Akhnaten) while Kim sunk her teeth into the juicy role of Lady Wang.

Hyona Kim as Lady Wang (left) in Dream of the Red Chamber and J’Nai Bridges as Bersi (right) in Andrea Chénier. Photos by Cory Weaver.

Outstanding debut performance (tenor): Lawrence Brownlee as Ernesto in Don Pasquale. How Brownlee maintained such an incredible tone through all the physical comedy required in this production I’ll never know.

Outstanding debut performance (baritone): George Gagnidze as Carlo Gérard in Andrea Chénier. Though basically the third wheel in this opera, Gagnidze outshone his colleagues on opening night, especially with his delivery of “Nemico della patria” in Act III.

George Gagnidze as Carlo Gérard (left) in Andrea Chénier. Lawrence Brownlee as Ernesto (right) in Don Pasquale. Photos by Cory Weaver.

Outstanding performance (Italian): Maurizio Muraro in Don Pasquale. Muraro had quite a bit of spoken text as Don Pasquale and it was refreshingly to hear it from a native Italian.

Outstanding aria: “La mamma morta” from Andrea Chénier, sung by Anna Pirozzi as Maddalena.

Adler Fellow of the year: Edward Nelson in Carmen and Don Pasquale. In Carmen, he elevated the role of Moralès, one I don’t typically notice. In Don Pasquale, where I was looking forward to Lucas Meachem, Nelson more than delivered.

Favorite program cover: Andrea Chénier. How could I not pick this one? Despite the fact that this Delacroix painting depicts the Trois Glorieuses (July Revolution) of 1830, this was a perfect choice for an opera about the French Revolution. Plus, it may prove to be remarkably prescient for our times.

The Charlie Brown award for most rocks: Jenůfa. While I loved this production, the rock metaphor was the most heavy-handed thing I’ve seen in a long time.

The Charlie Brown award for most rocks (runner-up): Dream of the Red Chamber. Seriously what was it with rocks this year?

Pureum Jo as Dai Yu in Dream of the Red Chamber. Photo by Cory Weaver.

The Big Sleep award for most nonsensical plot: Don Pasquale. Why does Dr. Malatesta set up Don Pasquale for a fall? Why does he decide to help Ernesto? When exactly did Norina and Malatesta hatch their scheme? And why is Ernesto not in on it? Why does Pasquale still agree to the wedding once he sees what they’ve done? Even by opera buffa standards, this is ridiculous.

The Big Sleep award for most nonsensical plot (runner-up): Věc Makropulos. Sure, the plot as explained in program notes basically makes sense, but it is not explained in the opera very well so consider yourself forewarned that this is not an opera you want to go into blind.

The Jacques Prévert award for best use of leaves: Dream of the Red Chamber. A lovely bit of stagecraft in Dream was women literally sweeping changing colored falling leaves across the stage to indicate the changing seasons.

The Claire Denis award for most appreciation of the male body: Carmen. Operas in general aren’t known for a tremendous amount of skin, but Calixto Bieito’s production put the male body on display at multiple points. In the opening, a man literally runs circles around the soldiers’ camp in his underwear and at the entr’acte a lone, naked toreador (discreetly shadowed) performs a ritual dance. [Shout-out to L.A Opera’s Akhnaten for being a bit more forthright, with full-frontal front and center.]

The L. Frank Baum award for best Cowardly Lion impersonation: Qiulin Zhang as Granny Jia in Dream of the Red Chamber. Once La Maratonista pointed this out to me at intermission, I just couldn’t control myself every time she sang in the second act.

The Duchess of Cambridge award for best coats: Jenůfa. I coveted the coat on the mayor’s wife, but Quinn also looked quite sharp in his fur-lined number.

Best crowd control: Carmen. Too often, the blocking of the chorus in operas is, well, blocky. Here it was very fluid and natural. Of particular note was the bullfight crowd in the final act where the blocking emphasized how the action between the two leads is simply a mirror of what is happening offstage in the bullring.

Nadja Michael as Emilia Marty surrounded by the ensemble in Věc Makropulos. Photo by Cory Weaver.

And so the clock runs down on another year and another round of Figaros. Given the strength of 2016, I certainly look forward to what the summer season will bring in 2017.

As always, a big shout-out to La Maratonista for being such a great opera companion.

Feel free to comment or argue for your favorite (and not-so-favorite) moments of the season below.

Getting in Formation: The Year in Music

Tags

Media

Bitch, I’m back, by popular demand.

Since it is now more important than ever to shout out and sing out, I’m back again with my favorite singles of the year. My music listening was fairly erratic this year, so it is perhaps no surprise that I bought very few songs from the same album, though I’d like to give a huge shout-out to Queen Bey for the glorious Lemonade.

In fact, let’s start out by getting in formation, shall we?

Best in Beyoncé: Beyoncé, “Formation” (Lemonade). Yeah, I’ll never tire of this one. And I have no doubt I will need it in the days to come.

Best in Bluegrass: Marlon Williams, “Hello Miss Lonesome” (Marlon Williams). Alt-country by way of New Zealand.

Best in Boston: Honeysuckle, “It’s Getting Late” (Honeysuckle). I just can’t seem to get enough banjos lately.

Best in Blossoming: Lucy Dacus, “I Don’t Want to Be Funny Anymore” (No Burden). An incredible song about breaking out of the box you’ve been put in.

Best in Binary: John K. Samson, “PostDoc Blues” (Winter Wheat). Oh, Mr. Samson (aka the frontman of The Weakerthans), you had me at PowerPoint.

Best in Boyfriends: Margaret Glaspy, “Emotions and Math” (Emotions and Math). Normally this category is something the Math Greek has sent me during the year. This year, however, it’s a long-distance dedication from me to the MG. “Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars.”

Best in Brians: The Gift featuring Brian Eno, “Love Without Violins” (EP). A lesson in how to build a song from the ground up and gradually reel in the listener layer by layer.

Best in Bumming Around: Fialta, “Do the Best We Can” (Shadow of a Drought). As a Californian by adoption, the lyrics of this song really resonated, especially “shadow of a drought.”

Best in Borealis: Zeds Dead, “Too Young” (Northern Lights). I’m not a big fan of electronic music in general, but I couldn’t resist this one for some reason.

Best in Birds and Bees: The Monkees, “You Bring the Summer” (Good Times). Absolutely infectious. The perfect summer song.

Best in Brash: Lizzo, “Good as Hell” (Coconut Oil). A real pick-me-up for when you need an extra boost of confidence.

Baby, how you feelin’?

Best in Bounce: Sylvan Esso, “Radio” (Single). Like their “H.S.K.T.” (from my 2014 round-up), “Radio” is a bouncy number whose catchiness belies its lyrics.

Best in the Bay (Chesapeake edition): Maggie Rogers, “Alaska” (Single). I look forward to hearing a complete album from this viral sensation. In any case, this is a great start.

Best in the Bay (Oaktown edition): Fantastic Negrito, “Working Poor” (The Last Days of Oakland). I have a feeling I’m going to be significantly adding to my blues collection in the upcoming years.

Best in Beats: The Roots, “My Shot (Rise Up Remix)” (The Hamilton Mixtape). Just when you thought Hamilton couldn’t get any better.

Speaking of rising up… regardless of what any election results might suggest, black lives still matter and women’s rights are human rights. Sorry, haters.

#Resist

* Note to email subscribers, there is embedded video in this post that may not appear in your email. Please click through to the actual post to see the complete list of selections.

Opera 101—There Can Be Only One

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Janáček, Opera

Nadja Michael as Emilia Marty, aka Elina Makropulos, in Věc Makropulos. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Leoš Janáček, Věc Makropulos (The Makropoulos Case) (1926)

Based on: a play by Karel Čapek
Setting: Prague, 1920s
Sung in: Czech

Plot in 101 words or less: Sit back and enjoy the gripping tale of… the century-long court case, Gregor v. Prus. Say what? Open on… a law clerk filing papers. WTF? I dressed up for this! Enter… a beautiful blonde. Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. The blonde is Emilia Marty, aka Eugenia Montez, aka Ellian MacGregor, aka Elina Makropulos, a 300-year-old woman who doesn’t look a day over 29 (35 tops). Highlander-style, she’s adopted various identities over the years. Might I suggest “opera singer” isn’t the best cover? Nevertheless, Emilia intervenes in the case to obtain a hidden life-prolonging formula. Shockingly, things don’t quite go as planned.

I had a New Year’s Eve like this once. In fact, perhaps more than once. Photo by Gabrielle Lurie of The Chronicle.

This was not the first production of Vec Makropoulos I have attended—that would be the 2013 Opéra de Paris production—and I doubt it will be the last. As I wrote back when I reviewed Jenůfa in the summer, I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all three Janáček’s operas I’ve seen; however, I can’t say I’ve loved either production of the convoluted plot of Makropoulos. While both productions had their merits, I think I appreciate the restraint shown by the San Francisco Opera more than the over-the-top iconography used in Paris. And whoever thought I’d be saying that?

I understand that the Paris production was making a statement on beauty, age, and stardom by using repeated projections of Marilyn Monroe, King Kong, Sunset Blvd, and the like, but it was all an unexplained jumble. Plus, how many people can identify clips of Norma Desmond off-hand? I much preferred the clock as passing time metaphor used here, which was only emphasized by the stark black and white set. I’m less clear on why the setting seems to be mid-twentieth century rather than the 1920s, but that’s a small detail.

Emilia Marty has a Norma Desmond moment. Photo by Cory Weaver.

The cast, led by Nadja Michael as Emilia Marty, acquitted themselves very well. Of particular note were Charles Workman as Albert Gregor and Brenton Ryan as Janek Prus, both of whom were making their San Francisco debut.

Nadja Michael as Emilia Marty and Charles Workman as Albert Gregor in Věc Makropulos. Photos by Cory Weaver.

I also appreciated the innocence conveyed by Adler Fellow Julie Adams in her portrayal of young superfan Kristina and thought it served as an interesting contrast to Michael’s Marty, who was more fierce and cold than tragic.

Backstage at the opera. Photo by Cory Weaver.

In short, I thought this was a very strong production (and probably in any other year it would have stood out for me) but, after such a strong summer and fall, it was a bit of a disappointing close to our SFO season.

Opera 101— Easter Candy

Tags

Bel Canto, Opera

Gaetano Donizetti, Don Pasquale (1843)
Based on: a libretto by Angelo Anelli
Setting: Rome, early 19th century

Plot in 101 words or less: Don Pasquale (street name: Easter Bunny) decides to cut off his nephew, Ernesto (street name: The Determinator). Somehow he thinks getting married himself will help accomplish this. For who knows what reason, his doctor, Malatesta (street name: Head Trip), arranges to “help” by marrying Pasquale to his sister, Sofronia (street name: Nuns-R-Us), who is in reality Norina (street name: Scout’s Honor), Ernesto’s lover in disguise. Again, for who knows what reason, Malatesta does not immediately inform Ernesto of this plan. After being “married” by a false notary, Sofronia/Norina becomes impossible so that Pasquale will want to “divorce” her. Wackiness ensues.

Sung in: Italian

Don Pasquale’s world is literally turned upside down by the machinations of Dr. Malatesta. Photo by Cory Weaver.

The brilliant fall season at San Francisco Opera continues apace with Don Pasquale, a delightful bel canto comedy by Gaetano Donizetti. While I think there are more than a few problems with the structure and plot of this piece, San Francisco Opera has brought together an incredible cast and creative staging to make the most of this work.

First, the cast. Maurizio Muraro is a lively and sympathetic Don Pasquale, Lawrence Brownlee’s Ernesto won me over with his incredible tone and physical comedy, Heidi Stober was as charming as ever as the duplicitous Norina, and Adler Fellow Edward Nelson more than held his own as Dr. Malatesta, despite my initial disappointment we weren’t seeing Lucas Meachem.

Lawrence Brownlee as Ernesto maintained an incredible tone through all sorts of physical comedy. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Second, the staging. While the sets and costumes here naturally pale in comparison to those found in Andrea Chénier and Dream of the Red Chamber, the design team of Laurent Pelly (direction, costume design) and Chantal Thomas (set design)—whose Les Contes d’Hoffmann I adored—make the most of an opera that doesn’t really lend itself to creativity in this regard.

All of this window dressing is assisted by some lovely musical numbers and numerous comic opportunities. I think I heard more spontaneous and hearty laughter during this production than any other I’ve seen.

Heidi Stober as Norina as Sofronia and Maurizio Muraro as Don Pasquale. Photo by Cory Weaver.

However, I do think the plot holes are rather egregious, even for an opera buffa. Why does Dr. Malatesta set up Don Pasquale for a fall in the first place? Why does he decide to help Ernesto? When exactly did Norina and Malatesta hatch their scheme? And why is Ernesto not in on it? Why does Pasquale still agree to the wedding once he sees what they’ve done? It all could have used more development. And, at only two hours and thirty minutes with intermission, it certainly had the room.

Speaking of which, I’m not sure why this production didn’t have an intermission between Act I and Act II. It seemed very odd to go so long without a break and then have such a short final act—especially in a comedy. But I suppose these are minor quibbles, Don Pasquale was really quite fun.

Maurizio Muraro is a lively old bachelor in Don Pasquale. Photo by Cory Weaver.

There are three more performances of Don Pasquale at the War Memorial Opera House on October 7, 12, and 15. Run, don’t walk, to see this delightful confection!