Opera Plots in 101 Words or Less, Act III

Tags

Opera, Wagner

In the third act of our series on concise opera plots, it’s all German all the time. Specifically Wagner, or, as I like to think of him, Vague-ner. Not that he’s vague so much as his plots seem to wander all over the place, much like a hobbit on his way to Mount Doom.

You may remember that I promised this post way back in May 2015, after writing the first two acts of this plot production. At the time, I had recorded HD versions of the Metropolitan Opera’s entire “Ring” cycle on my trusty DVR, which turned out to be not so trusty. And so, watching and summarizing Wagner’s epic masterpiece was put on hold. Until now.*

As in my posts on the warhorses, I’ll be sticking to 101 words or less** per opera. It almost makes me wish I spoke German, since then I could use really long words.

I’ve included the three other Wagner operas I’ve seen live (Der Fliegende Holländer, Lohengrin, and Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg) in this post, but it focuses on the oft-quoted Der Ring des Nibelungen, a series of four “music-dramas” that tell the story of a little person who forges a magic gold ring of power that everybody covets. Also, there’s a sword that needs to be pieced back together. Sound familiar?

Both rings were round, and there the resemblance ceases.

—Sure, Tolkien, whatever you say.

SPOILER ALERT: There are no puppies or unicorns, but there is a rainbow. Who says Germans aren’t lighthearted?

Richard Wagner, Der Fliegende Holländer (The Flying Dutchman) (1843)
Based on: a retelling of the Flying Dutchman legend by Heinrich Heine
Notable Cultural Reference: Captain Video and His Video Rangers
Setting: Norway, 18th century

Storms + sleepy watchman = stealth ghost ship. Math is fun! Enter the Dutchman, cursed to roam the seas until he finds someone faithful unto death. Since Captain Daland values gold more than his daughter, he invites the stranger home. Cue Senta, who’s hanging with her friends, spinning and singing, as girls do. The stranger looks exactly like Senta’s Tiger Beat Dutchman portrait, so she’s all in. Unfortunately, ex Erik strives to remain relevant and his whining drives the Dutchman away. Senta throws herself into the sea, thereby lifting the curse. Like dogs, they all go to heaven, so it’s cool.

Sung in: German
Memorable Music: Overture, “Summ’ und brumm’, du gutes Rädchen” (aka the Spinning Chorus)

Richard Wagner, Lohengrin (1850)
Based on: medieval German romance; the chanson de geste Garin le Loherain
Notable Cultural Reference: Father of the Bride and every wedding you’ve ever attended
Setting: Antwerp, 10th century

Swan, swan, hummingbird, swan. Actually, scratch that, there’s no hummingbird. There’s also no baby duke Gottfried! Count Friedrich accuses Elsa, Gottfried’s sister, of foul play so he can rule instead. Visiting King Henry decrees God will judge through single combat. A knight appears (via swan boat) to fight for and marry Elsa; however, she can’t ask his name or birthplace. She eventually does. Nosy parker. So, Lohengrin, knight of the Holy Grail and protector extraordinaire, must leave. And… swan. OMG, baby Gottfried is a f*cking swan, y’all. Ortrud’s a witch and cursed him ages ago. Elsa, stricken with grief, falls dead.

Sung in: German
Memorable Music: “Treulich geführt” (aka the Bridal Chorus, aka “Here Comes the Bride”)

Richard Wagner, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (1868)
Based on: an original story by Richard Wagner
Notable Cultural Reference: Triumph of the Will
Setting: Nuremberg, 16th century

Knight Walther, in town on business, spots Eva and falls hard. Alas! Eva is to marry whoever wins the local song contest. David, who crushes on Eva’s companion Magdalene, explains the rules of mastersinging (it’s a thing, okay?). Walther can do this, no problem (he can’t). Burgermeister Meisterburger Beckmesser, who also wants to marry Eva, fumes. He serenades a disguised Magdalene by accident, much to the dismay of David. Fight! Fight! Walther (literally) dreams up the perfect song and cobbler Sachs stirs the pot by ensuring Beckmesser plays the fool. For some reason, this takes almost six hours to play out.

Sung in: German

Greer Grimsley as Wotan in San Francisco Opera’s Der Ring des Nibelungen. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Richard Wagner, Der Ring des Nibelungen (The Ring of the Nibelung) (1876)
Based on: Norse sagas and a medieval German epic poem
Length (with no intermission): 15 hours

The “Ring” cycle consists of four operas intended to be performed together in sequence: Das Rheingold (The Rhine Gold), Die Walküre (The Valkyrie), Siegfried, and Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods, or, as I like to say, Goddamn It’s Long). They tell the story of the theft of the Rhine gold and the forging of it into a magic ring of power and the tragedies that befall those who possess it. The four operas total about fifteen hours (without intermission) and follow multiple generations of mortal men and gods. Balance is only restored when the ring is destroyed by fire. Think The Lord of the Rings, but with more women.

The Rhinemaidens and Alberich in Das Rheingold. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Richard Wagner, Das Rheingold (The Rhine Gold) (1869)
Notable Cultural Reference: Xena: Warrior Princess: “The Rheingold”
Length (with no intermission): 2 hours, 30 minutes

Pretty but dumb Rhinemaidens let dwarf Alberich steal the Rhine gold and forge a magic ring of “boundless might.” Meanwhile, Wotan and Fricka build a shiny new castle but won’t pay contractors Fasolt and Fafner, so the giant brothers take Fricka’s sister Freia hostage. When the gods realize they can’t live without Freia’s Fountain of Youth™ apples, Wotan and sidekick Loge trick Alberich and steal his ring as ransom. Alberich curses his “precious” to bring woe to all who possess it. Gold, gold, gold. Bicker, bicker, bicker. Fafner clubs Fasolt to death. Everybody else scampers over the rainbow bridge to Valhalla.

Sung in: German
Memorable Music: “Bin ich nun frei” (aka Alberich’s Curse)

Tough love from Wotan in Die Walküre. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Richard Wagner, Die Walküre (The Valkyrie) (1870)
Notable Cultural Reference: Apocalypse Now; Bugs Bunny: “What’s Opera, Doc?”
Length (with two intermissions): 4 hours, 30 minutes

Siegmund is on the run. He shelters with unhappy wife Sieglinde and husband Hunding, recounting his tale of woe. (Mother dead! Sister abducted!) Siegmund and Sieglinde have the hots for each other, but, gross, they’re twins. Remember cheapskate Wotan from Rheingold? He’s their father! Wotan instructs favorite Valkyrie daughter Brünnhilde to protect Siegmund, but Fricka wants to punish the couple. Brünnhilde tries to save Siegmund but only manages a pregnant Sieglinde and a shattered sword. Wotan leaves Brünnhilde sleeping on a rock surrounded by a ring of fire. As you do. The Valkyries are all sound and fury, signifying nothing. Cowards.

Sung in: German
Memorable Music: Hojotoho! (aka Ride of the Valkyries)

Nine Valkyries? Hey, aren’t there nine Nazgûl? I thought so.

—Me, just now.

“Renewed shall be blade that was broken…” by Daniel Brenna as the eponymous Siegfried. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Richard Wagner, Siegfried (1876)
Notable Cultural Reference: Django Unchained
Length (with two intermissions): 4 hours, 50 minutes

We open on Mime, brother of ringmaker-heartbreaker Alberich, who has, in a not-at-all-suspicious twist, adopted the fearless son of Sieg². It’s a small world after all. Mime thinks Siegfried can get him the One Ring. You remember, the one with the fratricidal giant Fafner? FYI: He’s now a dragon (don’t ask). Strider the “Wanderer” arrives and poses a few riddles, Siegfried drinks blood and learns to speak bird (again, don’t ask), and Mime gets what’s coming to him. A broken sword is forged anew, a spear is shattered, and Siegfried awakens a sleeping Brünnhilde with a kiss. Also, there’s a bear.

Sung in: German
Memorable Music: Siegfried’s Horn Call

At first, Siegfried mistakes Brünnhilde for a man and, when he removes her armor, cries ‘That is no man!’ My god, Tolkien, you are shameless.

—Still me.

Iréne Theorin as Brünnhilde in Götterdämmerung. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Richard Wagner, Götterdämmerung (Twilight of the Gods) (1876)
Notable Cultural Reference: Excalibur
Length (with two intermissions): 5 hours, 15 minutes

Norns of Exposition™ provide a “previously on” and serious foreshadowing. Siegfried puts a ring on it, but eventually bails, heading straight into the hands of those plotting against him, including Hagen, Alberich’s son. Very, very long story short, Siegfried is mindwiped and gets the One Ring back, earning Brünnhilde’s wrath. Meanwhile, Wotan moans about losing his spear (not a euphemism) and prepares for the worst. Tricksy Hagen kills twice over to get the ring but a ghostly Siegfried says “Nein!” Brünnhilde takes one for the team, riding the ring straight into the fires of Mount Doom. Fire and flood cleanse all.

Sung in: German
Memorable Music: Siegfried’s Funeral March

San Francisco Opera’s Der Ring des Nibelungen. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Tune in next time for the unknown, but not unsung, at least when it comes to the movies. I promise it won’t take me three years.

*I’d like to give a special shout out to the woman who couldn’t use her own set of tickets to the San Francisco Opera’s most recent production of The Ring as well as @revgirrl who got them for me. I didn’t always agree with the staging or production choices, but the singing was fantastic across the board. Bravo!

**If you are thinking of commenting that this should be “fewer” instead, please read this first.

Opera 101—The Gondoliers Redux

Tags

Gilbert and Sullivan, Opera

In enterprise of martial kind,
When there was any fighting,
He led his regiment from behind —
He found it less exciting.
But when away his regiment ran,
His place was at the fore, O —
That celebrated,
Cultivated,
Underrated
Nobleman,
The Duke of Plaza-Toro!
—“In enterprise of martial kind,” The Gondoliers

 

Search in and out and round about,
And you’ll discover never
A tale so free from every doubt —
All probable, possible shadow of doubt —
All possible doubt whatever
—“I stole the Prince” The Gondoliers

 

Michael Desnoyers as Marco and Samuel Rabinowitz as Giuseppe in Gilbert & Sullivan’s The Gondoliers. Photo by David Allen.

After what seemed a whirlwind week of social activity—including multiple outings to the Noir City festival at the Castro Theatre, hearing the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra and Gautier Capuçon at Davies Symphony Hall,* and attending the San Francisco Ballet—I was somewhat worried I wouldn’t have the energy for yet another one. And on Super Bowl Sunday no less! However, I should never have doubted that the seemingly boundless energy of my faithful Lamplighters would boost me up (no possible doubt whatever). Of course, my delicious brunch ahead of time at Trace also contributed to my excellent mood. [Side note: le croque-madame est à tomber!]

It also helped that the Gilbert & Sullivan operetta I was seeing was The Gondoliers, which is swiftly becoming one of my favorites. For this isn’t the first time I have seen the Lamplighters perform this piece, I also saw their 2012 production and you can see my summary of the topsy-turvy plot here.

While the cast for that production was fantastic, I think this one was even better. Familiar faces included Amy Foote and Charles Martin, who returned in their respective roles of Gianetta and the Grand Inquisitor. Michael Desnoyers was also a returning player from the 2012 cast, although this time as Marco, one of the gondoliers in question, rather than Luiz, the Duke of Plaza-Toro’s attendant. Speaking of the Duke of Plaza-Toro, that role was filled by long-time favorite F. Lawrence Ewing, who I have seen previously in H.M.S. Pinafore, The Mikado, and twice in The Yeoman of the Guard. Patricia Westley, last seen as Elsie Maynard in Yeomen, played the Duke’s daughter, Casilda. I don’t remember this character making very much of an impression on me last time, but Westley really shone in the role, as did Cary Ann Rosko as her mother and Patrick Hagen as Luiz, her secret beau. Samuel Rabinowitz, who played Giuseppe, is not someone I’ve seen before, but he was a great match for his “brother from another mother” Marco. Finally, I was rather impressed with two newcomers to the Lamplighters stage: Whitney Steele, who played Tessa, and Dian S. Meechai, who played Giulia. I look forward to seeing them again.

F. Lawrence Ewing and Cary Ann Rosko as the Duke and Duchess of Plaza Toro (left) and Patricia Westley as Casilda (right). Photo by David Allen.

And really, I think that is the great lesson from this production. I need to make more of an effort to get out and see the Lamplighters and maybe even subscribe again to the next season or two.

Note: The Gondoliers is the Lamplighters’ second production of the 2017–2018 season. They will close out the season with a singalong Iolanthe in March.

*You may remember that the last (and first!) time I heard Capuçon play I did not love the piece selected. This time around, he was part of an all-around excellent program including Debussy’s Petite Suite, Haydn’s Cello Concerto No. 1 in C Major, and Stravinsky’s The Firebird.

Opera 101—Bang a Gong, Get It On

Tags

Fashion, Opera, Puccini

Calaf contemplates risking it all in Turandot. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Giacomo Puccini, Turandot (1921–1926)
Based on: the plays Turandot by Carlo Gozzi and Turandot, Prinzessin von China by Friedrich Schiller
Notable Cultural Reference: Mission: Impossible – Rogue Nation; Paul Potts audition for Britain’s Got Talent
Setting: Peking, Imperial China

Plot in 101 words or less: A used and abused ancestor has turned the beautiful Princess Turandot against all men. [Insert obligatory #notallmen reference here.] Any man seeking her hand must answer three riddles correctly or lose his head. Never a gender to lack confidence, plenty have rung the challenge gong and failed, but Calaf is sure he’ll succeed despite all advice to the contrary. Meanwhile, ministers Ping, Pang, and Pong wish Turandot were more “likeable” because of course. SPOILER ALERT: Calaf guesses the riddles! Unsatisfied, he manages to create a situation whereby slave girl Liù sacrifices herself because he once smiled at her. Because of course.

Sung in: Italian
Memorable Music: “Nessun dorma”

Martina Serafin as Princess Turandot in Turandot. Photo by Cory Weaver.

I was a bit disappointed when I realized that opening night of the 2017–2018 San Francisco Opera season was going to be Turandot—since I had already seen this production back in 2011 and I remember hating the sets and costumes. Well, the good news is that the sets weren’t as bad as I remembered (though, after four uses they are probably ready for retirement), but the bad news is that the costumes were still mostly god-awful. I mean really…

Raymond Aceto as Timur, Toni Marie Palmertree as Liù, and Brian Jagde as Calaf in Turandot. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Musically speaking, I think this was a stronger production than in 2011 and, what’s more, I could better appreciate it this time because I’ve seen so many other operas in between. Brian Jagde, the former Adler Fellow who so impressed me in Tosca, and, more recently, Carmen, delivered an excellent “Nessun dorma” and Martina Serafin was very convincing as Turandot, particularly when she had her change of heart in Act III. While it is hard to beat Leah Crocetto’s excellent Liù, last-minute replacement Adler Fellow Toni Marie Palmertree did a respectable job, especially in her final number. Raymond Aceto made more of an impression as Timor this time around.

Ping, Pang, Pong contemplate Turandot’s bloody reign in Turandot. Photo by Cory Weaver.

That little one sure can sing!

—my neighbor upon Toni Marie Palmertree’s curtain call

As for those other costumes, I have to say, I didn’t love many of the dresses that made the Chronicle‘s opening night society wrap-up, but two beautiful items that I thought were also on point thematically are below.

Left: Yuka Uehara of Tokyo Gamine in her own creation. Right: Sara Griffith’s inspired modification of her grandmother’s jewelry box. Photos by Gabrielle Lurie for the Chronicle.

Luckily, I managed to surreptitiously snap a few pics of my own for posterity.

  

  

  

There are five more performances of Turandot at the War Memorial Opera House this month, on September 12, 15, 21, 24, and 30. Then it comes back again at the end of the season on November 18, 25, and 28 and December 3, 6, and 9. So there’s no excuse for missing this one. Tickets can be purchased here.

Riddle me this: All’s well that ends well? Photo by Cory Weaver.

Opera 101—The Yeomen of the Guard Redux

Tags

Gilbert and Sullivan, Opera

I have a song to sing, O
Sing me your song, O
It is sung to the moon by a love-lorn loon
Who fled from the mocking throng-o
It’s the song of a merry man moping mum
Whose soul was sad and his glance was glum
Who sipped no sup and who craved no crumb
As he sighed for the love of a lady
 
Hey-di, hey-di, misery me, lack-a-day-de
He sipped no sup and he craved no crumb
As he sighed for the love of a lady

 
This past weekend, to celebrate the arrival of my cousin to the Bay Area (along with her thirtieth birthday), I took in a repeat performance of The Yeomen of the Guard by the Lamplighters Music Theatre. This was one of the first Lamplighter productions I ever saw and is the only one I have seen a second time. But it likely won’t be the last, as it looks like I have caught up in the Gilbert & Sullivan cycle to where I was when I first started subscribing in 2010. Unfortunately, because I haven’t been able to subscribe the past few years, I have missed a few key works that likely won’t come back into the rotation for some time.

In any case, this piece remains a delight, even though it has probably the saddest subject matter of all of Gilbert & Sullivan’s operettas. I was also happy to see that, with the help of supertitles, my French cousin, henceforth to be known in these pages as La Chinoise, seemed to get most of it. I guess even the tricky wordplay of Gilbert & Sullivan is nothing next to the Chinese she has been trying to follow for the past few years living in Shanghai.

While Jack Point was the ever-reliable F. Lawrence Ewing, most of the cast were new to me. Of particular note was Samuel Faustine who played Colonel Fairfax; I loved his clear tone and hope to see him again on the Yerba Buena stage very soon. His eventual partner in wedded bliss, Elsie Maynard, was played by Patricia Westley, who proved to be a serious counterpoint to Ewing on the lovely duet cited above. Rounding out the rather strong female half of the cast were Erin O’Meally as Phoebe and Sonia Gariaeff as Dame Carruthers. Another Lamplighter regular, Robby Stafford, played “man with the plan” Sergeant Meryll. Charles Martin was okay as Wilfred Shadbolt, but seemed a bit too old for the part.

Samuel Faustine as Colonel Fairfax (left) and F. Lawrence Ewing and Patricia Westley as Jack Point and Elsie Maynard (right).

Yeomen is the Lamplighters first production of the 2017-2018 season. They will continue the season next year in February with The Gondoliers (or The King of Barataria) and then close it out in March with a singalong version of Iolanthe, which I normally might not attend but since it is one of the major works that I haven’t seen yet (as well as my dad’s favorite), I may just have to suffer through the whole singing along thing.

Opera 101—Don the Con

Tags

Mozart, Opera

The Commendatore (Andrea Silvestrelli) is all of us when considering Don the Con (Ildebrando D’Arcangelo). Photo by Cory Weaver.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Don Giovanni (1787)
Based on: the legends of Don Juan
Notable Cultural Reference: Amadeus, Screamers
Setting: Seville, 17th century

Plot in 101 words or less: Don Giovanni is a piece of work and serial rapist to boot. Fleeing his latest victim, Anna, he kills the Commendatore, her father. Anna and fiancé Ottavio swear vengeance against this unknown assailant. One of over 2000 (!!) abandoned conquests, Elvira is also looking for vengeance. When Giovanni tries to sex up bride Zerlina, Elvira reveals all and teams up with Anna and Ottavio. Sadly, this hapless trio lets Giovanni escape. But, never fear, the cold dish of revenge is served by the Commendatore, whose statue comes alive to attend a fabulous banquet where demons drag Giovanni down to hell. Well played.

Sung in: Italian
Memorable Music: “Madamina, il catalogo è questo”

Donna Elvira (Ana María Martínez), Donna Anna (Erin Wall), and Don Ottavio (Stanislas de Barbeyrac) crash Don the Con’s party. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Are you sensing a theme in my Opera 101 titles? Good, because I’m beyond tired of this sh*t. It is hard to muse about culture when nearly every moment of your waking life is dominated by a revival of your childhood fears of Russian domination and nuclear annihilation, not to mention Nazis (and I’m not talking about Star Wars or Raiders, but rather my mother, whose guilt-inducement method of choice generally involved stories of her own childhood during the Nazi invasion and Occupation of France). Good times.

Some people, like Masetto (Michael Sumuel), don’t play when it comes to Don the Con. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Anyhoo, I’ve written before about Don Giovanni in a very personal post going back to the early days of this blog, so I will not talk too much about the opera itself here. I thought this SFO production was to be the same as the one La Maratonista and I saw back in 2011 but in fact it was a modified version of that one and felt quite different. The staging was altered and the set pieces were “enhanced” by projections by Tommi Brem. While I was happy to see them use the mirrors more effectively, I couldn’t help but wish the projections they chose were more interesting. Instead, they looked a little goofy.

Like I need more images of Don the Con (Ildebrando D’Arcangelo) in my life. Photo by Cory Weaver.

What was interesting to me about rewatching this production was how I experienced completely different high points than I did previously. Whether this was due to the director’s production choices or the cast’s singing, I’m not sure, but numbers I had looked forward to hearing again, such as Leporello’s list and Zerlina’s “Batti, batti, o bel Masetto” left me sort of meh, while I found myself admiring never-before noticed gems such as the arias sung by Donna Anna and Don Ottavio.

Don Ottavio (Stanislas de Barbeyrac) and Donna Anna (Erin Wall) are just as horrified by Don the Con as we are. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Singing-wise, the cast acquitted themselves quite well, though overall I found them less successful in their roles than my previous Don Giovanni outing. While Ildebrando D’Arcangelo was certainly a living embodiment of the Don Juan type, he was not to my physical taste, and I didn’t buy Erin Wall as Donna Anna at all. Sarah Shafer, last seen as Rosetta in Two Women, seemed perfect for the youthful role of Zerlina, but didn’t captivate me like Kate Lindsey did. And the same could be said for her Masetto, Michael Sumuel, who I so loved in Serse. Three exceptions to this general disappointment were Stanislas de Barbeyrac, making his SFO debut as Don Ottavio, Ana María Martínez (last seen as Elisabetta in Don Carlo), who elevated the role of Donna Elvira, and Andrea Silvestrelli, who seems to be on a roll these days.

Ana María Martínez as Donna Elvira, giving some glorious side-eye to Don the Con’s right-hand man in Don Giovanni. Photo by Cory Weaver.

One final note, for this production, I was able to score box seats using one of my subscription voucher upgrades, which was a nice reward for the generous @FyodorFish, who got to watch his first opera in style. Unfortunately, the box was on the far right side of the stage, which wasn’t great for viewing the new projections, but meant I could play Julia Roberts to my heart’s content and look down on “the band” below me, led by Marc Minkowski in a terrific SFO debut.