Opera 101—Orange Foolius

Tags

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— “Fetch… the comfy chair!”

Tags

Opera, Verdi

René Pape as King Philip II and Michael Fabiano as Don Carlo in Giuseppe Verdi’s Don Carlo. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Giuseppe Verdi, Don Carlo (1867)
Based on: a play by Friedrich Schiller
Setting: Madrid, mid-16th century
Sung in: Italian

Plot in 101 words or less: Don Carlo, heir to Philip II, falls for French princess Elisabetta while traveling on the down low in Fontainebleau. She’s like, same. But, wait, she needs to marry King Philip to keep the peace between France and Spain. No bueno. What’s a not-poor boy to do? I know, save Flanders! Buddy Rodrigo is all over that and swears eternal friendship. Dad and Carlo cross swords and jealous Princess Eboli (for realz?) sets Queen Elisabetta up for a fall. Rodrigo ends up sacrificing himself for Carlo, who nevertheless gets dragged off by a ghost. What?!? Moral: No one expects the Spanish Inquisition.

Fear and surprise… and ruthless efficiency all on display in Don Carlo. Photo by Cory Weaver.

I was a bit wary of Don Carlo given its length (four hours and thirty minutes, including two intermissions), but was pleasantly surprised to enjoy almost every minute. And it had a lot to live up to after Jenůfa. This has turned out to be an incredible summer season at the San Francisco Opera.

The thing that struck me most about this opera was how utterly believable it was. I’m not sure how to explain, but usually these highly dramatic works involving illustrious personages seem emotionally distant to me. I just don’t often buy that the characters are real people. Not here. My companion (La Maratonista being off in the wilds of Wyoming) agreed and thought it had a lot to do with foreshadowing and structure. Maybe it was just that the singing was so darn good. Because was it ever.

I was expecting as much from Michael Fabiano, who we last saw in Luisa Miller where he unfortunately had zero chemistry with his leading lady, but who had thoroughly impressed me in his SFO debut in Lucrezia Borgia, as Edgardo in the Lucia di Lammermoor I saw in Paris, and as Rodolfo in La bohème, a production I awarded a 2014 Figaro for Best Ensemble.

Michael Fabiano as the eponymous hero in Don Carlo. Photo by Cory Weaver.

What I hadn’t expected was the stellar singing surrounding him, especially from the men, which is where I generally tend to find fault. Fabiano’s duets with baritone Mariusz Kwiecień as Rodrigo were quite simply angelic. Bass René Pape as Philip II proved an excellent regal counterpoint to both of them, but also tender and frail with wife Elisabetta, played by Ana María Martínez in a remarkably controlled manner that was perfect for the character. Throw in a fierce Nadia Krasteva (in her SFO debut) as Princess Eboli and it is hard to imagine this cast won’t take home the Figaro for Best Ensemble in December.

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

Michael Fabiano as Don Carlo and Nadia Krasteva as Princess Eboli in Don Carlo. Photo by Cory Weaver.

The sparsely dressed sets, especially in the first few acts were somewhat disappointing, but they improved as the opera went on. Still, I expected something grander. The costumes were impeccable. Princess Eboli’s dress in Act IV was to die for; it looked velvety rich. You can see some of the details of the costumes in the video below:

There is just one more performance of Don Carlo at the War Memorial Opera House on June 29. Catch it if you can.

René Pape as King Philip II in Don Carlo. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Opera 101—2015 Figaro Awards

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Awards, Bel Canto, Berlioz, Donizetti, Musicals, Opera, Verdi, Wagner

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

As email subscribers have by now realized, I finally got around to finishing my half-written posts on the final three operas I saw this past fall. Despite these operas being distant memories, I felt I should still bestow my annual Figaro Awards, though I’ve also backdated this post to December when I usually publish this wrap-up.

All operas seen at the San Francisco Opera in 2015, both in the summer (Les Troyens, Le nozze di Figaro, La Ciociara [Two Women]) and in the fall (Luisa Miller, Sweeney Todd, Lucia di Lammermoor, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg, and The Fall of the House of Usher) are eligible for these beauties.

Production I would most readily see again: Les Troyens. This was a no-brainer as it was the only production this past year that I left thinking I wanted to see it again. Les Troyens really had it all: star performances, glorious music, striking sets, and an impressively conducted orchestra.

A horse is a horse, of course, of course. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Best ensemble: Les Troyens. Again, this opera comes out on top (though Luisa Miller and Lucia di Lammermoor weren’t too far behind). But it is hard to deny this cast, which included the star power of Susan Graham, the standout performance of Anna Caterina Antonacci, the fortitude of last-minute replacement Corey Bix, and my perennial favorite, Sasha Cooke.

Most disappointing production: The Fall of the House of Usher. I’m not sure what I expected from a double bill of Usher House and La Chute de la Maison Usher, but it was something better than this. Let us speak of it nevermore.

Least memorable production: Le nozze di Figaro. This was not part of our subscription but rather part of an incredible prize package from the San Francisco Opera that La Maratonista and I won by tweeting a picture of ourselves with the War Memorial Opera House chandelier. The production was perfectly fine, but I was so tipsy from all we had drunk at our free prize dinner that I don’t really remember much of it (which is a bit sad since we had box seats).

Best production design: Es Devlin in Les Troyens. Are you sensing a theme? I had so many issues with the production choices this past year that this was a clear winner.

Les Troyens à Carthage. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Best costumes: Luisa Miller. While much of what was here was merely serviceable, the red-velvet riding outfits took this production over the top.

The ensemble in Luisa Miller didn’t get horses to ride but they did get gorgeous riding coats. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Outstanding performance (orchestral): Donald Runnicles deftly leading the massive orchestra and chorus in Les Troyens.

Outstanding performance (male lead): Piotr Beczała as Edgardo in Lucia di Lammermoor. Simply a revelation. Standout performance of the season.

Edgardo (Piotr Beczala) in the arms of Lucia (Nadine Sierra) in happier days. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Outstanding performance (female lead): Stephanie Blythe as Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd. A great combination of singing and acting.

Stephanie Blythe as Mrs. Lovett in Sweeney Todd. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Outstanding performance (pinch hitter): Corey Bix as Enée in Les Troyens. Replacing eagerly anticipated Bryan Hymel at the last minute, Bix held his own amongst a remarkable group of women.

MVP of the season: Brian Mulligan. He was everywhere: Chorèbe in Les Troyens, Sweeney Todd in Sweeney Todd, Enrico in Lucia di Lammermoor, and Roderick Usher in the Usher House/La Chute de la maison Usher double bill.

Brian Mulligan as Sweeney Todd in Sweeney Todd. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Adler Fellow of the year: Chong Wang as Helenus in Les Troyens. His performance of the wistful “Vallon sonore” while hanging above the stage in a net was the standout aria of the season.

Best choreography: Lynne Page for Les Troyens. While some might not have appreciated so much dance in what is already a long opera, I really enjoyed it, particularly the “Pantomime: Chasse royale et orage” interlude.

Best choreography (honorable mention): Joe Jeffries for Usher House. The dance of Madeline Usher (Jamielyn Duggan) was one of the few things I liked about this opera.

Jamielyn Duggan (Madeline Usher) and Anthony Reed (Doctor Primus) in Usher House. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Favorite program cover: The Fall of the House of Usher. A cover image reminiscent of Psycho—but, as the saying goes, you can’t judge an opera by its program cover.

The Psycho Award for Most Blood (tie): Sweeney Todd, Lucia di Lammermoor, and The Fall of the House of Usher. Blood was everywhere this season, with each production seemingly trying to outdo the other. However, while I appreciate the creativity of the murder scene in Lucia, it was all a bit much.

The Gigli Award for Worst Chemistry: Luisa Miller. Leah Crocetto as Luisa and Michael Fabiano as Rodolfo both sang beautifully but unfortunately had zero chemistry and ultimately weren’t very convincing as the doomed lovers.

The Donald Award for Playing “Fast and Loose” with the Truth: La Ciociara (Two Women). If I had finished this novel by the time I saw the opera, I probably would have been even more disappointed with its alterations to the basic plot. Read the book, skip the opera.

The Warren Buffet Award for Most Frugal: Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. While the arched rosette made a lovely ceiling for the initial church scene and later singing competition, why on earth was it used for the courtyard? Make an effort, people.

The oddly inappropriate courtyard roof in Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Finally, as always, a big shout-out to La Maratonista for being such a great opera companion. Let’s hope the upcoming summer productions of Carmen, Jenufa, and Don Carlo are a little more exciting than this past fall.

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

Opera 101—Poison Pen Letter

Tags

Fashion, Opera, Verdi

Enjoy yourself while you can, Luisa. Photo by Cory Weaver.

As La Maratonista and I sat at the final performance of San Francisco Opera‘s Sweeney Todd on Tuesday, I realized I still had not posted about opening night. And I had such good blogging intentions for the fall. Ah, well… the road to hell and all that goes with it I suppose.

I guess it’s hard to get inspired by Luisa Miller. The opera is far from being one of Giuseppi Verdi’s best. The plot is a bit of a yawn and the music is only so-so. What’s more, the production design on this one was rather lackluster. Really, it just didn’t say “opening night” at all. It’s a good thing the singing was incredible and there were lots of pretty dresses to look at.

Giuseppi Verdi, Luisa Miller (1849)
Based on: a play by Friedrich von Schiller
Setting: a seventeenth-century Tyrolean village
Sung in: Italian

Plot in 101 words or less: Go, Luisa, it’s your birthday! And… scene. What was the point of that? Anyway, Luisa loves Carlo, but he’s really Rodolfo, son of Count Walter. The reason for this lie is never explained. Wurm wants Luisa for himself so he schemes with Walter to keep the lovers apart. Easy-peasy, since Rodolfo is engaged to Federica and she’s having none of it. So the stupidest scheme in the history of stupid schemes is just crazy enough to work and the resulting miscommunication leads Rodolfo to poison both Luisa and himself. Idiot. But at least he takes down Wurm with his final breath.

In short, nothing to write home about. Even if you are forced to write something in order to free your imprisoned father. The singing, however, was glorious. Leah Crocetto, a former Adler Fellow, who so impressed us as Liù in Turandot, held her own against a strong Michael Fabiano, who I’ve now seen numerous times (most notably in Lucrezia Borgia in San Francisco and Lucia di Lammermoor in Paris) and has never sounded better. Sadly the two didn’t have much chemistry together and weren’t really convincing as a couple. But neither the opera nor the production gives them much to work with.

Leah Crocetto as Luisa in Luisa Miller. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Michael Fabiano as Rodolfo in Luisa Miller. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Highlights from the rest of the stellar cast include Vitaliy Bilyy as Luisa’s father, Ekaterina Semenchuk as Federica, and Andrea Silvestrelli as Wurm. The latter looks to be gearing up for MVP of the season, as he will be coming back for both Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg and Don Carlo. The chorus didn’t seem to have much to do beyond adding window dressing in some glorious red velvet riding coats, but there was a kick-ass clarinet solo from the orchestra pit.

The ensemble didn’t get horses to ride but they did get gorgeous riding coats. Photo by Cory Weaver.

But enough of opera, I hear you saying, what about the dresses?!? Here are some of my favorites of the night:

Afsaneh Akhtari in Pavoni (left) and Belinda Berry (right) in a necktie dress of her own design. Photos by Laura Morton.

Komal Shah (left) and Lillian Jacks (right) in Oscar de la Renta. Photos by Laura Morton.

My own photo of Dixie Lee Mahy as she poses during intermission and La Maratonista putting everyone to shame in the Tenderloin post-opera.

All in all, a lovely night at the opera.

Opera Plots in 101 Words or Less, Act II

Tags

Bel Canto, Mozart, Opera, Puccini, Verdi

Today, we continue with the plots of opera “warhorses”—those repertoire standards most likely to be referenced in pop culture. Again, despite any snark below, I love all of these works and heartily recommended them to anyone considering exploring the world of opera. The operas below represent the second half of the top ten most-performed operas in the world: Madama Butterfly, The Barber of Seville, The Marriage of Figaro, Rigoletto, and Don Giovanni. For the first half, please see the previous post in this series: Opera 101—Plots in 101 Words or Less.*

So, if you don’t want to be like the hapless border guard in Hopscotch above, read on and learn how to distinguish the “Figaro!” of The Barber of Seville from the Figaro of The Marriage of Figaro.

SPOILER ALERT: Lots of weddings. And, of course, death. Circle of life don’t you know.

Giacomo Puccini, Madama Butterfly (1904)
Based on: a short story by John Luther Long and a novel by Pierre Loti
Notable Cultural Reference: Fatal Attraction
Setting: Nagasaki, 1904

American naval officer Pinkerton rents a house for his Japanese child-bride, Cio-Cio San (aka Butterfly). Renting should’ve been a clue he wasn’t playing for keepsies—always get the deed, ladies. To make matters worse, her uncle turns the wedding guests against her for converting to Christianity. Pinkerton’s not good for much but manages to knock her up before skipping town. Fast forward three years: Butterfly waits patiently while maid Suzuki knows the score. But, wait, Pinkerton comes back! Unfortunately, he and his new American wife just want the kid. Butterfly celebrates by slicing her throat. Drama queen.
TL;DR: Miss Saigon

Sung in: Italian
Memorable Music: “Un bel dì vedremo” and “Coro a bocca chiusa” (aka the Humming Chorus)

Gioachino Rossini, Il barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville) (1816)
Based on: a play by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais
Notable Cultural Reference: Bugs Bunny: “The Rabbit of Seville”
Setting: Seville, 18th century

Pretty and rich Rosina is the ward of elderly Dr. Bartolo. Bartolo hopes to marry her once she’s of age, and schemes with music master Don Basilio to keep her secluded until then. Nevertheless, Count Almaviva has managed to woo her with some righteous balcony singing and enlists Figaro(!), Bartolo’s barber, to help him gain access to the house. Letter upon letter makes the rounds—sometimes even turning into laundry lists. Figaro(!) tries to distract Bartolo with a shave, but Bartolo is having none of it. He fails to stop the inevitable wedding, and seems mollified with promises of money, but…

Sung in: Italian
Memorable Music: “Largo al factotum della città” (aka “Figaro!”)

Lucas Meachem is Figaro, the barber of Seville. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Le nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) (1786)
Based on: a play by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais
Notable Cultural Reference: The Shawshank Redemption, Trading Places
Setting: Seville, 18th century

The Marriage of Figaro is (surprise!) about the marriage of Figaro, former Sevillano barber, now valet to Count Almaviva. Although not really because it’s mostly about how the once-smitten count is now a cheating cheater who cheats. The countess (young Rosina all growed up) and her maid Susanna (Figaro’s fiancée) plot to catch him in action. Hijinks ensue, especially when old Dr. Bartolo arrives seeking payback from Figaro for screwing up his plans to screw Rosina. His secret weapon is Marcellina, who turns out to be Figaro’s long-lost mother, so that sort of backfires on him. Or does it? Double wedding!

Sung in: Italian
Memorable Music: Overture, “Non più andrai”

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

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”

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

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: “Batti, batti, o bel Masetto”, “Madamina, il catalogo è questo”

Tune in next time for Germans, Germans, Germans. Also, a ring. And a dwarf. Or maybe it’s a hobbit. I don’t know, I get them confused.

For the next post in this series: Opera Plots in 101 Words or Less, Act III.

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