Showing posts with label Cecilia Bartoli. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cecilia Bartoli. Show all posts

Thursday, June 05, 2014

Salzubrger Zeitung 2014 - #1

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So we've settled in to the Hotel Wolf-Dietrich and already made a visit to the Cafe Bazaar for lunch, a trip to Schubert to stock up on shirts (for some unknown reason the neck size on my older dress shirts has shrunk!) and sample the wares at Enoteca Settemila very pleasant little wine bar on the much rejuvenated Bergstrasse.  After the rather filling fare at Bazaar we had decided that a lighter meal would be in order for the evening and owner Rafalel suggested a few local wines that would go with the Tuscan meats, cheeses and bruschetta that his partner (business and life) Nina had prepared.  Food, wine and conversation flowed and we solved not a few world problems before heading back for a good night's sleep.


Juan discovers that there is more to Salzburg than Mozart and Music - there's Sweets and Shopping!

The Festspeile begins in earnest today as did sightseeing (yes I know we've been here countless times but there is always something new to see) and some serious shopping.  On returning from lunch I received an e-mail from the good people at the Box Office advising that due to illness  Elina Garanča, Krassimira Stoyanova and Piotr Beczala had all cancelled their appearances for Sunday's Stabat Mater.  However Sonia Ganassi, Maria Agresta and Lawrence Brownlee had all agreed to step in.  That's not bad "step-ins" as step-ins go!


La Ceci to Joelle,Laurent and Willym:  All together now - I'm forever blowing bubbles!

Tonight its my favourite Rossini opera La Cenerentola with our Cecilia, Javier Camarena and Nicola Alaimo.  So its time to tidy up, put on that Tiroler pink tie that I don't have the nerve to wear anyplace else and head to the Haus für Mozart.

June 5 - 1956: Elvis Presley introduces his new single, "Hound Dog", on The Milton Berle Show, scandalizing the audience with his suggestive hip movements.

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Sunday, July 14, 2013

Salzburger Zeitung 2013 - Seventh Edition


Dateline:  July 14, 2013:

Not for the first time I've saved the best at the Whitsun Festival for last.

I will begin by saying I'm not a fan of Bellini - of the big three of bel canto he is my least favourite: #1 Rossini #2 Donizetti #3 Bellini.  Yes I know many of my friends with better music knowledge than I find my love of Rossini a case of arrested musical development but there it is.  More often than not Bellini bores me:  in La Sonnambula I find myself almost as comatose as its eponymous heroine (oh come on now she was sleepwalking when she wandered into a big butch bass-baritone's bedroom?) and I Puritani is only one of two operas I've walked out of in 61 years of opera going.  Sorry, poor old Elvira - what the hell sort of name is that for a Puritan girl? - going mad once is okay - twice no dice!  I Capuletti e Montecchi - okay that one I love, it's fast, it's furious and it's filled with great music.  Il Pirata, Beatrice di Tenda and La Stangeria - well let's admit it there's a reason they aren't revived all that often.

That leaves only the biggie:  Norma.   And I'm not all that crazy about it - give me Lucia di Lammamoor in her blood stained nightgown or Maria Stuarda in her soon to be blood stained nightgown but Norma running around cutting mistletoe and mooning over some Roman.   As we use to say in Rome:  boh!

And there in doth lie a slight problem.  In those 61 years of opera going there are two performances that rank in the top 10 I've seen - both of them of ....    Norma!

Back in 1974 at the Roman Theatre in Orange Montserrat Caballe fought a Mistral to sing what she - without exaggeration  I believe - claimed to be the greatest performance of her life.  The score that night was Monstie 1 - Mistral 0.

The triumphant curtain calls - Josephine Veasey, Montserrat Caballe and Jon Vickers acknowledge
the cheering, bravoing audience at that legendary 1974 Norma in Orange. When I watch the video
of that evening I like to think that I can actually hear my own bravos over the rest!
In the shadow of Augustus Caesar, as the orchestra struggled to read flapping scores clothes-pinned to their music stands,  Caballe, Jon Vickers and Josephine Veasey generated drama and excitement that has stayed in my mind's ear and eye for almost 50 years.  This was opera in the grand old style that was starting to disappear even back then - more about voice than staging.  Given those great voices how could it not have been?

Pollione - Jon Vickers (top left, bottom right)   Norma - Montserrat Caballe (top and bottom right)
 Adalgisa - Josephine Veasey (bottom left) * Orange 1974.
They were big glorious voices pouring out torrents of sound, fighting the elements and displaying the power of the human voice to convey emotion and drama.  It was thrilling!  And it was Grand Opera at its grandest!

Fast forward to this year's Whitsun Festival and a Norma that could not have been more different but in its own way was one of the most exciting evenings I've spent at the opera.

Friday May 17: LiebesOPFER
Haus für Mozart: 1900

Before the ink had dried on the Festival prospectus the opera blogs were awash with "opera-lovers" damning Cecilia Bartoli's announcement that she would be singing Norma at this year's Whitsun Festival.  The cries of sacrilege that she would even try to sing a role which belonged - do you hear me BELONGED - to the long gone Maria Callas arose from lips that where still suckling at their mother's breast when Callas retired from the stage.  Her voice is too small!  She doesn't have the technique!  Her voice is too small!  She's too mannered!  Her voice is too small!  She doesn't have the nobility! She's too small!  If the blogasphere was to be believed it was going to be a bigger disaster than ... than... well any other role that Bartoli had sung that they from the comfort of their mostly Manhattan bedsits had seen on YouTube.  This disdain for La Ceci seems to be in not only North American centred but particularly New Yorkcentric and emits from opera "lovers" who, I would hazard a guess, have never seen her live.

Now like them I have seen La Ceci on video and agree that she has mannerisms that in close up can be irritating and like every singer she has her quirks and ticks both physically and vocally.  My only experience with her on stage was in concert in Roma.  That evening she played the role of the "diva" - and we were her adoring subjects.  And frankly I had own doubts about how suitable she would be in a role I normally associate with grand divas of a different sort.

Cecilia Bartoli as Norma, the spirit of Anna Magnani was never far from the surface in her riveting portrayal.  Untraditional vocally and dramatically it was none-the-less a great interpretation.
But this was to be a Norma with a difference.  It was a new critical edition by Maurizio Biondi and Riccardo Minasi going back to the original Bellini manuscript in the Conservatorio Santa Cecilia in Rome.  The allocation of voices was to reflect more closely what is known about the singers that created the roles.  And the orchestration was more in tune with the forces available at the period rather than the larger orchestras that were to come into fashion shortly thereafter.  Two hundred years of changes and "improvements" were to be removed to come as close as possible to Bellini's intentions.  Musically it was the equivalent of the house cleaning that had previously largely been done with Rossini but is now being extended to other composers of the bel canto. 

Norma (Bartoli) is first approached by Pollione (John Osborn) as teachers are led away and the local school is closed by the occupying forces.  One of the few examples of dumb show I've every seen that actually worked.

A clean slate musically obviously would call for a clean slate dramatically; I will admit that I cringed when I saw the first production photos on the Salzburg website.  It was to be a modern production by the team of Moshe Leiser and Patrice Caurier, Bartoli's preferred directing team.  I had not imagined the flapping canvas oak trees of the ottocento and frankly the thought of Bartoli in pseudo-druid draperies and laurel leave crown was slightly risible.  But was I ready for updating to more recent times?  Was this going to be another one of those regie-theatre concepts with barbed wire sets and Nazis in great coats so beloved in Germanic countries? 


Leader of the local Resistance, Oroveso (Michele Pertusi) cautions his followers to wait for a signal from his daughter, Norma.

Yes there was a directors' concept and, thankfully, no there were no great coats or swastikas. Norma takes places in Roman occupied Gaul: Leiser and Caurier gave us an occupied country, perhaps France, in the 1940s.  The forces of the occupiers appeared briefly in a dumb show prologue in the schoolroom where Norma is the principal and she and Pollione meet for the first time.  After the school has been closed it is to become the meeting place for the Resistance Movement led by Oroveso (Michele Pertusi).  There was one brief reference to Nazi-style helmets but honestly it could have been any occupied country at any time in recent history - Laurent said he thought it almost had a Balkan look to it.  What is important is the dramatic thrust that it gave Romani's somewhat formula love-triangle.  Suddenly it became the very modern story of a woman who had slept with the enemy and secretly betrayed her people and one of her young country women who was about to (or in this version did) make the same mistake.   The bond between the two women became central to everything - Mira Norma wasn't about two sportive ladies showing their vocal chops but two desperate woman in a situation neither of them knew how to get out of.  It was music drama at its finest - in a bel canto opera!!!!!


Adalgisa (Rebeca Olvera) confesses to Norma that she has been seduced and fallen in love with one of the occupying army.  Norma knows only too well the emotion.

A great deal of that drama came from the change of voices from what has become traditional in Norma over the past two centuries.   Rebeca Olvera (Adalgisa) has a light soprano voice - I kept thinking Norina or Adina, both parts sung by Giulia Grisi the creator of Adalgisa - perfect for the young, inexperienced girl who is so easily seduced by the suave Roman soldier.  And seductive John Osborn (Pollione) was in tone and demeanor; though there was a certain sleazy cruelty to his seduction - you almost felt that if he didn't get his way he would take it!  But it was in the final duets with Bartoli that he gave his best vocally and dramatically - matching her and making the change of heart almost believable.

In the dramatic trio that ends the first act Norma realizes that the man that has seduced Adalgisa is the father of her children. 
As remarkable as Olvera and Osborn were the opera is after all called Norma and as I said even I had reservations about Bartoli assuming the role.  I need not have worried - in this production, this edition and at this time she was Norma!  Were the vocal mannerisms there?  At times yes but only during a few of the rapid fire colouratura passages did they become apparent.   If the Casta Diva was not the show stopper - despite attempts to do so by some die-hard Bartolinis* - it was because in the context of the staging it was only part of a larger dramatic arc.  This was not a great diva spinning out lovely sounds - though the lovely sounds were there - this was a woman stalling for time to save her lover - the enemy.

Adalgisa and Norma dream of escaping the inescapable - they have betrayed their people, their vows to the Resistance.

 The programme featured several photos of Anna Magnani and Bartoli acknowledged that she used the great actress's performance in Roma, citta aperta as a starting point for her portrayal of Norma.  Nowhere was that more evident than in Dormono entrambi,  the scena that begins Act 2.  After the harrowing revelations of the Act 1 trio we discovered Norma, disheveled, drunk on bitterness and perhaps alcohol hunched against the wall of her apartment.  The threat to her children was very real - again desperation was never very far from the surface.  This made the subsequent scene with Adalgisa even more intense and as I said Mira Norma became a foolish attempt by two scared women bound by guilt to find a solution to their impossible situation.


Norma confronts the man who has betrayed and taunts him - she will reveal the name of his lover and he will watch as her countrymen take their revenge on her betryal.


From there the drama swept along, irrevocably until that electrifying moment when after taunting the bound Pollione, she blurts out, not to the crowd but directly into his face, Son Io - the confession that seals her death. The subsequent appeal to her father for her children had an aching tenderness - again with a slight edge of desperation.  As Laurent said afterwards, Michele Pertusi's Oroveso may have agreed but somehow you felt these children (one an infant) would not live long after their mother and that this Norma may have felt that in her heart.

Granted Baroli's dramatic and even vocal approach may have robbed the part of some of the "nobility" that has become associated with Norma but it was a complete exciting portrait from curtain raise until her final sacrifice.  She wasn't trying to match any of the ghosts of the past - nor did she need to - this was Bartoli's Norma.

But as much drama as there was on stage it was equally match by the drama in the pit.  Conducting Orchestra La Scintilla, the fine period ensemble of the Zurich Opera, Giovanni Antonini seldom let the temperature or pace drop.  I understand there has been some criticism of his conducting on the album that Decca released to coincide with the Salzuburg premiere.  I purposely avoided listening to it until long after the performance and find the accusation that he pushes things unfounded either in the theatre or on disc.  There were grace moments - the introduction to Act 2,  Norma's plea to her father - but he obviously saw the score as not simply a succession of arias, duets and trios but an overall dramatic sweep of music that took us along to its tragic and fiery end

Bound together Norma and Pollione face death in one of the most incredibly dramatic endings I've ever seen to any theatrical production in my life.
And what an end!  Norma, her hair shorn, and Pollione were bound to chairs on a pyre of furniture, books and anything in the room that would burn.  The school room where they had met was doused in gasoline and set on fire by the betrayed Resistance.  Windows shattered and flames lept through the floor and it was as if the entire stage of the Haus für Mozart was aflame.  It was dramatic stage craft at its best - a true wedding of the music to the drama.

I've seen  Norma as Grand Opera and I've seen Norma as Music Theatre and both experiences have  moved me to tears and had me on my feet cheering.   

*I've yet to come across a term for the die-hard Bartoli fans so figure this will do as well as anything.

PS:  Though Leiser and Caurier filled the production with grand moments there were some subtle pieces of staging that were impressive and suggest the work that they put into their concepts.  In the first act Pollione and his aide Flavio stole into the school room after the Resistance members had left; as his aide searched the room, Pollione took a book from a shelf, leaved through it distastefully and methodically tore out a few pages and let them fall to the floor.  Later Oroveso saw them, picked them up and gave a troubled look around the room - they were being watched!  Anyone who has ever been under surveillance will tell you that it is not uncommon for a "calling card" to be left - just to let you know that you are being observed.  An almost unnoticeable piece of business but one that added to the tension that was carefully being built up. 

All production photos are courtesy the Salzburg Festival 
© Hans Jörg Michel
E-Mail: h.j.michel@web.de 

July 14 -1902: The Campanile in St. Mark's Square, Venice collapses, also demolishing the loggetta.

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Sunday, June 23, 2013

Salzburger Zeitung 2013 - Sixth Edition


Dateline:  June 23, 2013:

A week or so of intense work and several evening engagements have meant that things are being left undone, half-done or done but not posted.  This is a long overdue look at the last two concerts of this year's Whitsun Festival.  I am saving my thoughts on the Norma that served as the centrepiece for this year's programme - perhaps along the lines of saving the best for last.  But it will come - honestly.


Monday May 20: Final Day of the Festival - Part II

Religiöses Opfer
Stiftskirche St. Peter: 1500

In writing of his Seven Last Words from the Cross Haydn said "it was no easy task to compose seven adagios lasting ten minutes each, one after the other, without tiring the listener."  And despite the undoubted beauty of the music and the always remarkable artistry of the Hagen Quartet I have to agree.   It really does go on a bit - to the point that the Earthquake movement that ends it seems positively exciting - though mind you I've always thought Haydn was good at that sort of programme music, his Chaos in The Creation is miraculous.    Several things seemed to be working against the performance:  the baroque splendor of St Peter's with its newly plated silver altar-ware was hardly the venue for the austerity of this Good Friday meditation; a sudden and violent storm meant that the quiet beauty of the revelation of paradise in the Second Sonata (Hodie mecum eris in paradiso) was drowned out by the beating of hail on the copper roof; and the presence, behind the communion rail and the Quartet, of Alfred Brendel at a desk with a goose-neck library lamp.

The Hagen Quartet (Lukas Hagen, Rainer Schmidt, Veronika Hagen, Clemens Hagen) pause
between movements of Haydn's Seven Last Words as Alfred Brendal reads from the
programme notes. A rather strange Religious Sacrifice!
One of the great pianists of the last century, since his retirement from the concert halls Brendel has forged a career as a reader in the German speaking world.  When it was announced that he would be doing the readings between the movements I had assumed he would be reading devotional or meditative texts.  Though my German is minimal I was looking forward to something along the lines of the services of words and music I have heard in other German/Austrian churches.  Instead he regaled us with the programme notes recited in rather flat, unmusical tones.  Of the five readings two spoke to the death of Christ - a passage from Jean Paul's Speech of the Dead Christ from the Universe that there is no God from Siebenkäs; and the Seven Words of Man from José Saramago's The Gospel According to Jesus Christ.   Rather odd choices to accompany Haydn's devotional work but certainly more interesting than a recitation of "then he sat down and wrote".

Il terremoto (the earthquake) - the final movement of the string quartet version of 
Haydn's The Seven Last Words  From the Cross as played by Assai String Quartet.

The programme made for a rather strange 90 minutes and I'm not at all sure that the quick exit of the audience at the end was only because there was another concert following shortly. 

Versöhnungs Opfer
Grosses Festspielhaus: 1800

By Monday late afternoon it was possible to believe that the subject of Opfer - Sacrifice had been well and truly explored musically.   However there was one concert left to this year's Whitsun Festival and it was devoted to "Versöhnen".  It means reconciliation and I have to admit that initially the significance of that term as it applied to Brahms's Ein deutsches Requiem, nach Worten der heiligen Schrift (A German Requiem to texts from the Holy Scriptures) escaped me.   A closer reading of the text made it clear:  Brahm's eschewed the words of the Roman Requiem and chose texts from both the Old and New Testaments as found in the German Luther Bible.  The work begins and ends with the word "selig" - "blessed" and points to the living rather than the dead and eventually to the comfort that will be found for those that mourn.  A humanist approach to death, grieving and "reconciliation".

There was another type of reconciliation very much in evidence on the stage of the Grosses Festspeilhaus.  As well as an impressive line up of vocal talent - Cecilia Bartoli, René Pape, the Wiener Singverein - Daniel Barenboim was on the podium leading his West-Eastern Divan Orchestra. For anyone who does not know the story behind this group of young musicians from the Middle-East (Iran, Israel, Palestine, Syria, Iraq) I suggest you read a bit about them here.  A true attempt at "reconciliation through music" founded by Barenboim and Edward Said.

Cecilia Bartoli, René Pape, the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra and the Wiener Singverein take
their bows after the performance of Brahm's Ein deutsches Requiem.  Hidden in the orchestra
is conductor Daniel Barenboim being assisted in fixing a "wardrobe malfunction".

It was an evening with great emotional impact on several levels.  Barenboim, not one of my favourite conductors, managed to stave off the heaviness that can sometimes make this piece ponderous and despite an unfortunate, but humourous, incident create moments of great beauty and finally serenity.  Though both Bartoli and Pape were on top form - I do wonder if her voice carried to the far reaches of the hall - it was the massed voices of the Singverein that carried the performance to heights.  This is music that is in the choir's foundations - the Singverein premiered the work in its shorter form in 1867.  A large group - it almost look as if all 230 members were on stage - they have a huge sound when needed that at times narrowed to an almost transparent thread.  It was choral singing at its finest.

I'm not sure where of the forces in this particular performance - other than conductor Claudio Abbado
  there is no identification of either the orchestra or choir.  It is taking place in the Musikverein Wien
 the home of the Wiener Sangverein but I am not taking their presence as a given.

The orchestra experienced a few rough patches - they are after all young musicians who work as an ensemble for a short period of time - but again the emotional impact was a strong one.  Was it preconceived because of the nature of the group, perhaps but none the less the emotions were honest ones, truly felt.  As was the ovation at the end!



As for the unfortunate incident - I can say I was there the night that Daniel Barenboim lost his pants!  I honestly don't think many people in the audience realized it but from our seats we had a clear view of the podium and what was happening.  About half way through the performance we became aware of something unusual going on.  It appears that Barenboim's suspenders gave way and his pants began to fall.  There was some furtive clutching with the left hand while conducting with the right; a pause; a few bemused exchanges of glances with Bartoli; then he backed against the podium railing and continued on.  Unfortunately he is not a conductor known for his economy of movement so there were several points where he lunged forward and things began to fall.  It is a credit to both his professionalism and musicianship that despite what was happening he and his forces delivered a beautiful and moving performance.  A closing concert to remember on several levels.

All production photos are courtesy of the Salzburg Festival and © Hans Jörg Michel (E-Mail: h.j.michel@web.de)

23 June -  1943:  James Levine, American conductor and pianist is born
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Friday, May 17, 2013

Salzburg Zeitung - 2013 - First Edition

The Salzburg Pfingstfestspeile has undergone quite a few changes since its first inception in 1973 as a celebration of the Baroque.  Initially it concentrated on orchestral works of the period with the odd excursion into the operatic or choral.  It was often regarded as the poor step-sister of the bigger (and better known and financed) Summer Festival until 2007 when Riccardo Muti took over as artistic director.

Under Muti the Festival, in theory, became a celebration of things Neapolitan, though even then the relationship between the stated mandate of the Festival and what was programmed was often tenuous at best.  There were several constants - the Festival began with an operatic rarity from the 17-18th century conducted by Muti and ended with a choral work - cantata, mass, oratorio - from the same period again with Muti at the podium.  His Luigi Cherubini Youth Orchestra were always in the pit and the singers were often younger singers making first appearances on the world stage.  The concerts scheduled between the two "main" works were varied in content but always high in quality.  However by year four I had found the programming had become a bit tired and there was the odd concert in 2010 that lacked real interest.  We skipped the last year (2011) of his directorship, though we did see the opera from that year's Festival - Mercadante's Il Due Figaro -  in a later performance at Ravenna.  

We also missed the first year (2012) of Cecilia Bartoli's directorship.  Her's was a controversial appointment - La Ceci has always had her detractors, but then what diva hasn't?  Rather than a predominately baroque theme last year she chose to build the programming around Cleopatra.  This allowed her to display both her interpretation of Handel's heroine in Guilio Cesare with an all star cast but also offer a varied programme of arias inspired by the historical siren.  For the remainder of the Festival she was able "to call in her markers" as an regular Festival goer remarked to me today and get some of the bigger names to present orchestral, vocal and choral programmes.  According to Festival publicity 2012 was a banner year for attendance and profits.

The programme for this year was announced - as it has traditionally been -  on the final day of last year's festival and we mulled over the idea of coming for 2013.  We mulled it over for two days then ordered our subscriptions with that air of optimism you always do when planning things a year ahead at my age.  


The theme for the 2013 Festival was announced as being one concerned with Opfer - a German word that can mean Sacrifice, Offering or Victim.  I must admit I was a bit leery as this was also the title of Bartoli's album that was being released shortly thereafter.  There had been rumours that the Decca machine was pretty much manipulating things at the Festival as a sort of classical product placement.  But a quick scan of the on-line brochure assured me that it was a varied and in many ways exciting series of performances.

So here's our line up for this weekend:

May 17:
LiebesOpfer (Love's Sacrifice):  
Bellini's Norma in a new critical edition by Maurizio Biondi and Riccardo Minasi based on an original manuscript - with Bartoli as a mezzo Norma and frankly lighter voices than we are use to in this great "romantic" work.  It should be an interesting break with tradition.

May 18:
MusikalischesOpfer (Musical Offerings) - András Schiff playing Bach, Mozart and Beethoven - piano pieces linked to Bach's Musical Offering BWV 1079.

May 19:
BiblischesOpfer (Bibical Scarifcie) - Jommelli's Isacco Figura del Redentore.  A bit of a return to the baroque origins of the Whistun Festival with a setting from 1742 of the story of Abraham and Issac.  

FrühlingsOpfer (Spring Victim) - Three ballets by Stravinsky:  Les Noces, Le Sacre de Printemps and The Firebird.
It's the 100th anniversary of the scandal that was Sacre and the Ballet of the Kirov says it will be reconstructing the original choreography that cause such a riot in the Paris of 1913.  I'm still trying to figure out how Firebird fits into the sacrifice theme but any opportunity to it and the Kirov... 

May 20: A day crowed with events.
PolitischesOpfer (Political Sacrifice)
Where the Mariinsky Orchestra is Valery Gergiev can not be far behind - or in front in this case.  A fascinating programme of two works that had political repercussions for their composers: Sofia Gubaidulina's Offertorium and Dmitri Schostakowitsch's Symphony #13 - Babi Jar.

ReligiösesOpfer (Religious Sacrifice)
The marvelous with Hagen Quartet plays Haydn's Seven Last Words of Christ from the Cross - with Alfred Brendel (!!!!) doing the meditative readings.  

VersöhnungsOpfer (Reconciliation Offering)
Brahm's Ein deutsches Requiem bears no resemblance to the traditional mass for the dead but speaks to the reconciliation of the soul with its god.  This performance should be interesting on many levels:  it features Cecilia Bartoli, René Pape and Daniel Barenboim conducting his West-Eastern Divan Orchestra.  Made up of young musicians from all over the Middle-East, and I do mean all-over, it is reconciliation in the true meaning of the word.

I must admit that looking over the programme - particularly that busy Monday - that we would have to sacrifice a few things ourselves - like aperitivo and eis caffe on the terrace of Cafe Bazar or dinner in the Sketch Bar at the Hotel Bristol. But somehow I think we can fit it all in.

May 17 - 1866: French composer Erik Satie is born.





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Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Mercoledi Musicale

Cecilia Bartoli is one of those singers you either adore or hate - and dont' the haters in certain quarters just go at it.  I come down firmly on the adore side of things and have since her first albums back in 1988-89.  Does she have ticks, mannerisms and some vocal faults?  Of course she does, she a human not the automaton that one gathers all the great singers from the past have been if the blog bitc quee commenters are to be believed.  Does she choose some strange repertoire?  Yes but then one can recall a few Divas of the recent past whose choice of works were - at times - just as strange (Esclarmonde anyone?).  And I have a feeling that many of the detractors have based all their opinions on armchair listening to her DVDs and CDs, particularly in North America where she has not graced a stage for several years.  And though those visual and audio recordings do capture much of what makes her both special and controversial they can't capture the magic connection she has with her audience when seen live.  All the ticks, quirks and faults disappear when she does what a diva is suppose to do - comes out on stage and galvanizes the theatre with her personality and voice.

I 've seen her on stage once -  back in 2008 in Roma and then just in concert.  However that should be remedied this coming May when she appears as Norma at the Salzburg Pfingstefestspiele.  We have tickets for the first performance - and for all the other events for what promises to be a crowded weekend: Rene Pape, András Schiff, Alfred Brendel (speaking not playing), the Hagen Quartet, Daniel Barenboim, Valery Gergiev with his Mariinsky Orchestra and Ballet.  All that in four days - it almost looks like I'm trying to make up for lost time.

Beginning from the autograph of the
Duetto da camera Pria ch'io faccia
by Agostino Steffani.
But until that performance I will have to make due with La Ceci's most recently released CD.  Mission follows in the pattern of her last few discs - here she explores the relatively unknown music of Agostino Steffani.  The period between the Early Baroque operas of Monteverdi and Cavalli is largely under represented and if only to hear music that bridges the styles of these two giants of early music and the succeeding generations it is worth the download price.  As always La Ceci shows that she can throw off the vocal fireworks in the style of the Late Baroque that have made her famous but she also shows a simplicity and delicacy in the arias that harken back to the earlier composers - often with only continuo, a viola de gamba or even a single lute as the accompaniment.

This aria from Servio Tullio (1686) has a gentle melody and a light accompaniment with the instrumental line giving as much emotional impact as the vocal line.  Its not unlike what can be heard in L'OrfeoUlisse or L'Ormindo - and that lovely dying away at the end reminds me of the ascension of Calisto to the stars in Cavalli's opera.


Ogni core può sperar;
solo il mio dee lagrimar.
La fortuna, ch’è tiranna,
mi condanna
a mai sempre sospirar.
Every heart may hope;
mine alone must weep.
Tyrannical fortune
condemns me
to sigh for evermore.

Equally lovely in its simplicity is the melding of La Ceci's voice with that Golden Boy of the countertenor world Philippe Jaroussky. Their two voices compliment each other beautifully at several points sounding like one voice. He joins her in four duets, two from Niobe, Regina di Tebe(1688), the only Steffani opera revived in recent times. Typical of operas of the time the mythological story of the fecund (16 children????) and haughty Queen Niobe is interwoven with magic spells, misplaced adore and unrequited passion. This duet combines the first two as King Creon under a magic spell believes he is in love with Niobe, who mistakenly believe him to be a god. Like the passions invoked Steffani's music seems to be built on air.


Creonte (Philippe Jaroussky)
T’abbraccio, mia Diva,
ti lego al mio cor.
Mia vita è il tuo lume,
mia gioia è il tuo ardor.

Niobe (Cecilia Bartoli)
Ti stringo, mio Nume,
ti lego al mio cor.
Tua luce m’avviva,
mia gioia è il tuo ardor.
Creon
I embrace you, my goddess,
I bind you to my heart.
your eyes are my life,
your ardour brings me joy.

Niobe
I hold you close, my god,
I bind you to my heart.
Your light enlivens me,
your ardour brings me joy.

In an interesting tie-in Donna Leon, she of Inspector Brunetti fame, has just published her latest book, The Jewels of Paradise.  Her new book tells the fascinating story of Steffani's life as a musician, priest, diplomat and familiar of royals as seen through the eyes of Caterina Pellegrini, a young Venetian musicologist.  Caterina returns to her hometown to unlock the mystery of two trunks left by the composer and squirrelled away for three centuries in the vaults of the Propoganda Fide in Rome.  I will probably have something to say about it a bit later but did find it a good and, given its size, quick read.  It was interesting reading the copious notes in the elaborate Decca booklet and then Leon's three hundred year old mystery story.   One very big caveat where the booklet is concerned - though it goes into great detail about the court intrigues in Hanover and other places where Steffani served it is very thin about the music itself.  As fascinating as the story of poor Princess Sophia Dorothea and Count Königsmarck may be it would have been better to let Leon tell us the story and use the pages of the CD booklet to tell us about Steffani's instrumentation, the context of the arias and even a bit about the operas themselves.

In the meantime I'll echo Creon - t'abbraccio, mia Diva  or at least I embrace you latest album until I get to see hear your Casta Diva in May.

October 10 - 1971: Sold, dismantled and moved to the United States, London Bridge reopens in Lake Havasu City, Arizona.
 


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Saturday, October 11, 2008

La Ceci - La Diva

Trying my best not to do an impersonation of poor little Mimi or one of those other fragile operatic heroines I sucked back a tin of eucalyptus cough drops and headed out to the Parco del Musica a few Thursdays ago. There was no way I was going to miss this concert - Cecilia Bartoli had brought her Maria Malibran show home to Roma and if all the opera queens where going to be there so was I - come death or destruction.

Now there are some blogs where La Ceci is shredded into little pieces by the cognoscenti- she's breathy, the voice is too small, she makes strange faces and contortions when she sings, her repertoire is too limited and the sniping and bitching goes on and on. Like many of these posters, whose greatest complaint seems to be that she's successful without having to appear on some of the world's larger stages, I had only heard her on CD or seen her on DVD so I really wasn't sure what to believe. Yes there are times on record when she sounds like she's climbing Mount Everest and yes there are some strange facial tics when she throws off the coloratura runs she is famous for. But to all those commentators all I can say is: desert your Ipods and flat-screens ladies - go and see her in person 'cause the only way to judge La Ceci is on stage.

Applause - La Ceci
Resplendent in royal blue and sporting a diamond necklace, Cecilia shows us how a Diva accepts her due. She knows we love her and damn she just loves us back.

My dear friend and She Who We All Love to Obey Opera Chic saw the same programme in Milan a few nights before and wrote about it in her normal witty and wise manner so I won't even try to compete. I agree with much of what she says - once past the Romantic stuff, which frankly isn't to my taste either, we heard some of the most incredibly virtuosic singing that can be heard today. And she is definitely a stage animal - her connection with those around her and her audience was electrifying. As OC says we may not know what Malibran sounded like but I won't let any of the opera bitches tell me La Ceci isn't in the same league!More Applause - La Ceci
And a Diva who wants to give her public a treat changes gowns for the second part of the programme. The necklace may be gone but the voice sparkles brighter than the diamonds anyway.

OC mentions La Ceci's interaction with the instruments and no where was that more apparent than in the Willow Song and Prayer from Rossini's Otello. Much of Asisa appiè d'un salice is a duet for singer and harp and here the two shimmering sounds intertwined until at one point they were indistinguishable but what I found most striking was the incredible half-voice she used for the repeat. It was a distracted whisper but a whisper that reached the back wall of the auditorium. Dramatically it was intense and as telling as all the glittering flights of coloratura in later arias. That to me was one of the most breathtaking and heart-stopping moments of the concert.

The other Rossini numbers showed of her lightening coloratura with the Cenerentola rondo - one of her signature roles - getting two outings; the second as an encore with new variations. And a little encore item written by Malibran's father the great Manuel Garcia was utterly delightful - it was fortunate that a small flamenco ensemble just happened to be waiting in the wings just in case we called for more. Laurent wondered out loud what would have happened if we hadn't demanded an encore - as if that was going to happen!



11 ottobre - San Alessandro Sauli