Cape Town Opera’s “Porgy and Bess” created an extraordinary cultural confluence in its Chinese premiere at the Poly Theatre. Closing the 27th Beijing Music Festival on 12 October 2024, this production brings together 39 singers and 75 musicians as Gershwin’s South Carolina masterpiece, reimagined through South African artistry, finds new resonance on the Beijing stage.

It arrives at a moment when cultural dialogue between China and Africa is more vital than ever. Festival director Zou Shuang envisions this centerpiece performance as more than just an artistic showcase- it becomes a living bridge where Chinese audiences discover the rhythms and spiritual depths of South African artistry while honoring the work’s timeless power. Director Noa Naamat’s staging softens the opera’s raw portrayal of race, drugs and social struggles, opting instead for a visual poetry of minimalist sets and vibrant costumes. Dynamic lighting shapes this gentler vision, crafting intimate moments that let the performance’s emotional depth shine through.

Under Kazem Abdullah’s direction, the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra doesn’t merely accompany but actively shapes the drama. Their reading of Gershwin’s score reveals both its classical refinement and vernacular vitality. The orchestra paints a sonic landscape that feels at once authentic and revelatory: from the opening notes, their nuanced interplay brings the world of port loaders, fishermen, street vendors, and beggars to vivid life. The strings excel in atmospheric passages and maintain clarity through rhythmically complex passages, with especially moving performance in the spirituals. Though occasional clarity issues emerge in softer passages, woodwinds demonstrate exceptional agility during “Clara, Clara.” The brass section’s jazz inflections prove especially effective in the hurricane’s approaching fury and Crown’s menacing scenes.

Illuminating Vocal Performances

The vocal performances illuminate both individual journeys and communal bonds. Otto Maidi’s Porgy moves fluidly between heroic strength and touching vulnerability, his resonant bass-baritone wielding consonants like weapons in moments of determination while revealing delicate sensitivity in passages of tenderness. “I Got Plenty o’ Nuttin’” becomes both a personal declaration and a universal statement of resilience.

Nonhlanhla Yende brings vocal ambition to Bess, particularly in “Porgy I’s Your Woman Now,” where her powerful high notes declare both strength and yearning for freedom. Yet, in tracing her path between independence and dependence, her dramatic transitions often lack definition, leaving pivotal moments without their full emotional impact.

From this central relationship, the drama expands through a rich supporting cast. Siphamandla Moyake’s Clara opens with a hauntingly layered “Summertime.” Her voice floats beautifully between bluesy inflections and operatic lines, capturing both struggle and hope of Catfish Row.

Pumza Mxinwa’s Serena delivers a heart-wrenching “My Man’s Gone Now.” Her grief touches something universal in all of us. The night’s biggest surprise comes from Mandisinde Mbuyazwe’s Crown and Siphamandla Moyake’s Sporting Life.

Mandisinde’s Crown radiates dangerous charisma with his rough-edged sound, and his command of descending bass lines is particularly impressive. As Sporting Life, Siphamandla brings perfect wit to “It Ain’t Necessarily So,” his jazz-infused phrasing making every note both question and entertain. He skillfully undercuts the community’s religious certainties while keeping Gershwin’s delicious sense of humor intact. Together, these characterizations vividly reveal the ever-present temptations and dangers facing the community.

Embodying the bittersweet rhythms of life in Catfish Row, the chorus becomes the beating heart of this production. Their voices navigate complex passages with precision while never losing their essential humanity. Whether in the Six Simultaneous Prayers during the hurricane scene or celebrating the tender union of Bess and Porgy, the ensemble transcends mere technical excellence to achieve genuine authenticity, infusing each phrase with a spirit that is uniquely their own—powerful enough to make the world grow small.

Inspiring & Community-Building Production

Each production of “Porgy and Bess” carries its own distinct aesthetic and cultural identity. In an era where cultural discourse often seems trapped between extremes, this Chinese premiere reveals something profound about music’s community-building power. The singing here creates a Catfish Row that transcends its specific setting, where spirituals and blues, gospel fervor and operatic refinement coalesce into something universal.

What emerges is a performance both precisely crafted and deeply spontaneous, where formal excellence meets raw emotional truths. Through the alchemy of these voices, whether raised in spiritual ecstasy or touched with blues tinged sorrow, the stage transforms into a living community. Here, black operatic voices soar with jazz-like freedom, creating a neighborhood that exists simultaneously in South Carolina, Johannesburg, and Beijing, yet speaks to us all.

The post Cape Town Opera 2024 Review: Porgy and Bess appeared first on OperaWire.

The Wiener Staatsoper has announced a cast change for its Nov. 18, 2024 performance of “Don Pasquale.”

The company said that Levy Sekgapane will sing the role of Ernesto in “Don Pasquale” replacing Edgardo Rocha.

It will be the second performance Sekgapane takes over for Rocha following the performance on Nov. 16, 2024.

Sekgapane is well known for his Bel Canto roles and has performed at the Paris Opera, Wiener Staatsoper, Staatsoper Hamburg, Opéra National de Bordeaux, and Semperoper Dresden, among others.

The tenor joins a cast that includes Erwin Schrott, Davide Luciano, and Pretty Yende. Giacomo Sagripanti conducts the production by Irina Brook.

The post Wiener Staatsoper Announces Cast Change for ‘Don Pasquale’ appeared first on OperaWire.

Born in 1929, Stern was an influential singer and teacher. She went on to sing such roles as the title role of “Carmen,” Rosina in “The Barber of Seville,” and Suzuki in “Madama Butterfly,” among others. She also performed with the Durban Symphony Orchestra and Cape Town Opera as well as in the city of Vienna.

Stern went on to write a Memoir entitled “The Inner Voice of Sound,” which recounts her life as an opera singer.

She became a teacher at the UCT Opera School where she taught many students such as Violina Anguelov. In an interview, Anguelov described Stern as her “hero and role model” as well as her “greatest supporter.”

The post Obituary: Mezzo-Soprano Sarita Stern Dies at 92 appeared first on OperaWire.

The mezzo-soprano has been coordinator and facilitator for the company’s Youth Development and Education Department for three years. She joined the Cape Town Opera Studio in 2010 and has performed at Hamer Hall in Melbourne and in the Teatro Colón’s “Porgy and Bess.”

With Cape Town Opera, Yende has appeared in “Messiah,” “Der Fliegende Holländer” as Mary, “Rigoletto” as Maddalena, and “Carmen” as Mercédès.

She is set for performances of “Shakespeare in the Park” at Maynardville in February, followed by the “SHORTS” Festival at Wave Theatre in March. She will also perform as Amneris in Cape Town Opera’s production of “Aida” in May.

The post Nonhlanhla Yende Named House Soloist at Cape Town Opera appeared first on OperaWire.

Conroy Scott leads the cast in the title role. Cape Town Opera Brittany Smith, Jody Abrahams, Dean Balie, Alexis Petersen, Elton Landrew, Eldon van der Merwe, and Natalie Robbie are also among the cast. The story revolves around the African-American choir known as The Virginia Jubilee Concert Company led by Orpheus McAdoo, which visited South Africa in the 1890s and launched an ensemble that would become an overnight sensation.

Kramer said in an official press release, “I’m looking forward to working with the combination of opera singers and musical performers to partly conjure up this era. It is my hope that audiences will experience what the Virginia Jubilee Singers might have sounded like in concert in those days. This choir made a tremendous impact and the story of Orpheus and his wife Mattie and their struggle with minstrelsy in the 1890s provides for an entertaining and eye-opening evening at the theatre,” he added.

The creative team includes Fiona du Plooy as Assistant Director and Movement Director, Dawid Bovarhoff as Arranger, and Kevin Kraak as Musical Director. Costumes are by Maritha Visagie, set and visuals are by Julian David, lighting is by Faheem Bardien, and Sound Design is by The Grateful Deaf.

The premiere of “Orpheus McAdoo” will take place at Artscape which runs from Oct. 18 to Nov. 4.

The post Cape Town Opera to Present David Kramer’s ‘Orpheus McAdoo’ appeared first on OperaWire.

Cape Town Opera is set to present “Horizons” on Sept. 28, 2024 at Toyota Stellenbosh Woordfees.

The program, which will spotlight South African music by Michael Moerane, Péter Louis van Dijk, Mzilikazi Khumalo, Clare Loveday, Mpumelelo Manyathi and Pieter Bezuidenhout, will be headlined by the Cape Town Opera Chorus, conducted by José Dias.

“This music is a roadmap of South Africa’s collective journey, charting the milestones of its shared identity. In every note, one can hear the echoes of history, the pulse of contemporary life, and the whispers of what is yet to come,” said Bezuidenhout per an official press release.  “Choral music here is not merely an art form; it is the heartbeat of a people, a living testament to the intricate tapestry of social, cultural, and political threads that weave through the nation’s soul. It is a powerful medium of expression that carries past stories, speaks to the present, and beckons us toward the future.”

The performance kicks off at 5 p.m. local time.

The post Cape Town Opera to Spotlight South African Choral Traditions in ‘Horizons’ appeared first on OperaWire.

The soprano was one of South Africa’s most distinguished operatic sopranos whose career spanned several decades.

Born in 1933 in Stellenbosch, Oosthuizen studied singing under Margaret Wandelt at the Stellenbosch Conservatoire and furthered her vocal studies with Maria Hittorff in Vienna. She made her European debut in 1963 and went on to sing at many of the greatest stages in the world.

The soprano also performed Lieder to great acclaim. Oosthuizen’s passion for Lieder was reflected in her popular radio series, “The Song,” on FMR, where she collaborated with Dave Kruger.

From 1973 to 1978, she lectured at the South African College of Music.

The post Obituary: Soprano Virginia Oosthuizen Dies at 90 appeared first on OperaWire.

Central City Opera (CCO) resurges in 2023-24, the institution entering the Colorado Music Hall of Fame, installing Alison Moritz as Artistic Director and bouncing back from a turbulent 2023 marked by labor strife, now buoyed by the new leadership of CEO Scott Finlay. With a reinforced endowment, CCO’s ambitious 2024 summer festival season programmed Gilbert and Sullivan’s “The Pirates of Penzance,” and Kurt Weill’s “Street Scene,” a work with an enormous cast. Nearly as large a human resources lift, Puccini’s “La Fanciulla del West” requires eighteen credited singers, all male but the titular heroine and her house lady Wowkle. The fifth oldest extant American opera company, Central City manages to draw internationally-known singers, easily filling with audience its opera house, an intimate architectural treasure built in 1878.

Other than Douglas Moore’s “The Ballad of Baby Doe,” set in Colorado, and premiered here in 1956, no more appropriate an opera for CCO to produce than “Fanciulla” occupies the standard repertory. Central City, Colorado, though petite, presents as Puccini’s mining camp, grown up. Approaching the opera house from a municipal parking lot, walking three blocks, entering the auditorium, and greeting Act one’s set, the Polka saloon, feels like a far shorter trip than, say, encountering Giancarlo Del Monaco’s massive production, accessed via midcentury’s fountained plaza and red velvet womb at the Metropolitan Opera—just one more nineteenth century setting among many there. Bars equipped with digital gambling machines supply Central City’s main commercial activity; “Fanciulla” stars the only American woman who tends bar in a repertory opera, surrounded by tipplers who gamble their scant earnings from mining for gold. Any house willing to meet the daunting challenge of mounting “Fanciulla” qualifies as a great place to see it, but who can name a better venue for Puccini’s Italian Western than Central City?

Alla Polka si beve l’whisky schietto

“Fanciulla” unfolds with propulsive dramatic momentum far exceeding that of “Madama Butterfly” and rivaling “Tosca.” Unlike the slow-ish first act of “Manon Lescaut,” and maybe even some of the boys’ early horsing around in “La Bohème,” Puccini’s genius for rendering atmospheric slices of life has fully matured in “Fanciulla” and advances the drama unerringly. Few other operas make as many dramatic points reaching them as swiftly; Verdi’s “Rigoletto” might be the exemplar on that count. Every micro-scene, all of them smoothly through-composed, sets up something else later in the opera. For example, Sid’s exile from the gambling table for cheating at cards, as Rance effectively saves his life, prefigures and complicates Minnie’s dishonest but necessary triumph over Rance at Cantredraw in Act two, and, it also gives us an early example of the sort of de-escalation the heroine enacts in the denouement. And Rance, the baritone antagonist, though also a grabby officer of the law, presents the audience with dramatic nuance lost on Baron Scarpia in “Tosca” and he manages not to be a complete rat bastard, unlike the Roman chief of police. Too, instead of forming a dozen-headed ensemble, Puccini individuates the miners brilliantly despite allotting tiny amounts of time to each, often with snappy dialogue. Today’s opera producers have found ways to fix the libretto’s sole weakness, a brief but cringy portrayal of the Native couple, Billy Jackrabbit and Wowkle. That said, “Fanciulla” offers something truly remarkable for a 1910 opera about American characters from 1849: the protagonists are an interracial couple, portrayed positively.

Best of all, unlike every other canonical, noncomic Puccini opera, “Fanciulla” refrains from sacrificing the heroine on an artistic altar before us. It also marks a shift to even richer, denser orchestration than we find in Puccini’s earlier hits, and to adventurous tonality, without overeliance on pentatonic like we hear in “Turandot,”—that opera, despite its virtues, a dramatic cul-de-sac into which Puccini painted himself well prior to his final illness. While we associate complicated use of leitmotif in opera foremost with Wagner, Puccini frequently achieves as much or more with greater motivic economy, as with the redemption theme in “Fanciulla,” growing by degrees from Minnie’s Bible lesson. “Fanciulla” works as opera and it works as film music, only the film takes place in live stage action.

For many of the above reasons, similarly to Wagner’s “Parsifal,” and Verdi’s “Don Carlo,” “Fanciulla” has enjoyed a tendency to attract particularly sincere commitment from the companies attempting it. Though perhaps lucky, I haven’t seen a bad performance of this opera. In 2020, even an outfit as small as Winter Opera Saint Louis—that town’s third company, on a shoestring budget with an orchestra pit housing just 26 instrumentalists—gave a pretty good “Fanciulla” led by Karen Kanakis as Minnie. Though aspects of Central City’s performance this week (31 July 2024) could have been stronger, they rose to the occasion overall, giving a compelling reading of Puccini’s difficult score.

Che terra maledetta, quest’occidente d’oro

Fenlon Lamb’s production played “Fanciulla” straight as a flagpole. No problem there—this opera qualifies as its own staging concept, in a way, and loses little by way of a highly representational realization. Please do something new with “Carmen,” or “Il Barbiere di Siviglia,” but “Fanciulla” can take care of itself. Supertitles have become an integral part of staging, and Brett Finlay took a consistently figurative tack some distance from Italian. Despite CCO’s minuscule backstage space, Jefferson Ridenour’s sets furnished the staging with sufficient detail. Act one’s Polka Saloon implied a back room via a stage left doorway opposite the bar, vertically encircled by a stairwell purposed for platforming Minnie’s hypertheatrical entrance, breaking up the miners’ scuffle with a warning shot in the air. A sign reading “a real home for boys” topped the bar. Her Act two cabin, the usual table, fireplace, bed, and loft, included an item frequently omitted, the bearskin rug she sleeps on, complete with the bear’s head. Unlike the Met’s famous Act three set, which looks like half a town imported whole from Guadix, CCO’s production returned to the forest clearing specified in the libretto, about sixteen tree trunks centerstage with scarcely a gallows stage right, more of a tall wooden accordion fence topped by a wooden hook, slightly past the fourth wall.

Lighting design by Abigail Hoke-Brady, which may have included the uncredited projections, formed the most effective element of the staging. Act one’s love duet took place under a starry night sky inside the saloon. Many companies delay the winter storm until Wowkle references it in the text, but snowy projections backgrounded all of Act two. And simply but elegantly, the romantic dyad in Act one’s duet and Minnie and Rance’s poker game in Act two took well-calibrated spotlights that alluded to the performance of those moments. Sepia-toned photographs of people in the old West, some Native, followed the opening curtain during the short prelude. Best of all, the projections threw onto Minnie’s cabin walls her and Rance’s poker hands, as if we were watching televised pocket cards in Texas Hold’em on ESPN, less ostentatiously than that sounds in print.

Costumes by Susan Allred borrowed from Utah Opera outfitted Jonathan Burton’s Johnson in a double-breasted tan suit early and a bloodstained white shirt for Act three, a là Tosca’s tortured Cavaradossi. Grant Youngblood’s Sheriff Rance received the usual black three-piece suit. Kara Shay Thomson’s Minnie wore a simple burgundy blouse and dark green skirt, until her slumber party in Act two with Johnson, and then a crimson house robe. The miners looked like miners in a Western movie. Though unadventurous, this staging provided some interesting twists. An armed Sonora stood down and disarmed Sheriff Rance during the climactic concertato, sidelining him. Indeed, Rance faced more guns than he pointed. Minnie pulled her pistol on him during their first act duet warning him away. And Sonora refused to place the noose about Johnson’s neck, leaving him to do it himself, which Ashby later reversed during the forgiveness concerto.

Benvenuto fra noi, Johnson di Sacramento

Most impressive of the principals was tenor Jonathan Burton, as the reforming bandit, Dick Johnson/Ramerrez. Not often do we encounter a performance of an opera requiring a tenor of lirico-spinto or dramatic fach, and the tenor sings best. His recent outings cluster on the spinto side, including a slate of the usual suspects in more-performed Puccini operas, and he delivers a baritonal heft. He entered with a sunny swagger, unperturbed when Rance refused his handshake. After a slight vocal warm-up before us, he let Minnie come to him rather than pressing her in the first love duet—interesting, because Minnie’s unverbalized desire to escape the way her male compatriots have boxed her in frequently seems realized in projections of her desires onto Johnson. (“I can’t read my heart like you can”). You understood his appeal to Minnie in “Quello che tacete,” when Burton shot the A♭ in “una gioia strana” through the firmament of the projected stars in the saloon. They embraced before he proposed the date in her cabin—which she told him and the audience is “closer to God” than the saloon. At the cabin his request for “un bacio, un bacio almen” came with Wagnerian power—indeed, a bevy of secure high notes throughout the second act. Beginning “Or son sei mesi” with his back to her, ashamed, Burton really threw himself into “la mia vergogna,” without having to push vocally. The baritonal weight returned in Act three for “Ch’ella mi creda,” one of the few passages in “Fanciulla” that acts like an aria. With such sincerity speaking of Minnie, “per lei,” Burton gave the aria with a prayerful tone—it is in fact a prayer—to the other men. He built the dynamic contrast from piano with the first “mio solo fiore” and constructed a huge build to the high B♭. After initially participating in roughing him up, the other men less Rance had already boarded the forgiveness train, recoiling when the sheriff kept punching him. “Fanciulla” requires a solid tenor, and Burton met the challenge.

Che c’è di nuovo, Jack?

A CCO veteran of more than two decades, and deeply experienced in Puccini, baritone Grant Youngblood made for an interesting Jack Rance. “Fanciulla” shares some odd parallels with “Tosca,” and some of the same men who portray Scarpia, later get a chance to essay the menacing but less-dastardly western Sheriff. Youngblood instead played Rance as gentlemanly for most of the opera, somewhat wearied by it all, and even a little whiny at Minnie’s romantic rejection. He displayed no rage and little grabbiness towards her until the brink of Act two’s poker game, making this shift more impactful than when the baritone takes a handsier path to the soprano throughout. Puccini excelled at setting up dramatic situations where one character must listen to another. Youngblood’s Rance afforded Minnie some active listening as she outlined her philosophy of love in “Laggiu nel Soledad.” His own aria prior, “Minnie, dalla mia casa son partito” emerged with sorrow and a confessional air, rather than the scattershot masculine nonchalance you’ll sometimes see in this role. Stronger low than high vocally but with a refined sound, Youngblood gave the impression he was more lovestruck by Minnie than lustful for her, at least in Act one. This reinforced the dynamic not only between Rance and Minnie’s new boo Johnson, but between the latter and the whole mining camp, Sherriff included: in their eyes, Johnson’s capital offense isn’t stealing gold, but her.

Tre assi e un paio!

Youngblood and soprano Kara Shay Thomson as Minnie played the buildup to and execution of their climactic Act two showdown skillfully. I cannot name a greater scene in Puccini for dramatic punch, not even the Riddle Scene in “Turandot,” and the poker game affords its participants all sorts of options. After Johnson’s syncope but before the cards were dealt, Youngblood conjured a Sherrill Milnes-ish bluster, finally grabbed her, and then stood down when she again produced her pistol from her bra, retorting with that line about how he knows how to lose like a gentleman (“So perdere come un signore”). Over the propulsive pizzicato of Andrew Bisantz’s orchestra, he shed his overcoat as the quicklime-colored spotlight hit Minnie’s dinner table. She refused to cut the deck and they stared each other down while he dealt. For the last hand, Rance distracted, she withdrew the cheat cards from her garments with measured haste. Upon winning, Thomson smacked a caesura into her golden punchline, “tre assi…e un paio,” and then as Youngblood departed with a curt “buona notte,” she threw the whole deck into the air, the cards snowing down in reflection of the storm outside the cabin. She broke down crying after her Wagnerian shriek to end the act. For drama, Chris Moneymaker and Sam Farha at the 2003 World Series of Poker had absolutely nothing on Minnie’s full house.

Poni dentro al mio petto un puro cuore

Puccini’s heroine stands as one of the greatest achievements in opera and one of the most difficult to perform. When Johnson tells her she has the face of an angel, he’s not dispensing a pick-up line; Puccini and the librettists trust us to take the statement quite literally. She is a messenger (angel) of the staggering power of redemptive love. After her anticipation-generating late arrival in Act one, she stays onstage nearly the entire opera. And of the singing, Neil Kurtzman asserted that “Minnie is more than half way along the road from Tosca to Turandot.” She has to rise over and over above a full-throated orchestra, although the size of CCO’s pit reduces the total instruments you might hear in cavernous spaces like Chicago’s Civic Opera House or San Francisco’s War Memorial. While not quite Turandot or Isolde, the soprano singing Minnie needs big lungs, comfort in a broad tessitura, and dramatic nous.

Kara Shay Thomson succeeded dramatically most of the time, but vocally only in spots. Passaggio problems pestered her all afternoon. Her best moments took place piano, when she lightened her sound with a sort of cherry pie timbre for the Bible lesson, during which, amusingly, Rance and Ashby entered the auditorium to smoke e-cigs. Most high notes she approached from below, scooping, although some impressive exceptions such as the high C in “Laggiù nel Soledad” disrupted the pattern. She delivered “sono una povera Fanciulla, oscura e buona a nulla” pianissimo to lovely effect. But the difficulties with dynamic transitions took hold again in Act two, and her support dropped out with Minnie’s first expression of anger, “vieni fuori,” castigating Johnson about his identity subterfuge. She generally carried the final ensemble well, including the B♭ in “ora quest’uomo è mio come di Dio.” Dramatically, Minnie can go different ways; Thomson leaned into momish rather than sisterly affect towards the miners, drawing a greater contrast in her interactions with Johnson, where she stayed in countryfied ingenue territory. She ended with a weepy timbre as she gave up her gun, having won Johnson from his would-be executioners, and she and Burton departed by way of the house aisles.

Le tuo parole sono di Dio

Sonora, baritone Matthew Cossack, won his big moment, speaking for the group as he told her that God spoke through her. Most impressive among the supporting male cast though, was bass Christopher Job’s Ashby, the Wells Fargo agent, warmed the hall with a gorgeous black walnut timbre and dramatic gravitas. Given Minnie’s exogamous orientation, one wondered if Ashby might have made a suitable mate before the bandit showed up pretending to be from capital city. Look for Job at the Met—he appeared in everything in 2023-24, “Forza,” “Ballo,” “Dead Man Walking,” and some Puccini.

An apprentice artist, tenor Nicholas Lin, ably played the bartender Nick, as a jump-in. The rest of the miners, too numerous to mention individually, formed an affable ensemble, and really shone as a group in the climactic third act. They also surrounded Minnie antiphonally, from the house, at the end of the first act, humming. Mezzo-soprano Natacha Cóndor, also an apprentice artist, brought a pleasant sound to Wowkle, the only other female role besides the beloved bartender. Baritone David Drettwan might be served by waiting to sing a role runwayed as stagily as the balladeer, Jake Wallace; no doubt he’ll grow as a singer, but casting a principal artist rather than a YA in that role makes more sense. There are bit roles, and then there are some of Puccini’s bit roles, and “il cantastorie del campo” is the latter.

Maestro Bisantz’s orchestra took a brisk pace, probably the fastest “Fanciulla” I’ve heard, underlining the dramatic pace of the opera. The brief prelude—Puccini skipped those in “La Bohème,” “Tosca,” and “Turandot”—set up the motivic material and crackled, probably faster than the ♩ = 160 come scritto. Among standouts in the orchestra, Kathryn Harms played beautifully in this harp-iest of operas, especially the backbeat in Wallace’s “Che faranno i vecchi miei”. The ‘celli, led by principal Jon Lewis, and indeed all the low strings impressed consistently, especially when, with the love theme, the ‘celli backed Minnie’s proclamation of “io stessa” as the reading teacher. And timpanist Michael Tetreault blew the small hall’s doors off when required in Act two’s many filmic outbursts.

Addio, mio dolce terra!

Though our heroine might have been better suited vocally to the role, all participants contributed to a meaningful performance of Puccini’s masterpiece. Central City Opera seems to have bounced back from a period of turmoil in the early 2020s. The company demonstrates its worthiness as an operatic travel destination, from further afield than Denver. Whatever they perform next season, it cannot be quite as perfect a marriage of repertory and setting as “Fanciulla” and Central City, but you’ll surely encounter a performance worthy of your journey.

The post Central City Opera 2024 Review: La Fanciulla del West appeared first on OperaWire.

The performances are set to take place between Sept. 4 and 8, 2024, and will be the first time in history that this opera will be performed in full.

“Dalinda” was rediscovered in 2019 and meticulously reconstructed. It was then performed in May 2023 in Berlin with Lidia Fridman starring in the title role.

At first, thought to be yet another version of Donizetti’s “Lucrezia Borgia,” after examination, the score showed that “Dalinda” is an opera in its own right.

This time the opera will be led by Jeremy Silver, who is globally recognized for conducting lesser-known Donizetti masterpieces.

In a statement, he said, “We are incredibly excited and deeply grateful to have been selected to present the first full staging of Donizetti’s ‘Dalinda.’ This performance is not only an honor for us as an opera company but for the country too, and something we are hoping to share with opera lovers and newcomers alike who will appreciate the story, as much as the historic event.”

The production will star Molly Dzangare, Luvo Maranti, and Violina Anguelov. The production will be led by Italian director, William Costabile Cisco, together with Bulgarian costume designer, Leticia Parvoleta Ivanova, and Cape Town’s veteran set designer, Michael Mitchell.

The post Opera UCT to Present World Premiere Staging of Donizetti’s ‘Dalinda’ appeared first on OperaWire.

One of my last memories from Russia, before I left it about ten years ago after Russia started the Annexation of Crimea, is how following the EU and US sanctions, Philadelphia and Mozzarella cheese disappeared from the shelves at the supermarket.

Almost instantly, famous Import Substitution was declared and all Russians were strongly advised to be very happy and proud of the results of local producers.

Why am I talking about cheese? To note a few important social and economic consequences appearing shortly after.

Very soon I reported from my homeland that the Italian products had returned to the shops. The Russian market was too important, and also, there is a strong historical bond between the two nations (imperialist past?) that always allowed them to understand each other.

Meanwhile, Russian producers have never achieved comparable results to import quality of manufactured goods, and later, in the absence of competition, quality has dropped even more.

The US-owned brands, produced mostly in Poland, have never returned (at least legally and at large), while the Russian-inspired brands produced in Poland and Baltic Countries were dismissed.

Making a Choice

When the war in Ukraine had just begun, amidst the common shock, opera artists still hoped that their art would not be affected that much. The condemnation of war seemed logical and right for many musicians, but suddenly two groups could not allow themselves that “easy” and fair gesture. The first group consisted of people of high status and therefore bonded to the government, which was slowly taking over control of absolutely every aspect of culture, education, or business since the early 2000s. Another silent minority was elder people from the Soviet past, who still remembered the time when having an opinion or talking about rights was a crime.

The silence of these people made others wary and unable to speak out too much unless there was strong backing in the West. This preoccupation paid off very quickly as soon as the condemnation of military action was declared an administrative and, shortly after, a criminal offense. The pressure was high.

We all remember the cancellation of Russian opera singers and conductors everywhere around the globe. Opera companies seemed to decide on people’s careers. There were numerous arguments and battles, claims, and big headlines. After two years, I’m sure, they meant nothing for their main characters as they actually made their life choices. One shouldn’t have decided in a hurry, none of the counterparts was known for flexibility and or forgiveness. There would be no way back.

Import Substitution

Before writing this article, I asked 11 singers and two musicians in Moscow and St. Petersburg to talk to me on the record, about the opera industry questions only. All declined. Three out of 13 agreed to confirm or disapprove some of my thesis off the record, while ten didn’t feel safe to say anything at all.

Ensemble singers, freelancers, young and older professionals do not feel safe talking about their work. Or just don’t feel safe.

They are now the [survived] working force of the Import Substitution. And the first thing they learned is that they can be substituted just as easily.

The first target to silence were obviously the young singers with active political positions. Many lost their mentorships and were dismissed from their internships in the first six months of the war. Do you remember the young Italian singers coming back to their hometowns to repair shoes as their ancestors did for a living? Hundreds of young Russian singers returned home carrying their broken dreams, unfortunately, they had no traditions to back them up, since such practices were fully destroyed during the Soviet time.

The second group to control was the liberal teachers and mentors (there were not many). They were warned, and in case of disobedience, sent to early retirement. Just as many professors at Russian Universities, not to mention that a dozen professors ended up in prison. Fortunately, if I can still use this word in the article, no musicians were reported to be convicted.

When theatres finally turned calm, silent, and a kind of empty without the world opera stars, international interns, and local interns condemning the war, it’s time to fill them with… someone.

The second cast singers took place in the first cast (sometimes more than deserved place, otherwise not at all). The vacant spots were soon filled with friends of friends, brothers and sisters, etc. Nepotism and favoritism were always a problem in major (not only Russian) theatres but now bloom in Russia like never before.

One [assumably] positive effect of the theatre refill was attracting way more young performers from the regions (but also, not only talented but loyal to Putin’s government).

Not to drop the level [too much] the progressive artist with the star status, bass Ildar Abdrazakov, received special support from the government for his foundation, which now is concentrated on searching for new talented singers and presenting fabulous operatic shows across the country.

The Ildar Abdrazakov Foundation’s withdrawal under Putin’s wing was, in fact, a real loss for the international and Russian opera community, since during the first years, the foundation indeed served an idea of cultural exchange and ties between East and West.

Now, the Foundation has a new mission, to present opera with a bang, glorify the art with bright performances of whoever he chooses throughout the country, and in general, fill the entire niche of opera stars with himself alone.

The main result of Import Substitution is the common inconsistency in the main stages and festivals across the country. Russian stars are now often surrounded by their friends on stage, but an opera performance is not a friendly jam session. The young singers are getting the promotions sometimes way too fast. Burnout has become commonplace in theaters.

A better situation can be seen in the regions, where they were not that dependent on Moscow. Perm and Ekaterinburg State Opera Theatres were always flagman-ships of progressive post-modern presentation and relied most of all on local musicians. The problems that affected them were the cut of the repertory due to unspoken censorship and the blotting out of unwanted authors and perspectives.

Better Leaving [Than Blotting Out]

The iron curtain has not yet fallen this time like a wall. All dissenters were “generously” advised to leave since the beginning of the Crimean campaign. Many did, sick and tired from the pointlessness of a decade-long resistance.

Opera artists were not a target at that moment as the international stage was not affected by sanctions. But when Russia invaded Ukraine, it became clear that nobody would escape the consequences, and they then had to understand and adapt to the new conditions.

Those, who had good international management or foreign residence mostly left.

Soon, Dmitry Peskov, the voice of Putin, came to call on those who left traitors to the homeland and told them never to return, but then, he changed to say that the state is only proud of its talented artists, so highly appreciated in the West.

In Russia, those “highly appreciated” or “liberal” artists were destined for a different fate. The Russian term “вымарывание” is not exactly a “blotting out.” The word has a particular flavor of covering something with dirt. And it wasn’t a coincidence when Russian journalists chose exactly this word to describe the disappearances of the artists and creators in the announcements. Numerous theater and operatic performances now have no directors or playwrights, and many singers (even Anna Netrebko once or twice) were removed from the concerts’ announcements on the Culture channel. And when it comes to asking about nameless artists, the explanation of their absence consists mostly of that very dirt…

When popular Russian writer, essayist, and playwright, Boris Akunin said that his name had been removed from the playbills of plays based on his works, Russian presidential spokesman Peskov said that there is no trend in the country to “erase” authors who are inconvenient for the authorities, and “specific cases should be dealt with separately.”

The special cultural censor institution was set up in the last two years, it is called “Laundry” and has no official status, but works directly with theatre management, giving them hints about which artists fall under the scope of the Presidential Decree No. 322 of 27.05.2022 “On Temporary Suspension of Obligations to Certain Rights Holders.”

Yes, there is a Presidential Decree in Russia, that deprives artists of their basic rights.

Russian News Portal RTVI asked the president of the Intellectual Property Federation, S. Matveev to comment on these precedents.

“In this case, we are talking about the right to a name. This is one of the parts of copyright, is part of personal non-property, respectively, inalienable rights. Removal of information about the author, as well as the name of the work, is a violation of copyright — it is directly stated in the Civil Code of the Russian Federation.”

Roman Feodori is not a director of his “Linda di Chamounix” at the Bolshoi. Alexei Ratmansky is no longer listed in the playbills for performances of “Cinderella,” “Anna Karenina,” and “The Humpbacked Horse” at the Mariinsky Theatre. Alexander Molochnikov was typed as “director — DIRECTOR” in the program at MHAT, while his two productions at the Bolshoi were canceled and now the theater denies that his previous officially announced productions existed at all.

The educational part of the theater culture has disappeared. The opinions and artistic positions were erased together with the names of their authors. The main aim of the theater, so recently raised to a new stage of development in Russia, had become the usual public entertainment.

Moscow and St. Petersburg just recently discovered a chest of British opera treasures, once again immersed in the familiar dramatic sound of native Russian operas and the sweet sounds of Italy, with occasional but regular additions of Wagner.

And this, I’d say, is how the Russian opera so accurately reflected the country surrounding it — with a huge step back from what was achieved in the last two decades, and covered with dirt in the last two years.

Russian Opera In Exile

And what about those, to whose words and decisions were all the opera world’s eyes drawn when everything went to hell?

Anna Netrebko left to perform in Europe, and Hibla Gerzmava stayed to sing in Russia. Aida Garifullina left, and Ildar Abdrazakov stayed but he is always welcomed in Italy. The bass was recently dropped by his international management. Elena Stikhina seems to continue her ensemble position at the Mariinsky Theatre performing there since 2022 while also performing in the EU and US. Albina Shagimuratova stayed in Russia but doesn’t perform frequently, and that’s a pity.

Almost none of the exiled singers perform Russian operas now, it’s a difficult period, they say. The problem is that this new and not at all cold war [period?] doesn’t seem to be ending any time soon.

Russian operas are still strictly forbidden in Lithuania and Poland. In the rest of the world, their number has now reduced. The new season announcements promise us “Onegin” in Düsseldorf, nothing so far in Berlin, one ballet in Paris, “Onegin” and “Cinderella” in London, and “Onegin” again in Madrid.

High-tier singers and musicians are trying to support each other abroad, if you want to see the friend circle of Anna Netrebko, just check out the program of this year’s Arena di Verona festival or dates around the Diva’s performances at La Scala or State Opera Berlin. Though you cannot blame or complain about them, they are all indeed great artists.

What we can see now, is that opera in Russia is highly suppressed, and Russian opera abroad is extremely fragmented and limited to a few pieces. Suddenly, it seems that even the old performing art fell victim to Putin’s great plan of dumbing down the entire nation. With even greater sadness, I see that instead of saving Russian opera, putting it in the red book of endangered species and protecting it, studying it, and passing on knowledge, albeit beyond the borders of Russia, we just gave up on it. We melted together the face of a real tyrant, Putin, and Shostakovich’s Symphony No. 10 and Onegin’s eternal concerns, we added “Nutcracker” and “War and Peace” and threw it all back to Russia.

Don’t we need it anymore? Why did we just give it all to Putin, when we all know that he is a person most opposite of enlightenment, inspiration, and joy that art gives to people? Putin can do nothing to the score by Tchaikovsky, one may say. But if Tchaikovsky will only be heard to celebrate Putin’s victories, won’t it poison this music for us forever?

What if we take it back, play it, and give it new peaceful and enlightening meanings, then the Russian president’s absurd attempts to own the Great Russian Culture will fail. Because it’s not his, it’s ours. And you don’t need to be Russian to say it and to feel it.

Just play it again.

The post Editorial: Russian Opera Through the Iron Curtain appeared first on OperaWire.