Yet it is not exactly the feel-good opera advertised in Pentatone’s press release; rather, the eponymous Mr. Chips – “the teacher we all wish we’d had” – is a painfully grieving figure, an anachronism of sorts, happily projecting his nostalgia onto the devastating realities of the 20th century and its incumbent wars. A product of Old Europe, he does not belong in a world that has drastically outpaced his Victorianist ideals, let alone his antiquated sense for the Latin pronunciation of “Cicero.” Humor saves him from obliteration, but Mr. Chips is, in essence, of the same stripe as Korngold’s Paul in “Die tote Stadt” – someone who just can’t let go.

Not Letting Go

As his own librettist, Gordon Getty adjusts the plot to, essentially, operatic needs. The action is split into a frame story, and a metadiegetic level of Chips reliving his own memories. It oscillates between his 85-year-old self and episodes from his youth, most notably the tragically ending marriage to Kathie Bridges.

Evidently, the staging of embedded narratives is tricky. But on CD, the layering of storylines proves quite compelling, their friction, so to speak, adding to the main character’s psychological complexity. Kathie in particular is the driving force behind any of Chips’ actions. After her premature death, Chips projects the memory of her onto his very own idiosyncrasies, as when he reacts to his students’ pranks: “How Kathie would have laughed!”

“It was as if Kathie had become a part of him,” the ever so sympathetic Dr. Merrivale comments. Again, one distantly senses the echo of Paul’s pathological remembrance of Marie. Even the doppelgänger motif is of note, with the soprano being required to sing the double role of both Kathie and Linford. But overall, Getty does not draw the drastic consequences of Erich Wolfgang Korngold.

A Class Act

The music very much aligns with Getty’s professed self-assessment of being “two-thirds a 19th century composer.” It comfortably stays committed to the tonal language of the pre-avantgarde, though the deployment of chromaticism and an usual array of instruments make for a gently modernist touch to the score.

The piano, for instance, is something of a psychological barometer. It rises to prominence in the sombre keys played after Kathie’s death. At the same time, its syncopated rhythms, together with the strings, effectively cadence the flow of the narrative which, for the frame story especially, relies on the conversational, and relatively fast-paced nature of the libretto.

Getty thus sets the tone for a chamber-like intimacy, far from the grand gestures of full-scale Romanticism or the transitional styles of the early 1900s. Accordingly, the orchestra boasts a reduced brass section but, in a modern twist, expands on the percussion. The result is a somewhat theatrical, if not cinematographic feel casting the orchestra into an subtly devised mood-painting role.

Farewell, Mr. Chips

The Pentatone recording relies on the unmitigated enthusiasm of its principal singers.

First and foremost, Nathan Granner is a stunningly charismatic Mr. Chips, phrasing vividly yet coating every expressive nuance with his recognizably honeyed tenor sound. The absence of any self-contained arias may not do justice to his mere vocal skills; but his interpretive acuity asserts itself in many places, most notably perhaps in the extended lyrical solo of “I’m afraid that six Brookfeldians have died this week.” Standing in the chapel, Chips reads the names of Brookfield alumni killed on the Western front when an air raid siren suddenly goes off, and explosions are heard. The scene masterfully crescendoes into the boys’ choir chiming into the already cacophonous soundscape, and Nathan Granner’s solemnity is increasingly interspersed with quivering moments of anxiety.

Granner finds his equal in Lester Lynch’s wonderfully empathetic Dr. Merrivale who, in the novel, is a secondary character at best; yet with Gordon Getty, he assumes the primary function of being the narrator. Though the part does not call for vocal extravaganza, it requires sustained gravity, malleable diction, and a pitch-perfect sense for dramatic timing. Lynch provides all of the above, and his characteristically fast vibrato adds an air of venerability to the kind doctor.

Finally, Melody Moore’s interpretation is pivotal to the drama’s strong emotional impact. Her role, and especially the ariose “Chips, darling, it’s started,” are Getty’s most traditionally operatic creations per se, with her long monologue arching into ethereally sustained tones, and a resounding climax. The American soprano’s often diaphanous voice is also apt to suggest an otherworldly presence; after all, Kathie makes ghostly comebacks until the opera’s grandiose finale in Act two.

An All-American Affair

An all-American affair, “Goodbye, Mr. Chips” is further enlivened by the irreproachable performances of Kevin Short in the double role of Ralston and Rivers. But only thanks to the remarkably warm colors drawn from the Barbary Coast Orchestra does Gordon Getty’s quirky schoolteacher emerge whole from what could easily be perceived as a somewhat fragmented compilation of tangentially related episodes. Conductor Dennis Doubin is not to be rushed, and one readily appreciates every bit of patiently shaped melody, whether instrumental, vocal, or in conjunction with the stirringly glorious San Francisco Boys Chorus.

“Mr. Chips” escapes every attempt at conventional categorization. Despite its modern facture (with some limitations), its two-hour run betrays a deeply felt nostalgia for things well beyond the scope of opera. Chips’ death scene, in particular, is transcended by some life-long yearning for a world sadly gone by. Gordon Getty conjures the memory of it.

The post CD Review: Gordon Getty’s ‘Goodbye, Mr. Chips’ appeared first on OperaWire.

On Nov. 12, the Metropolitan Opera revived its production of Puccini’s “Tosca” to celebrate 100 years of the composer’s death.

It was the second cast in the season following an acclaimed turn from Aleksandra Kurzak in September.

For this evening, the Met put its hopes on what, on paper, looked like an all-star cast – Lise Davidsen in the title role, rising international star Freddie De Tommaso as Cavaradossi in his Met Opera debut, and veteran Quinn Kelsey as Scarpia. To round it all out, the company had its vaunted music director Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducting.

But on paper does not always translate. And this evening was such an example.

Before we get to the performance at hand, let’s start with how the evening commenced – a screening in honor of Puccini’s 100th anniversary to highlight his relationship with the Metropolitan Opera. The nine-minute film showcased anecdotes of the composer’s stories back at the old Met including an interesting one about the creation of “La Fanciulla del West” and another about Puccini’s apparent dislike for Geraldine Farrar’s “intonation issues” and Enrico Caruso’s “laziness.” More importantly, the graphic design of the piece made by 59 productions was visually commanding and it brought the viewer in. This was a refreshing experience and a reminder that the Met Opera has an incredible projection system and sound system to boot. I couldn’t help but consider the possibilities of how the space could be used as a cinema on nights when its empty, showcasing films and performances of famed soundtracks by the orchestra, in the same vein that other major orchestras do. This daydreaming was furthered by the fact that as I arrived at the Met, I spotted cinema superstar Angelina Jolie and famed film director Pablo Larraín, both currently on a press and Oscar campaign for their new film “Maria” based on Maria Callas’ last days, in the lobby prior to the performance. Perhaps a screening of “Maria,” which explores the final days of opera legend Maria Callas would be an amazing experience for the Met to showcase.

Laborious

But back to the performance.

When I first saw this production during the 2017-18 season, there were many issues with the staging from the often tepid, unfinished and overly improvised blocking. It lacked violence and tension. While it improved as the run went by, there were still details that seemed unusual and unnatural. That went away as the production was continuously revived with different casts who brought their own interpretations. It brought McVicar’s vision to new heights and continuously made the experience refreshing.

But on this evening it seemed that the production had regressed to the initial opening on Dec. 31, 2017. Taking the stage was a tepid, awkwardly blocked mise-en-scène with no real tension or suspense, replaced by a shining edifice that included an awkward Act one shawl dropping to the floor without purpose, incessant walking around the stage without intention or payoff in Act two, and and a laid-back jump in Act three. There was the awkward standing around between Cavaradossi and Tosca in the torture scene. And the famed run around the table for the second stab, the most contentious directorial choice in this production that few have managed well. It didn’t land on this evening. Overall, it just all felt, well, tired. Granted this cast had no formal dress rehearsal so one could argue that the big gala was, in fact, a dress rehearsal.

But things weren’t helped on a musical level. The Met’s Music Director has already conducted “Tosca” on several occasions and each time has been a constant struggle to experience. The conductor’s interpretation of this particular opera seems to be a trees from the forest approach with attention to specific moments over the general architecture of the opera. Details and passages are milked for all they are worth but never quite coalesce into the bigger picture of the drama. The result is a feeling of being lost at see, the music lacking narrative drive or moment, the singers forced to carry most of the heavy lifting, an unfair task. The big issue starts with tempi as Nézet-Séguin often opts for the slowest options available to him. The night was supposed to end at 9:40 p.m. per the Met Opera website but ended almost 15 minutes later. The opening duet in Act one saw the conductor slow every melody making it hard for either Lise Davidsen or Freddie De Tommaso to be in sync with the conductor. Then the duet with Scarpia and Tosca felt like a dirge with no grittiness or tempestuous entrances. It just all felt like the same dynamic with no drive or build. The “Te Deum” was as slow as anyone could manage. Puccini builds the choral line that ends with a climatic forte which Scarpia sings over. Nezet-Seguin maintained the tempo slow throughout and the growth toward the explosive climax never fully materialized in a cathartic way.

In the second act, the orchestra seemed to lack presence. You didn’t feel the ebb and flow of the thrilling act and you didn’t feel like it was building to anything. Only in the “Vittoria Vittoria” did  Nézet-Séguin take the time to create an exaggerated accent to emphasize the orchestral outburst. But “Vissi d’Arte” was so slow, I wondered how Davidsen could breathe through it all. The final moments after Scarpia’s death were also slow and tame in their approach.

But the biggest culprit of the conductor’s interpretation has always been the beginning of that third act. A scene-setter, Nézet-Séguin takes way too much time to get to the point, the passage ponderous, shapeless, and, unfortunately, at times unrecognizable. It’s stunning to often hear beloved classics and feel like you are listening to something for the first time. This was no such instance, but instead, one where it was easy, and even tempting, to disconnect until “E lucevan le stelle (tempi in that aria were also languid as can be).”

Ultimately, this interpretation is simply not for me and as is often the case with the Met maestro’s take on romantic classics, it feels like he is searching for something new to say, but often coming up empty-handed. All style with little substance.

Cool & Methodical

The Met Opera has invested a ton in making Lise Davidsen the new diva of the house. Her Lisa in “Pique Dame” remains one of the great interpretations I have witnessed in recent years at the Met and since then, Davidsen has scored great success in the German repertoire around the world. There is great anticipation for her Brünnhilde and her Isolde, which she is set to bring to the Met very soon. With her tremendous voice and regal presence, Tosca, the emblematic diva, should be Davidsen’s coronation.

Interpreting the character of Tosca is one of the great challenges in the repertoire. There are a lot of cliches that have been used to portray the diva but in modern times the Met has seen many of the greatest sopranos bring fresh ideas to the opera and create distinct and memorable portrayals, especially in this current production.

But there is something about temperament in the Italian repertory that seems to escape Davidsen, despite her vocal mastery. Last season as Leonora in “La Forza del Destino,” Davidsen’s approach to Verdi’s legato line was static and suffered from mushy Italian.

Tosca was arguably more disappointing.

Again, no one will deny that Davidsen has a tour-de-force voice. She can sing the lines and the powerful high notes that the score requires and she can occasionally bring out some gorgeous pianissimo, especially in the final act during her duet. But dramatically Davidsen seems too passive and distant. Even cool. (Again, this group had no dress rehearsal so this should be taken into account when it comes to stage presence and timing and comfort). From her first entrance, Davidsen moved about the stage in a mechanical manner, almost as if consciously trying to hit her marks. But it felt overly calculated, lacking in the playfulness, sensuality, flirtation, or emotional outburst that dominates this scene.

In the duet with Scarpia, Davidsen once again lacked clarity of her feelings for Cavaradossi nor did she ever crescendo to any sense of agony in what she was hearing. Her “dio mi perdona” and “Egli vede ch’io piango!” came off as overly safe. McVicar staged that confrontation to end with Scarpia grabbing Tosca’s veil so they can lock eyes one last time, a not-so-subtle, but nonetheless effective, symbol of his hold on her. This moment was telegraphed far too early as it looked like Davidsen was handing Quinn Kelsey the scarf to set up the moment. This was not the end of the awkward stage business.

The second act did see Davdisen bring out powerful high Cs but her declamatory phrases lacked any weight or desperation and, as was the case for much of the night, her middle and lower voice was often inaudible and came off as shockingly thin in the overall texture. I never heard this in any of her Strauss or Wagner interpretations at the Met before, but here somehow, in those registers, her voice sounded smaller and weaker (or maybe that’s just what happens in the orchestra section?). I considered that her voice, with its cooler colors simply lacked the brightness to cut through the orchestra as effectively as her partner Freddie De Tommaso (more later), who despite having a less powerful instrument volume-wise, has the weight to cut in this repertory. It definitely impacted the flow and potency of this Act in particular where “Tosca” transcends the form and becomes a full on drama with music.

“Vissi d’arte” was one such example where we could point to in this regard. It lacked a build of the legato phrase with dynamics wavering and the tempo, as noted, extremely slow. Her cinematic high B flat was majestic but it felt like too little, too late when the build was overly lacking. Davidsen’s chest voice was lacking, especially in the lines “Che v’ho fatto in vita mia? Son io che cosi torturate!” where the role forces the soprano down to the depths of the voice.

Another issue with Davidsen’s take was how she seemed to prefer a more “introverted” approach, especially in this act. I definitely saw that she was purposely avoiding some of the cliched and over-the-top outbursts that other sopranos can have in the major dramatic moments. You don’t want to make Tosca a laughing-stock of over-the-top emotions and arguing for an approach where she is staying strong and internalizing her pain can be truly potent and dramatically intense in its own way. But Davidsen remained too introverted in her delivery, to the point where it came off as calm and unperturbed. As Scarpia wrote out the letters of passage, Davidsen waded around, no visible emotion on her face or in her body, her entire presence very loose. She sat for a moment, seemingly relaxed. I started to wonder, what is this Tosca feeling knowing that Scarpia is about to throw himself all over her? One of McVicar’s best directorial moments in this production has been the moment where Tosca sees the knife. It’s always been super clear what the performer is thinking and feeling when she sees it. I missed that moment here with Davidsen. She saw it. She grabbed it. She hid it. All with a looseness and lack of clear emotional motivation that it fell flat and let the rest of the scene down. Again, as she stared down the man she’d murdered, Davidsen never managed to develop Tosca’s emotions in that moment, all the text delivered with a calm and cool that felt mechanical. Again, internalizing and shouldering the trauma is a valid approach, but it needs to build somewhere in the overall arc of the drama and the fact that Davidsen remained in this emotional gear throughout made the interpretation come off as overly aloof and as a result lacking in dramatic potency.

The third act saw Davidsen improve in that she sang some gorgeous pianissimo lines in the duet especially “Senti, l’ora è vicina. Io già raccolsi” and “finché congiunti alle celesti sfere.” Here Davidsen was able to float the pianos and connect them with elasticity. But in the final moments, as Tosca realizes that Cavaraodssi has been killed and she has pure declamation, Davidsen returned to the aloofness that had marked the rest of her performance. Her “Mario! Mario! Morto! Morto!” were barely heard and lacked in urgency. It didn’t sound like a woman realizing that all is lost, that she’s been tricked again, that her lover is, in fact, dead. “O Scarpia, avanti a Dio!” was cut short and lacked the cathartic power it often has. Her jump was relaxed, even perfunctory, lacking the dramatic punch it should have as Davidsen didn’t let the moment build. It never felt like Tosca even considered what she was doing. The fact that she jumped before she was visibly cornered didn’t help the dramatic timing or tension of it all.

Davidsen is a vocal powerhouse. But not as “Tosca.”

Bel Canto Scarpia

I would never use the words Bel Canto to describe Scapria’s vocal writing. The phrases are generally sung with a staccato and accented emphasis on the words. But on this occasion, Quinn Kelsey, who was making his role debut, had something different to bring to the character that didn’t always work.

Kelsey opened the evening with a healthy ringing baritone in “Un tal baccano in chiesa!” but it was overly pretty, not suggesting Scarpia’s snake-like character. In the subsequent duet with Davidsen “Tosca divina,” Kelsey sang with a bel canto line that was both ardent and gorgeous. I appreciated the connected lines and rhythmic precision, but I lacked the accentuated phrases that delineate a Scarpia who is stealthily seeking out Tosca sexually. The contrast was lacking and it brought down the sexual undertones of the moment, forging more of a brother-sister conversation with no tension. The “Te Deum” was immaculately sung and Kelsey held his own with the chorus, showcasing the baritone’s immense sound.

Act two got off to a rocky start with his “Ha più for te” which again Kelsey attempted a straight legato line but suffered from some faulty intonation issues at the outset. But he quickly recovered with impeccable high notes.

In the subsequent exchanges with De Tommaso, you started to see an imposing force on the stage but then in the torture scene with Davidsen, the aforementioned lack of physicality made this Scarpia look weak. In fact, he looked very uncomfortable next to Davidsen and never looked fully in control of the proceedings. At one point, when he sat beside her on stage right, the baritone looked too cordial, too stiff. He wasn’t quite a menace. He said one thing, but his physicality never delivered on it. The most awkward of exchanges was “Qual prezzo” where he stood over Davidsen, but looked afraid to touch her.

His best moment was “Quest’ora io l’attendeva!,” where Kelsey really got into the character singing with vigor and drive, the voice rising in tone and obtaining a great force.

This was his first attempt at the role and his first major Puccini role. It’s never an easy task to switch from the grieving Rigoletto to the vengeful and despotic Scarpia. So one hopes that Kelsey will only improve as he develops the character.

Showstopper 

The saving grace of the evening was without a doubt Freddie De Tommaso who was making his highly anticipated Met debut. The tenor has performed the role all over the world and it shows in his approach in which he holds nothing back. It is clear that this is a tenor that has been inspired by the golden age of singing and you can sense it in his declamation which is certainly affective and emotional.

He opened the first act with an unsteady “Recondita Armonia” that saw the tenor cautiously climb up and down the stairs and then sang with a wide vibrato. But it was clear he was just warming up and perhaps nervous at making his highly anticipated debut. But he quickly recovered in the duet with Davidsen. Here he sang with a golden tone highlighting a dynamic range from suave and gentle in “Quale occhio al mondo può star di paro” which slowly crescendoed to an impassioned tone, highlighting his immense and secure high range. That all climaxed in “Mia vita, amante inquieta” which was just pure passion as the Puccini line grew to the pinnacle of the duet. In the following exchange with Angelotti, De Tommaso’s “La vita mi costasse, vi salverò!” was a heroic cry with a ringing B natural that resonated with power and grit.

In the second act, the tenor was defiant from his first entrance and his furious declamatory phrases “Non lo so,” “Nego,” and “E rido ancor. E rido ancor!” Each repetition and phrase crescendoed creating the necessary tension. In the jail cell, De Tommaso let out a shriek that effectively delineated his pain. Even though he was offstage, you could feel the intensity in his voice and commitment to the character. His “Vittoria! Vittoria!” was the show-stopping moment everyone hopes it will be, the tenor holding the high B flat as long as he could. And he held it for quite a while, the sound pulsating with vigor in the theater like the best of them have managed. His subsequent “L’alba vindice appar” was sung with staccato phrases that emphasized the aggressive quality of this Cavaradossi. The “o Scarpia carnefice!” was nothing short of confrontational and suspenseful.

Act three is the tenor’s moment as it has one of the most famous arias in all of opera, “E Lucevan le stelle.” De Tommaso started off with a subtle thin sound that connected each line and moved with ease. “Mi cadea fra le braccia” was particularly touching, a lament to end the opening phrases of the aria, emphasizing that Cavaradossi can’t hold his stoic posture any longer and perfectly setting up the pain of the phrases to follow. His voice melted each legato line into the next especially on “Oh, dolci baci, o languide carezze.” As the aria crescendoed, so did De Tommaso’s tone and his declamatory phrases. He emoted many of the lines with a yearning quality especially “E muoio disperato!” and “E non ho amato mai tanto la vita!” It was intense, even exaggerated, the tenor invoking the approach of tenors of the past in its almost spoken approach. It might be “old-fashioned” but its still intense and powerful. The aria brought down the house in a grandiose ovation. Props to the tenor for singing the aria in a difficult slow tempo as he never seemed to lose a single bit of breath.

The subsequent duet with Davidsen saw De Tommaso bring the fire back a little and sing with tenderness especially throughout “O dolci mani mansuete e pure.” But this passage had an emotional directness and vocal sturdiness that is often overlooked in other interpretations. His heroic vocalism returned towards the end as he and Davidsen’s “Armonie di canti diffonderem!” was sung with triumphant tones that filled the cavernous theater with thunderous sound.

Without a doubt, De Tommaso is the real deal and is a tenor that will likely become a staple at the Met and a star that the house needs at this time.

In the role of the Sacristan, Patrick Carfizzi brought his usual comic timing and powerful tone while Kevin Short delivered a booming timbre to his Angelotti. Tony Steveson and Christopher Job were ominous as Spoletta and Sciarrone.

The Met is set to broadcast this Tosca in HD making it the fourth time this opera is on the Met’s heralded series. There was a more experienced Tosca this season that could have also been an excellent option for that HD, but I question why anyone needs another Tosca HD, especially when productions like “Die Frau ohne Schatten,” one of the Met’s greatest productions, and “Ainadamar,” arguably the best contemporary opera to grace the Met stage in recent years, have never gotten a chance on General Manager Peter Gelb’s emblematic series.

The post Metropolitan Opera 2024-25 Review: Tosca – Cast B appeared first on OperaWire.

This season’s premiere of Met Opera’s “Tosca” features Polish soprano Aleksandra Kurzak, in the titular role, marking her 100th Met performance. Her Met debut was in 2004 as Olympia in Offenbach’s “Les Contes d’Hoffmann” and her performances leading up to this season have all been unforgettable, especially Kurzak as Tosca.

Her voice alongside tenor SeokJong Baek as Mario Cavaradossi and George Gagnidze as Baron Scarpia, this season at the Met, is a spectacular combination of a lifetime.

Conductor Xian Zhang led the night’s performance with this magical trio for David McVicar‘s beloved production and John Macfarlane‘s set and costume design, giving the audience moment after moment of pure Puccini bliss.

Puccini’s Darkest Opera Realized

Puccini’s “Tosca,” with libretto by Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica, is based on the play “La Tosca” by Victorien Sardou. It is said to be Puccini’s darkest opera and considered one of the all-time greatest examples of verismo (realism), featuring moments of violence, rape, torture, sadism and suicide. The main characters Floria Tosca and Mario Cavaradossi go head-to-head with the villainous Baron Scarpia and there is no resolve – justice does not exist.

David McVicar’s production embodies the human experience throughout this dark opera, reflecting on the grandeur through John Macfarlane’s set designs of the Church of Sant’Andrea della Valle, the Palazzo Farnese and eventually the platform of Castel Sant’Angelo. This production captures the essence of Rome (June 1800) perfectly and Macfarlane’s costume designs give life to traditional attire and religious dress.

OperaWire did an extensive review on this same production for Met Opera’s 2022-23 “Tosca,” starring Aleksandra Kurzak, detailing the plot and production highlights. For this season’s review, OperaWire spotlights the exciting vocal highlights of Aledsandra Kursak, SeokJong Baek, and George Gagnidze, under the baton of conductor Xian Zhang, making “Tosca” an unforgettable production of a lifetime.

Aleksandra Kurzak as Tosca is Verismo Personified

Polish soprano Aleksandra Kurzak as Tosca is legendary. Her voice is made for this role, and her acting is undeniably one of the best performances in this lifetime. From the moment she steps on stage, Kurzak is Tosca in every mannerism and nuanced vocal inflection. She glides across the stage, easily unravels in her own jealousy, falls at the whims of her beloved Mario Cavaradossi, swoons in her own fawning, and transforms into one of opera’s greatest killers – “Tosca’s kiss.”

Kurzak embodies all that Tosca is, and more. She makes this role her own expression of what feeling the swells of passion and blind rage does to one’s body and voice. In her Act two aria, “Vissi d’arte,” Kurzak’s soprano is an exemplary force of Puccini’s mastery. The aria’s placement is up for controversy as it interrupts Scarpia’s malicious attack on Tosca, however what Kurzak does in her performance makes it work, as best as possible.

Kurzak’s interpretation stems from her superb acting and intent to keep her energy flowing forward, making ways for the audience to focus more on her internalized expression through her voice and soul’s lament. In doing so, Kurzak makes Tosca a role of her own. Her voice births the impending doom upon herself in the form of the aria and, consequently, when Scarpia proceeds with his attack post-aria, the audience is more likely to bear witness to her becoming a killer with just cause.

However, this opera (and David McVicar’s production) is all about there being no justice for anyone involved, and so the remainder of Tosca’s performance, as Kurzak wills-to-be-done, develops into her own demise. Kursak makes the “fall” of Tosca a meaningful expression of realism itself. This is the highest form of verismo there is, embodying the reality of it all.

Kurzak’s vocal highlights in this aria deserve to be noted, as well. Her opening E-flat on “Vissi” makes the hairs stand up on the back of one’s neck, calling to attention the listener’s heart in alignment with Kurzak’s soul. There is a thread of energy she transmits forward into the hall that pulls the listener into her most intimate realm of existence. Kurzak is a magician in this moment, breathing life into Puccini’s work and making it her own soul’s reflection at the same time. Genius!

Her vocal interpretation of the score’s “dolcissimo con grande sentimento” is never overpowered by her ego. Instead, Kurzak exposes her voice’s vulnerability and raw emotional expression, driving the tempo forward and taking this very challenging aria come from a grounded place. One might feel like they ascend with Kurzak as she sings, floating on the gut-wrenching cries of her higher register, only to surrender to her grounding when her voice releases hope and faces reality through knowing what she must do next (manifest Scarpia’s demise, which leads to her own).

Kurzak holds the reigns of this opera’s drama the entire time, refusing to let “Vissi d’arte” (the most transparent moment of her role) get lost in emotions. She is razor sharp with her intent, and her vocal technique allows her to detach from the heaviness that typically snares sopranos in this role. Kurzak’s Tosca is not a victim or a hero, she is a victor, and she vocally realizes this when she sings “perché, perché, me ne rimuneri così?” – she knows she must fight.

Her following aria, “Or gli perdono!”, continues in this same vein of verismo personified. Kurzak places the two candlesticks at the head of Scarpia as she realizes her actions (after stabbing him multiple times with a desk knife) and moves forward as the victor she is in defending herself and making her own escape possible (and potentially Cavaradossi’s escape, too?) This moment in the opera is shamelessly realistic and one might never be able to unsee her finishing off Scarpia’s blood-choking corpse with a crucifix from the wall, laying it across his chest and mirroring the reality that saviors do not exist, nor does justice.

Aleksandra Kurzak will continue to thrill audiences in this role throughout her career, and the Met Opera’s choice in having her join the production again this year is much appreciated.

SeokJong Baek’s Voice as Mario Cavaradossi Soars

South Korean tenor SeokJong Baek is a star rapidly rising. His Met Opera debut was in 2023 as Ismaele in Verdi’s “Nabucco“, and he was back at the Met in 2024 as Calàf in Puccini’s “Turandot.”

In this season’s “Tosca,” Baek’s voice reveals itself to be in a completely new ballpark of colors and dynamics. Baek’s Act one aria, “Recondita armonia,” is full of life and high energy. His voice dances among the notes with grace and ease that catapults the audience’s attention towards him as a beautifully portrayed Cavaradossi in his youth. Baek’s personality shines through his eyes and his smile as he lights up in full gratitude for what he gets to do as an opera singer, and that is exactly what he loves doing – to sing!

His Act two aria, “Floria…amore Vittoria!”, was outstanding as he held out “Vittoria!” for what felt like a whole 30 seconds. Baek was on fire in his determination to make the most out of every single note for the entire opera. One might have felt like he was “coming into his own” with this role entirely. He carried a different presence in this role, exuding confidence, joy, excitement, and elation as he sang.

“E lucevan le stelle” in Act three was another moment when Baek took the role of Cavaradossi to new heights. His voice’s clarity and youth tenderly delivered his message as he began writing and then turned inwardly to his beautiful memories. For me, I was most moved as he sang “ed olezzava la terra…stridea l’uscio dell’orto…e un passo sfiorava la rena…Entrava ella, fragrante…mi cadea fra le braccia… ” (The gate to the garden creaked…and a footstep rustled the sand to the path…fragrant, she entered and fell into my arms…). This buildup, leading towards the climax of this aria when Cavaradossi sings “Oh! dolci baci, o languide carezze…,” (Oh soft kisses, oh sweet abandon…) is the most transparent moment of this role. It is how the tenor sings this that determines everything about how he interprets Cavaradossi’s love towards Tosca.

Baek’s interpretation was that of a lover enamored with his truest love. This was not a pony-show to please the audience, this was Baek digging deeply within himself and excavating the painful longing of a soul for its mate. Again, for me, this was the make-or-break-it part of the night for Baek and his voice soared beyond my expectations. It is Baek’s innocence that shines through his singing, his efforts are all he has to give, but his voice is that of someone who is a “giver” and not a “taker.”

George Gagnidze as Baron Scarpia is Haunting

OperaWire reported back in January 2023 about George Gagnidze singing his 100th performance of Scarpia in “Tosca” on Jan. 21, 2023. In a statement, Gagnidze said, “The role of Scarpia has been having a great impact on my entire career. Almost 20 years ago, I made my debut in this thrilling part when I was a member of the company of the Osnabrück Opera in Germany. I feel very privileged to have since then had the honor to perform this character on so many great stages and with some of the best conductors. Even though ‘Tosca’ is one of Puccini’s most popular and most performed operas, I think it is also one of these eternal masterpieces one can see on stage countless times and every single time it is gripping. For us singers it is the same on stage, and my 100th performance on Saturday at the Gran Teatre del Liceu will certainly be as thrilling for me as the previous 99 shows.”

The Met Opera’s choice, for this season, to pair Gagnidze with Aleksandra Kurzak was an excellent decision. Gagnidze’s baritone is bone-chilling good. His voice rattles the soul and definitely caused a stir in Kurzak’s soprano during the “Tosca’s kiss” scene. Realizing Gagnidze’s greatness in this role is easy, however, recognizing the how deeply his castmates resonate with his performance is an infinite process. This is something I am still thinking about today.

Gagnidze’s voice and presence as Scarpia is timeless, leaving zero doubt about how much he has processed this role beforehand. But, there is also a newness in his portrayal, especially as he is attacking Tosca and not expecting her “kiss.” Gagnidze has a gift for staying in the present moment and not getting ahead of himself. He is also (as I wrote above about Kurzak as Tosca) verismo personified.

His aria, “Va, Tosca! Nel tuo cor s’annida Scarpia”, at the end of Act one with the Met Opera Chorus (celebrating a religious mass procession at stage right) and the orchestra including bell tolls, the newly restored Æolian-Skinner pipe-organ, and two canons, is absolutely my favorite moment in this production and with this particular cast. Gagnidze’s voice is breathtaking and terrifyingly honest as his Scarpia promises to “dig a nest in Tosca’s heart.” I could listen to this single moment again and again, the chorus was fantastic and the pipe-organ roared.

Scarpia’s aria in Act two, “Tosca è un buon falco!”, resonated in Gagnidze’s voice as he contemplated exactly how to trap Tosca, busying himself about his Palazzo Farnese. The light fell gently in through the window behind him, illuminating his evil plot and realizing the graveness of his existence. Gagnidze voices Scarpia’s plan with fortitude and frivolousness. His plan’s exactness lacks love and therefore opens the gates of hell to devour him whole. Gagnidze dives headfirst into Scarpia’s insanity. This is more than just evil or satanic, Gagnidze was made for this role. This is verismo at its finest!

More Cast Highlights

Kevin Short as Cesare Angelotti did an outstanding performance (though brief in this role). His bass-baritone carried throughout the Met’s hall and sounded spectacular. OperaWire did a Q & A with him on systemic racism, “Aida” & the future of opera that is a must read. Short’s presence on stage is electric and deserves more space to expand.

Bass-baritone Patrick Carfizzi as The Sacristan did an excellent interpretation of his role. Tenor Spencer Hamlin as Spoletta sang with a warm, bright timbre. Christian Pursell as Sciarrone had a strong stage presence and look of shock as Tosca jumped to her death from the platform of Castel Sant’Angelo. Luka Zylik as Shepherd Boy and William Meinert as Jailer included memorable performances in this production.

Conductor Xian Zhang Leads the Night

Chinese-American conductor Xian Zhang is an intuitive visionary. Her gift for conducting is both graceful and sensitive to the singers and musicians. There were many moments when the audience cheered for her and her ability to deliver such a memorable “Tosca.” Zhang’s mastery is in her appreciation for the music and doing exactly what the composer intends to be done.

Puccini’s “Tosca” revival for this season’s Met Opera production revived interests in verismo, creating a ripple effect that continues to haunt one at the thought of their own “reality” in today’s world.

The post Metropolitan Opera 2024-25 Review: Tosca appeared first on OperaWire.

Cincinnati Opera’s 2024 Summer Festival which took place in July will be broadcast in November via 90.9 WGUC.

The broadcasts will be on Sunday at 8 p.m. and can also be heard online at wguc.org.

The first broadcast will feature Mozart’s “Don Giovanni” conducted by Dame Jane Glover and starring Elliot Madore, Jessica Faselt, Jessica Rivera, Aaron Blake, Christian Pursell, Erin Keesy, Joseph Parrish, and Patrick Guetti.

Originally performed June 13 and 15, 2024, at Cincinnati Music Hall

Stream Date: Nov 3, 2024

Verdi’s “La Traviata” will feature Lorenzo Passerini conducting a cast that includes Gilda Fiume, Santiago Ballerini, and Anthony Clark Evans.

Originally performed June 27, 28, and 30, 2024, at Cincinnati Music Hall

Stream Date: Nov 10, 2024

Paul McCartney’s “Liverpool Oratorio” will showcase Joseph Young conducting and a cast that includes Andrew Owens, Jacqueline Echols McCarley, Kayleigh Decker, and Kevin Short.

Originally performed July 18, 20, 21, 25, and 27, 2024, at Cincinnati Music Hall

Stream Date: Nov 17, 2024

The post Cincinnati Opera to Broadcast 2024 Season appeared first on OperaWire.

The classical piece features music and lyrics by Paul McCartney and Carl Davis with all new sets, costumes, lighting, staging, and choreography.

The post Cincinnati Opera to Present Paul McCartney’s ‘Liverpool Oratorio’ appeared first on OperaWire.

The performance will be showcased on May 28 at the Atrium of the Embassy of France and will feature Jonathan Burton as Dick Johnson, Kristin Sampson as Minnie, Kevin Short as Jack Rance, Michael Butler as Nick, Andrew Boisvert as Ashby, Adam Ciofari as Sonora, Aurelio Dominguez as Trin, Josh Bates as Bello, Carl Rosenthal as Harry, Jude Reagan as Joe, Jose Sacin as Happy and Jake Wallace, Solomon Collins as Jim Larkens and Billy Jackrabbit, Anamer Castrello as Wowkle, Noah Mond as Jake Wallace, and Jude Reagam as The Pony Express rider.

Maestro Julian Benichou conducts the Chorus & Orchestra of the Washington Opera Society and Robin Phillips will narrate.

In a statement, Benichou said, “Following our immensely successful Figaro in December, the Washington Opera Society will again present a cast of the highest caliber and it will be once again a memorable performance. I am so honored and excited to be conducting our upcoming production of Puccini’s masterpiece La fanciulla del West. I saw a few years ago, a terrific production of the piece presented by the New York City Opera with Kristin Sampson as Minnie, Kevin Short as Jack Rance and Jonathan Burton in the Role of Dick Johnson. That was a stellar cast, and it is the same exact one our audience will hear on May 28th.”

The post Washington Opera Society to Present ‘The Girl of the Golden West’ appeared first on OperaWire.

This week audiences will experience numerous debut albums, a few complete operas, and some special choral works. Here is a look at the new releases.

Orfeo ed Euridice

Erato releases Jakub Józef Orliński’s interpretation of Gluck’s masterpiece. Recorded in Orliński’s native city, Warsaw, this recording was conducted by Stefan Plewniak with Il Giardino d’Amore, featuring an all-star cast with Elsa Dreisig as Euridice and Fatma Said as Amore.

Solitude

Soprano Katharina Konradi embarks on a musical journey to explore solitude and is joined by the Cosmos Quartet from Barcelona. The album features the works of Robert and Clara Schumann, Franz Schubert, and Hugo Wolf, as well as folk songs and French chansons.

Terra Nostra

Cedille Records celebrates Earth Day with the release of Stacy Garrop’s environmentally themed oratorio “Terra Nostra.” Commissioned by the San Francisco Choral Society and the Piedmont East Bay Children’s Choir for premiere performances in 2015, the work has since been heard most frequently in the Chicago area

Garrop is a Cedille Records artist, and the new album marks the label’s 13th recording to feature her music. The new album, recorded Feb. 6 & 8, 2023, at Pick-Staiger Concert Hall (Evanston, IL), was produced and engineered by Cedille’s Grammy Award-winning team of James Ginsburg and Bill Maylone.

Fear No More 

Brindley Sherratt releases his first solo song recital album, “Fear No More” on Delphian. The record features a collection of works that reflect a varied and profound musical journey, and showcase some of the pieces he loves the most.

Pianist Julius Drake joins the singer in songs by Schubert, Mussorgsky, and Richard Strauss.

Rose in Bloom

Erin Morley releases her debut album accompanied by pianist Gerald Martin Moore. The album includes music by Camille Saint-Saëns, Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, Alban Berg, Ricky Ian Gordon, Darius Milhaud, Sergei Rachmaninov, Alexander Zemlinsky, Johannes Brahms, Michael Head, Arthur Sullivan, and Ivor Novello.

Orchid Classics Label releases the album which OperaWire raved about and said, “Erin Morley, in short, commands a beautifully ductile instrument which enthusiasts will be glad to find immortalized on CD. ”

The Hours

Erato releases the CD of Kevin Puts’ “The Hours” from the Metropolitan Opera. The album stars Joyce DiDonato, Renée Fleming and Kelli O’Hara. Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducts.

The opera premiered at the Met, OperaWire said, “Joyce DiDonato, Kyle Ketelsen, Kai Edgar Shines Amidst Kevin Puts’ Gorgeous Musical Tapestry.”

La Favorite

Naxos releases Donizetti’s “La Favorite” from the Teatro Donizetti. The opera stars Annalisa Stroppa, Javier Camarena, Florian Sempey, and Evgeny Stavinsky. Riccardo Frizza conducts. Previously released on DVD, this acclaimed production won the Abbiati Prize for “Best Production of the Year 2022.”

Franz Schmidt: Fredigundis

Orfeo releases the 1979 live recording of Schmidt’s work featuring Dunja Vejzovic, Martin Egel, Werner Hollweg, and Reid Bunger. The ORF Vienna Radio Symphony Orchestra is conducted by Ernst Märzendorfer.

The recording is the first release of the rarely performed opera.

Doux Silence

ALPHA releases a new album featuring Julie Roset and Lucile Richardot. Les Musiciens de Saint-Julien is conducted by François Lazarevitch.

In a statement, Lazarevitch said, “The air de cour has been with me for almost as long as I’ve been playing the flute. … For me, it is one of the finest creations of French art. … I am particularly interested in combining the qualities of sound and breathiness of the voice and the flute.”

The Dream of Gerontius

Nicky Spence, Andrew Foster-Williams, and Anna Stéphany are featured on Elgar’s choral masterwork. The Gabrieli Consort and Players are conducted by Paul McCreesh.

Himmelfahrt: Bach, Telemann

The Freiburger Barockorchester and Vox Luminis are conducted by Lionel Meunier in a new album from ALPHA.

The album features two of Bach’s Ascension Day cantatas and Telemann’s Ascension Day cantata “Ich fahre auf zu meinem Vater.”

The post Renée Fleming, Erin Morley, Jakub Józef Orliński, Joyce DiDonato, & Julie Roset Lead New CD/DVD Releases appeared first on OperaWire.

Lacking public monies common in Europe, opera becomes ever harder to produce in the USA, but its enthusiasts are a determined lot. The Old Line State used to enjoy a typical American setup for presenting opera, an established twentieth-century organization, the Baltimore Opera Company, situated in a sizable venue in Maryland’s largest city, the Lyric Opera House near downtown Baltimore. The leadership of American überdiva and Maryland resident, soprano Rosa Ponselle (1897-1981) established the company’s high quality in the 1960s and 1970s. I still cherish memories of a 2002 “Rigoletto” starring Mark Delavan there, in the auditorium modeled on Amsterdam’s legendary Concertgebouw.

The late 2000s recession felled Baltimore Opera Company, which closed abruptly in 2008. The company phoenixed briefly as Lyric Opera Baltimore but breathed its death rattle in 2017. (For an overview of opera’s history in Baltimore, see Laura Farmer’s 2023 piece in Baltimore Magazine). Filling this void we find two newer companies, right-sized to face the fiscal hurricane assailing the arts in America. It makes sense; other American cities such as Baltimore’s Midwestern sister, Saint Louis, support plural, leaner houses instead of one larger grand opera company. Opera Baltimore, with the word ‘concert’ now resected from its name, presents in multiple venues including the cozy Engineers’ Club in the Mount Vernon neighborhood, recently celebrating their fifteenth anniversary with a February gala. And Maryland Opera (MO) opened in 2019, run by James Harp, a veteran of the old Baltimore Opera Company and Lyric Opera Baltimore. Too, don’t confuse MO with Maryland Lyric Opera, based in College Park, which presented a lot of hefty repertory before shuttering in 2023. MO began modestly, with concerts of scenes and arias for several seasons, before moving to full staging. Well-known for his enthusiasm for Puccini, Harp chose the main standard repertory work in which the title character is herself an opera singer, “Tosca,” and directed the show himself.

Un tal baccano in chiesa!

For Puccini’s zesty Roman candle, Maryland Opera selected the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer as the venue, in a swank neighborhood on Baltimore’s north side. This sanctuary boasts one peculiar feature that lends it well to a theatrical performance: expansive transepts, so wide that they rival the nave’s area. Indeed, rather than a truly cruciform layout, the nave and transepts nearly form a capital T, with no apse. Thus, the altar housed the stage, with the orchestra installed to the stage’s left, and “backstage” also located in the transept, to the stage’s right. Though a work that half the audience knows word-for-word, this “Tosca” benefitted from a supertitle screen above the church’s choir. Where would we be without the audience tittering at Tosca’s instruction that Cavaradossi make his Magdalene dark-eyed rather than blue-eyed? It pays to have a real pipe organ for the Te Deum, and despite the small chorus, if there’s one thing Episcopalians know how to rock, it’s a procession.

A suitable arrangement. How to succeed? Cast it well. And with “Tosca,” you’ve got options. The title role we usually slot as lirico-spinto, but full lyrics have sung it, as have dramatic sopranos. Some coloraturas even, who will never sing the role complete, still toss the audience “Vissi d’arte” in recital. Women of different repertory and linguistic backgrounds have sung the role; if you want to start an argument among Puccini fans of a certain age, bring up Hildegard Behrens’ interpretation of the role. Tosca’s attraction to a wide range of vocalists seems like an obvious fact rather than a challenge to the gods of fach. So representative of opera itself is Tosca that her showcase aria bled into American popular culture without Chuck Jones’ and the Warner Brothers’ assistance—as I write, a Samsung Galaxy S24 cellphone commercial featuring Maria Callas just aired on ESPN, La Divina posing the question “perché me rimuneri cosi?”

Callas, who led the mid-century bel canto revival, and whose Tosca opera fans regard as one of the greatest portrayals of any role by anyone, her white hot EMI Angel studio take with Victor De Sabata a core occupant of the record shelf. Opera talkers frequently cite the long tail of bel canto in middle and even late Verdi, or Wagner’s fondness for Bellini. You hear less of this talk by the time the calendar turns to the fin-de-siècle verismo composers, Puccini and contemporaries, but in some ways, Puccini officiates a marriage of verismo’s dialogic naturalism with bel canto’s purity of vocal line. What if. What if you momentarily put fach aside, and you cast Tosca prizing, above all else, beautiful singing?

Sei troppo bella, Tosca

Maryland Opera scored a casting coup for their mainstage celebration, the role debut of soprano Christine Lyons as Floria Tosca. If you’re unfamiliar with this singer, get familiar, soon. Your reviewer first encountered her in Bellini’s “Norma,” in the late 2010s at Winter Opera Saint Louis, then well-reviewed by the witheringly exacting critic Sarah Bryan Miller. While a company that performs in a huge space, like the Metropolitan or San Francisco Opera, probably would cast a larger voice for the Druid priestess, Lyons dazzled in the thousand-seat Skip Viragh Center, vocally equal to this killer role, and dramatically effective too, not least in Act two’s opening where Norma considers but thinks better of going Medea on her children, to the cello’s haunting accompaniment. Lyons returned to the Gateway City last year for Norina in Donizetti’s “Don Pasquale,” more in her natural fach’s lane. Every so often a soprano comes along with a sound so beautiful that when you hear them you think “I gotta sit down” before remembering that your glutes rest on a seat already. In recent decades, Ruth Ann Swenson and Janai Brugger are two. It’s easy to fancy Bellini’s ghost sent Lyons to us. She combines purity of line with agilitá, and possesses seamlessly connected registers, a sunny top, a warm middle, and surprisingly vibrant chest. And when she sings a role that’s a bit “too big” for her voice, she doesn’t push; she sings it with her own voice.

Lyons’ musical and theatrical intelligence served her well in Baltimore. Her bell-like “Mario, Mario, Mario” from the transept toned sweetly, as she appeared in a pastel gown with a short green train and black boots. After two perplexed but distinct deliveries of “lo dici male,” she gave a nuanced read of the “Non la sospiri la nostra casetta” passage, rendering its close “ah piovette voluttà, volte stellate,” like fluid caressing the container into which it flows. Tosca often broadcasts rage on regarding Marchesa Attavanti’s portrait—that Betty/Veronica dynamic with women’s hair color runs deep—but Lyons communicated anxiety more than rage at the idea of Cavaradossi fancying the Petrarchan aristocrat. This transmuted to genuine hurt when repeating Attavanti’s name upon Scarpia’s deception with the abandoned fan. Lyons can do twenty different things with her incandescent eyes, and when Scarpia touched her shoulder we saw barely contained revulsion, fear, and the very slightest thrill, all at once.

Sale, ascende l’uman cantico

In Act two, Lyons’ vocal entrance soared, offstage in the transept, augmented by the church’s acoustics—complaining about ecclesiastical acoustics is a commonplace in classical music reviews, but the Church of the Redeemer hosts music unusually well, lacking overlong reverberation times. Adorned with a champagne and raspberry tiara and a shiny, frilly gown, she imbued “Mario, consenti ch’io parli” with a blood red, verismo color. Act two’s staging forms an extended slow dance between Tosca and Scarpia, and Lyons stepped prudently in pushing aside his generously poured stemware. She didn’t appear to notice Chekhov’s fatal blade on the desk, more of a chef’s knife than a letter opener or paring knife, until she needed it.

Her showstopper, “Vissi d’arte,” came rich with detail. One of the best happenings in classical voice, when a singer makes piano soft, but it paradoxically feels loud. Mezzo-soprano Dolora Zajick was the world champ at that. Lyons began the aria nearly pianissimo, and then shaped a plaintive arc with “quante miserie conobbi aiutati.” She gave an earnest color with “con fe sincera” and a heartbreaking diminuendo on “diedi fiori agli altar,” as though these altar flowers had since wilted. Then suddenly, “perchè me ne rimuneri così” followed with an abrupt facial change and timbral alteration, giving the sense of spontaneity in Tosca’s plea to God—the setup had been meditation on the good works Catholic doctrine obligates her to do, not a preloaded laundry list of justifications why Scarpia’s assault shouldn’t occur—which should have been a given. “Che ne ridean più belli” unfurled radiantly, and the high A addressing the Lord, “perchè, perchè Signor” seemed to float clear out of the church. After the audience responded in full voice, she looked to the vaulted ceiling, giving the impression that “ecco, vedi” was directed as much to God as to Scarpia. She finally sipped the previously rejected wine as Scarpia signed the safe passage letter, and only then visibly spied the knife, communicating a dissociative shock as she stabbed him, and giving him a last thrust to finish with the final “muori!” Wearying is the widespread audience habit of laughing when Tosca pardons the dead Scarpia—Act one contains all the jokes in “Tosca.” Lyons hit us with one more lovely alveolar trill with “tremava,” and could not regard the corpse as she dropped, not placed, the cross on his chest. Knockout thee-ater by the composer and the soprano alike.

Tosca the diva somehow manages a wardrobe change between the Farnese Palace and the Castel Sant’Angelo, Lyons now in more pastels with a sweetheart neckline. As in the first two acts, she peppered the final duet and the dénouement with appealing details, too many too recount, especially a weightless float in “a sol cadente, nuvole leggere” referencing the clouds dispersing at sunset, as Tosca and Cavaradossi aim to do. Her bel canto vocalism remained to the very last high B♭ before departing the parapet.

E avanti a lui tremava tutta Baltimore

Strongest among the men—as in Verdi’s “Rigoletto” and “La Traviata,” the baritone ranks the tenor in importance to the work—Andrew Manea struck the appropriate balance between elegant orderliness freak and gross aggressor. He leaned into Scarpia’s few moments of lesser villainy, with a softer and convincing tone at “darei la vita per asciugar quel pianto.”  Performance practice surrounding “Tosca” simply will not transfer from the last century to the #metoo era, and that rape-culturish business about Tosca being more attracted to Scarpia than Cavaradossi, once de rigueur, won’t do and never should’ve. Yet, the mythic scope of the story demands a tension between them past mere contempt, and lust on his part; they’re worthy adversaries, and she knows she’s met her match in that department—running Cavaradossi is much easier. Manea proved a worthy foe dramatically, and vocally sometimes. He pushed quite a bit, and “Va, Tosca” sounded shouty despite the lean orchestral forces beneath, all force and little suavity. This didn’t prevent the audience from losing their minds with approval at the Act one curtain. Manea towered menacingly over the quite-petite Lyons, dressed in elegant blacks and reds. He saved his best vocalism for “Già mia dicon venal” in Act II, with a burnished legato vaguely reminiscent of Greer Grimsley. He also did a better job than most baritones of seeming inert after his stabbing.

Il Cavalier Cavaradossi

As happens at many companies these days, Maryland Opera’s fortune ran out with the tenor. Dominic Armstrong acted the part skillfully but pushed his voice into dire straits. One wonders about the effects of his appearance at Carnegie Hall last month in Schönberg’s epic swansong for extremely late Romanticism, “Gurre-lieder.” In attendance then, your reviewer was dismayed by Maestro Leon Botstein’s recklessly steamrolling the vocalists with a punishing sextuple-forte orchestra, when Schönberg’s mammoth orchestration instead requires quite the opposite, careful calibration. Armstrong’s instrument probably ranks a tad small for that work anyway, and even Cavaradossi’s lirico-spinto heft proved challenging this night. From “Recondita armonia” on, visible jaw tension was on display. He shaped some phrases nicely, like “Tosca ha l‘occhio nero.” But his forceful attacks on notes middle and high marred the long love duet. Lyons’ superior vocal production gave the illusion of a bigger voice than his in their duets. In the first, his support dropped out entirely with “mia sirena,” although he rallied some in the “qual occhio al mondo” passage. At lower volume, he fared better, but at mezzoforte he blasted somewhere closer to fortissimo, and the voiced throbbed in a piston-like tremolo.

His offstage torture scene carried well, and he emerged believably bloodied, but his big moment in Act two combined a “sei tu” with a weird, nearly ingressive sound with a wild, shaky “Vittoria, vittoria.” In Act three, “E lucevan le stelle,” conformed to the established pattern, his evening contained in miniature. Affecting in the nearly parlando start of the aria, things deteriorated with “discogliea,” with percussive attacks on notes. He acted the character well, broadcasting to the audience his white lies protecting Tosca’s feelings, and he passed Cavaradossi’s meta-theatric death with flying colors. In “Puccini Without Excuses” (2005), William Berger reported that he didn’t know if Plácido Domingo first acted the mock-but-real execution by indicating Cavaradossi knew that Scarpia would double-cross him and he would die, but Domingo was the first Berger saw do it that way. Armstong went this direction, and it adds a lot to the opera’s dénouement. After being worked over by both Leon Botstein and the Roman police within three weeks’ time, Armstrong might benefit from a Lieder recital preceded by a recuperative vacation.

Maryland, My Maryland

The men singing the comprimario roles performed competently if unspectacularly. Jarrod Lee, who appeared as a late-arriving jump-in, leveraged the Sacristan’s humorous exchanges with Cavaradossi. Kevin Paton-Cole worked two shifts as Angelotti in Act one and the Jailer in Act three, with a sizable bass of pine bark color. His haggard look in Act one presented him as though Angelotti already served some time hiding in Cavaradossi’s well, and his Jailer gave the painter a nonplussed, “who has time for that” assent to delivering the farewell letter to Tosca in Act three. Tenor Samual Keeler as Spoletta, and bass Phillip Collister-Murray as Sciarrone both combined the appropriate fear of Scarpia with malice towards everyone else.

Harp’s straightforward staging worked well—Tosca doesn’t really demand a concept, since the mythic collision between the protagonist and antagonist constitute story enough. The costumes borrowed from Tri-Cities Opera underlined the two most important characters, Tosca and Scarpia, smocking Cavaradossi and outfitting the rest as you’d expect. Fun details abounded. Scarpia actually shoved a nun aside in Sant’Andrea della Valle, and Spoleta’s stagily-executed Jesuit prayer drew attention again to the venue—if somebody has to stand in for Roman Catholics, who better than Episcopalians? Scairrone confiscated a cross from the priest and threw it at the dead Cavaradossi. Lyons’ valedictory jump looked believable enough. The only false note in the staging was Cavaradossi’s jumbo Attavanti portrait, a blonde woman of 1970s vintage, eyes unhinged and flaunting a parted rictus with sexy intent, looking less like the Magdalene and more as though she’d barely escaped Heaven’s Gate. More felicitously, the company permitted Lyons to do her own makeup, and hair, in lovely twists. Black opera singers recount oodles of screwups committed by white colleagues where cosmetics and wigs are concerned.

Maestro Steven White’s orchestra pushed the boundary of how far you can successfully reduce a score, rostering just thirteen musicians including the organist, with a single instrument doubled, a first and second violin. “Tosca” is one of the cello-est operas in the repertory, and Kristen Walsh stood out. Harp himself did the honors on piano, inviting comparison to Joy Schrier with Baltimore Opera in their concert mode, who performs miracles like giving the audience an entire “Adriana Lecouvreur” on a single Steinway. Half a dozen more string players would beef up the band. Percussionist Barry Dove proved crucial in this lean staffing.

A generally successful “Tosca,” headlined by Ms Lyons’ gorgeous bel canto vocal stylings. If they bring realistic expectations about scope, audiences will deem Maryland Opera a worthy complement to Opera Baltimore. Subprime mortgage-backed derivatives may crash the global economy and sink a fine arts nonprofit or two, but you can’t kill opera in Charm City.

The post Maryland Opera 2023-24 Review: Tosca appeared first on OperaWire.

The enchantment of the performance extended beyond the narrative itself, weaving through the spellbinding delivery of the esteemed cast. With their voices as the vehicle, they ushered the audience into the intricate world of Charles M. Blow. Adapted from Blow’s memoir, the production skillfully navigated through the journey of his life, evoking echoes of a Dickensian narrative.

The introduction of Charles as an adult, portrayed with intensity by Ryan Speedo Greene, sets the stage for a gripping narrative. His anguished demeanor, coupled with the ominous presence of a gun, hinted at a deeper turmoil simmering beneath the surface. As Charles conversed with Destiny (performed by Brittany Renee), the scene transitioned seamlessly, transporting the audience to the dilapidated confines of the Blow family home in Gibsland, Louisiana.

Here, the audience is introduced to Char’es-Baby, the younger incarnation of Charles, portrayed with remarkable poise and talent by Ethan Joseph. His ethereal voice resonated through the theater, commanding attention as he took center stage.

The narrative arc delved into Char’es-Baby’s quest to break free from the confines of his childhood loneliness, yearning to shed the moniker that bound him to infancy. Latonia Moore’s portrayal of Billie, his mother, offered a poignant portrayal of single parenthood. Billie grappled with the complexities of love and loss amid a volatile relationship with Spinner, her deadbeat, serial philandering husband, brought to life with smarmy charm by Chauncey Packer.

It was within the nurturing guidance of his Uncle Paul, a farmer portrayed with warmth and wisdom by Kevin Short, that Char’es-Baby found solace and strength. Their scenes unfolded with tender sincerity, each moment a map for moving forward. Uncle Paul told Char’es-Baby that a hoe breaks apart hard earth so seeds may grow. “…You gotta disturb the earth so things can grow,” he sang. Yet, in that moment, Char’es-Baby could only see the surface, not the wisdom hidden below it.

Amid the tender moments of Act one, the shadow of darkness, embodied in the unsettling presence of cousin Chester, was portrayed as a sexual predator lurking within the familial fold—his prey, Char’es-Baby. Chester’s despicable actions cast a pall over Char’es-Baby’s innocence, leaving scars that would linger long after Act one reached its conclusion.

As the curtains fell, the audience was left to ponder the unanswered questions that lingered in the air. The mysteries surrounding Charles’s journey, the enigmatic figures that guided his path, and the underlying themes of growth and resilience remained tantalizingly unresolved.

In contrast to the intensity of Act one, Act two lacked the visceral impact that had left the audience reeling. After the gut-wrenching journey of the previous act, the narrative relieved the audience from the emotional onslaught.

In Act two, the story catapulted to Charles’s high school years, where simmering anger and deep-seated vengeance clouded his future with uncertainty. The lingering “stain” left by Cousin Chester remained an indelible mark, akin to Lady Macbeth’s infamous spot that defied erasure. Despite seeking solace in baptism, Charles found that absolution remained elusive, his soul still weighed down by shame, guilt, and a profound sense of alienation.

Despite the weightiness of his inner turmoil, Act two exuded a sense of jubilation, underscored by the spirited presence of a gospel choir clad in flowing robes. Their exuberant praises extolling the cleansing power of baptism filled the air, infusing the scene with an infectious energy. Even Charles, though reserved, found himself swept up in the buoyant atmosphere as he prepared for his immersion. And when the ritual was complete, the choir erupted into a joyous anthem celebrating the purification of sins. But Charles sensed that nothing had changed. He hadn’t been cleansed, and so his quest for redemption continued.

The act reached its crescendo with Charles’s acceptance letter to Grambling State University, hope amid the storm of his adolescence. Grambling’s full scholarship offer alleviated Billie’s financial burden, igniting renewed excitement and optimism. Yet, amidst the celebrations, Destiny’s sobering presence loomed, delivering a stark reminder that true redemption was not easily attained. Act two drew to a close as she imparted the harsh truth that some wounds may never fully heal, leaving Charles and the audience grappling with the weight of unrelenting pain and the elusive pursuit of inner peace.

The final act unfolds with a spellbinding display, commencing with the electrifying “step dancing” tradition within historically Black fraternities, such as Kappa Alpha Psi. The stage pulsated with energy as brothers executed intricate footwork, accompanied by the resounding clack of canes striking the floor. This awe-inspiring sight momentarily transported spectators from the weight of reality.

Charles’s journey takes a turn as he embarks on the path to fraternity membership, enduring the trials of Hell Week with stoic determination. Emerging as a full-fledged Kappa, he embraces the fraternity’s ethos of resilience, embodying the mantra of strength in the face of adversity and its promise of companionship.

Amidst the revelry, Charles encounters Greta, portrayed by Brittany Renee, igniting a passionate connection that unfolds behind closed doors. In a moment of vulnerability, Charles unveils the haunting secret of Chester’s assault, only to be met with Greta’s abrupt withdrawal. This revelation leaves him reeling with heartache and confusion.

As the opera reaches its crescendo, Charles’s anguish reaches a boiling point with Chester’s ominous return, sparking a confrontation teeming with raw emotion and simmering rage. In a scene fraught with intensity, Charles confronts the specter of his past, wielding a gun against an unseen adversary, as a projection of Route 20 looms ominously in the background.

The narrative threads woven throughout Act one begin to unravel, offering glimpses of resolution amidst the chaos. Charles’s encounter with Char’es-Baby at his old home in Gibsland is a poignant reminder of the journey toward self-redemption as he confronts the bitterness and anger that have long plagued his heart.

As the final curtain descends, lingering questions remain: Will Charles succumb to the cycle of violence that threatens to consume him, or will he heed the lessons of resilience and forgiveness, forging a path toward healing and renewal? The answer remains uncertain, leaving audiences to ponder the fate of our troubled protagonist—a testament to the enduring power of Terence Blanchard and Kasi Lemmons’ evocative narrative.

Blanchard’s score resonated with cinematic grandeur, weaving together sweeping strings, distinctive motifs for each character, and a rare sense of drama seldom found in contemporary operatic compositions. While many struggled to reconcile traditional repertoire with modern sensibilities, Blanchard’s ability to seamlessly blend music and lyrics offered a striking portrayal of Charles’s world, drawing audiences into a captivating soundscape. As a highly esteemed jazz musician, Blanchard infused the score with vibrant jazz riffs, creating a multi-dimensional musical experience that left a lasting impression.

Under the baton of Evan Rogister, the Met Orchestra played their finest, tackling the challenges of Blanchard’s classically inspired jazz-infused score with remarkable skill and dedication. Rogister’s triumphant demeanor after the performance spoke volumes, a testament to the orchestra’s unwavering commitment and impeccable execution.

In the role of Charles, Ryan Speedo Green delivered a tour de force performance, commanding the stage with raw intensity and emotional depth. Green’s portrayal struck a chord of relatability, drawing audiences into Charles’s tumultuous journey with unwavering authenticity and brilliance. Opposite Green, Ethan Joseph’s portrayal of Char’es-Baby was nothing short of mesmerizing. His ethereal voice captured the essence of Charles’s haunted past with haunting precision. Green and Joseph formed a dynamic duo, their performances complemented each other in a dazzling display of artistry and chemistry.

In the role of Billie, Latonia Moore truly owned her character. She was a mother juggling a job and five kids, and her dreams of becoming a teacher were placed on hold while she reared her children. The lack of affection Billie showed to Char’es-Baby wasn’t callousness. She was careworn, tired, and at wit’s end when dealing with Spinner, her player husband. Moore infused the role with compassion, humor, and warmth. She was loyal, hunting down Spinner at a club, confronting the woman first before addressing her husband’s infidelity. There was no sense that she wanted to escape her circumstances, but she wanted to improve them for herself and her family.

Brittany Renee faced the daunting task of portraying three distinct characters. As Destiny, she served as Charles’ guide, leading him through the labyrinth of his emotions. Transitioning to the role of Loneliness, Renee skillfully amplified the depth of Charles’ longing for companionship, infusing each scene with poignant resonance. This complexity reached its zenith in her portrayal of Greta during Act three. Renee deftly depicted Greta as a reflection of Billie’s emotional unavailability, her presence serving as a stark reminder of Charles’ longing for genuine connection. Despite her temporary availability, Greta ultimately abandons Charles to return to her boyfriend. Renee’s portrayal exuded a nuanced and enigmatic quality, leaving the audience questioning the sincerity of her motives.

“Fire Shut Up in My Bones” is a must-see and a highlight of the Met’s season. Once more, it demonstrates the power of contemporary opera within the art form and its importance to box office revenue. With more new shows coming down the pike, New York’s staid opera house is slowly turning the ship towards giving new audiences a different opera experience than ever before.

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This week audiences will get a chance to listen to several baroque albums, a world premiere recording of a new opera, a French solo album, and rarely performed composers.

Pergolesi Stabat Mater & Vivaldi Nisi Dominus

PRJCT Amsterdam and its artistic director Maarten Engeltjes present two of the greatest vocal works of the baroque era: Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater and Vivaldi’s Nisi Dominus. Engeltjes is joined by soprano Shira Patchornik in Pergolesi’s work.

Ich sehe still vorüberziehen

Yvonne Prentki and Benedikt ter Braak release “Ich sehe still vorüberziehen” on Ars Produktion. The album include Lieder by Richard Strauss, Josephine Lang, Nadia Boulanger, and Ethel Smyth.

Mozart: Die Zauberflöte

Opus Arte releases a new recording of Mozart’s famed “Die Zauberflöte.” The recording features David Portillo, Sofia Fomina, Brindley Sherratt, Björn Bürger, and Caroline Wettergreen. The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment is conducted by Ryan Wigglesworth and teh production is by Barbe & Doucet.

Georg Friedrich Handel: Poro, re delle Indie

Il Groviglio, a group established in 2018 by Marco Angioloni, is an ensemble of musicians, artists, and scholars who shed new light on the world of Baroque music, offering a repertoire that is constantly being rediscovered. The ensemble has recorded Handel’s rarely performed opera.

Michael Dellaira: The Leopard

Naxos releases the world premiere recording of Michael Dellaira and J.D. McClatchy’s work. Gerard Schwarz conducts the opera with soloists Yaqi Yang, Margarita Parsamyan, Robynne Redmon, Minghao Liu, Frank Ragsdale, Kim Josephson, and Kevin Short.

When the opera had its world premiere, OperaWire review noted that, “In all, there was much to enjoy from this fascinating take on Lampedusa’s novel, from the highly expressive music to the highly-promising cast of young artists backed by seasoned professionals.

Paysage

Alpha releases the new recital album by Véronique Gens and Hervé Niquet. The two explore a neglected aspect of France’s Romantic heritage: songs with orchestral accompaniment. The album includes works by Debussy and Duparc, and Berlioz’s “Nuits d’été,” orchestral mélodies form a virtually forgotten continent. There are also works by Hahn, Fauré, Saint-Saëns, Chausson, Gounod and Dubois, Massenet, Fauré, and Fernand de La Tombelle.

Oscar Merikanto: Songs

Waltteri Torikka and Marko Hilpo explore 29 songs by Oskar Merikanto, who died 100 years ago. Ondine releases the new album.

Stabat Mater: Scarlatti and Dvořák

Alpha releases recordings of Scarlatti and Dvořák’s “Stabat Mater” with La Tempête and conductor Simon-Pierre Bestion.

Johann Simon Mayr: Messa solenne in D minor

Naxos releases Mayr’s mass with a cast that includes Anna Feith, Bogna Bernagiewicz, Freya Apffelstaedt, Markus Schäfer, Fang Zhi, and Niklas Mallmann. They are accompanied by the Simon Mayr Chorus, Concerto de Bassus, and conductor Franz Hauk.

Lully: Te Deum

Lully’s Te Deum is recorded by Les Epopées, Les Chantres & Les Pages du Centre de musique baroque de Versailles, and Stéphane Fuget.

Rachmaninoff: All-Night Vigil

Chandos celebrates the 150th anniversary of the birth of Serge Rachmaninoff with the California-based PaTRAM Institute Male Choir. The record features the composer’s choral tour de force, “The All-night Vigil.” The album was recorded in the Russian Orthodox Convent Monastery Church of the Ascension on the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem and features soloists Igor Morozov, Evgeny Kachurovsky, and Alexis V. Lukianov. Ekaterina Antonenko conducts.

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